#hello i offer free hurt and a little comfort

[weird-an]

"Love isn't a thing," Billy scoffs and it's like he's putting his hand right around Steve's throat. "Grow up, Harrington."

Steve shakes his head, his breath still taken away. He tries to inhale, but he's choking. He said it too early, he's too much, he fucked up.

"You'll get over it," Billy says, not looking at Steve. He makes an absent gesture at himself. "There's nothing to love here."

Finally, Steve finds his voice again. He's still strangled, but even now he can't let Billy believe this. He can't let Billy say these things about himself. He can't let Billy think like this.

"I love you," he repeats. "I don't wanna get over it."

Billy just glares at him, a line on his forehead, like he can't figure Steve out.

"Steve," he says, his voice cracking. For the first time, he sounds unsure, like he's a child that got lost. Steve's heart skips a beat. "I'm not… good for you."

Steve sees it, then. Billy doesn’t talk much about home. Only once he said something about his mother who just left him behind. Behind with a man that's supposed to be a father but only knows violence and anger.

"You're right," Steve says. Billy seems to shrink a little.

"Loving you is hard," Steve continues. He cups Billy's face with his hands, plants a kiss on his nose. "But it's worth it. You're worth it."

Billy shakes, eyes red. "Don't say that," he begs, the kid that got left behind. "Steve, don't."

"You're worth it," Steve says again. "I love you. Even when it hurts."

"Shit." Billy sniffs.

"I'll say it until you believe me," Steve threatens - or promises.

"That will take a while," Billy mumbles.

"That's okay." Steve kisses him. Billy kisses back.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello, I love all your aus. I selfishly want to ask for more of Danny's Grill. Pretty please.

Danny added cilantro to the tacos before closing the lid on the carryout box. He glances behind him to see Alvin handing out toys to the kids at the window.

Alvin smiles sweetly at a little girl who stands on her tiptoes to point at the red truck inside Alvin's toy chest. His crush hands her some stickers to build her race track, and Danny's heart leaps at the sweet image.

Little toy cars, dolls, or fidget toys were a real hit with the crime alley children—most didn't have a chance for new toys—and Alvin seemed to glow whenever he gave a new child a toy.

It was his idea on the second night of them going around. Usually, people don't get small gifts when getting food from a food truck, but a few nights ago, Alvin had asked if he could go with Danny on his rounds.

He wanted to tell him no at first since Red Hood had yet to find his pimp, but one look at those sea watercolor eyes had him folding faster than wet paper. He had placed Alvin as the cashier, a grin never leaving his face as Danny listened to the other charm all the customers that wandered over.

It was an oddly domestic setup they had going on.

Danny, with his random menu of food, and Alvin, with his bright smile and charming deposition. After a full day and a bit of night selling food, the two would head home to relax in the oversized baths and spend a lazy afternoon.

All of Danny's chores were done by ghosts who occasionally came by to support them. Other times, they were there to serve Danny. He didn't feel comfortable with having someone waiting on him hand and foot, but he did like treating Alvin with the best service he could offer.

Since Alvin moved in, Danny has been proud to notice his eye bags had decreased, his skin had cleared, and the tension always resting on his shoulders had vanished. He also put on some weight, which upset Alvin a little, but Danny thought it was nice to see him healing.

He worried he was getting attached to Alvin. Danny knew he had fallen in love with Alvin, as much as he wished he hadn't, but he couldn't help it.

Alvin was everything he ever wanted in a partner and more. It was complicated to remind himself that eventually, Alivn would be safe enough to leave his home. It was shameful to admit he was glad that Red Hood was taking a while to find the assholes who hurt his friend.

"Here you are." He tells the teenager with them. "Three orders of tacos de barbacoa."

The teen's nose wrinkles. "Your Spanish sucks."

"I tell him the same thing all the time. But at least he can make really great tacos." Alvin winks as the teenager's smirk grows. The little kids with him laugh happily, and the group of five wanders away.

One little boy is showing off his new car while the little girl grabs the hand the teenager offers her. Alvin watches them until they retreat back into the apartment building from which they came.

Alvin leans back with a loving sigh. "Adorable little beasts"

"What made them beastly?" Danny asks, amused, as the other points to the little tray of cookie bags sitting on the window table.

"The little girl stole two bags. The older one definitely saw but he acted like he didn't."

"That's why you gave them more cookies?" Danny asked, remembering that Alvin had grabbed the to-go bag and sneakily placed the treats inside while Danny cooked.

"Sure. You don't mind if I give out free food, and it would be mean to have them all share two bags when there are five of them." Alvin leans back cracking his neck. "I come from a big family too. Trust me when I say that causes living room wars"

Cute!

Danny hastily looks away, trying to cover up his reaction to Alvin's crooked grin. While trying to hide his blushing face, Danny catches a glimpse of a figure on the rooftop watching them.

Batman.

He waves at the vigilante. He noticed the other following him a few nights ago, and despite the bat-themed hero never recognizing him, Danny still picked up a bottle of soda and a box of food to gesture at him.

He doesn't think he has time for a dinner break, but it would be rude not to offer a meal when he can.

Batman's white lenses narrow for a fraction of a second before he steps back into the shadows disappearing from sight.

He's not hungry then. Okay.

"Danny," Alvin calls from further inside the food truck. "We are almost out of food. Want to call it a night?"

"Sure, I don't mind. Do you want to do anything later?"

Alvin thinks it over before announcing, "I want to go into the pool later. Will you join me?"

I would do anything for you. Danny thinks but only says "Of course. I need a good spa day too. I'm thinking of doing a pedicure."

Alvin smiles at him, and it's brighter than any sun could ever be. With practice, the two dance around each other, doing the clean-up and closing duties to get the truck ready for travel.

Alvin falls into the places that Danny steps out of, giving Danny warm looks that make Danny slightly hot under the collar, but it makes him wish he could keep Alvin forever.

In ten minutes, they are closed up and driving out of Crime Alley on their way back to their mansion. Danny is making the last turn out of Gotham, with Alvin sitting in the passenger seat scrolling on his phone when he feels someone land on his roof.

Seeing that his food truck has become an extension of his haunt, Danny can tell who it is the second they touch his vehicle.

Batman.

When he remembers his early offer, he wonders what the man could want going for a ride. Was the hero finally going to take him up on it? That's wonderful!

"Hey Alvin, I need to do a quick stop," he tells the other while pulling into a 24-hour gas station. Alvin waves his hand, not once glancing up from his phone. Danny suddenly feels the urge to press a kiss against his cheek, but that would be creepy.

So he settles for a quick pat on his shoulders before he slips out of his seat and grabs the leftover pre-prepared meals. He also holds a water bottle just in case the bat is parched. He swiftly steps outside, tilting back to lock his gaze on Batman.

"Here you go," Danny says, holding up the food. "It's still warm."

Batman's eyes widen, then narrow. "No."

What?

"Are you not here for food?"

"No."

Danny waits a moment, but no explanation on why he was riding on his truck comes he clears his throat. "Is there anything I can help you with then?"

"What are your intentions with Tim?"

Who the hell is Tim?

Oh! Wait, he meant Tim from Second Street. Danny had sold him some food and realized the old man couldn't get back on his porch, so he built him a ramp.

Danny spoke to him only during that interaction, but if Old Man Tim was involved in a crime, it was better to act like he wasn't aware.

"Just trying to make him happy is all sir." He says carefully watching for any reaction. The best lies are ones built on truths.

Batman's face stays the same, but in one quick motion, he leaps from the truck and shoots off his grabbing hook. He's gone in seconds, rushing off into the night as Danny watches him go.

He doesn't know why but he gets the strange sense he just passed a test of some kind.

[cozage]

hello! Im kinda new to tumblr so i dont really know if im supposed to send requests here so sorry if im supposed to send it somewhere else, but for my request can it be fem! Reader x sanji? Hurt to comfort where he says something mean but then apologizes? And can you pull out the angsty bit a little, but make the ending fluffy? And for the format can it be like a mini fic? If you want you can add other characters but i mainly want sanji! Thats all! Sorry if my request didnt make sense as im new to tumblr😔. Thank youu!

A/N: Hi! You did everything perfectly!! Thank you for the request <3 it was so hard to make Sanji mean even accidentally 😭 I hope this is good! It’s also not edited so please forgive any grammatical errors!  Characters: fem reader x Sanji Cw: Sanji is an idiot and says mean things (and is a little sexist) Total word count: 900

Rude Comments

“I can do it, Sanji.” Your words came out quick and short. Your temper was rising, both at your task at hand and the blonde who was hovering behind you. He didn’t normally come with you on jobs for Franky, but he had been free today.

“It’ll be faster if I do it,” Sanji offered. He reached out for the wrench. 

“I can do it!” you snapped again. You pulled away from the task and glared at him. “Franky asked me to do this, so let me do it!”

“Well, it’s just…” Sanji eyed your clenched fist around the wrench and took a step back. “It’s not really a woman’s job to do this sort of thing, and-”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” you bellowed. “You think I’m not capable of doing this?”

Sanji threw his hands up in a plea. “No my love! It’s not that at all! It’s just…you’re not very good at this.”

It felt as though you had swallowed a stone. “Franky always asks me to do this.”

“And you’re being very helpful!” Sanji said quickly. “But he gives it to you because it’s not exactly a top priority task and…well, it’s really hard to mess up.” 

Sanji gave a weary look back to your workplace as if your handiwork spoke for itself. His pitied gaze and words made you suddenly want to be alone. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, dropping the wrench to the ground. “Fix it for me, then.”

“Of course, darling!” Sanji jumped at the wrench. You were fairly sure he was already starting to explain how he turned the bolt, but you walked out the door without listening further. 

You didn’t see Sanji for a while. That was fine with you, though. You retreated to the back of the ship and perched atop a barrel, staring out at the sea to think. Did Franky always give you useless tasks just to keep you busy? You frequently had to return to the same tasks again and again. What if Franky broke things just to have you fix them? 

The thought brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure Franky enjoyed your company and valued your help. He had called you “super indispensable” more times than you could count. Was it all just a lie?

“Darling?” 

Sanji’s voice broke through your mental spiral and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks. 

“Yeah?” Your voice came out wobbly, but there was no point in hiding from Sanji. 

You turned to face him. You had been ready for him to fuss over you, but you found that he was covered in sweat and grease and plenty of other weird stains and smears. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge your puffy eyes at first. He looked too exhausted. 

“So, this is the part where I apologize,” he said softly. 

He strode over to you in three steps and swept your hair out of your face. His hands were covered in grime, and you could feel the oily substance stick to your face. The feeling made you jerk away from him, but he was already pulling out a clean cloth and wiping it away. 

“I’m sorry I said those things, my love. I know you are very capable of doing anything you put your mind to. Your persistence is one of my favorite things about you. I shouldn’t have tried to take that away from you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry I thought I could do something better than you just because of our genders.”

His words made your eyes swell. You had planned on still being mad at him after this. But seeing those crystal blue eyes and hearing his sweet words made you crumble all over again. 

“I forgive you.” You sniffed and wiped the tears from your eyes again. “Just don’t do it again.”

Sanji let out a laugh. “Oh, I will never be taking on a task Franky gives you again. You know how I said it was ‘hard to screw up’? It turns out that was wrong. I broke the whole pipe. Franky was pissed. He said he doesn’t let anyone touch that problem except you and him. Something about the pressure system needing a delicate hand, and only the two of you have the knack for it.”

It took a moment for his words to process, but you could feel your heart swelling. “Franky only lets me do that?”

Sanji nodded, guiding you towards the kitchen. “And a few other tasks. Says you’re the only one he trusts to do it right.” 

“I didn’t know that.” You had a vague feeling that you needed to cry for an entirely different reason now. 

He gave another laugh and sat you at the counter. “Well, you always excel at everything you do. It turns out I have a lot to make up for. What should we start with, chocolate cake or ice cream?”

[imababblekat]

Bayverse TmnT X Reader; Injury HC's

@hellhound911 ,"Hello I love your writings! I was wondering if I could request with the Bayverse turtles where the reader is in a relationship with the turtles (not all at once, but the little scenarios you do) and they come home hurt really bad and the reader begins to help bandage them up and they are trying to keep it together but they let tears flow and they were worried what would happen if their special turtle died and despite being hurt, the turtles comfort their lovers and say that they love them and they aren’t going anywhere? Things like that? Just a thought whenever you can/want. Thank you!"

◉Story Notes: character injury(nothing explicit), tiny bit of angst with added comfort

~xXx~

Leonardo:

Leo’s used to putting on a strong façade for the sake of his brothers, but when he’s with his s/o he feels that he can let that all go and show how hurt he truly is

Yet, the second he sees his s/o’s eyes start to glisten he’s already gently grasping their cheek, worry drowning out any major pain his body was in

He hates that he made them worry so much, and feels guilty at not realizing sooner how coming to them so completely battered might affect them

Leo gets it though, he could never even begin to imagine if something happened to his s/o, which is why he’s out there every night kicking bad guys to the curb

He’ll spend the night at their place, offering them comfort and making them both tea despite his injuries, just so they can hold onto him as much as they need for reassurance that he’s safe, and also so that he may hold them tightly as well

Raphael:

This turtle is constantly getting himself into sticky situations that him and his s/o have a running joke of “x amount of days since Raph got his butt kicked”, that it’s never occurred to him what kind of toll showing up to their place at o’ dark hundred, bruised and bleeding would build up to

It’s not till after one particular bad patrol that his s/o, furious and tear stained while cleaning his wounds, breaks down and practically shouts at him for his carelessness

He’s so confused at first, but once things calm down and his s/o can properly explain how worried sick they are all the time that there will come a night he’s not knocking at their window does it hit him how serious this is

Raph makes his s/o a promise that “ain’t nothin’ stopping me from seen’ your pretty face, doll”, and while he’ll be out there still playing rough, he's definitely more conscious about his actions

Donnie:

Before his s/o, Donnie was always the one to fix his own wounds, but now he had someone he could go to for help

It was still rare that he ever had to, but the few times he did he had always had the sneaking suspicion that it bothered his s/o

He didn’t understand why till he asked one night after a heist gone wrong, and his s/o, bleary eyed and holding back choked sobs, admitted how they were terrified of there coming a time where his wounds were so great they couldn’t do anything to help him

It hit him hard, because if something serious happened to his brothers, they could always count on his expertise medical skills to fix them right up

Now, in holding his crying s/o close to his plastron, his brain was already kicking into gear plans to teach them all he knew, so that should a time ever come, not only his brothers, but his s/o would be ready

Mikey:

Mikey’s not exactly careless, but he is free spirited, and sometimes that would get him into trouble

Before his s/o, his brothers always made sure that he was tended to first if injured during a fight, but when his s/o came into his life he was always quick to run to their place to be doted on

However, one night Mikey is getting a nasty gash sewn up on his bicep and despite still having the energy to crack some light hearted jokes, his s/o is uncharacteristically silent

It takes a bit of prodding but eventually they tearfully admit that, especially after the Kraang incident, they’re terrified that someone will take him, their shinning ray of light, away from this world

Mikey’s heart is so absolutely broken hearing this; he’s so quick to pull his s/o in for a hug, shushing their cries and swearing to the heavens that nothing would take him from his loving angel

~xXx~

[whumpgifathon]

Hello! And welcome to my brand new whump gifmaking challenge! I'm your host @aceofwhump and I'm excited to bring a whump challenge specifically created with gifmakers and visual artists in mind.

The challenge begins August 1, 2024!

Rules:

All gifs posted must be made by you. Do not just post gifs using the gif keyboard and claim them as yours and do not repost other people’s gifs. No AI-generated content please.

Various mediums are welcome! So long as the visual art aspect is the focus you can make whatever you want. Yes this is primarily a gifmaking challenge so everything is geared towards that but any visual art is welcome. If you draw, make moodboards, edits, videos, etc you’re welcome to participate!

You can use the prompts however you like. There is no wrong way to use a prompt. Feel free to interpret them however you wish. If you think it counts as whump? It's whump! Make it! Angst, comfort, emotional whump, small things, big things, it all counts so no need to over think it.

Tag all potential triggers (things like emeto, gore, nsfw, blood, eye whump, rape/noncon, etc.) When in doubt, tag it.

Tags to use when posting so I can find your ppst: #whumpedit, #whumpgifathon, #whump gifs

Please try to include the show/movie title, character names, and episode number (if applicable) somewhere either in your tags or in the post caption. This way anyone interested in watching it can find it easily.

An example of a way you can caption your gifsets:

@whumpgifathon | Day #: "prompt description" Show/Movie title, episode number, character name

And here's the prompt list!!! I hope you guys like it and find it inspiring but not overly challenging!

Remember that this is a relaxed event!!! I just want to offer my fellow visual artists some inspiring prompts and an opportunity to have some fun. So sit back, relax, and have fun!

Text version below:

Whump Gifathon - August 2024 Prompt List

Day 1: Space Oxygen Deprivation | Time Loop | Experiment

Day 2: Feeling Sick Fever | Infection | Delirium

Day 3: Environmental Earthquake | Storm | Hypothermia

Day 4: Captivity Chains | Caged | Rescue

Day 5: Water Shipwrecked | Drowning | Waterboarding

Day 6: Skills Try out a new technique you haven’t tried before using your favorite whump trope as inspiration!

Day 7: Emotional Crying | Panic Attack| Fear

Day 8: Hospital Ambulance | Intubation | Waking Up Disoriented

Day 9: Battlefield Explosion | Gunfire | Field Medicine

Day 10: Temporary Effects Blinded | Amnesia | Poisoned

Day 11: Recovery Sling | Pain | Seeking Support

Day 12: We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes Straight Jacket | Forced Injection | Hallucinations

Day 13: Aesthetic Highlight your favorite whump aesthetic

Day 14: Sleeping Nightmares | Exhaustion | Passing Out

Day 15: Trapped Impaled | Buried Alive | Locked Inside

Day 16: Western Cauterized | Bitten | Hanged

Day 17: Comfort Hugging | Blankets | Gentle Touch

Day 18: Broken Broken Bones | Emotional Breakdown | Broken Spirit

Day 19: Relationships What is your favorite type of whumpee/caretaker relationship? Platonic? Romantic? Familial? Show me!

Day 20: Blood Bloody Hands | Bleeding Out | Covered in Blood

Day 21: Fantastical Nonhuman | Resurrection | Magical Healing

Day 22: A Knock to the Head Headache | Knocked Out | Bloody face

Day 23: Travel Gone Wrong Car Accident | Plane Crash | Train Delrailment

Day 24: Magic Magical Exhaustion | Cursed | Possession

Day 25: Period Drama Pick a time period of your choice and highlight the whump!

Day 26: Everything Hurts and I’m Dying Grief | Resuscitation | Presumed Dead

Day 27: Superheroes Overused Powers | Powers with a Side Effect | Villain

Day 28: Torture Beaten| Flogging | Choked

Day 29: Restrained Zipties| Rope Leash | Medical Restraints

Day 30: First Aid Ice Pack | Stitches | Bandages

Day 31: Colors Highlight a specific color in your art

Alternate Prompts:

"Stay With Me" Begging Heat Exhaustion Bedside Vigil Self Surgery Taser Scar Reveal Collapsing Protective Electrocution

[milfhunter6698]

acquainted pt.2

Warnings: 18+ Smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, nakedness, fluff, angst, teasing, head cannons, imagines, slow living, hurt and comfort..kind of?Victoria’s right-hand, switch!reader & Victoria, just constantly fighting for dominance.

pairing: Victoria neuman, x female reader

notes: Hello again, guess what..? yes more Victoria head cannons bc why not :) since you guys liked the first one here’s another, this is kind of a longer version sooo. Honestly I find writing for Vic is quite niche like I’m lowkey enjoying myself wayy too much here but anyway woowhoo enjoy! and oh my gosh I love reading yalls comments they make my day feel free to ask questions or request any ideas like always i’m opened for any suggestions and thanks for the support. 

kisses and hugs

You stepped into the elevator, just about When you were about to press the button to close the doors suddenly, Victoria dashed in, only milliseconds before the doors would have closed on her.

You couldn't help but grin as your gaze met hers, “Hi,” You spoke softly as the elevator began to descend, Victoria greets back her tone casual. 

As the elevator came to a gentle halt, and the doors slid open, you stepped out, feeling the cool metal beneath your shoes. Victoria followed close behind, as you exited the building together.

Stepping into the night, The low rumble of car engines, the soft chatter of passersby, and the warm, humid air brushing against your skin was a soothing contrast to the tension within. It calmed your nerves.

“Hey, Victoria wait up," You called out, rushing to match her steps. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, a testament to the exhilaration that suddenly crawled under your skin.

Victoria glanced back at you, her expression neutral. "What is it?"

You moved closer, voice casual as you suggested, "Fancy grabbing dinner? I know a really nice place just around the corner. perfect for unwinding after a long day." You slipped your hands into your pockets, offering a friendly smile. 

Victoria studied you for a moment, her gaze as enigmatic as ever. After a pause, she smiled and shrugged, "You know what? What the hell, why not?" Her response filled you with excitement feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Lead the way then."

You walked through the city, the night air wrapping around you like a whispered secret. You led her to the place You had in mind, a quaint little diner hidden in the corner, away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets.

“After you,” With a smile, you held the door open wide for Victoria, the cozy warmth of the diner seeping out, inviting you in. 

The hum of conversation and soft music drifted out, enveloping you as you stepped inside. Making your way to a table, You gestured for her to take the seat, then followed suit, settling down, allowing the comfortable ambiance to wash over you.

As you entered, you shared a meal, and to your surprise, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You discussed your lives outside of work, laughed, and reveled in each other's company.

Leaving the diner, the cool night enveloped you once more. The warmth from within faded, replaced by the familiar hum of the city. A deep breath escaped you, a sense of calm settling in.

An awkward silence stretched between you, but then she spoke up, her voice beckoning you back. "Umm, y'know, if you're good to go back home, I'd be more than glad to walk with you on the way there."

Your heart raced, a smile curving your lips. "Yeah, sure. That would be great."

The city is quieter now, with fewer cars on the streets and only a handful of people scattered on the sidewalks. The lights from skyscrapers and street lamps cast a soft glow, giving the bustling city an almost serene vibe.

After a few blocks, You broke the silence. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of work. Do you even have a life beyond the office?”

Victoria laughs softly. “I could ask you the same thing. But yeah, I do. It’s just…busy.”

”Busy, huh?” You tease. “What do you do to unwind? Go to those exclusive rooftop bars? Attend art gallery openings?”

She chuckles. “Sometimes, yeah. But honestly, I’m more of a Central Park kind of gal. I like to jog there early in the mornings when it’s still quiet. It clears my head.”

”Really?” You genuinely look surprised. “You don’t strike me as the jogging type.”

”There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Victoria replies with a smirk. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not keeping me in line?”

You chuckle. “I’m a bit more low-key, I guess. I like to catch indie films in the Village, try new coffee shops around the city, and I’m kind of a podcast junkie. Oh, and I bake when I’m stressed.”

”Baking?” Victoria glances at you, intrigued. “That’s unexpected. What’s your specialty?”

”Cookies, mostly,” You say with a shrug. “But I’ve been known to whip up a mean apple pie. It’s therapeutic, you know?”

Victoria smiles. “Maybe I should start stressing you out more if it means we’ll get some cookies in the office.”

You laugh, a blush crept up your cheeks nudging her playfully. “You’d have to earn those cookies, neuman.”

You continue walking, the conversation flowing easily now, with laughter punctuating your words.

“Do you ever think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t running a company?” You ask after a while, your tone more contemplative.

Victoria thinks for a moment. “It’s hard to imagine anything else, but maybe something still tied to the city. Like urban planning or something in real estate development. I’ve always been fascinated by how this city evolves.”

”Urban planning?” You muse. “I could see that. You’ve got a vision, even if it’s usually about profit margins.”

Victoria smiles at that, appreciating the compliment. “And you? What would you be doing?”

”Honestly? I’ve thought about opening a bakery someday. Just a little place in Brooklyn, nothing fancy. It’s a pipe dream, but who knows?”

”Sounds like a great idea,” Victoria says sincerely. “I’d be your first customer.”

You smile, touched by her support. “Thanks. Maybe one day I’ll take you up on that.”

As you finally near your apartment building, there’s a comfortable silence, both of you enjoying the shared moment of stepping away from your usual roles. When you reach the door, You turn to Victoria, expression soft.

”Thanks for walking me home. I had a good time tonight…outside of work, I mean.”

“Me too,” Victoria replies, a genuine warmth in her voice. “We should do this more often.”

You nod, smiling. “Yeah, we should.”

Without a word, you wrap your arms around Victoria, pulling her into a quick but tight embrace. For a moment, she holds you there, slightly surprised, she hesitates before returning the embrace, her arms wrapping around your waist. 

The city noise fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, shared moment.

When you pull back, your faces are inches apart. You meet her gaze, and in that instant, something shifts. There’s no more need for words. As you moved back, your noses bump lightly, drawing a soft laugh from both of you.

But then, as if by some unspoken agreement, you lean in together, and your lips meet in a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s brief, almost testing the waters, but it’s enough to send a rush of warmth through you both.

When you pulled back, Victoria’s eyes search yours, gauging your reaction. She sees the same surprise and curiosity mirrored in your gaze.

She breaks the silence first, her voice low and a bit husky. “That was… unexpected.”

You smile, a touch of shyness creeping in, but you shrug lightly, trying to play it cool. “I figured it was about time we stopped talking.”

Victoria chuckles softly, shaking her head. “Fair point.” There’s a moment of lingering tension, not uncomfortable but charged with possibilities. You finally step back fully, giving her a last smile. “Goodnight, Victoria. See you tomorrow.”

”Goodnight,” She replies, her voice warmer than before.

Tonight, You were in the bureau finishing up, you celebrated your victory. The scent of sweat and alcohol fills the air as they toast to their success, raising their glasses to one of the most dangerous Supes taken down. You’ve danced, laughed, and loosened up, your bodies still humming with the energy that's fueled you through the endless days of work.

”I still can’t believe that we actually did it,” You were perched against a desk, a glint in your eye as you spoke watching Victoria, a cup in hand, the room a symphony of chatter and energy around you.

Victoria, smiled back at you, the haze of celebration and triumph illuminating her features. "Neither can I, But here we are.” She raised her cup in a silent salute. 

Smirking, you drained the last drops of your drink, feeling the warmth spread through your veins. Pushing off the desk, you made your way through the sea of agents, raising a hand in farewells and goodbyes. "Excuse me, gotta use the ladies room." Your voice rose above the din, as you made your way through the crowd, eager to find some respite from the intoxicating atmosphere.

As you stood before the mirror, you flicked on the faucet, allowing the water to cascade over your hands, the cooling sensation serving as a momentary reprieve from the chaotic celebration. 

The sound of the door opening startled you, bringing you back to reality. Your gaze shifted to the mirror, meeting Victoria's reflection as she stepped inside the dimly lit bathroom.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You let out a small laugh.

“Sorry about that," Victoria said with a playful grin, her gaze meeting yours in the mirror. "I needed a breather as well. This place is starting to spin."

As You dry your hands, glancing at the mirror, you see Victoria leaning on the sink's edge. A moment of tranquility hangs between you, during which she ponders softly.

”You know," her voice a low hum, "the job's been intense. At times it felt like it's been trying to beat me down, but maybe it's not all that dreadful working with you. Can't deny, we make quite a team.”

"Damn right, we do." You grinned, leaning back against the sink. 

As your pinkies slightly touched your gaze slid over your shoulder to meet Victoria's, trailing down to her lips before darting back to her eyes. 

Your heart skipped a beat, adrenaline practically buzzing off Victoria like pheromones. and you could see the tiny beads of sweat forming on her forehead, her eyes dilating, the pulsing blood beneath her skin, and the way her heart thumped against her chest, its rhythm drumming loudly in your ears.

With your honed deduction abilities, your senses were heightened to perceive the microcosm of her vital signs. 

It was this uncanny ability that gave you an edge, allowing you to read her like an open book. Your senses drank in every detail, Victoria’s hand moved instinctively to cup your cheek, her fingers brushing against your soft skin. Your eyes, fixated on her lips, slowly drifted shut, basking in the warmth beneath her touch. 

Close enough for your breaths to intertwine, she felt your heart thumping rapidly, the sound echoing between you. Your lips hovered tantalizingly close, the tension a heavy weight you shared.

”Vic…” You whispered, your hand finding its place on Victoria’s chest. Her own heart pounded in sync with yours. She then didn’t waste another second as she closed the gap, crashing her lips into yours.

The kiss was like a tender whisper at first. Soft, cautious, and fraught with uncertainty. But like two floes melting into each other, the hesitance soon dissolved into a warmth that enveloped you. Your lips parted and tangled, bodies pressing closer together, as if drawn by an invisible force.

Your hands found their way around Vic's neck, she pulled you in closer, your lips parting for a moment. The sensation of her soft groan against your mouth sent a warm, pulsating feeling racing up your neck, and spreading through your chest. 

Tongue traced the sensitive line of her neck, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. you left a trail of sucking kisses, marking her with small, tender bites along the length of her throat.

Shortly after that the moment was shattered by the abrupt swing of the bathroom door, revealing an unsuspecting bystander. 

You Immediately pulled away but your gaze lingered on Victoria, the flush of desire still evident on her cheeks. And the intoxicating allure of the moment. 

You cursed under your breath, your heart hammering against your chest at the abrupt interruption. Your eyes, still heavy from the kiss, reluctantly lifted to meet the gaze of the coworker who had just busted in the bathroom. A deep sigh left your lips, the air escaping in a frustrated puff.

You weakly managed a smile, your cheeks still flushed from the stolen kiss, before leaning back against the sink with a sigh. Your gaze met Victoria's, her eyes pleading, and she excused herself with a hasty retreat, the bathroom door swinging shut behind her.

Your mind raced, trying to process the unexpected audience, and the adrenaline from the unexpected exposure fizzling out the euphoria of your kiss.

Hair washing 

In the warmth of the steam-filled bathroom, the sound of the shower enveloped you. The sun's last rays bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a soft hue on Your naked form.

Your fingers combed through Victoria’s hair, A soft smile pulled at your lips as the warm lighting washed over her. The water beads that clung to her nose, cheeks, and eyelashes were hypnotic. Her thick, beautiful eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and your heart swelled with affection.

Her head leaned back, and you continued gently massaging her scalp, as the shampoo suds cascaded down her back, "You know, I really don't know why I let him do that." Her complaints about work merging into the background hum of the water. 

As you combed through her hair, her soft skin and the way the droplets clung to her features captivated you.

You hummed softly, nodding along while you secured Victoria's hair in a messy bun. The rich scent of shampoo filled the air as you massaged it into her scalp, fighting back a smile at her grumbles. Her words continued as she ran the soap bar over her neck, breasts, and shoulders.

“Are you even listening?" Victoria demanded, snapping you from your musings. "Yes, yeah, continue," You casually lied, fingers running through her wet hair.

"Okay so like I was saying..." She continued while you trailed your gaze down her form, admiring her. Your thumb gently grazed her jawline, tilting her head back under the water stream. A soft chuckle escaped you, amused by the situation despite Victoria's frustration. Her gaze dropped, meeting yours, and she stated, "I knew you weren't listening."

She playfully nudged your shoulder, and you playfully acted hurt, lifting an arm to where she hit you. "Ow!"

Rolling her eyes, Victoria smirked, dipping her head back into the water.

First time 

The weight of Victoria's body in your arms feels natural, as if you were always meant to be this close. As you finally reach your bedroom, You kick the door open, your kiss never breaking. The room was soon filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rustling of sheets as you laid Victoria down on the bed. Your hands roam over her body, exploring every inch of her skin.

She let out a soft, breathless cry as she was laid on the mattress, she reached out to touch you, her fingers trailing over the bare skin of your stomach and up to your chest, desperate to feel more. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," she whispered, her voice hoarse with want.

”Me too," You breathed out, your voice as ragged as hers. Your lips met once more, the kiss deep and hungry.

You slowly rocked your hips against Victoria's, your bodies melding together. As your lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of tender kisses, before claiming hers in a deep, passionate embrace.

Breaking away, you instinctively pulled her up, sitting her on the edge of the bed. Your fingers found the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head. letting it fall to the floor, discarding it carelessly, as your jeans followed. 

Victoria's breath caught in her throat as you drag the sharpness of your teeth, down the swell of Victoria's breast. Your fingers deftly unhooking the bra, letting the unlined cups fall beneath the curve of her lush mounds. 

Her fingers clutch at the sheets as the bra fell away, her body arching towards your mouth, desperate for more.

Your mouth descends, hot and eager, tongue tracing teasing licks, while your teeth gently nip at her sensitive flesh. Your hands cradle her, holding her close, your gaze flickering up to meet her eyes, hungry for more. 

She moans, her eyes locking on yours. Her hands reach up to grip your hair, her body trembling beneath your touch. The hunger in your eyes is mirrored in her own, a primal need that only her can fulfill. 

You lift your face from Victoria's breasts, panting heavily. Crawling up the bed, shifting your positions so you lay in the middle. She kisses you once more, not pulling away as she reaches down and tugs her own pants. With a swift motion, she slides them down her ankles, tossing them aside and flipping you over.

She climbs back on top of You, turning you on the mattress so that your head rests comfortably on the pillows. Sitting back on her knees, She takes a moment to admire your half-naked form, her hands itching to explore every inch of your skin. 

She runs her hands over your thighs, feeling the softness of your flesh, the warmth of your body. Her fingers trail up, caressing your stomach and ribs, mapping out the curves of your body. With desperation pounding through your veins, she finally reached down and hooked her fingers into the waistband of your underwear. She pulls them down, tossing them aside, leaving you completely bare before her. 

You looked up at her, eyes darkened with desire "Touch me," You spoke, voice barely above a whisper. 

She leans down, her lips finding yours once more, kisses deep and filled with longing.

Her hands continue to explore your body, her touch gentle yet urgent. Her lips fall open in a breathy sigh when she looks down at where you flushed and slick for her, and her hands slide down to hold your legs apart as she takes you in.

Victoria’s fingers trace slow, soft circles on your clit. Your lips meet and part, your kisses slow and tender. A whimper escapes her as your mouths press together, and you moan softly as her fingers tease your burning skin, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your body responds reflexively, arching into her hand, seeking more pressure and friction. 

Your hands come to rest on Victoria’s shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh as your need grew deeper. 

She eagerly explored your mouth with her tongue, savoring the taste of you. Humming softly, You tilted your head, seeking a deeper access. Her hand trailed down, her fingers teasing the heat between your legs. Just brushing against her entrance.

The gentle touch made you gasp, hips bucking forward involuntarily, seeking more contact. You moan her name, voice raw and filled with pleading. 

"Please," you whisper between kisses, fingernails continued digging into her shoulders, desperate for more of her touch.

She slid into you, two fingers at once, as deep as she could go. A choked moan escaped your lips, her eyes fluttering closed as she basked in the relief you felt. Your body welcomed her, your walls clenching around her fingers as she pushed herself down onto her.

She flexed her fingers upward, the curve of her knuckles pressing against your most sensitive spot. Your body trembled moans growing louder with each thrust. The sensation of her being inside you, the heat and the tightness, sent shivers down your spine.

It was overwhelming and intense. You could feel your climax building, tension coiling in your lower abdomen, like a taut bowstring ready to snap.

You looked up at Vic, eyes half-lidded and filled with desire. Your hands reached up, tugging at her shoulders, trying to pull her closer. "Don't stop,"

Victoria desperately ground her hips against yours, gasping at the friction of her underwear, her own pleasure building with each movement. Your foreheads touched, your breaths mingling, your gazes locked as she pulled you to sit on her lap.

Her fingers moved faster, her thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. She could feel Your body tensing, your climax approaching.

“Fuck, Victoria.” You cried.

Victoria’s hips, seeking more friction, more contact. She looked up into your eyes, her own gaze pleading , her body taut with need. 

“Don't stop," You gasped again, your voice ragged with desperation.

“Oh god, I can’t-“

With a final, powerful thrust, she pushed you into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body trembled, and your cries of pleasure echoed in the room. Your orgasm washed over, Her fingers still buried deep within you.

Tears of relief stung your eyes as you blinked them away and moaned into Victoria's neck, eyes tightly shut, lips reddened, and eyebrows furrowed in pure bliss.

As you slowly returned to yourself, your breathing ragged, heart hammering in your chest, you looked up at Vic. Eyes were half-lidded, expression a mix of ecstasy and exhaustion. She reached out, gently brushing away a tear that had rolled down your cheek. "Don't cry," she whispered.

You dropped your head against her shoulder, lips trembling as you struggled to catch your breath. You refused to look at her, the emotions swirling within were too intense to face her gaze. Your heart raced, as you tried to steady yourself. 

Victoria reached up, gently cupping your face in her hands and coaxing you to look at her. She brushed her fingers across her tear-stained cheeks, her touch soft and soothing. 

“Hey," she murmured, her voice gentle and full of compassion. "Look at me. It's alright."

You lifted your head back up, suppressing your own tears, and let out a shaky laugh. "Fuck, I uh-“ You stammered a hand coming up to rest on top of Victoria’s on your own cheek. “I’ve never felt this good in my life," You admitted licking your lips, your voice thick with emotion, the brink of overflowing.

Victoria smiled gently, her thumb caressing your cheek as a tender look filled her eyes. She lifted herself slightly to press a soft kiss to your forehead, then moved lower to brush her lips against your nose, chin, and jaw. 

“I know what you mean," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with understanding. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

You weakly chuckled, your head dropping back onto Victoria, forehead pressing tightly against her shoulder as you let out a deep sigh. In that moment, surrounded by her warmth and affection, you felt safe, and for the first time in a long time, truly cared for.

[finniestoncrane]

2.5k Event Request - Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader word count: 800 a/n: hi hello i am insane for tickling, it's such a sweet, soft, giggly activity and it also involves a bit of teasing and mischief, so it has cooper's name all over it!! cw: tickling, soft affection, soothing/comforting, fluff, rope bondage, teasing 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

"What's the matter, darlin'? Aside from the plethora of obvious factors that've got that pretty face lookin' so forlorn."

Cooper saddled up beside you on the worn and filthy mattress, his hands clasped in his lap as he tried to think of the next steps. Comforting people didn't come as easy to him these days, not for some time, but for you he was willing to try. Even if it meant making a few mistakes.

Breaking his fingers apart, he slammed one hand down hard against your shoulder, a gesture that was supposed to shake you out of your slump, but instead brought a small radiating pain over your skin.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just tryin' to cheer you up a little."

"And you thought that was the way to do it?"

"A little physical comfort is usually the thing to cure what ails ya."

He smirked, winking one of his deep set eyes as you rolled yours.

"Yeah, well I'm not really in the mood for that kind of comfort. Are you capable of laying your hands on someone without the intent of hurting them?"

While you wouldn't have minded some of Cooper's usual method of physical affection, you needed something more gentle. Something a bit less wild than what he offered most of the time. Even though the knot in your stomach began to coil as he lifted your shirt off, exposing your torso to the chill of the room.

"Oh, suddenly you don't like it when I'm rough and you get a little bruised?"

"Not that I don't like it. But it would be nice to see a different side to you. Something a bit… softer?"

"Is that so, little lady?"

He tipped his hat up, offering you a clearer view of his face as he stood up. Echoes the chivalrous cowboy he once was were still present, but he was the same mischievous fiend you'd fallen for in the Wasteland. This was only emphasised as he held out a length of rope between his hands, raising an eyebrow at you as he waited for you to accept his unspoken offer.

"This is your idea of softer?"

"Trust me."

You did trust him, so you brought your wrists together out in front of you and let Cooper tie them together, watching carefully as he stood back to admire the knot Then, with his palms placed gently on your shoulders this time, he eased you backwards until you were laying down, his fingers hooked under the rope to guide your arms upwards, resting over your head.

Resting beside you, Cooper began to stroke your neck, his fingers dancing delicately over your skin as you began to squirm, pleasantly surprised by how gentle he was being and how nice it felt to have him caress you so lovingly.

"There it is, that beautiful smile. Couldn't have slept right if I'd known you weren't wearing it."

Your grin widened in response, opening into a gasp as he began kissing your throat, following your sternum down until his face was between your breasts. And with his hands now tickling your arms, fingers moving up and down slowly, he pursed his lips and blew soft, warm air across your nipples. As he watched them harden in response to the tingle of arousal, Cooper reached down to the side of the bed, fumbling around in the cabinet. When he found what he was looking for, he held it out triumphantly.

"Knew I saw it earlier. Might seem like some mangy old feather duster, but you ain't seen what I can do with one of them yet."

Cooper's laugh echoed yours, deeper and darker than your light giggle as he kissed over your stomach. His free hand lifted the duster, feathered ends still surprisingly soft, and he ran it up your thigh, groaning as you twitched when it passed over a particularly sensitive area.

Each time your hands lifted off the mattress, he gently pushed them back down, tutting slightly before kissing you again, your cheek, your arm, your hip. And when the hand was free, when he was sure you were keeping yourself in check, he tucked his fingers below the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and tossing them to the floor. Then, with his palm pressed between your thighs, he spread your legs open, biting his lip as he watched your folds part, your cunt wet and waiting.

Your back arched off the mattress as he ran the duster up your inner thigh, his own body reacting to your wanton display of desire, the sound of your laughter as he let the soft, tickling tendrils of his tool flit over your delicate, soothed skin. He wanted you, but he could wait. Seeing you smile was enough to tide him over for now.

[reds-ultrakill-brainrot]

Hello!, I've been reading your works and i love how you depict each character, anddd I have a request for V1, V2, and Gabriel!

How would they handle a reader who is a bit more rough love (i.e; light punches, gentle shoves, snarky words but an undertone of 'hey i love you'), and tend to be a little more defensive, reason for it being.. anything you want it to be :D Also if its okay, could this be a 'read as platonic or romantic'?

Pumpkin, You're Gonna Kill Me

roughhousing reader headcanons (included; V1, V2, Gabriel)

x reader content (read platonic or romantic)

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V1 - it would take them a while to recognise your actions as affectionate, and would probably result in a bruise or two on your end (you tried punching a war machine, if anything that's your fault) - half of your snarky comments are going to be met by blank stares. while this isn't particularly productive for conversations, they like fucking with you in their own way. you never know if they are offended or if your joke flopped (it's neither, they're a little shit and abuse the fact they don't have facial features) - their genuine reaction to said comments is indifference, they aren't usually the type to be spurred on by words. if you say something with especially poor timing the most they are likely to do is to turn and give you a full body 'did you actually just say that' look - sparring will most likely become a common activity. it gives you a way to express affection in a way you're used to while giving V1 a chance to work on using only as much force as necessary. no weapons are involved on their end, but you would be free to use anything besides a gun (unless you're willing to be a blood donor) - while they were never designed with conflict management in mind (at least not the kind that doesn't involve bulllets) they aren't too bad at it. they will quickly recognise that you get defensive and give you space during conflict. quality time is usually how they comfort you, and if you're feeling particularly defensive and insecure they will offer a sparring session. they would never usually rig a fight in your favour, but giving you a few more chances to hit them usually helps cheer you up - after some time of them getting used to it rough contact will be returned, with less force to account for your squishy exterior. on the odd chance they shove you too hard or use too much force their wings will droop in an apology, that or they will give you a free shot to shove them as hard as you want - while they don't care as much about your defensiveness as some others might, it will still prompt conflict at times. if your ego or insecurity is keeping you from resolving conflict they won't give you a pass. they aren't entirely immune to negative comments, if you end up crossing a line or refusing to admit and accept your mistakes they will distance themself until you apologise V2 - they would probably match your energy, if not take it as a sign you want to spar. such aggresive physical contact is endearing to them, you could hardly hurt them even if you wanted to, so feel free to go all out

- i imagine surprise roughhousing would soon become commonplace, you full on tackling them out of nowhere with a "think fast". it's all fun and games until they do it to you, expect a couple bruises after that - any half-hearted snarky comments would be met with playful glares or a shove in return. despite their—at times—staggering ego, they aren’t particularly bothered by snide remarks, serious or not - the both of you would have a very similar way of expressing affection for eachother. while others would look on with mild shock as the both of you do your best middleschool bully impersonations, the both of you understand what lines you can and cannot cross - this would, however, backfire slightly in regards to emotional vulnerability and conflict. V2 can come off as cold or insensitive at the best of times, this is only worsened when one or the both of you are upset. they aren't particularly equipped for comfort, it will take a lot of effort on both of your parts to work through this, especiallly on V2's half - on a serious and slightly less healthy note, V2 would take advantage of your defensiveness. they know how to prod at you to provoke you. while they would normally have no reason to do so, i imagine if they are particularly annoyed at you they would fall back onto purposefully provoking you - similarly, apologies of any kind are going to be rare. a lot of your conflict resolution is going to boil down to leaving eachother alone for a while, before coming around again with an "are we cool?" Gabriel - it would take him by surprise at first. he isn't used to super casual interactions with other people yet alone anything boisterous. this will probably lead to a few miscommunications — him taking a few snarky comments as genuine insults. while he would come to understand this is how you express comfortability and closeness, he probably won't mimic or play along - even when he knows you don't really mean it, snarky comments will prompt dramatic reactions. such reactions will often be followed by a pause as he realises you weren't serious. he's embarrased every time he misses the joke, but a flustered Gabriel was most likely your goal anyway - the one time he tried to copy your behaviour he accidentaly punched you with much more force than he intended. you received one big ass bruise and a myriad of apologies afterwards - he will eventually become used to your behaviour - well, most of it. i doubt he'd ever get entirely used to that type of physical contact (light or not); he will always jump slightly if you shove or lightly punch him. he isn't scared or angered by any means, merely confused and slightly annoyed. he might understand your reasoning, but it just isn't how he acts, and as such there is always a level of disconnect - he would inevitably clash with your defensive reactions. he has a strong sense of justice and gets especially angered by lying in any form - white lies included. if you don't own up to your faults or mistakes he will be blunt about his disapproval. he won't let you get away with trying to save your ego, he'll expect you to fully apologise for any disrespectful behaviour, wether you see it as disrespectful or not - unlike the others he will eventually prompt you to explain why you act defensive. he wants to know it isn't prompted by anything he is doing. he wants you to feel comfortable with him, both physically and emotionally. he's happy to help you work on it, but most of the effort will still need to be on your end

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thank you very much for the request. as usual requests are always open - i'm thinking i might open up slots for short stories as well - but in the meantime i will take headcanons and music matches. thanks for reading

[hotchs-big-hands]

The Slaughterhouse

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader part 1 5.3k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.

Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

Hiiiii everyone! I'm really happy to start my new series! It's a vast departure from my previous series lol but I hope you all enjoy regardless! As stated tho in the warnings it's gonna get dark so feel free to skip if you're not comfortable! But if you'd like to be tagged then please let me know! Happy reading 💖💖💖

A thin trail of red tinged water trickled down into the drain, not quite blending together more so than the red slowly spread out in the clear liquid like drops of crimson ink.

"Has Pen got a cute bandaid I could use, you think?" You asked the woman beside you as you rinsed a papercut you'd gained from the insultingly tall stack of paperwork on your desk. The woman, Emily Prentiss, shrugged slightly, tussling her silky, black hair.

"Maybe. I'll text her and ask."

"Thanks."

It didn't take long for the door to the women's restroom to burst open, almost slamming into the wall as a frantic Penelope Garcia rushed over to you, a pink first aid kit in her bejewelled hands.

"I'm here, I'm here! Nurse Garcia to the rescue!!" She cried, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. You chuckled at her as Emily stepped out of the way.

"Thank goodness, I was really starting to have second thoughts about my survival rate here."

Penelope was quick to spring into action, setting the kit down and upon opening it she retrieved an antiseptic wipe.

"Give me your hand, I'm going to clean the area." She instructed, eyes a little narrowed as she began to concentrate. You winced slightly when the antiseptic stung a little, but soon you were sporting an adorable pink bandaid with a Hello Kitty pattern on it. You held your hand out to admire it with a grin.

"Thanks so much, Pen!"

The ditzy blonde woman smiled.

"You are so welcome, my lovely."

"Come on, we need to head back to the bullpen before somebody notices we disappeared." Emily said pointedly, glancing at Penelope who returned the look. You grimaced slightly and took the empty bandaid wrapper to shove in the trashcan under your desk.

"Yeah true, we should go before I end up with another stack of paperwork." You muttered, heading towards the door and pulling it towards you. That somebody was none other than your up-tight, impersonal boss and unit chief Aaron Hotchner. Well, impersonal with you that is.

 Your time in the BAU had only been a mere year, but it was long enough to form relationships with your coworkers. Whenever possible, you attended ladies' nights with Penelope, Emily and the only other woman in the BAU; Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, spent time with the ever charmer Derek Morgan whilst he worked on his house projects and happily listened to the young Doctor Spencer Reid as he spoke extensively about chemistry or some sort of engineering related topic. Hell, sometimes you even offered an ear to the oldest member of the team; David Rossi, discussing his passion for cooking and other such things from his life.

But no matter what you tried, there was no breaking down the walls around Aaron Hotchner and at this point you'd begun to stop trying. And it hurt like hell. Not because he was your boss, you didn't care so much about that, but because you happened to like him very much. Probably too much even. He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Even now you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes wander over to glance at him, to take in his tall stature and handsomely seasoned features. And you knew he had a kind and loving side to him as well from the interactions you'd witnessed between him and your coworkers. But the same couldn't be said for you. He never offered that olive branch to you, never spoke to you besides work related discussion when on cases. Hell, you basically knew nothing of his son besides the snippets the others had told you of the elusive boy. Not from Agent Hotchner, but from Emily, Derek, Penny...

There was no way of saying it didn't sting, because it did very much so. And it had been this way right from when you walked through the door per section chief Erin Strauss' recommendation. Your interview was tense between yourself, Hotchner and Rossi with the two of them seemingly being in disagreement about you. Rossi, on one hand, was adamant about your capabilities and of what you would bring to the team, whereas your now boss was reluctant. Nitpicky. Wanting to find something to use to keep you from the position in the team. And when he realised you were officially in the team on your first day, walking into the bullpen with your slightly busted brown box of desk essentials and trinkets, was when the walls were raised to impenetrable heights.

Sighing quietly, you returned to the bullpen, fingers of your uninjured hand fiddling with the balled up wrapper. Your eyes flicked to the familiar windowed office above the main desk area. The blinds were open. He no doubt knew yourself and Emily had disappeared for a short while. You scowled a little to yourself. What did it matter? As long as you got your work completed all the same then it didn't matter if you were at your desk the whole day or not. And it didn't matter what he thought, or if he even did take notice of your absence or if he knew why you were gone. Or if he worried over you. It didn't matter, you told yourself.

"Hey sweet thing, what's that frown for, huh?" You blinked as you were brought to the present by the voice of your friend Derek Morgan. You turned in your chair to face him with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, I'm just annoyed I got a papercut. Like are you kidding me?" You said humourously and the dark skinned man laughed, his teeth gleaming under the artificial office lights.

"Aww I'm sorry, did you accidentally touch these abs or something?" His eyes were shining mischievously now and you rolled your own with a scoff.

"Yeah yeah, you wish. The culprit was this pile of paperwork though."

In response, Derek formed a heart shape with his hands, only to break it when he moved his hands away from one another, pouting sadly as he slumped back in his chair. You giggled quietly and rolled your eyes before you returned your attention to the casefiles on your desk. But it wasn't long before you spotted the colourfully dressed Penny again as she rushed towards your unit chief's office, meaning there was a case about to unfold. You eyed your coworkers, who returned the glance, then automatically made a move to close the casefile you had open on your desk and added it to the paper tower. You rose from your seat just as the office door swung open again and Penny reappeared with Hotch behind her. As she made her way to the conference room the tall man leaned over the walkway in the direction of your colleagues and yourself.

"We have a case. Be in the conference room in 2 minutes." He said curtly, eyes flicking between each face. They lingered on you for a moment, brows pulled together in a deep frown, then moved away as he followed the blonde woman. Over time you'd come to understand that look; this case was bad. Very bad.

JJ was already in the conference room when you trailed in behind Reid, Rossi following behind you and closing the door as the last person in the room. You took a seat near the far side of the round table from the doorway, Emily moving to sit on your left. Your eyes drifted around the room, brows furrowing very slightly when you couldn't find the unit chief in his usual position at the table. The chair beside you made a sound as it was pulled out and to your horror you realised none other than Derek Morgan had taken Hotch's seat, which meant...

You heard Aaron Hotchner clear his throat to your right as he shifted to get comfortable in the chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight. You didn't dare look his way, instead turning your head to Emily with a slightly skittish look in your eyes. To your horror she was already looking at you, a devilish smirk battling its way on her face.

"You okay there, (L/n)?" She asked sweetly. You scoffed.

"Always am."

You could have sworn you heard the man beside you draw in a sharp breath.

"Let's get started." He said in his smooth, deep voice.

JJ had laid out the casefiles for everyone to look at, but as you reached forward to grab your copy a tanned, hairy hand gently grasped your wrist. You flinched, body turning to the culprit as none other than your boss. He stared back, brows furrowed deeply and his emotions guarded.

"Careful."

You knew all eyes were on the two of you, the burn of the stares was almost unbearable, like fire ants crawling all over you. And then Penelope cleared her throat, ending the moment. Hotch retracted his hand from your wrist carefully and you turned your attention to the two blonde women about to present the case.

It became very apparent almost immediately why your boss was hesitant for you to open your casefile.

You had seen all manner of depravity in this field of work. And while you didn't exactly enjoy seeing the bodies of victims, even the most gruesome crimes didn't really affect you as much as they used to. But what you didn't expect was seeing the horribly mutilated corpses of women, women who had a common similarity with you. Every single one was fat like you. Well, as best as you could tell through the extent of the mutilations to the bodies. With the side-by-side comparison of the photos of the victims as they were alive and happy, their cheerful smiles besides the butchered bodies was... difficult. Hell, you could effortlessly imagine a photo of yourself alongside theirs with how similar their bodies were to yours.

The voices of your colleagues around you seemed distant as your eyes read the current details of the case. Over the course of 4 months, seven women of varied ethnicities, between the ages of 19 and 25, had all been found dumped naked in a variety of locations in a large town in Texas. Their bodies were butchered and there was evidence of violent sexual assault. A chilling detail was each victim had had their blood drained entirely. You couldn't stop your eyes from drifting back to the photos of their faces.

"(L/n)?"

You blinked, looking up to see who had spoken. All eyes were on you, causing you to wince slightly.

"Yeah?"

Beside you, Emily placed her hand on your arm.

"You alright?" She asked quietly. You were quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah I'm... fine. I was just reading the details." You managed to murmur.

"Any thoughts so far?" Rossi cut in, staring at you intently.

"Mhm, this killer holds a lot of resentment towards fat women from the way they've sliced and butchered their bodies. The blood draining is a bit unusual, however I don't think it's for ritualistic purposes."

"What do you suspect it to be about?" JJ spoke. You narrowed your eyes a little as you thought about it.

"I'm... not sure. Maybe there isn't a purpose other than to get rid of the mess."

Beside you, the leather of the chair Hotch sat on creaked under his movement when he closed his copy of the casefile and pushed away from the table.

"We'll continue to discuss theories on the plane. For now, get yourselves ready to go. Wheels up in thirty." He concluded and stood up from his seat, everyone else following along. You closed your file and made a move to follow behind Emily, when the familiar touch of Hotch's hand grasped your wrist gently again. "(L/n), a word."

Helplessly, you watched everyone file out of the room and you sighed gently. His hand dropped away and as you glanced down at your feet you could feel his scrutinizing stare.

"I need you to remain by my side for this case." He said bluntly.

"Huh?"

You frowned at him. This certainly wasn't what you thought he was going to say. You watched as his brow creased.

"I want to keep an eye on you."

What? You blinked at him.

"Why's that, sir? I don't quite follow."

"I don't want to be insensitive but you have seen the victims the unsub targeted. I just want to make sure you're safe." Hotch explained in as gentle of a way he had ever spoken to you. Oh... You swallowed thickly and nodded once.

"I see. Uh, well I appreciate it, sir. I should be okay though, I have you all around me after all."

It was your boss' turn to frown now, evidently displeased with your response. But he didn't push it, picking his casefile off the table and fixing his watch around his wrist.

"If you insist. But I don't approve of this though."

You nodded and cleared your throat, following him as he stalked out of the conference room. As he made a right turn towards his office, you continued forward until you were with the others again. JJ was the first to break the air of curiosity.

"What did Hotch want?" She asked you as she checked she had everything she needed in her go bag. You sighed and crossed over to your desk.

"Said he wants me to stay by his side, given the nature of what we're dealing with."

"And are you doing that?" Derek asked, eyeing you pointedly. You shook your head.

"I don't really want to have to hang back from working on this case as much as I intend on doing so."

Emily lightly nudged you when she approached your desk, her bag slung over one shoulder.

"Maybe he has a point though." She offered but you scrunched your nose up.

"I also don't really feel like spending the whole time with someone who acts like I'm as worthy of their time as a plank of rotting wood would be." You muttered to yourself as you shoved the casefile in your bag, missing the uncomfortable shared glances of your team mates when the subject of your conversation approached the group.

You felt Emily nudge you again and you straightened up, sealing your bag shut.

"Alright, alright I'm ready to go n..ow..." she wasn't looking at you, you realised, and your body tensed when you heard him speak.

"Let's head out." Agent Hotchner said roughly and turned to leave, face sour. Damn, you strongly hoped he hadn't heard you just now but judging from his expression you knew he must have done. Sighing softly, you picked your bag up and swung it over your shoulder. And followed behind the others to head to the airport. It was never a good idea to start a case off with conflict.

Work began immediately when the team met up with the Police department in Memphis, with everyone splitting up to take care of different tasks. Much to your relief, Hotch had teamed you up with Derek to visit the bar the latest victim had been last seen before her disappearance and murder. Despite the time in the day it was rowdy inside, a significant hum of conversation ever present as the two of you navigated around to interview staff and patrons. So far, there had been no luck though with finding any information on whoever was responsible for the crimes.

As your eyes drifted around the room they settled on a young woman who had just entered the bar. She stood around five feet six inches tall with dyed red curls which ended around her shoulders and her figure was similar to your own, albeit slightly bigger. Someone the unsub would target, you thought to yourself bitterly. Her eyes found you and she nervously approached you, gaze darting around. Nudging Derek subtly, you met the girl halfway across the bar. She was shaking.

"Hey, I'm agent (Y/n) (L/n) and this is agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. Are you alright?" You asked her gently and she cleared her throat.

"You're... you're investigating the murders, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet. You nodded and brought your hands up to take hold of her arms.

"I understand it's very frightening right now, but we're here to do whatever we can to find this person."

Derek eyed the young woman, gaze sincere but analysing.

"Do you have anyone of note who could be a person of interest?" He questioned her. Her eyes flitted to him.

"I... I'm not sure. There's a lot of people who treat us badly," She shifted around, folding her arms close to her body. "J-just five months ago there was a girl who got- um, assaulted because she rejected someone. She was like us, a bigger woman."

Derek's frown deepened.

"Is there records of the assault?"

She shook her head.

"Only of her initial report and visit to the hospital. She was um, too scared to say who it was." She scrunched her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. "H-her name was Amelia Dougherty."

A coldness sunk deep within your abdomen and you fought off the twitch of your lower lip. That was the first victim found dead four months ago. You offered a gentle squeeze of her arms.

"What's your name, lovey?" You said sweetly, feeling the young woman relax under your touch slightly.

"Carla. Carla Reynolds, ma'am."

Your thumbs soothingly brushed against her arms, hopeful she took it as encouragement.

"Well, Carla. I want to thank you for talking to us today. Right now though I need you to head home, protect yourself. Try your best not to go out and about alone if you can help it, yeah?" You instructed her and she nodded.

"Okay..."

With one last squeeze, you let go of her and smiled faintly. Beside you, Derek slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle of card.

"If you think of anything or see anything suspicious, call my number. Thank you for your time, Miss Reynolds." He said politely, but not unkindly and you both watched as she quickly left the bar. You exhaled softly and turned to the man beside you.

"We certainly know the possible trigger that started this whole murder spree." You murmured. The man beside you nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention to make a call.

"We'll head back to the station with what we know. I'm gonna ask Garcia for any files on assault reports within the last few months before the murders." He said as he pressed his phone to his ear.

"Sure, I'll just have one last sweep around."

As the man turned to make a call, you let your eyes drift around the room again to analyse everyone. None seemed to stand out, nor were there any other larger women around at this point. Distantly, you could hear Derek chatting lightly to Penny on the other end of the line but you paid little mind to it. But as you turned around to make your way outside a flurry of people entered the bar and, as a consequence, someone bumped into you and caused you to stumble.

"Hey! Watch it, man!" You heard your companion snap, but whoever it was had long since disappeared into the crowd. You sighed and fixed your clothing.

"It's fine, Der. We have more important things to focus on right now anyway." 

You could tell from the expression on Derek's face that he was reluctant to let this drop, but he didn't challenge you. And at this point he had finished the call anyway, so without any further delay the two of you headed outside to drive back to the station.

There were no patterns between any of the assault victims from before the murders. All were a much wider range of women, a wider age range, varying body types and there was a multitude of perpetrators committing these assaults as opposed to one, who was suspected to be acting alone committing the murders. And this didn't even include male victims either. The first day of the case was chalking up to being a frustrating dead-end.

Standing in front of the whiteboard that was covered in tacked on pictures and scrawled out notes, you rubbed a hand over your face as you felt your brain turn into cotton in your skull. It was then you felt a presence beside you, causing you to stiffen slightly.

"Got anything?" You heard the soft, deep rumble of Hotch's voice. You exhaled. As you glanced to your side you realised how close to one another you were and the scent of his cologne hit your senses. It made your head feel a bit fuzzy.

"Other than what we already have, no. Maybe just theories on why the unsub picked out these women in particular." You murmured.

"Let's talk about them."

You turned to him with a slight nod, eyes reluctant to leave the board.

"Well, the photographs; the body language suggests a lot of discomfort. The women don't really like being the centre of attention. They're insecure." You began, motioning to the pictures of the victims from when they were still alive. "The unsub will have taken advantage of this, approaching the women in clubs and bars to flirt with them."

Hotch hummed, his focus entirely on you.

"It would seem likely, yes."

"But why go with the guy if they were so insecure?" A different voice chimed into the conversation, causing the two of you to turn. Behind you, Spencer stared with a furrowed brow and you sighed gently.

"If you're in a position where you've never had anyone show interest in you, or at least never seem genuine about it, it really messes with your self esteem. So having someone spend time with you flirting with you will inevitably cause you to drop your defense a bit. Because, well, you've never experienced this before." You turned to the board again and grabbed one of the markers to write some notes down. "With this I can only imagine the unsub is definitely above average in attractiveness but not so much to the point where the victims wouldn't trust their supposed interest."

"Most likely in the late twenties to early thirties. But we'll continue the profile with fresh eyes in the morning." Hotch said and he motioned to address the others. "We should stop for the night and check in to the hotel. We'll be up early in the morning."

There was a mutual sound of agreement from your colleagues but before you could say anything more to your unit chief, he was walking away briskly and pulling his phone out of his pocket to seemingly make a call. He never seemed to linger around you more than what was required of him. You puffed out a breath and capped the pen in your hand again before setting it down. To your left, you were aware of Emily approaching you.

"Sooo..." She began and you huffed.

"Oh, don't start."

"I didn't say anything!"

With a scowl you turned to her, noting the grin she was trying desperately to fend off. You folded your arms.

"Don't be sly with me, dumbass." You spat and she chuckled.

"You know I don't mean any ill-will. Just wondering how you're getting on."

You scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah sure you are."

"Well, I'm sure it's not easy working beside the man you're definitely not interested in!"

A tired grumble left you as you crossed the room to grab your casefile.

“Girl, we are literally trying to solve a serial murder case right now. I got no time to be thinking about anything but this.”

Emily chuckled and leaned her weight onto her hand braced on the table in the centre of the room.

“I know you’re struggling hard not to think about him though.”

You jabbed her with your elbow and scowled at her.

“That’s enough out of you. Now come on, we’re done for the day.” You said and tucked the manila folder under your arm, not missing the little chuckle from the raven haired woman. Once everyone was ready to depart, you found yourself in the same car as the girls and Reid, sitting in the back as you scrolled through your phone. There was a group chat you all used, originally created for strictly case related situations, but with Garcia around there was no way it was going to remain professional for long. And so now it was a mix of light-hearted conversation and sharing as well as more serious messages. The aforementioned had sent a series of messages in response to knowing you were all retiring for the night and you idly sent your own, typically the one to try and send things that would bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The lights from distant buildings and streetlamps would occasionally light up the interior of the car, illuminating your grip on your phone and the face of Reid sitting beside you in the back seat.

Before long, you had reached your destination following behind the car Derek, Rossi and Hotch were in. After parking up, you all grabbed your bags and trailed in behind the two eldest members of the team as they strode towards the reception desk. After a few minutes, the remainder of you decided to take up the couches in the foyer, realising Hotch and Rossi were taking longer than you thought to sort out the rooms. This was not a good sign, only further proven when they turned to the group, mild agitation on their faces. You sighed.

“Oh no, they don’t look too happy, do they?” You mumbled to Derek, leaning towards him. He chuckled.

“No, they do not. I can only imagine what that means.”

And soon enough the situation was brought to light.

“There was a mishap with the booking and there’s no longer enough rooms for one each,” Hotch said flatly, his shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to double up.”

Shit. Your eyes flicked to Emily immediately and your heart jolted upon realising she was staring at you with a widening grin. Oh no.

She pushed up off the couch and grabbed her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, JJ.” She declared and the blonde woman’s head shot up, gaze switching between the two of you. And much to your dismay, she too stood up and followed Emily to grab their room keys.

“Sure.”

Your eyes drifted towards Derek and Reid, feeling slightly hopeful knowing Derek didn’t often enjoy sharing with the young doctor. It startled you when he winked at you, then dragged the wild-haired man to stand up with him.

“C’mon, pretty boy. It’s you and me now.”

Reid seemingly had nothing to say, his brow crooked as slight confusion settled in. Now all that remained was the last two eldest members. Slowly, you turned to look at the eldest.

“...Rossi?”

“Actually, you’ll be sharing with me.” the man beside him spoke, drawing your attention. Hotch eyed you carefully, his brows pulled together slightly. You swallowed.

“I could always take the single room..?” you offered weakly.

“No, I would feel more at ease if you were sharing.”

Rossi raised his brows as he sniffed loudly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“And I need my peace and quiet, so I will take the single.” he said and before you could protest the seasoned agent spun on his heel and retreated towards the elevators.

You sighed gently, slowly rising to your feet and awkwardly approaching Hotch.

“Okay… I guess that leaves us then.”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.” he said, brows pulled together. You held your tongue.

“I don’t.”

With a slight nod, he turned away to find the elevators and you quickly followed, pattering after him with your go-bag held at your side. Hotch reached the elevators quickly, holding the doors open for you then pressing the number for your floor. The ride up was silent, painfully so and despite being less than a minute long it felt as though the seconds had been dragged out to an hour long. Tiredly, you dumped your bag in front of you, eyes wandering around the steel walls around you the longer the ride took. Should you speak? You had no idea, unsure what to even say to the man. As though feeling the same discomfort, Hotch cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another in the empty space the both of you were in. The chime of the elevator stopping to open its doors startled you, blinking a few times at the sound.

As you turned your attention to your bag, Hotch’s hand appeared in view and briskly grabbed the handles of your bag and picked it up. You gasped, looking up at him and realising he was watching you. You drew in a sharp breath.

“Um, thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Once again, he held the elevator door open with his elbow, his hands full with your bag and his. You didn’t comment on it, instead smiling sheepishly and uttering another ‘thank you’ as you passed him. He led the way again, stalking down the carpeted corridor until he stopped in front of a random door. He placed the bags down and made a move to unlock the door, the keys jangling being the only noise in that moment. You both heard the click of the lock coming loose and, after picking the bags up again, Hotch pushed the door open to step inside. But as you followed, you bumped into his solid form and earned a quiet grunt from him, not expecting him to have stopped so suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered aloud, inching around him to see the problem- oh. Hm.

One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the left wall, not the two beds you were both expecting. Fuck.

“I’ll return to the front desk and see if there’s anything they can do to change this.” Hotch said and you turned to look back at him.

“You know there isn’t anything available, though. Let’s just, um, head in and sort out in the morning.”

The longer you stared at the seeming displeasure on his face, the worse you began to feel about sharing with him. Great, he probably was regretting this now.

“Are you certain?”

It made you frown.

“I’m tired, sir. I just want to have a shower and get some rest.” you muttered. He let out a heavy sigh, deepening the uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, but relented by following you inside the room and closing the door when he had deposited the bags onto the bed.

“You can take the first shower.” he offered quietly and your face twitched into a miniature smile.

“Thanks. Won’t be long. You can choose which side to sleep on.”

Unpacking your toiletries and your (regretful choice) of pyjamas, you tiptoed towards the shower room after kicking your shoes off. Hotch had already made claim of the table in the room, spreading out his work across the surface. You closed the door behind you quickly when he shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, electing to restrict yourself from seeing him in anything less than his standard clothing for your own wellbeing.

You began to undress, untucking your shirt from your trousers, when you finally noticed something truly off.

Your FBI ID was gone. With one brow quirked, you searched through your pockets and in your toiletry bag, expecting to have maybe misplaced it in a sleepy state. But no… You swallowed thickly and opened the shower room door again. Automatically, Hotch’s head moved to your direction from where he was seated on the side of the bed nearest the hotel room door and he tilted his head.

“What is it?”

You cleared your throat.

“U-uhm… My ID; it’s gone.”

Wooooooo spooooky idk idk I HOPE PPL ENJOYED THIS FIRST PART it's not gonna be jolly from here on out until the end 🥴 if you'd like to be tagged let me know!

Taglist:

@southernraven, @deludedfruitcake , @tgskitten , @zaddyhotch , @cm-slvts-31 , @dins-cyarika @midnghtprentiss

[brokenpieces-72]

Task force 141!gangster au x reader

Enemies?

This is part 4. Leave a comment if you want to be tagged in future posts. Navigation

TW: Police violence

The next week or so is… difficult. You send notice that you need time off. It gets rejected and Graves continues to come by to check in and all you can tell him is you sat in your apartment. Graves doesn’t comment, only shakes his head and leaves.

One night you finally leave your apartment, going off into the cold night. As you’re walking though, a couple of officers notice you. The rest is a blur.

You’re in pain, sore and can barely stay standing as you walk. You find safety in an all too familiar alley, where you had met Soap for the first time. You sat down and hugged your knees feeling sorry for yourself once again. Everyone was against you now. You couldn’t trust anyone it seemed. You let the cold seep into your clothes and your bones and prayed for something. You didn’t know what but something, something you could trust, someone who could tell you the truth.

Your father was always truthful. He encouraged you to be open with him, and he was open with you. If something was bothering you, and you didn’t want to talk about it, he would offer a trade. A story for your story. When he came home you would notice something bothering him, and offer the same. Never a lie between you too…but apparently there were secrets.

You were a long way from your apartment. A cab wouldn’t likely pick you up anytime soon. You recall the note Ghost had given you, as you shoved your hands into your pockets and pulled it out.

You wasted little time typing the number into your phone and texting it.

Y/N: Hello? I was told to text this for a ride.

???: On my way. Where are you?

Y/N: I’ll meet you near the library, downtown. It’s not far from where I am.

???: Red scarf yeah?

Y/N: yes.

You head over to the library, your bruises screaming at you along with the cold, making your entire body beg for comfort and warmth. You started wondering if you should go inside the library’s when a fancy black vehicle pulled up. The driver window rolled down and a man with dark skin peeked out.

“Y/N L/N?” He asks. You nod, and he gives a concerned look at you. “Back seat.”

You nod and open the door to the car, climbing into the back. The driver looks at you through the rear view while you shiver in the back.

“Kyle Garrick. Call me Gaz.” He says. You give a small nod and a tiny smile. The car starts moving. When it takes the wrong turn, you get a little nervous.

“My apartment-“

“Not taking you there. Someone wants to talk to you first.” He says, without looking away from the road. You sit in silence, leaning back in your seat. Soon you nod off to sleep, the familiar ambience of the car and your exhaustion getting to you. Your father used to insist you sleep on the way home. You enter a mid state of sleep, where you’re partially aware of what’s around you while your body relaxes and rests. As Gaz checks on you he decides to take a longer route to the destination, texting his boss.

When you finally wake the vehicle is parked and Gaz gets out, opening the door for you. He’s wearing a leather jacket, white shirt and dark jeans. You ease yourself out, head starting to hurt, the chill of the cold weather trying to reenter your body, and the remainders of sleep still trying to exit. At least your black eye wasn’t swollen shut and you could still walk. Silver linings.

When you look up to see where your driver had brought you, you nearly slip on the ice. Thankfully Kyle helps you off, before you could do more injury to yourself.

“Let’s get you inside before you do more damage to yourself.” Kyle teases, while leading you inside a club, one that was not only expensive but was known to belong to the main suspect in the case. John Price. Did Ghost sell you out? No blame there. Even still, you weren’t expecting a free ride included in meeting the head of the TK141 gang.

Stepping inside the place is empty save for a woman behind the counter of the bar typing away on a laptop and a larger man carrying in crates of alcohol and carrying out crates of empty bottles. The woman looks up at you and you swear you’ve seen her before. Maybe a work friend of your father’s. She just gives you a nod, and you return it. Gaz takes off his coat and strides in.

“Nik, ya need help?” He asks the large man. Nik just gives him a nod and Kyle picks up a crate. You stand there in the foyer, shifting nervously in place. You turn your head to the woman who notices your black eye. Without a word she reaches down from behind the counter and comes back up, with a rag filled with ice. She comes round the counter and gives it to you, and you put it to your eye immediately.

“Drink?” She offers.

“Water.” You croak out not noticing your throat was drying until she said something.

“John is in the far booth. I’ll bring it to you.” She says before going further into the bar. You slip off your jacket, but keep your beanie and scarf on, shuffling with your still wet boots across the wood floor.

He’s just a person. Another man. Just a man. You’ve met plenty of men, passed plenty of men on the street. What’s one more?

Except he’s the man who was with your father in the last moments. That’s what the reports said. Putting him away had been a goal for sometime. Even if you hadn’t joined the force you would find a way to find his killer. You were the only one left of your family as a result, and one of the only ones who was at the funeral. You recalled seeing a man at your father’s grave after the funeral. You didn’t say anything to him that day. Graves was more concerned with getting you back in the car, and giving you time to grieve in your own. When the police showed you sketches of Price you kept your mouth shut. Personal connections to a case weren’t permitted. Now here you were about to sit down with him and…talk? You wondered if you should record everything on your phone. Maybe salvage what you could of this case. Doubt it would matter with your own officers jumping you earlier.

You feel like you’re walking to the principal’s office with the ice on your eye, getting into another fight at school. When you reach the booth for a split second you expect to see your father sitting across from Price about to remind you not to resort to violence. The booth is empty except for a larger man with a simple t-shirt and a beard. His head is down and there’s half a drink left next to him as he looks over some papers. You stay there looking at him for a moment before deciding to climb into the booth across from him.

The space is quiet. You watch Nik and Kyle continue to moving things around to prep the club for tonight. The woman returns and gives you the water, asking about your eye again.

“John give the poor girl some notice.” She says, almost glaring at him.

“Almost done Laswell.” He says, without looking up. You look at the woman recalling the name. Your father had met with her a couple times when you were younger. She had aged a bit since then, a few age lines on her face, but still the same as you remember. The hair bun too.

Laswell huffs at Price and turns her attention to you. “Call if you need anything.”

She put a hand on your shoulder before walking away back to her work. Price finally turns his attention to you.

“You have questions?” He asks.

“A few.” You croak before going to take a sip of water, and stopping yourself.

“Stupid to bring you all the way here just to poison you.” He points out, recognizing your hesitation. You sip and find normal water. Time would tell. He’s looking at your sorry state. It’s enough to make shift in your seat.

“Cops?” He asks. You shrug. It’s bad enough they jumped you, it’s worse he was able to pick up on it. “Cops don’t like us.”

“Us?” You ask.

“Take after your father I’ve been told.” He says pressing his lips. You drop your gaze to your hands. “He never told you did he?”

“He told me everything.” You argue.

“…he tell you about how he helped me get started?”

You go very quiet. No. No he was a cop.

“Your father was helping us while doing his job. We do things differently, doing what needs to be done rather than everything we can do. Your father helped keep those limitations enforced, while keeping us out of them. He gave us the information, we went after it when the cops couldn’t. Opens the cases wider.”

You take a moment to think about it. More often than not you had been handed files and told to just store them in evidence boxes. Investigations rarely solved, court avoided, and you getting told to just do your job.

“Like what?” You asked. Price smirks, and shows you a paper with a few photos. A jewellery store, one that Farah and her group had hit more than once.

“You’re familiar with blood diamonds? Well you need probable cause to do more digging, so Farah breaking in and making accusations, raises some flags. Flags that lead to warrants. The Los Voqueros, not only get pharmaceuticals they jump on illegal drug shipments. Ones that big pharmaceutical companies use in their own products.”

“And what about you? What do you do?” You ask.

“We help those who can’t help themselves. We get our hands dirty in the right places, so others can stay clean.” He says, shifting and folding his hands, looking right at you.

“We?” You ask.

“Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Nik, Laswell, myself…you?” He gave a slight smirk.

“I’m a cop.” You say.

“So was your father. A damned good one. He let the right people go, caught the ones that needed to be put away.”

“I’m not my father… I’ve requested to be taken off the case, Graves is disappointed, my coworkers just beat me up, I lost the only people who cared about me because I thought I was doing the right thing… I’m nothing like him.”

“Not expecting you to be.” He says seriously. That was the first time you’d heard that from anyone other than your dad. He never expected you to be a cop or to be perfect. Only that you do your best, and be your own person regardless of your path. You take another sip of water.

“What are you expecting?” You ask him.

“Not sure yet. Heard you’re quite the artist.” He says. “Seen some of the work. Soap showed me the first one you made him. Certainly draws attention. Heard you had one for the Los Voqueros.”

“Doubt Alejandro would want me anywhere near them. Bridges have been burned, I can’t put out the fire and walk across it again.”

“Doesn’t need to be the same bridge.” Price offers.

“Oi boss? You still need me?” Gaz asks, dusting off his hands.

“Take y/n home. They need some rest.” Price says. Gaz gestures for you to follow him and Price gives you a business card.

“Call if you need anything.”

You nod and leave with Gaz, taking the business card with you. Laswell says goodbye as you pass her on the way out.

The drive home is surprisingly casual, with Gaz offering to let you ride passenger. When you arrive at your apartment though you spy Graves own car parked nearby. Shit. Gaz looks at you and notices where you were looking.

“Want company?” He offers. Bringing him would make things complicated, but also keep you safe. Alone, it was 50-50.

“Is there somewhere else I can stay?” You ask.

“Get your stuff, I’ll wait.” He says nonchalant.

You go upstairs to your apartment. Graves is there and sees you. Sees you were in a fight. He actually comes over and looks at you, checking your black eye.

“The fuck happened now?” He asks, frustrated.

“Some officers jumped me.” You tell him. Moment of truth. You see his confusion and mild shock. Did he plan it? Was it his idea?

“You need to go to hospital, fill out a report.” He instructs.

“I don’t want to… I’m tired, I just came to get my stuff, stay somewhere else for the night.” You explain. Graves at this point doesn’t want to try and press you. You’ve been struggling, and if you’re safe that’s his main concern. There worry in his eyes, as if he’s deciding to argue with you.

“You text me when you get there.” He tells you.

“Yes sir.” Graves leaves, not noticing Kyle’s car. You come back out with a backpack of your stuff and Kyle takes you to a hideout.

“Price finally talked to them.” Ghost tells Johnny over a game of pool. There’s a couple empty bottles place directly on the table for them to maneuver around.

“So?” Soap says, taking another shot pretending to not care. He hits a few balls but no sinks.

“You gonna keep calm?” Ghost asks. Their conversation is interrupted by a knock at the door. They both turned their heads to the sound. Ghost looks back at Soap while he makes his way to answer it. “Are you?”

Soap doesn’t have time to answer before the door opens. Gaz is standing there, and nods at Ghost.

“Brought a friend.” He says stepping aside. Soap steps a bit closer as Gaz walks in.

Soap sees you with your hood up, your old leather jacket, and your red scarf, shifting your weight on a slight limp. You see Soap.

You consider making a run for it.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara

[sleeplesssmoll]

Schneider returns as a Carbuncle.

This is the first chapter of the Schneider Caruncle fic I've been screwing around with. The whole thing may never make it online, but I can share this bit (until I get embarrassed and delete it).

The story is called Tarocco.

Orange orchards.

Doves in flight.

Bullets and bloodstains.

Her thoughts shifted into abstraction before she could collect them. The river of time flowed steadily and she drifted on its current along with trickles of Dust. How long has she been here? Perhaps she's always been here. It didn't matter since she will never know the answer.

Or so she thought.

A two-dimensional line appeared before her, beckoning her to grab hold. Someone's calling her. She grasped the line and it reeled her out of the currents of time. Dust convened around her, giving her spirit a physical body but it wasn't enough. She needs more before she reaches her destination wherever that might be–

Crimson eyes opened to the sight of a golden spinning wheel. The currents of time were neither cold nor wet as they receded away from her.

“The wheel summoned a Carbuncle?” A voice asked from behind her.

She sprung onto all fours–

Fours. That didn't sound right. She looked down at her chocolate colored paws and then behind her at a ridiculously fluffy tail.

She can't fight like this! She's no bigger than a kitten! How did this happen? She glared at two young women observing her. One's wearing a ridiculous top hat concealing her face. The other had a head of fiery long hair.

“Shall I take care of it, Timekeeper?” The redhead raised her wand. Green eyes honed in on the furball in front of her like a hound on a rabbit.

The Carbuncle extended her claws in response and bared her fangs. She won't go down with a fight against this! This! Old woman!

“That won't be necessary, Sonetto. The wheel must have brought her here for a reason.”

Her words failed to allay the Carbuncle’s hostility. She's been in this situation before. She can't remember when or how, but the feeling of being cornered felt at home in her anxious body.

She's going to slash that stupid hat into ribbons and scratch out her target's eyes the moment she gets closer. If she's lucky, the bodyguard will be too busy helping her friend to chase her while she makes her escape.

Top Hat crouched down on one knee like a prince about to propose. “Hello, my name is Vertin and this is my assistant Sonetto. We're not going to hurt you.” Sonetto nodded but her gaze didn't soften in the slightest. She tensed as Vertin lowered herself within the bristling Critter's reach. Sonetto's free hand gripped the back of Vertin's jacket, ready to yank her away at a moment's notice. What a protective little dog this “Vertin” has.

A memory laced in gold and coated in slime pricked at the back of the Carbuncle's mind but it refused to surface. She's too focused on the opening before her to dwell on them. She approached Vertin cautiously.

The gullible fool extended her hand. “Can you understand us? Nod your head if you can.”

The Carbuncle resisted rolling her eyes. What next, roll over? Play dead? She nodded and nudged the offered hand with her head. Feather light fingertips scratched under her chin in a way that was loathsomely comforting. Stick to the plan. Be strong. She's not a pet! Ugh, this form is messing with her mind and Vertin finding the sweet spot behind her ears wasn't helping her focus. A genuine purr escaped her throat against her will.

“See, Sonetto? She's friendly. We should bring her back with us.”

That snapped her out of her trance.

The Carbuncle locked eyes with her prey, finally able to see past the brim of her hat–

Hair like threaded silver. Tempestuous gray eyes rivaled storm clouds. A sweet splattering of freckles across her nose.

Oh no, she's gorgeous.

Vertin gave a small smile when the Carbuncle nuzzled her hand. “Would you like to come home with me?”

An echo of a memory played in her mind.

“What if I say, I can provide you with shelter?”

The Carbuncle pushed herself into Vertin's arms. Shelter. This person will protect her. She can feel it.

The scent of rain. A red umbrella. A stolen kiss.

Vertin scooped her up and held her against her chest. “I'll take that as a yes. You'll be safe with us while we figure out why you're here.”

The rhythm of Vertin's heart stirred something in the Carbuncle.

“Don't forget my heartbeat on the right.”

The memories slipped away as quietly as it came when Vertin pressed her face into her fluff. An interesting decision for someone she just met. Not that she was complaining.

“She's so soft! Sonetto, you need to feel this.”

Now she's complaining. She hissed as the other girl neared.

Sonetto yanked her hand back. “It appears she only likes you.”

“She'll warm up to you, right?” Vertin said, removing the fluff from her face. “Let's head back with the others and introduce our newest member.”

The introductions to the other members were anticlimactic. It seems as though a Red-Eyed Carbuncle isn't the strangest thing Vertin's brought home.

Vertin gave her a grand tour of her land. Apparently the entire space around them existed in her Suitcase and she provided shelter for her crew of arcanists. She gave them sanctuary like a benevolent lord over their people.

And now Vertin is her lord too.

“And this tower collects Dust,” Vertin explained. The Carbuncle perked up. Maybe if she gathers more Dust she can take on a more useful form! Seeing her excitement, Vertin shifted her in her arms to give her a better view. She knew she was supposed to be admiring the tower but now she's so close to her lord's face.

What a view indeed. Her eyelashes are so long. They reminded her of feathers when she blinked.

“A growing Carbuncle needs their fair share of Dust. I'll make sure you get get your fill.” Ah, what a generous lord. When was the last time someone took care of her? Memories of dollar bills and black coats spilled into her head.

Eleven older sisters. A stressed mother. An unanswered prayer.

She provided for all of them. Does that same family float amongst the currents of time like she did? Her ears flattened against her head as she struggled to put names to blurry faces.

Vertin stroked her head. “Are you alright?”

She isn't.

But she's better off with Vertin for the time being. She'll gather as much Dust as she can until she can find herself again. She purred to assure her keeper that she's fine.

Her lord didn't look convinced. “Maybe Mr. Apple can make a translator for you. He told me stories about a puppy he made one for in the past.”

“Vertin, are you still playing with that Dust bunny?” Regulus shouted from the direction of the main building. The self proclaimed rock pirate raised her shades. Amber eyes settled on the duo. “C'mere and crack open a Dr. Papper with me! It's a new flavor.”

“Ok, but let me show her the orchard first. Last thing, I promise,” Vertin answered. “She's one of us now so she needs the whole tour.”

“She?” Regulus balked. “How can you tell that's a little lady in your arms?”

Vertin looked down at the Carbuncle who met her eyes, just as curious. “I don’t know. It felt right.” She lowered her voice like a guilty child. “Did I get it right or…” The Carbuncle licked her cheek and extinguished her doubts. It's the closest thing to a kiss she can give. “Regulus, did you see that?” Vertin scratched behind her ears again. “I was right. You're such a good girl.”

Tingles ran down her spine. Perhaps life as a Carbuncle isn't so bad.

The burnette shook her head. “Yep, after seeing that I'm convinced that's another girly alright.”

“What do you mean?”

Regulus smirked without elaborating. “Don't keep me waiting too long!” She vanished inside before Vertin could respond.

Vertin tightened her grip on the Carbuncle. “One last stop.”

The orchard had a few different trees. A peach tree, an apple tree, a plum tree. However, near the back was an orange tree.

It smelled like home.

“Do you like this one? It's my favorite too. Tarocco blood oranges. They're supposed to be the sweetest oranges in Sicily.” She walked over to the tree and placed her palm against it with a somber shadow in her eyes. “Sotheby and Druvis made this orchard possible. The trees will bear fruit if we give them a special potion.” She glanced back at her fuzzy friend nestled in her arm. “Although, I'm not sure if you can eat these.”

The Carbuncle would have gasped if she could. She mewled and caressed Vertin's cheek with her own. Simply being near the tree brought her images of a grand orchard. Her…uncle's?

The branches were so high and her hands were so small. An older sister helped her pick the ones out of reach. Another helped her carry the overflowing basket.

The more she struggled the more formless the memories became.

This must be a sign that she is exactly where she is meant to be. Dust, shelter, and bridges to old memories. Vertin was right, she must be here for a reason.

“Are you trying to persuade me by acting sweet?” She received another mewl in response as well as another Carbuncle kiss on her jaw. It worked. “Alright, alright. I'll let you try a tiny bit. If all goes well, you can have more.” She made her way back to the main building. “I never asked your name. Do you have one?”

Probably. But she doesn't remember. She shook her head.

“Is it alright if I give you one for the time being?”

She nodded. Her lord could call her Fuzzball or Pochi for all she cares. As long as Vertin holds her like this, she can be anything. “Tarocco, because you're so sweet.”

It's sappy. Lame. Almost embarrassing.

And it made Tarocco melt in her arms.

[yumiis]

i was wondering if you could do nick x reader with reader being in denial/oblivious to nick's flirting with them. like they take it as a joke every time bc they don't think someone would ever be in love with them/like them?

YESS i love this trope you've found my soft spot

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 are you seeing anyone? ; nick

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

type; drabble

read below!

Nick wanted you to be his. Super badly. However, every time he made a move, you'd just laugh it off or ignore him completely. It really upset him, but he wouldn't give up on you that easily.

You'd always been the one asked out as a joke, flirted with as a joke, it was always 'ask out Y/n as a joke!'. It absolutely killed your self esteem. It also caused you to not ever dare to reciprocate feelings to anyone, because you knew it would always be too good to be true. Nick included. You figured it was some inside joke with all the guys.

Your phone repeatedly buzzed, Nick's contact appearing on the screen. You slid over to the answer button, "Hello?.." He smiled as you answered, "Y/n! I was worried I wouldn't get ahold of you. Do you wanna do something today? I'm free, the rest of the guys are out." You were floored. This had to be a joke. "Uhh.." You thought for a minute. What could the harm really be? "Sure. What'd you wanna go do?" He smiled widely to himself, finally! He'd get to be alone with you and show you that he really does care, and he's not flirting with you as some cruel joke.

"We could just go to the mall or like, a museum or something? Just to hang out. And uh, don't worry about money! That's on me." He spoke smoothly, no hesitation in his voice whatsoever. You took a deep breath, not knowing what to expect. "O.. Okay. Gotcha. I'll be ready soon then? I can drive over and meet you at the house." He shook his head, "Nah, I'll drive over to you. Be there in thirty!"

In almost exactly thirty minutes time, Nick was knocking on your door. You flattened your shirt, answering the door. "Hey!.." You softly smiled at Nick, noticing he wasn't wearing anything too fancy. "Hey! You look nice. Nicer than me at least, heh." You chuckled a little, "Yeah, heheh.." You were trying your hardest to accept that maybe this wasn't a joke, but it was hard. "Well, you ready? I got all my shit in the car. The mall doesn't close 'til about 8, so we got time!" You nodded, "Ye— yeah!"

You guys spent about an hour or two at the mall, shopping around. Nick threw out some compliments and offered to buy you so much, but you had to decline almost every time. You just felt too guilty if you took that much money from him. He insisted on at least buying you lunch, to which you said was fine.

"So, Y/n," He started as he ate his chicken sandwich, "Are you seeing anyone?" Your face and body went cold, "Huh?" You were confused why he was asking you that. You knew it. This was all some ruse set up by the boys to make a fool out of you. "Like, are you going out with anyone?" You slowly shook your head, "Uhm, no, I uh.. I guess not." Nick looked a little sad, "You wouldn't consider this seeing eachother?" He nonchalantly asked you. You perked up. "I— Oh! Oh, uhm!.."

Nick tilted his head, "Or if you don't like me in that way and i'm taking this wrong that's fine! Just tell me that, because I know you kinda ignore or laugh off any time I make like.. any flirtatious comment.." He smiled sheepishly. You sighed, "No, it's not like that.. I, uh, I do like you like that. I was just like," You paused for a second, waving your hands around a little, "Bullied in school. So I was always the one that was asked out as a joke." He stared at you in awe. "I thought this was all some joke."

"This was never a joke," He placed his hand on top of yours, "Me liking you was never a joke. The guys were really all out today, they all actually really want me to start seeing you. They all really like you, dude." You smiled softly, looking back at Nick. "So? Are you seeing anyone?"

"... Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

[mazeinthemiroh]

hello!!!! i love ur work sm omg i’m so excited that requests are open <333 i wasn’t sure if they’re still open or not since your pinned says closed but if you did close them feel free to ignore this! anyways i wanted to a request a little skz reaction to their s/o complimenting them after they’ve had a tough day and are kinda doubting themselves? they’re the best boys and i refuse to believe otherwise

stray kids reactions to their s/o cheering them up after a bad day

genre: fluff, hurt / comfort

warnings: none

a/n: sorry i forgot to change my pinned when i announced requests were open 💀 my bad

chan

chan definitely has his bad days. and sometimes he feels like nothing, nothing will be able to lift his mood. but, to his surprise, you prove him wrong every time. without even meaning to, you will soothe his mind and somehow make his day better just by existing. just by being you. the natural praises that come out of your mouth when you talk to him make him realise his worth <3

minho

contrary to chan, minho doesn't have a lot of bad days. but that means, when he is faced with them, they hit harder than he would like them to. he really appreciates it when you're just there for him. when he's ready to talk about it, he will explain his frustrations. after this, you run your hands through his hair and tell him how proud you are of him. he would never want to admit it, but those words made him very emotional. you touched his heart deeply.

changbin

word of affirmation is important to changbin. when he comforts others, he tends to be very supportive with his words, showing that he cares whilst also trying to provide a solution. sometimes his own problems can't be solved. nevertheless, when you see him upset or sense he's worried about something, he really appreciates the praises and the words of comfort you give him. he realises, in these moments, how much he loves you.

hyunjin

hyunjin definitely relies on your words of wisdom and comfort. when he has bad days, he feels like there is a grey cloud following him, constantly there and something he just can't shake. even with loved ones around him, it's hard to shift out of his negative head-space. so when you leave your little words of encouragement ringing in his ear, telling him how well he did today, telling him how well he did always... he tears up. words such as these keep him going.

jisung

hannie can feel down about himself when he feels like he isn't doing enough. it hurts him, the idea that he should be doing more. the idea of being in a slump. he can't stand it. all he can think about is coming home and burying his face in the crook of your neck. and when he does this, you cuddle him close and praise him for how well he has done today. "you tried your best. and that's perfect to me." he will look up at you with shining eyes and whisper a 'thank you.' he is truly touched.

felix

unfortunately there are a lot of times when felix doubts himself. it can be quite disheartening to watch this sunshine boy talk badly about himself. he deserves to be praised because he doesn't give enough to himself. you recognise this and always try your best to offer sincere words of love and support. even if he might not believe your words at the time they are spoken, they will stick with him in harder times, and he will be grateful that you were there for him on those days.

seungmin

seungmin can get frustrated with himself if he isn't learning things as quickly as others or if he's not hitting the notes he wants to hit. you giving him compliments on these days, even if it's something small like 'you look handsome today', you know, something he hears every day, suddenly means a great deal more to him now that he's sad. you make him much, much happier.

jeongin

jeongin can get down about himself when he compares himself with others or makes little mistakes frequently. when he feels he isn't improving, his mindset can turn quite negative and he may feel disheartened. so he really does appreciate your efforts to lift him back up. it's nice hearing the good things he has done from the one he loves rather than his own negative thoughts.

[j-onedrabbles]

Hey hey can I pls request going on an Ice skating date w Hyunjin but he ends up getting hurt and getting a concussion and you have to call Felix to help. I’m in the mood for some fluffy comfort ❤️‍🩹🥹

✧   PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ✧   CW: GN!READER, FALLING, CONCUSSION, MENTIONS OF NASUEA AND DIZZYNESS, BRIEF MENTION OF READERS STOMACH, WINTER SETTING, PET NAMES (BABY, BABE, BUB) ✧   WC: 1K ✧   NOTE: when i remember i also write angst and fluff and some people want that 😃

     Winter was on the horizon which meant a lot of cute winter dates—walking in the snow, coffee shop dates, holiday window shopping, just to name a few. Hyunjin had found an ice skating rank nearby and asked his partner if they wanted to go. Obviously, the idea of a cute ice skating date was worth braving the cold.

     Hyunjin was glad the day they decided to go was one of the slower days. Not too many people there so he could have a peaceful date with his partner. They still went with as many layers and face masks to hide themselves from cameras, and to keep warm.

     Hyunjin paid for the rental skates and the couple sat down to switch into the skates before taking to the ice. Hyunjin got on the ice first and held onto the side wall before offering his hand to Y/n.

     “Have you ever done this before babe?” Y/n asked as they joined him.

     “Maybe once when I was a kid.” Hyunjin sighed as they slowly moved along the side, gloved hands joined together.

     Hyunjin kept Y/n on the inside near the railing to keep them safe more than anything, just like he would when they were walking down the street. They moved slowly on the ice as people skated by. Occasionally stopping to take a few pictures for keepsakes. 

     The couple spent probably an hour skating around the rink before calling it a day and going to get something warm to eat. Hyunjin made sure Y/n got off the ice safely before he got off. But got too confident and slipped, falling back on the ice.

     Y/n gasped and rushed to help their boyfriend up as he groaned. They’d seen a few people fall so no one made a scene when the undercover idol fell. Y/n managed to help him up and get on a bench.

     “You okay?” Y/n fretted over him 

     “Back hurts and I hit my head,” The male groaned

     “Imma grab our shoes real quick, okay?” Y/n asked

     Hyunjin nodded as Y/n kissed his forehead quickly and went to the shoe storage area and grabbed their belongings. Getting back quickly and helping him switch back into his street shoes before switching hers.

     “How do you feel baby?” Y/n asked as they saw him leaning forward and covering his eyes.

     “Dizzy, too bright.” Hyunjin groaned, head just feeling too heavy.

     “I’m gonna call someone okay babe? Stay here real quick.” Y/n pulled out their phone and looked to see which of the guys would be free. She knew the producers were busy working on things. Jeongin was at a vocal practice, and Seungmin and Lee Know were at Music Core. They were pretty sure Felix was off like Hyunjin.

     They grabbed the skates and took them back to the desk as they clicked his contact, letting Hyunjin know they would be right back.

     “Hello?” Felix answered

     “Hey, are you busy?” Y/n asked handing both pair of skates to the worker before making their way back to their boyfriend.

     “No. Aren’t you and Hyunjin ice skating?” Felix asked

     “We were. We got off the ice a little bit ago and Hyun slipped and fell. He hit his head on the ice.”

     “Is he okay?” Felix sounded worried

     “Said he feels dizzy and the light is bothering him.” Y/n took a seat next to their boyfriend.

     “Head hurt, any nausea?” 

     Y/n moved their phone away and asked the dancer if he was feeling anything else.

     “Really bad headache,” Hyunjin said

     “Said he’s got a bad headache? You think he got a concussion?”

     “More than likely. Send me what rink you’re at and I’ll come help you guys back to the dorm. Try and wait outside for me.” 

     “Okay. We’ll see you soon.”

     Y/n hung up and slowly helped their boyfriend up after sending their location to the Aussie. Y/n helped their boyfriend up and out of the area. They sat him down on a bench as they waited for Felix.

     Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them and hid his face in their stomach. Trying to block the light that was bothering him and just wanting his partner near him right now.

     “Does your back hurt?” Y/n asked him, rubbing his shoulders.

     “Yeah,” He mumbled.

     “We’ll get you home soon. Sure Felix is almost here.” Y/n assured him as a car pulled up next to them.

     Felix got out and walked over to the two. “How’s he doing?”

     “Not better but not worse,” Y/n sighed

     “Let’s get him back to the dorm.”

     The two got the idol into the car and made it back to the dorm. Y/n made sure his room was dark so the light didn’t bother him more. Felix said he would call their manager to let them know what happened. Y/n thanked him and started unwrapping Hyunjin from his outer layers.

     Felix came back into the room with some medicine and told Hyunjin to rest for the day. They didn’t have any big schedules this week, nothing to film, just rehearsals but the company was still going to put out a notice— not saying anything as to the real reason being the idol went on a date and fell.

     “I’ll text you if we need anything.” Y/n thanked him

     “I’ll call Chan and let the guys know to be quiet when they come home,” Felix told them before going back to his dorm

     Y/n sat their boyfriend up to have him take the medicine before tucking him under the covers. “Lay with me,” Hyunjin said

     Y/n shrugged off their layers and crawled under the covers with their boyfriend. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them, laying his face in their chest and closing his eyes. “You’re the best partner I could ask for.” He said 

     “Get some rest bub. You need to get better and let that pretty brain heal.”

     “Your brain is prettier,” He mumbled

     Y/n laughed a bit and kissed the top of his head, lulling him to sleep.

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

T A G S ✧ @junebug032 @the-sweetest-rose @hanjingin @hyunjinshairband01 @miintmochii @ohish @changbinisabigboy @dreamingaboutjisung @tattywood @stepout-09-15 @cello--190 @just-randomm-stuff @greysweaters @hazyspirts @mhasimp666 @slay-and-gay @smally97 @bloom4yu @itstorimf @linoyouknow @fjseung @jungsodesjoyyy @jjwhorehouse @carinathefairy @litepowee @babyphotos @inniecore @jeonginssa @dolceem @stvrfir3 @tasteskzsworld @ultimatestayandminoronce @seungincore @tinyelfperson @greyyeti @dimpledsatan @camixiez @chansbabygirlsstuff @thatlonelyalto @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @donut-crazs @meloryme @rubyshoedpixie @cecepop15 @punks-rad @somsungiex @mcratyomama @lilylouise @stayconnecteed @kiko-o-luck @hyunjinswifeee @red-airhead @niaalove @emyferra08 @lovesunshinefelix @bunniieesstuff @enhaskzbtstxtsvt @nandinxoxo @producedbyy3racha 

© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[latenuitrambles]

hello, can I make a Hurt/comfort request for Honkai Star Rail please? (Tw, Self Harm, Religious Trauma)

Jing Yuan finding reader walking around outside in the snow in the middle of the night, only wearing a white shirt, shorts and a large blanket scarf. (The shirt has specks of red, due to self harm).

Reader has had multiple breakdowns back-to-back in secret due to reliving religious trauma (ie. Being forced to pray and participate in services of the church that hurt them for the sake of work) and since they've had their major mental breakdown (self harm) are now out of it (kinda sad-yet-giggly mood in the self destructive way, thinking that they don't deserve good things and will never be 'clean' despite showering repetively (catholic guilt x100)) and now playing with the snow with their bare hands.

(If your not comfy, feel free to decline since it's pretty heavy, If you do the request thank you very much!)

✒️

Note: Thank you for the request! I wrote this in a bullet point style instead of an actual fic because that felt better. Also I didn't focus too much on the religious trauma as I have had very little interactions with Christianity and was not brought up catholic so I don't have a lot of knowledge on the subject and I didn't want to misrepresent a heavy issue! I used more vague religious trauma, hope you like it!!! Also whoever requested this if you ever need to talk you can always talk to me!! take care of your mental health!

Not proof read!!

TW: This is a heavy piece. Warnings for self-harm, depression, mental breakdowns, religious trauma, blood. Please do not read if you think this might trigger you or make you relapse. Your health comes first, take care of yourself <

Jing Yuan found you wandering alone at night in the cold, your white shirt covered with specks of blood, eyes lifeless.

He said nothing as he gently carried you inside the house you guys shared, putting you down on the bed as he went out to get the first aid kit

He gently and expertly cleaned and dressed your scars and gave you some medication.

As a soldier he was no stranger to blood or wounds, so I think he would be very calm. At least, on the outside. On the inside he would be panicked and worried for you, but he understands that it would help you more right now if he was calm and gentle.

He has dealt with soldiers who have depressive episodes and trauma breakdowns so he would be very good at gently calming you down, making sure he doesn't trigger you more, continuously asking you if what he was doing was comfortable with you.

He would be very patient if you want to talk about it. And when you do open up to him about your religious trauma, he would be very patient as you tell him everything. He wishes he could go in the past and stop all these things from happening to you but for now he will assure it will never happen again. He will personally be your bodyguard and prevent anyone from your past who hurt you from reaching you again. You don't have to be religious any longer, he will respect your choice, encourage it even and if anyone dares to question your decision they will have to face the wrath of the general of the Cloud Knights.

He is mad at himself for not noticing the signs of your breakdowns sooner, and he tells you in the future you can come to him whenever you think it's getting bad again. He might even offer to help you use some kind of physical training as another outlet whenever you feel the urge to self harm creep up on you again, after all, he understands it's not as simple as just asking you to stop. 

If you share with him about you feeling self destructive and feeling as if you don't deserve good things, he will give you constant reassurances all the time about how much he adores you and how much you mean to him. Even if you sometimes become self sabotaging, Jing Yuan is prepared to fight for you until you give up and finally accept that you are good enough. And he is not a general who likes losing, mind you.

He would reassure you that you have not done anything bad and that you are not “dirty” or anything. Most of what religion brands as sinful is just normal human behavior, so he will slowly help you overcome your guilt and feel better !!

Overall, Jing Yuan would be extremely patient, calm and gentle with you. He understands healing is a long process, so good thing he has all the time in the universe, being long lived and all. He will help you every step in your journey and will always be there for you !

End note: Thank you so much for requesting! Also feel free to request heavy topics. I know a lot of writers feel uncomfortable by them but as a person who has had their fair share of mental health struggles I would always love to write comfort fics! It makes me incredibly happy if my fic helps someone through a episode, as even I have had fics like that for myself in the past!! 

[juneyjubilation]

First of all, hello!! I hope you have/ had a great day, I wanted to make a request about Dick Grayson, we all know he's just a ball of sunshine but what about we (As another vigilante who's close to him+ he has a crush on -you can keep the details short or as long as you want-) finding him at his lowest? But like... Really really lowest... In the point where he feels like a disappointment to his parents to bruce himself, to Alfred or basically to everyone who knows him, the point where he thinks he's letting everyone down... The point where he's about to cry and have a panic attack (inside out 2..) and we find him, (let's just say that reader knows him well enough to be able to say somethings are off with him..) try and do everything we can to comfort and console him because... My man really deserves true affection and reminder that he has amazing affect on people around him... (The trigger to his break down could be him, not being able to save a child as he tried to save 5 other people in danger etc. whatever you want, I hope I'm not making any mistakes on writing because English is not my native language and I'd literally sit down and cry if I didn't express myself successfully ;( also could you please make it AFAB?) Thank you so much for everything in advance..

Feel free to ingore this request, but if you won't do it please inform me I won't be hurt 🙏🏻💝

hi! thank you so much for the request :) i absolutely did not mind writing this, though i fear i did mistakenly add more trauma to the golden boy - so ummmm... my bad!

and your english was good at conveying your point! i hope i was able to translate this to paper well :)

also i listened to Birds of a Feather on repeat whilst writing this! enjoy!

details: no use of y/n/(reader), dick calls the reader 'Angel', she/her user, this could be seen as platonic, but he is evidently pining in his thoughts.

content warnings: mentions and brief description of child death, flashbacks to parental death, minor character death (of the unnamed child), panic attacks.

- thank you for reading!! continue to under cut to read -

The haunting memory of the child he had failed, the one he couldn't save, grips him in a vice-like chokehold. It's a branding iron seared into his very soul, a constant reminder of his inadequacy—a festering, gnawing wound that threatens to consume him whole. He clutches his throbbing temple, his mind replaying the horrifying moments when the child, caught in the crossfire, fell to their inevitable fate.

For a single moment the image of that little girl in her yellow sweater returned him to the memory he ran from most; the image of his parents and their once striking yellow and green costumes danced in red.

Contorted bones and brain matter tended to have that effect on him.

Each labored, panicked breath he exhales is a testament to the tumultuous turmoil within him. Sweat trickles down his temples, mingling with the darkness of his hair as tears threaten to spill down his cheeks, unchecked by the demons gnawing at his soul.

His body trembles, the sudden vulnerability an unfamiliar and unwelcome companion. His once steady hands now shake as he struggles to compose himself, to regain control of the emotional maelstrom that threatens to consume him.

The cool Gotham breeze offers no solace, the whispering wind carrying the echoes of the child's cries and the deafening silence that followed.

In a tortured whisper, Nightwing tries coaxing calm into his body. "Breathe... in... hold... out..." His words echo faintly in the wind, a desperate attempt to wrestle back control.

Each labored breath becomes a tiny beacon of light, guiding him through the storm of self-doubt and guilt. He imagines the air filling his lungs like a warm, golden light, chasing away the shadows of despair.

One hand reaches up, fingers brushing against the emblem that adorns his chest, a symbol of his past and his future, a reminder of the strength he has wielded time and time again.

The other hand forms a fist, his knuckles turning white, as he clings to the memory of the five children he saved, the lives he changed. His heartbeat slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, as the grounding exercise takes root.

The tenuous grip on his grounding fades like a fading signal, replaced by the raw, unadulterated pain of his failure. He collapses in on himself, sobbing, rage and despair mingling in his anguished cries.

In his mind's eye, the image of the little girl materializes once more, a beacon of hope snuffed out, the same way his own youth was extinguished. The memory of his mother, her laughter and love, dance just beyond his reach. The parallels between the two haunt him, a relentless tormentor.

Tears stream down his cheeks, the salty droplets stinging the wounds of his soul. His shoulders quake under the weight of the burden he bears, the crushing guilt of that lost life threatening to drown him.

In the midst of Nightwing's torment, a shadow falls over him, a gentle presence signaling the arrival of a familiar figure. A figure he has deemed his *Angel*.

She lands gracefully beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery. Yet, for him, she embodies strength, solace, and warmth. Her aura fills the space around him, tickles at his senses in a way that's instantly recognizable, even in the darkness of Gotham's smog.

A gentle hand brushes through his hair, her touch a caress, tender and caring. "There you are," her voice a soothing balm to his raw emotions. He feels her presence, the mere nearness offering a sliver of comfort to his broken spirit.

In the shadows, his solace crouches beside her friend, sensing the turmoil that wracks his body.

Nightwing's initial instinct kicks in, a mixture of surprise and panic as he realizes he's been discovered in his most vulnerable state. The superheroic facade he presents to the world is shattered, exposing the raw, bleeding core of his humanity.

The very thought of burdening her with his failures and shortcomings weighs heavily on him. He's always been the one to save, to lead, to console. The thought of being the one needing rescue is an eerie and unsettling prospect.

Nightwing opens his mouth to protest, to push her away, to defend his honor, but the words stick in his throat. He can't bear to witness the disappointment in her eyes, or the pity that would surely follow.

Instead, he utters the word that's reserved for her alone. "Angel..." The plea is a confession without words, an admission of the depth of his trust in her.

Instead of pulling away, she scoots closer, wrapping her arms around him, a shield against the unyielding darkness that threatens to swallow him whole. Her presence is a beacon of hope, offering a safe haven in the storm that refused to wane.

Angel shakes her head gently, her eyes filled with an understanding that transcends words. Her lips move in a soft, almost imperceptible whisper, weaving a tapestry of comfort through her words.

"Grief, it's a beast, twisting in your gut, aching in places you never thought possible. It's a reminder of the things you can't change, the memories that haunt, the life that slips through the cracks."

Her voice is a lullaby, a rhythmic pattern that guides him through the tempest of emotions. She speaks with the ruggedness of a street-hardened hero and the tenderness of a loving friend.

"But we don't drown in it. We don't let it define us. We let the tears fall, the chest heave, and then we find the strength buried beneath the pain to carry on."

Nightwing listens to her soft words, the wisdom in her voice like a balm to his raw emotions. His thoughts drift back to the time they first met, the war-torn streets of Gotham, a city on the brink of ruin.

He remembers the first time he saw her, the way she moved through the chaos with an almost ethereal grace. She was a beacon of hope in the midst of despair, her emerald eyes sparkling like jewels, piercing the darkness.

In that moment, he knew he would follow her, that she would be his shining star. And so, he called her Angel—not because she resembled the celestial beings but because she represented the light that guided him through life's shadows.

He would never share this with her, this intimate connection that bound them together, a secret that only he held tight to his chest. For in this moment, he realized that Angel's words weren't a fix-all, a panacea to mend all his wounds. They didn't erase the knot in his throat, the heaviness in his heart. But they did something equally profound; they eased the suffocating weight of isolation.

For the first time, he realized he didn't have to face this alone. That he had been surrounded by a network of support, of friends and allies who shared his purpose.

In her arms, he felt anchored, tethered to reality, to the world he fought so tirelessly to protect. A world that was no longer a shadowy, menacing abyss but a place of hope, of potential, of redemption.

And as his sobs subside, leaving behind a silent contemplation, he knows that there will be other battles, other moments of weakness, but he wouldn't face them alone.

In the company of Angel, the moniker 'Nightwing' did not feel like a suffocating mantle that weighed heavily upon Dick's shoulders. Instead, it became a symbol of the partnership they shared, a badge of honor that spoke volumes about their bond.

Angel, with her unwavering support, reminded Dick of the reasons he chose this path in the first place—a desire to protect, to heal, and to stand for justice. Her faith in him, her belief in his abilities, and her unwavering trust in their combined might, breathed new life into the persona he had donned.

Nightwing, the man and the symbol, no longer felt like a burden, but rather the manifestation of his resolve, a testament to his strength, and a beautifully complex reflection of his vulnerabilities. In the presence of Angel, he could be both a hero Gotham needed and the person he needed to be in order to heal from his past.

In the silence that follows, Dick finds himself looking into the eyes of the woman who had become an indispensable part of his life. A man of few words when it came to expressing his gratitude, he finds solace in the simplest of gestures.

He wraps his arm around her, pulling her close, his strong frame enveloping her as he basks in the comfort of her presence. His jaw clenches, the tension a testament to the weight of his emotions. Eventually, he finds the courage to express his gratitude.

"Thank you, Angel." The words are a whisper, sincere and heartfelt. He holds her tighter, as if to etch this moment in his memory, a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving city that they call home.

In that moment, he doesn't need grand speeches or declarations of love, but the simple act of being in her presence. Their bond, forged in the fires of conflict and the camaraderie of friendship, is a testament to the depth of their connection.

He knew he could depend on her, in the darkest hours and brightest victories. She was the calm in the eye of his storm, the beacon of hope that flickered in the shadows.

Together, they stood as guardians of the city, protectors of the innocent, and confidants to one another. Dick Grayson, the young circus performer, and the vigilante known as Nightwing, had found in Angel a companion for life, a partner in crimefighting, and a friend he cherished more than gold.

As they sat on the rooftop, the weight of the world momentarily lifted, Dick knew that he owed her more than he could ever repay. But the debt, he realized, was one he would gladly continue to work off, through every mission, every battle, and every victorious smile they shared. Because in her, he had found not just a comrade but a partner of the heart. And his gratitude, as always, was simple and true: Thank you, Angel.