#i did feel bad for half a second bc the other team started crying

[spawn-of-fucking-satan]

GUESS WHO JUST WON STATE FUCKING CHAMP FOR RUGBY

ME

MY TEAM FUCKING WON

[yourmidnightlover]

holding hands

never stop loving me part 2 :)

summary - after reader and spencer make it home safe and almost sound, spencer decides to show her just how much he loves her touch.

tw - smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (yea, ik i do this a lot), teasing?, fingering, oral (female receiving), soft dom!spencer, fluff

wc - 2,671

a/n - you could totally read this as a stand alone piece, just know that spencer is kinda in the doghouse rn bc he said mean things to reader abt her being all touchy and annoying (even tho she isn’t). happy reading 😌

masterlist

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spencer had said he was going to make it up to you.

did he know how yet? not really. would he figure out how? absolutely.

you had been rather distant after you had solved the case and on the plane ride back home. you still sat beside him, but you didn't make any move to touch him or lay your head on him as you normally would. maybe it was because you just didn't feel like it, but spencer knew better than to think that.

"do you want to order takeout tonight?" you turned towards him to ask the question.

"yea, of course we can," he agreed, his arm reaching around your body to pull you closer to him. he felt you stiffen under his touch. "are you alright?" it was his turn to look at you, you nodded up at him.

"i'm alright," you clarified, giving him a tight-lipped smile that wasn't very convincing. eventually, you settled into his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder and succumbing to the sleep you needed.

when you woke up, it was to spencer swatting away morgan's hand while shushing him.

"morgan, she needs her rest in order to heal properly!" he whisper-yelled while trying to move morgan's hand away but failing. "don't touch her, only i can!" he clarified, morgan threw his hands up in defense as he turned to sit back down.

"y'know you get more protective than i thought you would be," morgan shrugged with a chuckle.

"what's that mean?" spencer argued defensively.

"it means that princess there is well taken care of. you just don't seem like the possessive type of guy," he reiterated as he pulled out his headphones.

"i'm not being possessive," he defended himself. "i'm being a good boyfriend by not letting you wake her up just so you can ask her a ridiculous question," spencer looked down at you in your peaceful sleeping position.

you hadn't slept well in the hospital. spencer knew this because each time he went to sleep you were awake, and you would be awake when he woke back up. the night before you were in the hospital he heard you cry yourself to sleep and you woke up before him. so, in his mind, you needed as much rest as possible if you wanted to heal properly.

that, and he wanted to feel you cuddled against him as you slept for the first time in a week.

"i think it's more than that, genius," the bald man scoffed.

"what do you think it is?" spencer sassed.

"well, i think it has something to do with the fact that you and pretty girl there," he nodded towards you, "were in a fight and you missed her."

spencer sighed, "is it that obvious?" he used his free hand to move a piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering there for a second longer.

"look, kid, i may or may not have heard what happened thanks to a little someone. you should let her know how much she means to you, alright? she's probably feeling like you're doubting your relationship because of her, so make sure she knows that she's it for you," he advised his curly-headed friend.

"she's not 'it' for me, derek," spencer sighed once more. "she's my everything."

you stirred in your 'sleep' to alert them of your presence, slowly sitting up in an attempt to not hurt yourself.

"hey, princess," spencer whispered, moving that same annoying strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

"mmm... hi," you stretched your arms over spencer so you wouldn't hit him. "how long until we land?"

"about half an hour," he informed you, whispering as the other team members slept. "if you'd like to go back to sleep i'll wake you up before we land."

"i'm alright, thank you," you smiled.

you could be mad at him while being a nice person. you just didn't know if you were ready to get over what he had said to you.

——————————

you had gone straight home after landing, permittable by hotch who saw how tired the two of you were.

both of you were laying together on the couch, you slightly on top of spencer because of your still bruised rib that slightly hurt, he angled his head down and started kissing your neck softly. your breathing got heavier, your breaths being few and far between as your hands reached back to grasp spencer's curls.

"spence?" you asked, more like whispered. he continued his actions, the only thing that signified he actually heard you being a small hum against your skin. "i-i... can we...?" you trailed off, not sure how to ask for what you wanted.

"can we what, princess?" he asked his hands reaching around to the front of your body, lightly ghosting over your bare legs.

"you know what, spencer," you huffed in annoyance as you rolled your eyes. he squeezed your thigh firm enough to know he had done it, but gentle enough to know it wouldn't leave any marks that were too bad.

"and you know better than to roll your eyes at me," he whispered in your ear, nipping gently at your lobe. "now... tell me exactly what you want."

"i want whatever you'll give me," you turned your face towards him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes before adding, "please?" you pursed your bottom lip into a pouty position.

that was apparently the magic word because as soon as they had left your mouth, you could have sworn you heard spencer growl in your ear before continuing to kiss and nip at your neck, leaving his marks all over your body. you felt his erection twitch in his pants as you whimpered from the touch of his lips on you which spurred you to grind your ass against his hips. he grabbed your hips to still their movement before sitting up with you, slowly as to make sure he didn't hurt your ribs.

"can you walk to the room by yourself?" he asked in his normal, sweet, non-dominating spencer voice, to which you nodded your head yes as you began to walk where he had asked.

you knelt by the door naked in wait for him, hoping he'd give you something to take your mind off of your injury. when he walked in, he could've sworn he felt his heart grow with even more love for you, something he thought was already impossible.

"princess, why're you on the floor?" he questioned, kneeling down to get eye level with you.

"why isn't your dick in my mouth?" you countered, a smirk growing on your face.

"i was gonna be nice tonight since you're not well so i wouldn't push it, doll," he gave you a stern look that told you to watch it. "i still have some making up to do, i believe?" your smile returned even brighter than before as he helped you back to your feet and into the bed.

once you were comfortable, he was practically worshipping your body with each kiss and hum against your body.

"i can't imagine never touching you again, y/n," he made his way down to your chest, his lips wrapping around your nipple. he gently tugged on it with his teeth before releasing it and doing the same to the other one.

"these tits," he sucked a hickey onto one of them before moving to the other.

"this stomach," he kissed all over your torso, being extremely careful of your bruises as your hands around through his locks once more.

"love the way it feels when i lay on it," he made his way down to your thighs, loving the way you squirmed underneath his touch. he hovered right over the place you wanted most and gently bit down on your thigh, your hips bucking upward subtly from the shock.

"god, these thighs," he huffed as he squeezed them once more. "love the feeling of them wrapping around my head when i'm between them."

"then how about you get between them, then?" you sighed sarcastically, your neediness getting the better of you

"so very impatient," he mocked before pressing one final kiss to your inner thigh. "but what the princess wants, the princess gets. for now, at least."

he licked a thick stripe up your slit, tantalizingly slow just to hear the whimpers that left your lips from the feeling. your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tight as he continued to lap at your pussy.

"so good, sir," you moaned out. "please don't stop. don't stop!" you cried as his lips wrapped around your clit. "uh- right there! yes!" you shouted as your thighs strained to remain still. "yes! oh fuck, yes!" you yelled as the high hit you like a train, his hands grasped your hips so they would stay in place, working you through that euphoria. "oh, thank you, thank you so much..." you trailed off, running your hands through his hair once more as he began making his way up your body, peppering kisses all around you.

"mmm, you did so good for me, y/n," he praised before connecting your lips to his in a passionate kiss. you whimpered into his mouth greedily. "someone's eager, yea princess?" he chuckled. you nodded your head as you bit your lip. "what do you want? i need you to tell me," he whispered, his hands trailing down your body once more and connecting with your sensitive center.

"pl-please," you whined, your hips bucking into his hand. "you, i want you," you informed him as if he hadn't already known.

"you have me now," he chuckled.

"no, no. i want you inside me," you pouted, your hands pulling the hair at the nape of his neck for punctuation.

"you want me inside you?" he asked as he pushed his fingers inside you, your mouth widening to form an 'o' from the surprise. "there, i'm inside you," he teased once more as he began thrusting his fingers in and out. you held onto his arm, a way to ground yourself so you could stil talk without sounding like a baby.

"your- i want your... shit... your dick. i want your dick inside me, please," you practically begged as his fingers began curling inside of you in that perfect spot.

"ohh, is that what you meant?" he asked like a smart ass, you couldn't find it in you to be a brat about it, so you just nodded your head as he worked you through your second orgasm of the night.

"yes! ohhh, fuck, yes," your hips rutted up against his hand from the pleasure. "please, please," you asked once more. "can you please just fuck me now? i want your cock..."

"aww, of course, princess," he said with a bright smile.

he got up from the bed only to remove himself of his remaining clothes before adjusting himself, lining his dick up with your center. he ran his dick through your already wet folds before slowly pushing himself inside of you, knowing you'd still need to adjust to his length.

"so beautiful, y/n," he grasped your hands, interlacing your fingers with his as he began to push himself inside you once more.

it might've been the feeling of being in submission for him, but you felt overcome with emotions. the intimacy of the moment you were sharing was more than just the sex you normally had. it was beautiful. the way he looked at you with awe each time he thrust himself back inside of you. the way you held onto his hands tightly in order to tell yourself that it was real... that he was real.

"god, i love you," he groaned as he kissed you fervently, his pace still set relatively slower than usual. "so much, y/n."

"i love- i love you," you moaned, removing your hands from his only so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to yours. "spence, spence i'm so close," you whined in his ear, which only egged him on.

"i've got you, y/n," he pulled back to look at you as you came on his dick. "let go. let go for me," he moved a piece of hair from your face once more as your mouth flew open in pure bliss. your nails dug into his back as your pussy clenched around him, bringing upon his own orgasm, spurts of his releasing covering your walls. "fuck, y/n," he groaned, burying his neck into your shoulder before you pulled it out, wanting to observe him in such a vulnerable state.

"i love you," you whispered, only him able to hear it.

"i love you," he whispered back, pressing your foreheads together as he caught his breath.

when he managed to pull out, he found a new pair of underwear and pulled them on before going to grab you a fresh pair of his clothes to wear to sleep - you liked that they smelled like him, it helped you sleep better.

"where're you goin'?" you whined from the bed, trying to sit up abruptly but only finding a shooting pain going through your abdomen.

"shhh," he whispered, rushing to the side of the bed to guide you back to laying down. his hands found your shoulders and right before he was going to release them, you grabbed his hands.

"are you leaving me again?" you asked pitifully, tears welling in your eyes.

"no, sweetheart," he furrowed his brows. "i'm never going to leave you," he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"i know... i know i can be annoying like you said and i'm working on it," you looked down at your hands, which were now in your lap. "just please be patient?"

"you don't need to work on anything," he wiped the tears from your cheeks. "i never should have said those things to you, whether or not i was upset. i'm so sorry i made you doubt yourself," you found yourself wiping his own tears away. "now let's get you into the bathroom, okay?" you nodded as he helped you get up, guiding you to the bathroom to relieve yourself.

while you were doing your business, he went and got you that change of clothes you needed and brought them to you once you were done. he used a damp, warm washcloth to clean up between your legs and made sure to wash your face for you. he helped you get changed, letting you use him as a balancing bar, and then directed you back to the bed. he rest his head on his pillow, looking over and seeing you still on your side of the bed, not curling up into him as you usually do.

"y/n," he whispered. "i know you're probably still mad at me, which is totally fine because just because we had sex doesn't mean i'm done making it up to you. but... it's kind of harder to sleep without you cuddling with me than i thought. so if you're alright with it can we just..." he trailed off.

"spence?" you asked with a giggle.

"hmm?"

"i'm not supposed to sleep on my stomach or side," you held back a laugh, knowing it would hurt. "i mean, i'm glad we're on the same page about you still making it up to me, but it's kinda doctor's orders that i don't sleep like that."

"oh..." he bit his lip, trying to keep himself from feeling too embarrassed. "right. can we hold hands while we sleep then?" he asked, acting as if he had found a loophole.

"now who's touchy?" you joked, hurting your stomach from the laughter but finding that it was worth it.

"ha-ha," he mocked. "very funny, y/n," he groaned.

"yes, darling," you joked once more. "of course we can hold hands while we sleep."

and you did.

and for the first night in a week, you slept peacefully.

taglist:

@averyhotchner​

@greenprisca​

@muffin-cup​

@emilyprentisslittlewhore

[brittledame]

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori, Yamagata Hayato, Reon Oohira, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjirou, Kawanishi Taichi, Goshiki Tsutomu

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags: SFW, gender neutral reader, first date nerves, fluff, ages not specified

Notes: I did this instead of working on the other projects bc I wanted some fluff and here it is!

Ushijima:

On a visit with his grandmother is when he’s told about a local pottery masterclass happening the following weekend, piquing his interest

After some research, he comes to learnt that pottery is the perfect relaxing hobby with the added benefit of fine tuning his dexterity

It didn’t take much else to convince him to go

It was only after talking to a friend that he realises he should probably invite someone to tag along

After his grandmother politely declines, he follows her coy suggestion of inviting someone he likes

He invites you seemingly out of the blue

You’ve known him for a great deal of time and done some activities with him that could be construed as “romantic” and only started dating when Ushijima stated your relationship status to his team nearly a month ago

The look on your face when you found out at the exact moment as his team was priceless

After that, Ushijima left your relationship status on no uncertain terms and practically broadcasted it in his own unique way

This pottery class serves as another way to spend more time with you

After a few minutes of the pottery teacher painstakingly going through the motions to make a basic pot, a whirring noise followed by wet splattering steals your attention away from the clump of clay that is slowly taking form.

You glance over to find Ushijima looking at you, nonplussed at the mess of what was his pot now decorating his mock and forearms, his face is not left unmarked with the few splotches painting his cheek

You gape at him as he blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks down at the poor clump of clay and murmurs a small, “Oh.”

You didn’t mean to laugh, not really, but the utter surprise in his tone topped you over

After a mild scolding from the teacher and a new clump of clay, the two of you were good to go once again

The both of you took longer than most of the class, you with fussing about the tiny bumps you just couldn’t seem to smooth out and Ushijima with his second try

The class seemed to have unlocked his innate mastery of the ancient craft, as the pot looked near store-quality, you note with an ounce of envy

The group takes a break over some snacks and drinks as the pots are loaded into the kiln

Ushijima meticulously picks through the various glazes they had to offer, seeking your assistance after you picked your own out

You suggest the purple as homage to Shiratorizawa, where you two met, and the dark-rich brown, claiming it reminded you of his eyes

He considers you for a moment, a long enough pause for you to think over your words and begin to regret them before he nods decidedly and proudly presents the glazes he picked to the lady

With the class wrapping up, the lady running the class pops up as you two inspect your creations.

“Do you mind if I take a picture to post on our social media?”

Ushijima shakes his head as you answer, “We don’t mind.”

She flashes a wide smile and aims her phone in your direction. “Great! Say ‘pottery’.”

On cue you plaster on smile and brandish the clay creation as the camera clicks.

The lady, who is somehow even more dirtied than Ushijima, inspects the picture.

“You two are so cute together!” She fawns over the two of you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your date together.”

She disappears before either of you can correct her.

You blurt out, "Is this a date?"

A pause. Then a hum, "I suppose it is."

A shared smile, you leave the studio with linked hands.

When you get home, you prowl through the studio’s page and find the picture and break out into gut-clutching laughter at the almost-pained looking smile Ushijima makes, tiny pot perched in his large hands adding a comedic effect.

After you recover, you end up saving it and making it your screen saver.

Tendou:

For all his casual confidence, you’re the one to ask him out and he’s the one to officially declare it the “big” first date

The plan was to go manga/book shopping and eat at the in-store cafe

It sounded like a pretty cut-and-dry standard date but with Tendou anything can turn into an adventure

Ecstatic is an understatement on how excited Tendou was for the weekend

He was nearly berated a dozen times for not paying enough attention to what he was doing and almost caused a small fire at one stage

You didn’t fare much better, either

The pair of you got a great deal of laughter from relaying it to one another in the late night hours before meeting up

Although underneath it all lurked the residual anxiety he tried to fight away, so he reminds you during the call, just to check that you didn’t regret inviting him out

As much as he despised the thought, the dark voice whispering at him that you would stand him up were quickly silenced when you show up with a bright smile and his name on your lips

Tendou reckons it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard, right after your laughter that he coaxes out with the little melodies he sings to himself as the two of you make way to the popular bookstore

After arriving, you wonder apart to check out separate sections and end up meeting at again the in-store café with books in hand

Over the chocolate cake slice Tendou brought to share, you take turns to gush over the selected choices spread across the tabletop

“I mean it isn’t that over done.” You argue, popping another forkful of the overly-sweet cake into your mouth.

Tendou throws his hands into the air. “Are you serious? Hero meets bad guy, then they fight a whole bunch, bad guy kills a bunch of people and the hero never kills the guy because he ‘doesn’t want to stoop to their level’,” You don’t mask your laughter at the overexaggerated deep voice Tendou imitates. “It’s not fair to the people that the bad guy goes to hurt later on.”

“Oh, I entirely agree with you there.” You take a moment to wonder how Tendou has eaten nearly half the thing to himself already, you’ve barely been seated for longer than a few minutes. “When done wrong, the whole ‘taking the high ground’ troupe is really tacky.”

Tendou blinks at you like he didn’t expect you to respond. You raise a brow at him as a toothy grin spreads over his face, a slight pink painted across his pale cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like talking to someone that knows their stuff, is all. Don’t get me wrong, miracle boy is great company, but I can only try to convince him to read more than the ads they run for so long before I go insane.” He chuckles under his breath, words heartfelt enough that a matching heat spreads across your cheeks.

“I enjoy this too.”

A wide grin overtakes his face at your admittance.

“Well then, let’s not stop!” He offers, stretching his hand towards yours. You clasp it, feeling delicate against his larger one. “I still have to tell you about the whole ‘boy is given power he doesn’t know how to control and needs to find a grumpy mentor’ troupe next!”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on that one.”

Tendou clicks his tongue and wags his finger at you. “It’s not necessarily about my thoughts, it’s the conspiracy I think the troupe ties into.”

The seriousness in his tone made you pause, looks like you were in for a long one.

Amongst him linking the heroes journey and the innate desire for power over others, you marvel at the way his whole body comes alive when talking about something he loves.

It’s much later on, when he’s introducing you to his friends at a reunion, that you notice the bubbly and animated way he presents you to his friends, love evident in each and every word.

Semi:

Now you would think he’d be the calm and collected one after knowing each other for half a decade and dating for a month

Nope.

He's the type to plan to ask you at the perfect time, and will be in a pissy mood if he misses the "perfect" opportunity to ask

When he does finally pose the question, you’ll say yes and he’s ecstatic

Though, he will play it cool and be like, "Ok I'll text you the details later." And flash you the biggest smile that has you melting inside just a little

When he's trying to sleep that night it finally hits him

Oh shit he has to plan a date with the girl he’s been hopelessly pining for

After one text from you confirming you don’t mind where he picks, he’s both relieved and more stressed because now he has to analyse every little thing he knows about you and eventually starts doubting himself

In the end, he decides to play it safe and go with the popular, family owned cafe that plays live music Saturday afternoons

It was perfect, the music act would be quiet enough to still talk if you two wanted or serve as a mediator to break any awkward silence should it pop up

It is honestly the perfect date, in his mind

Comes the day and he swings around your place after agreeing to walk to the café together

The walk is characterised with the brisk autumn wind and catching each other up on what’s been going on during the week

The conversation doesn’t stop from there – something Semi could cry happily over

After ordering and grabbing a seat close to a stage set-up to the side, you note how bright and talkative Semi is and vow to yourself to see this more often

As he takes a sip in the middle of explaining the difference pick positions affects plucking sounds, you comment on his excitement

Even with the flush on his cheeks, he holds a suave facade and merely says that it’s hard to unwind when his friends can be so chaotic when they get together

From there he starts opening up and imparting little facts about himself that you commit to memory

You come to learn that his favourite colour was corn-silk yellow before he went to Shiratorizawa, now it’s royal purple. He loves tekka maki and boasts his mum’s hand-made ones to be the best in the world and offers to share it with you next time she makes them

All of these things slot into what you know about Semi, filed alongside the nuance’s you’ve noticed yourself.

When he’s unsure or embarrassed, he tousles his hair. And when he talks about something he’s passionate with, his hands start gesturing all about the place

You could’ve spent the whole afternoon like that, in the intimately-lit café, hidden amongst the dull chatter of the surrounding patrons, just listening to Semi’s soothing timbre

But life had other plans

The lights on the stage brighten as someone wearing comfortable clothes strolls on and perches up on the stool set-up in front of a lone microphone. She didn’t give off any signs of discomfort at being stared at as she sets up her guitar, giving a few testing strums before introducing herself and launching into her music.

It was only then that conversation broke and ushered in a lilting voice floating on gentle notes.

“They’re amazing.” You breath, eyes not leaving the stage until the musician dismounts from the stage.

“That’s what I want to do one day.”

You turn to him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The corner of Semi’s lips quirk up a bit, a secret shared unto himself.

“Why?”

Genuine curiosity spurs you to ask, to know. While you could picture Semi perched on the same stool with a guitar all too easy, you never really thought Semi would pursue a career in the industry.

Semi finally turns to you, a fire in his eyes that was normally caused by volleyball and a good challenge. “I want to make people happy and sad - all the emotions really. I want someone to look at me like you did to that girl.”

Tilting your head you say, “Looking at her like what?”

Semi audible swallows. “Like someone that loves the music I make.”

Reaching over the table, you run your thumb over the backs of his knuckles, a comforting gesture. “Semi, I already love talking to you and hanging out, so why wouldn’t I like the music you write?”

The resultant blush on Semi’s face was answer enough to that, even though he tries to hide it behind his cup.

After that, meeting up at the café ends up becoming a weekly occurrence, an oasis that you both look forward to in the midst of life’s chaos.

Yamagata:

Yamagata actually is the smoothest out of them all

After a two weeks of dating, he bounces up to you after a particularly hard day and offers to take you somewhere fun the next day

Your definition of ‘fun’ varies from his, as you soon find out

Where Yamagata believes the best way to get to know someone and have fun simultaneously is putting them through challenges, whereas you believe sitting down and chatting to be the most optimal method

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, the paint ball range is closed

Amusement park it is

He leaves it as a surprise and doesn’t tell you until you question the sign of the park he visited frequently as a kid

Overall, you have an absolute ball with him, never a dull moment

Especially after the ferris wheel when Hayato goes to reach for his phone to check the time and finds it missing

The only reason he had it out in the plastic swinging booth was to take a sneaky picture of you looking carefree and relaxed as you gazed down at the park – not that he admitted to that when you asked just how it escaped his pocket

Obviously, it was a very slippery phone since this was the third time this week alone he lost it

After tracking it down with the help of the kind but tired ride operator, the two of you were on your merry way to the next ride, but not without a few light-hearted digs at Yamagata’s forgetfulness

You get to learn a lot about each other personally while waiting in line and over lunch after recovering

At the end of the day, your cheeks ache from much smiled

“I don’t remember it being that crazy as a kid.” Yamagata says, looking pale and breathing shallowly, as if to keep himself from being sick.

You couldn’t blame him, the rollercoaster he convinced you to go on under the guise of “This was my favourite one as a kid! You wouldn’t deny a man from reliving his childhood, would you?”

And like a fool you caved under the pout like a badly cooked soufflé. Now you wished you put up a bit of a fight against going on it. The screams of the riders before you were not exaggerated in the slightest.

“I don’t know how they allow kids on that.” Is all you supply, feeling a little green as well.

Yamagata directs you to the nearest bench and you follow his lead and slump into the seat.

“I don’t know how I forgot how much that thing threw me around. I must’ve just about fell off as a tiny kid. Remind me to thank my dad for coming on with me.”

You try not to laugh at the image of a tiny Yamagata ecstatically cheering as the ride swings around corners at full speed as his dad frantically tries to keep his clueless son from getting tossed out of the cart.

“Your dad is a brave man to go on that thing wilfully.”

Yamagata grimaces. “Brave is a nice way of putting it. I’d call it being insane to put up with me wanting to ride it eight times over.”

This time you do laugh.

“It must be hard saying no to your own kid, though, so cut him some slack.” You joke, knocking your elbow against his side.

He playfully pushes you away, widely grinning once again. The heat from the sun blaring ahead suddenly floods into your cheeks. The sensation of your heart feeling too large for your ribcage seizes you.

And the feeling doesn’t leave, it sticks with you as he laughs, as he drops his ice cream and pouts like a child. It intensifies as a dreamy look enters his eyes as he recalls a fond memory associated with a ride.

You hope that one day that he makes the same expression when he recalls this day spent with you.

Reon:

For some reason, Reon seems like the kind of guy to be inherently talented with gardening

He’s the resident green thumb alongside Ushijima, people pass their dying plants into Reon’s hands for magical resurrection

So it was a no-brainer for him to take you to the local botanical gardens

Rife with both native and exotic flora, there were many scenic walks available, thus was the perfect place for a first date to Reon

Reon meets you at the gates with a soft greeting and an outstretched hand – you two walk through the park with your hand intertwined like that for the rest of the day

Throughout the walk, he points out flowers and gives you their common name and their meanings, along with the meanings he gave them as a kid

It was entirely too cute for your poor heart

“And those are yellow carnation.” He points to a patch of bright yellow flowers with soft-looking ruffled petals. “They represent dislike and disappointment towards the person you give them to, but as a kid I thought they meant that she was my sunshine because of the colour. My mum got quite the kick out of it when I gave them to her for her birthday.”

You burst into laughter, unable to smother it even with Reon’s apparent embarrassment at the event

If your allergies start to play up too badly, Reon will take you to his favourite part, a densely packed section of the gardens filled with trees, concealing a secluded tiny red bridge stretched across a large koi pond with the largest and most colourful koi you’ve seen

Everything within you wanted to stretch this moment out, you could easily live in this moment forever. The buzzing of cicadas in the distance, the grass blades tickling the palms of your hands from where you sat, the soothing rumble of Reon’s voice – this is your personal slice Elysian peace

You did not want to give this up

It’s there that he finally unlinks your hands and brings out the packed lunch he made.

“You made all this?” You gape, taking in the diverse range of food he brought out of his bag.

From seared fish placed neatly atop seasoned rice, to perfectly rounded onigiri. In the next box he opens sat seasoned chicken and beef slices that made your mouth water. Not to mention the salad of rich greens, reds, and yellows that called your name.

Reon chuckles at your awe. “Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to eat something home-made while out here, but if you wan to grab something else-“

You cut him off immediately. “Definitely not! This looks and smells amazing. It would be a crime not to eat it.”

The corners of Reon’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did try not to burn it, so I hope it tastes nice.”

“If it tastes even half as good as it smells, you’ll have to fight me to stop eating.” You reply, accepting the plate he holds out and give thanks as he starts loading your plate.

“I’d never stop you from eating,” he clicks his tongue in false sternness, to which you grin at. “If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you until your happy.”

“I’m happy right now, but I definitely still want the food.” You cheekily fire back.

Reon shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well then, eat to your heart’s content.”

Taking a bite, you startle Reon with your enthusiastic reaction.

“This tastes better than I imagined.” You gush after swallowing, immediately scooping up another forkful and eating it.

Reon brushes off your compliment in favour for leaning forward and brushing some crumbs off your face. The proximity as your breath stalling in your throat as he lingers for a heartbeat longer, then withdraws.

“I hope we can do this more often. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He quietly admits, the mood taking an intimate turn even with the shouts of kids playing in the distance.

“Me too. I don’t want this date to end.”

Shirabu:

This man prides himself on being observant and not oblivious like how his friends are

And yet, contrary to this, it takes him several trips to realise that he’s been on what would count as a date with you

You'll talk about needing a new jumper for winter and Shirabu will ask to tag along. You wanted to watch a movie? Shirabu is coming too. Like having someone besides you while studying? Shirabu was your go-to study buddy, whether in silence or as a conversation partner when your brain was overloaded

Out of the blue, he asks with no certain amount of panic, "Were those trips I went on with you dates?"

"I never really gave it much thought…” You match Shirabu’s expression as you consider his question. "I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume that they were, and you never brought it up, so I left it be."

"Let me have a re-do." Determination flares in his usually guarded eyes and you couldn't refute.

“Gladly.”

Shirabu glances away from your face, unable to bear looking at the fond expression you wore for too long without his heart suffering. “I want to take you somewhere nice.”

“Everywhere I go with you is nice, Shirabu. It’s less about the place and more about the person.” You rebuke.

Shirabu looks away before you catch the full extent of his blush at your words. “No, I mean I want to take you somewhere that can become special for the both of us.”

You catch his hand in yours, tugging it for him to turn back towards you. Gone was the characteristic impassive façade, now replaced with a tenderness that makes you near melt.

Your first official date with him is a picnic in a park on top a hill to watch the sunset

Something he thinks is extremely cheesy and overdone but the look of excitement on your face immediately silenced his rebuttals

There was no way in hell that he was going to be the reason for your disappointment if he can help it

As such, he went all out

Hiring the gazebo and ordering food to be delivered from a restaurant he knows that you’ve wanted to try out for the longest time

Not that he actually tells you, but it wasn’t hard to deduce his excitement when he waits for you at the gazebo with a small smile, dressed nicely in pressed slacks and a dress shirt with a bundle of flowers

Upon the wide-eyed stare he receives from you, he spends the first minutes of the date describing what the florist thought best for him

A bunch of camellias ranging from a deep and vivid red to the first blush of love pink to the innocence of white gathered in a golden ribbon. He doesn’t exactly tell you their meanings other than a short, “Flowers are flowers, all I want them to show is that I love you.”

What he didn’t know was that the florist had the foresight to hide a card detailing the meaning of each flower amongst the paper holding them

White camellias meaning “You’re adorable” to red camellias meaning “You’re a flame in my heart” (something you blush at in the security of your own home) and the pink one representing longing

As the meal arrives and the two of you eat, the conversation drifts from current events to bits and pieces of everything and anything

The highlight of conversation was Kenjirou’s answer to the question “What do you think you’ll see first: a ghost or an alien?”

Apparently Kenjirou was secretly a space-lover

From the lecture he launched into about the statistics of it all and you come away from that conversation with more knowledge of possibility of E.T's versus spectres than you would’ve thought

The afternoon starts fading into dusk quicker than you realised, too wrapped up trading short anecdotes of your respective families

Shirabu only realises the fading light once the fairy lights decorating the space become brighter, and it is only then that Shirabu like a gentleman, brings out a blanket and escorts you to the grassy knoll besides the gazebo

Laying out the blanket, you notice it’s the perfect position to watch the sun set and you can’t help but give him a quick hug in gratitude before you sit down and make yourself comfortable

It floored you how much effort and consideration he put into this one afternoon amongst all his classes and assignments – it made you feel incredibly warm against the cool night air creeping in

As you shift to get comfortable, your hand lands on top of his. You’re just about to whisk it away, but he shoots you a soft smile and twists his hand in your grasp and gives it a squeeze

Your hands stayed intertwined as the blues faded into pinks and oranges, then into purples and the deep satiny blue of the night sky

The sunny photos with matching smiles from that afternoon soon decorate your wall

Kawanishi:

Unlike the others, Taichi really doesn’t care about being seen as “basic” for taking you out to watch a movie and grab dinner afterwards

He asked you out so casually, you agreed without it even hitting you that it was a date until he grinned at you and cheekily replied, “Great, it’s a date then.”

The movie in question was one you’ve been waiting forward for its release and Taichi was interested in it as well, so really it was an excuse for the both of you to watch the movie together instead of alone.

It went great, asides from the old couple staring the two of you in line, not so quietly reminiscing their first date

Embarrassment aside, Taichi was sweet throughout the entirety of it

Arguing to pay until reluctantly splitting the bill when you argued that it wasn’t fair

Waiting outside for it to start, Taichi and yourself bide the time by guessing what the other movies were about by their posters and making each other laugh

Once the movie starts, the chatter between you two dies down, yet the casual intimacy doesn’t fade in the slightest

Sharing an arm rest, the both of you exchange glances at one another throughout the movie, and bump elbows when something interesting or funny happens

It was a far-cry from the intimacy of the other’s dates, but it was perfect for the two of you

By now, the two of you have been friends much longer than you have been dating

Neither of you wanted to rush things, happy to take it as it comes and retain that familiarity from years of friendship stay untainted from the innate awkwardness of new love

Coming out of the theatre, Taichi is the most talkative you’ve seen him yet as he offers his opinion on the film

You avidly listen without a word of complaint

It was nice to hear what went through Taichi’s mind when he always kept his emotions close to his heart, you felt damn-near jubilant over him coming out of his shell – even after all the years of friendship

He offers to grab dinner and after a mild debate over which place is better, you end up flipping a coin and grabbing some fast food and eating it at a near-by park

Eating the meal in relative silence, it was only broken to point out the ducks and giving them names. It was laid-back and you were enjoying yourself, yet Taichi remained stiff by your side.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly the most romantic date.” Taichi rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.

You quirk a brow at him. “How isn’t this a romantic date?”

Taichi finally looks at you, although in confusion. “Because I should’ve taken you to a nice, fancy restaurant for our first date.”

“I work on the belief that anywhere is romantic if you make it so. It depends on the company.” You shrug.

Taichi’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Oh? So you wouldn’t mind having our next one at a cemetery?”

You dig an elbow into his side and roll your eyes at the performance he puts on.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass.”

Taichi stops the pouting and slumps into the seat. Hating the sombre mood he’s in, you curl your arm through his and tuck into his side.

“Besides, you can always make it up to me in the future. I want the place to be so expensive that the proportions are baby-sized.”

Taichi’s rich laugh rumbles through you. It was a losing battle against the rapid thrum of your heart and the thoughts of warmth that consume you with his proximity.

You also didn’t try to fight the urge to cuddle further into his side, something he gladly accepted as he wraps his arm even tighter around you.

“I promise.” He sighs, a happy noise as he rests his head against yours, two bodies becoming one whole on that one spring afternoon.

Goshiki:

Not everything in life is a competition, yet Goshiki couldn’t thrive without it

Besides, if he thought too long and hard about it (which he did) an arcade date was the best option

It presented the perfect chance to show off his skills and impress you

When he finally works up the courage to ask you, it had been a while since you’ve been, so you were more than happy to accept

Goshiki deflated with relief because a back-up option didn’t exist

Even after dating for over a month by this point, this would be the first official date he’s taken you out on

After worrying that it was too childish or not at all romantic for a first date, you spent the better half of the afternoon before it convincing him otherwise

At the arcade, Goshiki takes your hand and guides you around the place, pointing out games he bested as a teenager before finally settling on war-cross-zombie two player shooting game

With the growing win streak, the two of you continue playing the game until Goshiki accidentally gets his player killed

Pouting, he suggests a different game to soothe his bruised ego

The pout disappears as he finds a different game he’s decent at, tickets flying out as the points rack up

He glows as you praise his skill

It was too easy to bait him into playing hoop games, which he surprisingly sucked at

You discovered him to be especially gifted at reflex games, where the both of you won the most tickets

With each claw game he stubbornly refuses to “eat his hard-earned money”, he proudly passes off each plushie to you

Goshiki wins whatever prize your eyes linger over, no matter how frustrated it makes him

With each one, you promise to keep and inwardly muse that you’ll have to install a new shelf for them

A few hours deep, you had managed to win him an eagle. It’s the only prize you had won big enough to portray the amount of affection you held towards the bowl-cut male.

It was a bit mishappen and looked more fit to be the mascot for a horror game than a children’s show, however you still offered it to him.

His eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“I mean, I can get you something better if you give me a few minutes…” You frown at the plushie as Goshiki holds it up. It’s even uglier in the light. Why the hell would they have this as a prize?

You reach out to grab it from him and Goshiki snatches it away from your grasp, pressing it into his chest and curling around it protectively. “No!”

You stand there, stunned, as Goshiki flushes at the looks he got from the shout and starts stumbling over his words.

“I mean, it’s fine and not creepy at all – No, I mean it’s cute,” he unconvincingly amends at your wince. “It’s something that you worked hard to get. I’ll treasure it forever, I swear.”

The conviction in his voice was enough to ease your concern.

“I could get you a better one, though. One that’s less creepy.” You offer, gesturing towards the wide array of claw machines boasting figurines and cuter plushies.

“No thank you. I like this one.” Goshiki is stubborn and you should’ve expected that.

You sigh, lips unsurely pulling upwards. “If you’re sure?”

Goshiki gives a sharp nod, and you know that that’s the end of that. He would not budge.

Yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be exasperated at the awe-filled look he gives the plushie as you two leave the arcade, holding it like it was made of expensive finery instead of cheap thread and fabric.

Months later you got to see the monstrosity again, tucked up on the shelf above his bed, proudly sitting between medals he’s won through the years.

[aubreyprc]

all through the night

‘all through the night

i’ll be awake

and i’ll be with you’

summary - hotch is in a building hit by a dirty bomb and gets radiation poisoning. (established hotchniss - season 4 anthrax episode re write but i just?? make it worse. (for @ssa-m-187 bc ? she badgered me about this for ??? eight days straight✋🏻 also she is 21 now everyone say happy birthday)

ao3

The word bomb echo's through the building and there’s three seconds before it goes off. Three seconds in which Hotch grabs Emily, pushing the both of them behind a wall, holding her to his chest as he does his best to cover her from the impending blast, only able to watch the other members of his team scatter behind other forms of what they hope will be shields, in the corner of his eye he can see Morgan grab Reid, pull the younger man into his chest in a similar way as he is shielding Emily, head pressed into his shoulders, hand on the back of his head and in another situation he would probably question it, but he hears the click of something in the distance and holds Emily tighter, pressing her face further into his neck as they grip onto each other, her arms resting around his waist.

Closing his eyes, he feels the building shake around them, the sound of bricks falling on the other side of them sounding louder as it echos into their ears. The ringing sound that follows is unpleasant, but not unwelcome, because it’s a sound that they’re okay. That they made it.

Right?

“Are you okay?” he asks as the ringing in their ears almost knocks them to the floor. He cups her cheeks, forcing her to look at him as her legs give out underneath her, the unbalance of her hearing knocking her sense of gravity off course and he follows her to the floor, terror rising in his chest as she stares at him, squinting her eyes as pain rushes through her head, coughing slightly as dust hits her chest and lungs.

“Emily,” he says as best he can, his own voice sounding like an echo in his own ears. “sweetheart, can you hear me?” he asks her, complete horror coming down on him as he realises that she could have hearing damage, could have —

“What happened?” she asks, reaching out to grab him as they both rush to their feet, the shouts of the team and other people in the building registering at a louder frequency as the ringing silences.

“A bomb.” he tells her, “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m— I’m okay.” she nods, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together as they stand and he smiles, running his thumb across her cheek before Morgan’s voice is hitting their ears.

“We have to get our of here.” he tells the, coming up to the side of them and reaching out to grab Emily’s arm, rushing the two of them from the building. Hotch squeezes Emily’s hand when she turns to face him, smiling softly at her as an indication that they’re okay and she smiles back.

As soon as they’re outside they all take large breaths, Emily’s hand sliding from his as she coughs, the fresh air forcing her lungs to recoil. He runs a hand down her back before walking towards the bomb squad, a million questions on his mind and he’s half way there when a scream hits everyone’s ears and renders them frozen, before they all turn back to the building.

“What was that?” Emily asks as Hotch makes his way back to her, everyone’s eyes on the building. “Who else was in there?”

“Did we ever find out if this was where he was hiding the girl?” Morgan asks, staring back to the team. “We barley had time to even look around before the bomb was activated. She could have been in there.”

“You think that scream was her?” Emily asks, rubbing a hand over her sore chest.

“I think it’s a possibility.” he tells her and she sighs.

“I’ll go back in.” Aaron says and all eyes snap to him.

“What?” Emily asks, “Are you insane?”

“The chance of another bomb going off now is unlikely—”

“But not impossible.” she argues back, “you’re not risking your life for a— a chance that someone is in there.”

“I don’t have a choice.” he tells her, “we all heard that scream, if we do nothing and it turns out she was in there and we could have saved her… would you ever be able to forgive yourself?” he asks the team, each member staying silent.

“You—” Emily tries to argue back, before turning her head to the team, staring at them until they catch on, and slowly walk out of ear shot. “You’re not going in there.”

“I have to—”

“No.” she tells him, “Have someone else to in. Someone from bomb squad. Someone—”

“You know I have to.” he says and she stops talking, looking to the floor as she crosses her arms over herself, looking up slightly when he places a finger under her chin. “I’ll be okay.”

“You can’t die.” she tells him, and he smiles while he nods.

“I won’t.” he assures her, “would it make you feel better if I promised?” he jokes and she rolls her eyes, a smirk growing on her face.

“Do you? Promise?” she questions as she looks at him and he stares back.

“I promise.” he whispers, and she nods, watching with complete terror as he follows a member of bomb squad back into the building.

“He’s going to be fine.” Morgan says, throwing an arm over her shoulder and kissing her temple. “He’s going to be fine.” he repeats, unsure of who he’s trying to convince as Hotch disappears out of eyesight.

She’s being seen by a medic, rolling her eyes at Morgan as he forces the oxygen mask back on her face while wearing his own, muttering something about how if Hotch was here he’d duck tape it to her face when there’s a shout from across the path, men in hazmat suits running towards the building and she swears in that moment she feels her heart stop.

“What—” she mumbles, standing and watching the suited men rush into the building, her heart now hammering against her chest as terror settles into her veins and she’s rushing over to the bomb squad before she even registers that she needs to move.

“What’s going on?” she asks them, her voice laced with fear and worry, her eyes burning into theirs.

“It was a dirty bomb.” he tells her regretfully, knowing full well who went back in, knowing full well who he was to her.

“A dirty—” she inhales, pressing a hand to her stomach as she tries to catch her breath, her heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of her chest.

“You all need to get tested for radiation poisoning but… we’re hopeful that you all got out quick enough for there to be no issues.”

“But what—” she shakes her head, nothing making sense, because this can not be happening. “What about everyone that went back in? How much exposure—” she doesn’t continue, the look in his eye all too familiar, one she’s seen before, one she gives to families when it’s bad news and all she can do is shake her head while she forces herself to try and breathe as her chest feels heavy, fear turning into horror, horror turning into something indescribable, a feeling she’s never felt before and it has her whole body aching with dread. She looks towards the building, can hear the shouts of his and another name she doesn’t recognise echo through the rubble and it has her running, a need to be in there, a need to find him, a need for him to be okay. She barley even knows she’s moving until there’s someone grabbing her waist, lifting her off her feet and turning her around, wrapping her into their arms.

“I can’t let you do that, princess.” Morgan whispers, fighting tooth and nail with her to keep her in his hold, “stop.” he tells her. “stop.” he says again, grabbing her tighter to the point where he knows it has to be hurting her, yet she wont give up, fighting his hold like her life depended on it and he's left with no choice but to let her go, only to grab her shoulders when she turns to move again and make her look at him. "Stop." he tells her again but this time his eyes burn into hers, and the fear that stares back at him almost makes him nauseous.

"Let me go." she tells him, trying to force herself from his hold but he's stronger than her. "Morgan, please." she pleads, "let me go."

"I can't do that." he tells her softly, "you know I can't."

She opens her mouth to speak, a plea on the tip of her tongue but it comes out as an exhale, a small cry at the end of it as she drops her head, covering her face with her hands as she takes deep breaths. She feels herself being pulled into his chest, his hand on the back of her head as he comforts her but its useless and they both know it. There isn't any comfort in a situation like this, how could there be?

He's brought out on a gurney a few moments later, the sound of shouts a few yards away catching her attention and she looks over before taking off in a run, at his side in moments as paramedics in full kits rush to his aid, she can see him looking at her, notices his hand reaching out for her and her heart aches as he grunts in pain, mumbling her name as she's pushed back by paramedics, explanations of how unsafe this is and that unfortunately you can't see him right now, he could have radiation poisoning hitting her ears but none of it registers as she pushes past them, latching his hand with hers as she smiles down at him, ignoring the protests of the paramedics as she follows them into the ambulance only to be stopped before she could get in.

"Agent. You really aren't allowed to be near him without proper—" he starts, but another interrupts.

"He's in a lot of pain, were going to have to knock him out." they explain and the other nods, before looking back at Emily.

"Just—" she starts, "let me sit with him and once he's out I'll go." she bargains and the man sighs. "I was in the building anyway, there a fifty percent chance I have it—"

"Fine." he gives in, and she thanks him before rushing in, sitting at Aaron's side and takes his hand in hers, smiling when he looks at her.

"Hey," he croaks out, "you're okay?"

"I'm okay." she smiles, holding back her tears as she runs a hand through his hair, pushing it from his forehead. "You're okay too." she says, nodding at the paramedic as he readies to put him out. "I love you." she whispers, and the smile on his face has her heart aching in her chest.

"I love you too." he repeats as he falls under, his hand going limp in hers and once his eyes close her head drops, silent cries leaving her body as she squeezes it.

"Agent Prentiss I can't stress this enough, I need you to step out—"

"I know." she sighs sadly, running her hand through his hair once more before existing, sending one last look his way as she watches the door's close.

"Come on." Morgan says, gently pushing her to get her moving, "we have to get to the hospital." she simply nods, lets him lead her to the SUV as her mind runs wild with different outcomes, the sound of the team talking seeming like background noise as she grabs the necklace from around her neck, staring at the ring hooked through it, feeling the future they had planned together slip through her fingers.

Eight Months Ago

She knows something is... off the moment she wakes up to an empty bed, her hand finding a sheet instead of a person. She frowns, looking at the vacant space next to her, she expects to maybe hear him in the shower, but the bedroom and the ensuite are.. silent, something it never is this early in the morning.

That off feeling doesn't fade, it instead increases when she makes her way through the house, stepping into the kitchen to find him turning quickly at the sound of her arrival and ending the call.

"Hey," he smiles, "you're up early." he tells her and she frowns, looking at the clock behind him.

"Its just past nine..." she says suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at him, "its our first day off this month, I expected you to be sleeping in."

"Couldn't sleep." he explains, "Coffee?" he asks and she nods, squinting her eyes at him as he moves around the kitchen; he walks over to her with the cup, smiling at her as he passes it over before catching her lips in his. "Good morning." he whispers against her lips and she smiles.

"Good morning." she whispers, smiling when he kisses her again before wrapping an arm around her waist. "care to share who was on the phone?" she teases, bringing the cup to her lip.

"I—" he begins, but his phone rings again and she smiles, watching through the top of the cup as he sighs, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Chief Strauss," he says and she rolls her eyes, "good morning." he adds but they already know what the conversation is going to be, something about a case, something about them being asked for by name, something that is going to rob them of their day off and so she heads out of the kitchen, sipping her coffee as she walks back into the bedroom.

He comes up behind her a few minuets later while she stands at the sink, wraps his arms around her with his head on her shoulder as they look at each other through the mirror, her head leaning sideways to rest on his.

"Where?" she questions.

"It's local. We can work it from the BAU." he tells her, "the rest of the team have been called as well."

"What's the case?" she asks and he stands, kissing her temple.

"I have no idea." he says, "local PD requested us." she nods, watching him disappear out of the bathroom muttering to himself and she smiles, biting her bottom lip as she wraps herself further into his shirt.

He pushes the dinner forward a week, buries the ring deeper into a draw she's never opened and curses under his breath, laughing because of course this would happen. Nothing about them had ever been easy, why should this be?

He doesn't even think about it, the ring, the proposal... pushes it to the back of his mind and it remains there for almost the entirety of the case, almost...It all happens pretty quickly after that.

She and Morgan are walking through the suspects house, he can hear their voices through their ear pieces and the sound of her voice is soothing as he stands outside, nerves firing through him.

The sound of the gun shot echo's, and everyone stills, waiting, praying for the moment where their friends voices come through the ear piece, but this time the waiting seems longer than it had been before, they seem to be left with silence for minuets rather than mere moments and his nerves turn to terror as he feels the team turn to face him, waiting for their next move, waiting for something. And he's about to speak, about to order them to run in behind him, be prepared for anything, when there's a gasp in his ear, followed by coughs, and harsh wheezes. They can hear Morgan asking Emily if she's okay, can hear the mumble of her reply and the sound of her voice nearly has him dropping to his knees, the feeling of complete relief almost overwhelming as her voice continues to travel to his ear.

Once she's out, he waits until they're out of earshot, out of the teams eye line, and as soon as they are he grabs her, pulling her into his arms and exhaling, the feeling of her relaxing into his hold making his heart melt. She rests her head in his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist and she sighs.

"I'm okay." she whispers and he simply nods, pulling away gently to cup her cheeks, look at her while he smiles. "I'm okay." she says again, taking his hands in her own and slowly pulling them down, "lets go home." she tells him with a smile, lacing her hand into his and laughing when he kisses her temple, before leading the two of them back to the SUVs.

He's still pacing when they get home, always opening his mouth to say something before closing it, only to then start pacing again and after almost an hour she snaps.

"What is wrong with you?" she asks, standing and he turns, facing her with wide eyes. "You've never acted like this before." she tells him, "stop pacing, just... sit." she tells him and he just, looks at her, knowing he should agree, knowing that he is acting strange but... his brain wont stop screaming about that day's events, the way she could have died and she would have never seen the ring, never worn in, never known just how in love with her he was, and he can not sit still. "Aaron, I swear to god—" she starts but he's already pulling the box out of this pocket, the box he put there when they first gotten home over an hour ago, opens it and interrupts her.

"Marry me." he says, and her words stop, her eyes widen and she stares, at him, then at the ring, and then at him again. "I had this plan, we were going to go for dinner and I was going to ask you at the bench, on the park where..." he fades out, before starting again, "but then today you, you got shot and... there was this moment, this long, horrible moment when I thought you were dead and— and all I could think about was how you would never know. Never know how much I love you—" she silences him with a kiss, cupping his face gently as she does, a smile forming as they break apart and she bites her bottom lip, laughing happily as he stares at her with confusion.

"Is that a yes?" he questions, a smirk growing on his face and she laughs, nodding her head as she hooks an arm around the back of his neck and kisses him again.

"Of course I'll marry you." she laughs happily and he smiles, taking the ring out and placing it on her finger before kissing her again, the band a cold but welcome feeling on his cheek as she cups it.

"I love you." he whispers, the feel of her smile against his lips warming his heart.

"I love you too." she tells him.

That night, he reaches over to his night stand and pulls out a necklace, a small charm hanging loosely from it and she sits up from where she rested on his chest.

"What's that?" she asks with a smile and he smirks, grabbing her left hand, the feel of the band on her ring finger making his heart flutter.

"I was thinking... you could hook your ring through it, that way you can wear it on the filed or..." he fades out, looking at her as she smiles. She grabs the necklace gently, staring at the small charm attached to it before her eyes land back on him.

"I love it." she smiles, leaning down to kiss him, "and I love you."

"I love you too." he tells her, tracing a finger down her bare back as she smiles.

She's wearing the ring on the necklace the next day, the sight of her smile as she tucks in under her shirt one he wishes he could imprint behind his eyes and replay forever, a smile he knows he reserved just for him.

They're all tested for radiation before they're allowed to step foot in the building, all scattered close by each other as they wait, as do many others. Each member of the team watching Emily from the corner of their eye as she leans against the door of their SUV, twisting the ring in her finger as she stares at it, wiping her tears.

"Has she said anything?" JJ asks Morgan when he comes up beside her, running a hand over his head.

"No," he tells her, "I don't—" he starts but stops himself, sighing with a shake of his head, "someone needs to call Haley..."

"I think Dave's already on it." she tells him, nodding her head towards the older man as he speaks on the phone a few yards away. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, under the circumstances." he says, "I think we all probably got out in time."

"If Aaron —" she starts, but he wont listen.

"I can't think about that." he tells her, casting his eyes to Emily again, "it will destroy her."

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to answer, a doctor heading their way.

"You're all clear." he tells them, "Agent Hotchner is still being seen to, but you're welcome to sit in the waiting area. I will come and get you the moment I know anything."

They thank him, a small, sad smile on their faces as they follow behind him into the hospital and Spencer turns, meeting Emily's eye as she trails behind them and he takes her hand and smiles when she accepts it.

"He's okay." he tells her, but they both know he can't be sure of that.

"Yeah." she whispers, following the team into the hospital, glancing once again to the necklace that rests in her palm, her ring feeling heavier than it usually does.

The wait seems like days as they sit there, each one coping differently. Spencer sits next to Emily, watching her closely as she stares ahead, her expression completely blank as her mind continues to run wild, JJ and Penelope sit across from her, the two blonde women ready to be there for whatever she needs should something happen, Dave leans against the wall, silent prayers leaving his mouth and Derek paces, the sound of his steps the only sound in the room.

"Will you sit down?" Emily snaps after a few more minuets and the man stops, turning his head to her, "you're making me dizzy."

"Yeah," he says gently, taking a seat next to Reid, "sorry."

Emily sighs, dropping her head forward and she's just about to apologise for snapping when a doctor finally appears.

"How is he?" Dave asks instantly as the doctor stands in front of them, and the look on her face has Emily turning around, a hand over her mouth as she exhales a shaky breath, a hand falling to her stomach as it turns violently, horror feeling like a brick in her gut.

"We did everything we could." she tells them once Emily turns to face her again, "we tried every antibiotic, tried every fluid... he was exposed for too long, there is nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

"What—" Emily says, clearing her throat, "what now?"

"We make him as comfortable as possible, keep him on a high dose of morphine for the next few hours, he will become short of breath, he'll have a high fever, he'll be nauseous... he'll be in a lot of pain." she tells her sadly, her tone full of regret and remorse.

"How long?" Emily asks her, and the woman sighs.

"I can't say for sure, some last a few hours, some a few days." she tells her, before sighing, "he currently has a high fever, he's on a morphine drip right now and is being filled with fluids. He had a high exposure to the radiation... I don't see him lasting the weekend." she tells her gently.

Emily inhales, clutching the ring that is back around her neck as she inhales, short, harsh breaths leaving her chest as she walks backwards.

"Can we see him?" Dave asks her.

"You can see him, yes, but I'm afraid you can't enter the room, there is a intercom on the wall, you can stay as long as you like."

"But we can't see him?" Derek asks and the doctor nods.

"No, I'm sorry..." she says, "If you'll excuse me." she tells them, sending them a sad smile before walking away, leaving them to process the news.

Everyone remains still, taking in the information, trying to understand it, no one hears footsteps heading towards them, and it's a small voice that breaks their trance.

"Where's daddy?" Jack asks them, resting on his mother's hips as she stands in front of them, and it isn't until Haley meets Emily eyes, sees the grief and heartbreak that stares back at her that it hits her.

"No..." she says, shaking her head, "he—"

"Why don't I take Jack?" JJ offers, smiling as the boy goes gently into her arms. She tilts her head for the team to follow, leaving the two women to talk.

"How long?" Haley asks her when its just two of them and Emily shakes her head, forcing herself to swallow the lump in her throat.

"They don't know." she tells her, "could be hours, could be days but they—" she stops, "they don't see him lasting longer than the weekend."

"Oh my g—" her words trail off, a hand coming over her mouth as she takes in Emily's words. "Where... where is he?" she asks.

"The ICU." Emily tells her, "you can't go in the room but there's an... intercom, outside." she says, "Jack should see him, if you —" but she doesn't continue, she can't, the pain in her chest becoming overwhelming.

"Yeah." Haley whispers, turning to look at her son as he smiles, oblivious to what is going on around him. "I'm sorry." she tells her and Emily looks up. "You're loosing the man you love and.. I'm sorry."

"Me too." Emily smiles sadly, "Excuse me." she says, passing her quickly and heading down the hall, out of sight as soon as she turns the corner and Haley puts on a smile and heads back to her son.

"I'm... going to take him to see Aaron." she tells the team, "one of you should go and find Emily." she tells them and Derek nods, already stepping to the side to pass her.

"He'll be breathless, he might have a fever but... he should see him." Reid tells her, "Before its too late."

Haley nods, stroking her sons cheek as she turns to smile at him, holding back her own tears for the sake of their child.

"You want to see Daddy?" she asks and the boy smiles, nodding his head. "Okay, come on." she says and they follow his doctor towards the ICU.

Derek finds her leaning on the wall, the back of her head resting against it as she closes her eyes, forces herself to keep breathing even though her heart feels like its going to snap inside of her chest.

"Haley took Jack to see him." he tells her, "you should go and see him to."

"How is this happening?" she asks him after a few moments, her voice small and broken, a sound he's never heard from her before and he hates it. Her eyes scream how much pain she's in, the tear falling down her cheek making him feel sick and he can only imagine how heartbroken she is, the thought of it being Spencer making his body recoil.

"I don't know, princess." he whispers, gently pulling her into his chest. "I'm sorry." he tells her gently, placing a kiss onto her head, feeling his heart physically shatter when her body rakes with sobs, the sound of them like a twist of a knife to his gut and all he can do is hold her tighter, knowing the one thing she needs is the one thing he can't give her...

a future with the man she loves.

Wiping her tears she heads down the hall, slowing her steps when she hears Jack talking to his father through the intercom, a small laugh leaving his body as he speaks. She smiles sadly at Haley when the woman turns, crossing her arms over herself as though she could protect herself from the inevitable. From the heartbreak, the loss, the grief that already felt like it was consuming her.

"Say goodbye," Haley whispers to her son, keeping her voice soft to avoid the crack and Jack smiles, waving at his father from the other side of the door, a sad goodbye daddy sounding more final than it ever should coming from such a young boy.

She stops in front of the other woman, Jack giving her a small wave as he rests his head on his mothers shoulder, a wave she gives back with a smile, the one he reciprocates reminding her of his father and her heart feel heavy, as she looks away.

"He..." Haley says, "he doesn't look good, Emily." she tells the other woman. "I think the weekend is a bit... out of reach." she whispers and all Emily can do is nod, taking a deep breath as she looks to the floor.

"Will you call me?" Haley asks, and she looks up, "when it happens? I don't want to hear it from Dave or... Morgan while they act like they get it..." she explains with such a sad tone that it almost has her dropping to the floor.

"Of course," she tells her, "I get that." she nods, and Haley smiles.

"Bye Emmy," Jack says softly as Haley begins walking off.

"Bye," she smiles at the boy, waving slightly as he looks at her other his mothers shoulder as they head out of view.

She clears her throat, taking a few breaths before she heads over to his room, she knew there is no way to prepare herself for this but the sight of him attached to wires, his body shivering as sweat pumps off him, his violent coughs forcing his body to recoil forward is an image she knows will haunt her forever.

"Hey..." she says through the intercom with a smile and he turns to her, a smile growing on his own face when he see's her, no longer scrunched in pain but, happy, light.

"Hi," he smiles, "how are you feeling?" he asks her and she laughs, truly laughs for the first time in over three hours and raises an eyebrow at him.

"How am I feeling?" she laughs, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I suppose," He smirks, before looking at her, "you're okay?" he asks and she swallows, nodding her head as she tries to remain smiling.

"I'm okay." she tells him, "are you?"

"I am now." he smiles, "Emily I—" he starts, before his body recoils forward, harsh chokes coming from his chest as he gasps for air and she's being moved out of the way before she can even process what's happening, can only watch as doctors in full protective gear rush into the room, her back hitting the wall with force as she continues to back up.

"What happened?" Reid asks as the team head over to her, she just shakes her head.

"I—," she starts, "I don't know." she tells them, her eyes not leaving the room even as the curtains close, blocking him from view.

"Agent Prentiss?" someone says a moment later, everyone's head turning towards them. "May I talk with you for a moment?"

The woman just nods, pushing herself of the wall, she follows the doctor down the hall, taking one last look at the closed off room before turning a corner towards the doctors office.

As she takes a seat the doctor smiles at her, an uneasy feeling in her stomach increasing as she looks at her.

"What's going on?" she asks apprehensively, "I need to—"

"I understand you are Agent Hotchners fiancée... I'll make this as quick as I can I know this can not be easy."

"What?" she asks, her stomach clenching with nerves.

"Something came up on your tests, something you aren't probably aware of yet." she tells her, "You're pregnant, Agent Prentiss." she says after a few moments, and Emily freezes, taking a breath.

"I'm sorry?" she asks, "What do you mean I'm— No.." she stutters, her mind working overtime as she tries to understand, tries to take in the entire day's events on top of the news she's being given. "What?"

"About three weeks, I would say. Very, very early on, I figure you wouldn't have even realised a change in cycle yet." she tells her, "I understand this is tough news given the circumstances and you do have options.."

"Options?" Emily asks, "I—" she stops, "Pregnant?" she questions.

"Yes." the doctor tells her, handing her a sheet with a handful of different results on it and she inhales as she see's it, the bold positive across from the word pregnant, and her world shifts, she feels it. "I know this isn't ideal and.. I am sorry." she says but Emily remains silent, "Take a few days, think about things. I can only imagine how difficult this must be."

"Yeah," she whispers, looking back at the doctor, "I have— I have to go." she says, standing, her mind scattered as her world flips around her, nothing feeling real.

"Of course," she says, handing her a card, "Please, if you need anything, if you need to discuss options, call me."

"Okay." Emily says, taking the card and with that leaves the room, pushing the piece of paper into her back pocket as she heads down the hall and back to the team. Back to Aaron. Her dying fiancée. The father of her child. The dying father of her child.

A child she isn't even sure she wants. A child they've barley even spoken about.

Four months ago

They're watching Jack and Henry laugh together in the living room, the team scattered around JJ's house when he says it.

"Do you want any?" he asks, placing an arm over her shoulder, lacing his fingers through hers as they reach for them.

"What? Kids?" she questions, turning her head to face him and he nods. "I... I've never really thought about it." she tells him honestly, having pushed the options of kids far from her mind after getting out of Interpol.

"You're great with Jack." he tells her with a smile, her own forming on her face as she looks towards him, his laugh echoing around the room as he runs from Morgan. "I'm not saying you have to decide right now but... we should definitely talk about it."

"Sure." she smiles, trying to ignore the feeling of fear as it creeps into her gut, the thought of bringing a child into the world knowing what their job entails, knowing that her past is brutal and could return at any moment, knowing she has no idea how to be a mother, never really having one herself.

"It's okay if you dont—"

"Can we talk about it later?" she interrupts, smiling sadly as she looks at him.

"Yeah." he tells her, kissing her temple before turning to the happy shouts of Jack, his smile wide and she has to look away, the idea that she might be the reason he doesn't have anymore feeling like a brick in her stomach.

They never do manage to talk about it again, it lingers, whenever he watches her with Jack and she can almost hear the words on the tip of his tongue but he never says them, choosing instead to let her be the one to start the conversation, but she never does, knowing that when she ultimately decides that she can't, that she wont be a mother, she's forcing him into that decision to, one where he never gets to have another child, and the fear that he'll leave her, the option of more children important to him, silences her every time.

The piece of paper that sits in her back pocket, the object another reminder that her whole life is going to change, has her dropping to the floor, her back against the wall as she throws her head forward, crying into her hands, and it dawns on her, that Aaron is dying, that the future she had planned was gone, a mere almost that she will think about for the rest of her life and as she cries, she thinks about all the times she could have spoken to him about their kid and never did, and now has to decide whether to share the news with him that there is a child, their child, his child, but one he will never meet.

That hurts more that the idea of him leaving her ever did.

It's Reid who finds her, she'd been sat there awhile, the cries had turned silent, her head leaning against the wall as she stares at the one opposite, the piece of paper dangling loosely in her hands as well as the necklace, the ring swinging side to side. Tears continue to fall down her face, the waterworks non stop as the information, her new reality, starts to overwhelm her.

"Hey." he says softly, coming up to the side of her. "He's okay." he tells her and she drops her head, a short sob leaving her body. He sits down next to her, looks at her as his head rests on the wall. "We were worried, when you didn't come back."

"Sorry," she says quietly, lifting her head back to the wall as she sighs, not even bothering to wipe the tears that wont stop anyway. "I just... needed a minute."

"Is everything okay?" he asks her and she laughs, because, what a stupid question. "I mean, I know it's not, but—" he says quickly, "What did the doctor say, is what I meant."

She sighs before looking at him, the worry that stares back at her making her smile sadly, and she hands him the paper, turning away, unable to look at the way his eye's widen as he reads it.

"Em.. I—" he stops, shaking his head, this is cruel.

"I don't know what to do." she whispers, wiping her cheeks with both hands as she sighs, "I don't even know if I should tell him."

"I'm sorry." he whispers because its all he can say, there are no words for a situation like this. "I didn't know you guys were trying." he says almost uncomfortably and she chuckles at that while she shakes her head.

"We weren't," she says, "I mean.. we were... but we weren't—"

"I got it." he stops her, a frown on his face as he shakes the mental image from his mind, a smile forming when she laughs. "I don't have an answer, for if you should tell him... I think—" he stops, placing his hand in hers, "I think you need to decide this on your own."

"It feels cruel, to tell him about a child he'll never meet," she says as she takes his hand, "I don't even know if I... I don't know." she sighs sadly.

"Do you want to keep it?" he asks her.

"I don't know." she says again, the three words falling off her tongue more in the last day than she thinks it ever has before. "If he was alive, if he'd be here, then, maybe but..." she tails off, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." he repeats, "for all of it."

"Me too." she says, turning to the sound of footsteps.

"He's asking for you." Morgan tells her, walking over and helping the two of them of the ground, "What's that?" he asks regarding the paper still in Spencer's hand.

"Nothing," he tells him, "Just the test results." he smiles and Morgan accepts it, lacing his hand through his free one; As the three are walking, Emily smiles gratefully at the young genius, taking the paper back slyly and putting it back in her pocket, telling herself she can deal with it later, but she knows if she wants to tell him, it has to be soon.

He smiles when he see's her through the door, a soft, but happy hi on his lips.

"How are you feeling?" she asks him, her own soft smile on her face.

"I'm okay," he tells her, but she can see right through it, the frown lines on his face, the harsh breaths he takes, he's in pain and it kills her. "No one could find you, said you had to...something about a doctor?" his words don't make sense, another hint to her that he's in more pain than he's letting on, but she lets him, able to give him just this one thing. Let him comfort her.

"Just something about the tests," she says, "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" he asks her, worry in his eyes.

"I'm okay," she tells him, "I—" she stops, clenching her jaw as she looks down, refusing to let herself cry in front of him. "I wish I could be in there."

"I know," he replies gently, "me too." There's a sadness in his eye, and it hits her then, that he knows he's dying to, that just as she is feeling their future slip away, so he is. He knows he'll never see his son grow up, never grow old, never meet his grandchildren, and it makes her feel sick, that he's aware of it, that he's grieving for everything he'll lose just as much as they are. And the thought of adding more to that, the thought of telling him that their having a baby just for him to know about another thing he will never meet, never watch grow up, just feels selfish.

"What is it?" he asks her and she snaps her head back up, smiling as she wipes her tears and shakes her head.

"Nothing." she whispers, "I just..."

"Yeah, I know," he whispers back, "I should have listened to you, you are always right after all." he teases, and she laughs.

"You're just now releasing this?" she jokes.

"Hm," he smirks, "I guess I've always—" he's interrupted by a series of harsh coughs, his breaths very few in between as he chokes and she hates that she can't be in there, that she can't rub his back and whisper your okay for just the little bit of comfort that he deserves. He leans back as his catches his breath, a mixture of exhaustion, high doses of morphine and death pulling him down, his eyes closing slightly.

"Get some rest." she tells him, "I'll be right here."

"I love you," he mumbles as he looks at her through thin eyes, his pale skin covered in sweat as he shivers.

"I love you too." she smiles, waiting for him to succumb to sleep before she lets her smile drop and the tears fall, allowing herself to be pulled into familiar arms as they wrap around her.

"I got you," Morgan whispers, holding back his own tears for her, for Hotch, for them. "I got you, princess." he says again, rubbing a hand down her back as she cries..

It happens that day, four hours later.

She isn't even with him, when it begins, she's in the waiting room, staring once again at the piece of paper, her brain working overtime to try and process it, to try and figure out if telling him is selfish and cruel, or if not telling him is selfish and cruel, the argument feeling loud in her head.

It's Morgan who comes to get her, his face full of devastation as she looks up and it makes her heart fall, the paper forgotten and falling to the floor when she stands, before rushing past him, not noticing him go to pick it up.

"Agent Prentiss—" The doctor starts as Emily reaches the room, "You—"

"I need to be in there." she tells her, her heart hammering in her chest, the thought of him dying alone making her want to drop to her knees.

"I'm afraid you can't—" she starts but she wont accept it, already charging past her, and neither the team or the doctors are able to stop her as she barges past them all, working on her need to see him, to tell him, to be there making her stronger than them all combined and she's through the door in less than thirty seconds, the sound of it shutting behind her louder than intended, and everyone jumps.

"She can't be in there—" one starts, already moving to forcibly remove her from the room but Dave steps forward.

"She's already in there, you wont get her out."

"It's against all procedure, she could—"

"She's already in there." he tells them again, "It's too late."

"What are the chances of her getting it? If she stays with him?" JJ asks.

"Ten, maybe fifteen percent." they tell her, "But—"

"She'll sign the forms, say she went in their against orders. Just, let her be with him, don't make her watch him die alone." Penelope says from her sheet on the chairs.

"It gets worse," Morgan says as he walks up to them, passing the paper to JJ as she reaches for it.

"Oh... my god." she sighs sadly, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"What?" Dave asks, everyone's eyes on the paper.

"She's pregnant." JJ tells them, and the area goes silent as they look towards the room, each one feeling stuck as they watched Emily close the curtains.

He turns to the door when it shuts and his eye's widen when he see's her, his hand already reaching for her on instinct.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, his voice breathless, "You—"

"Don't worry," she tells him, "You're not radio active." she teases, the white lie feeling like the right decision when he visibly relaxes, reaching out his hand for her again, she takes it with a smile. He moves over, tapping the new space with a puppy dog look and she laughs, rolling her eyes as she sits, before moving herself to lay on her side, his body slotting perfectly in her arms as she runs a hand down his cheek, the other clasped in the one that rests in the middle of them.

"Jack likes you," he tells her, his tone soft, but breathy and harsh, and she closes her eyes, preparing herself for him getting ready to go. "You should stay, in his life. Haley could... find it useful, and he'd like to see you sometimes."

"I will," she tells him, running a hand through his hair, "I promise."

"I'm sorry," he says after a few moments, "for going back into the building, for—"

"Shh," she silences him, shaking her head, "this isn't your fault."

"If I—"

"You saved that little girl, " she tells him, "You did the right thing. It's okay." she whispers, lifting her hand from his to cup his cheek, make her look at him. "I'm proud of you." she smiles, and he laughs, a slight cough following and she runs a thumb over his cheek.

"I really wanted to marry you." he tells her, reaching for the ring around her neck. "I always imagined we would just get home after a tough case, go to city hall..." he smiles, his eye's brightening when he see's hers, the happy laugh that leaves her throat still making his heart flutter, even now. "I was thinking we... would go to Europe for our honeymoon, you'd, take me to all your favourite places..."

"That sounds nice." she whispers, "We would have gone to Paris first." she tells him, "Then Italy... maybe Rome or.. Florence, depending on the time of year."

"Definitely spring." he smirks, their happy laughs making it seem like its pillow talk, like its something they can plan, and not something that went from future to fantasy in less than twenty four hours.

"Spring?" she smiles, "Then Florence," she tells him, running her fingers through his hair as he goes lighter in her arms, his breaths becoming more and more uneven while he places his hand in hers on his cheek, bringing it to his lips that linger for a moment.

She knows it now or never, telling him or remaining quiet, letting them bask in the bubble of what if— but the thought of him never knowing, the idea that if she kept them, she would have to live with the fact she never gave him a chance to know they exist has her stomach knotting, the feeling of regret already to heavy.

"I have to tell you something." she whispers, "I— it seems selfish, to tell you but I—"

"What?" he asks softly, lacing their fingers together on his still beating chest.

She looks at him for a moment, the words unable to come out of her mouth.

"Em.. sweetheart, what is it?" he asks her.

She closes her eyes, shaking her head as she drops it slightly, squeezing his hand before looking at him.

"I'm pregnant." she whispers, so quiet that if the room wasn't as silent as it was, he wouldn't have heard her. "I— Just found out a few hours ago and its.. early, like, three weeks and— I didn't know if I should tell you because it seems so... cruel, because—" she rambles, taking a pause to look at him, "I don't know what to do." she tells him, her voice broken, "about any of this."

He lifts his hand, cupping her cheek softly as he wipes her tears, before placing a soft kiss on her lips, one that he puts all of his feelings into, a fear that it could be his last.

"You do what you think is best." he whispers against her lips, their foreheads resting together, "I'm sorry—" she silences him with another soft, sweet kiss.

"I love you." she whispers, their tears joining as one, "I—"

"I know," he smiles, pulling away from her slowly, resting his head back on the pillow as he looks at her. "I love you too." he tells her, "so much."

He's fading out, she can hear it in his breathing, in the way his eye's are closing more frequently, in the way his muscles feel light against her.

She runs her thumb over his cheek again, a smile on her face as she tangles their bodies together, wanting to remain as close to him as possible for the short time they had left.

"I'm sorry I wont be there, for whatever you decide." he chokes out, his voice rough with less air meeting his lungs, an almost gasp for air in his tone. "I know you never really knew if you wanted it—"

"It's okay." she smiles, nodding her head while she holds her tears back, "I'm glad you kissed me in your office that time." she teases, reminding them both of just how far they had come since that first kiss almost three years ago and his laugh has her smiling, finding some happiness in their last moments.

"Me too," he tells her, "I'm glad you showed up at my apartment the week after to shout at me for it."

"It felt justified at the time," she jokes, pushing some hair from his head as he sweats, when a violent shiver making his way through his body she holds him closer, smiling when their faces line up on the pillow. "It's okay." she nods, her voice delicate as she swallows the lump in her throat.

His breathing shallows out, the shivers stopping as he looks at her.

"Thank you for loving me," she whispers to him, the crack in her voice nothing compared to the one in her chest.

"Thank you for letting me." he smirks, allowing them one more happy laugh before he stops fighting, letting the exhaustion in, letting it take over.

"I love you." she tells him; then he's gone, the last thing he ever hears a declaration of love he'd never been in doubt of.

He's gone before her sobs take over, and in the end she's grateful for that.

-

She doesn't know how long she stays in there, clinging to him as she sobs, unable to accept that he's truly gone, knowing the moment she lets go, the moment she stands and leaves the room, that it's real. That she'll never see him again, never come home and be able to fall easily into his arms on the couch, or smile as she watches him attempt to do a household chore, never hear him laugh at his own jokes or feel his hands in hers, never again feel loved by him, unsure if she would ever feel love again. But she knows she has to, has to leave the room, step back into reality, her new reality, a life without him; She detangles herself from him, looks at him once more placing a kiss on his forehead. She wipes her tears, steps off the bed and heads for the door, hesitating for a moment, letting herself take a breath, letting herself be alone in her grief before she has to take on everyone else's.

As soon as she opens the door, everyone stands, looking at her with pity as she closes it, the click of the door sounding like an ending to a life she thought she would have.

"Em—" JJ starts heading towards her but the woman holds out her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"I have to call Haley." she says in a voice she doesn't even recognise, a voice that's quiet but harsh, almost like she had swallowed razor blades.

"I can do that." Dave says, taking a step towards her, but she shakes her head, stepping away from him.

"No, she—" she stops, inhaling a breath as closes her eyes, leaning her head on the door as dizziness over takes her, feeling too much but nothing at all all at once. "I have to do it." she tells him.

"Emily—" JJ says softly, "really, let them do it, you've been through a lot and—"

"Agent Prentiss," a doctor say's as they come around the corner, "I'm sorry for your loss." he tells her and she just stares at him, "you need to come with me, you needed to be tested for—"

"I have to make a phone call." she says, already trying to walk away but he stops her, a soft hand on her arm and she spins. "What—"

"You really need to have another test done, just to be safe." he tells her, "you can take the call from the room. I understand there may be a few you need to make under the circumstances."

"I—" she starts, before giving up, letting herself be lead by him.

"I'll stay." Morgan says to the team, "Go, see your family, get some air."

"He's really dead..." Garcia whispers.

"Yeah," he sighs, "You'll inform Strauss?" he asks Dave, who just simply nods his head. None of them move, their eye's remaining on the window, the knowledge of what is behind the closed curtains enough to have each one of them nauseous.

She make's the call while she waits for the results, holds back her own sobs as she listen's to Haley's.

"I'd like to help with... planning the funeral?" she asks quietly, "I know I'm—"

"Of course," Emily says, "He's the father of your child. You get a say."

"Thank you." the other woman whispers, "I'm so sorry, Emily."

She inhales, pressing her ring into her hand. "Me too."

The entrance of the doctor has her ending the call.

"You're all clear," she smiles, "I hear you're pregnant." she adds, a sad smile on her face, "I assume congratulations is the wrong word."

"Yeah," she says quietly, still processing that fact, still unsure on what she's going to do and still refusing to think about it. "I'm free to go?"

"Yes," she smiles, "I would like you to come back in six weeks if you decide to keep the baby, just to make sure everything is okay before—"

"Sure," Emily smiles, "Thanks." and she's out of the room.

She excepts to find one or two of her friends stood there, outside the room her dead fiancée lay in until he was cleared for transport, and is shocked to find all five of them.

"Hey," JJ says, smiling at her friend, "Everything okay?"

She simply nods, "I—" she starts but, stops, having no idea what to say, what to do, taken over by a sort of trance, her whole body feeling numb.

"You can stay with me and Will, if you want." JJ offers, "Don't feel like you have to go home until you're ready."

"Thanks," she smiles, "But I just... I need to." she says, nodding her head.

"I'll drive you," Dave tells her, shaking his head when she goes to decline. "You're in no state to drive and even if you were, you don't have a car."

"Okay," she says, noticeably avoiding looking at the door of the room. "Thanks."

It takes them all a few moments, but eventually they make their way from the hospital, each one buried in a mixture of their own heartbreak, and the heartbreak on behalf of Emily.

"Call me if you need anything." JJ tells her, and she nods, before following beside Dave as he heads to the car.

They're riding in silence for almost ten minuets when he speaks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"About what?" she says, closing her eyes as she swallows the bile in her throat.

"Any of it. Aaron, the baby..."

Her eyes snap open, turning her head to face him. "What—"

"You dropped it," he tells her, "The paper. Morgan picked it up."

She doesn't speak, instead turns to look at the road.

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"No." she says, picking at the skin around her fingers.

"Well, whatever you decide. We're all here for you." he tells her and she gives him a small smile before letting them fall back into silence, quickly wiping a tear that falls down her cheek.

"You didn't have to walk me up." she tells him, unlocking the door.

"Yes I did." he tells her and she rolls her eyes, forcing the door open as she holds her breath, but nothing could have prepared her for it. For the way his cup from that morning was still on the living room table, the newspaper he was reading discarded as though he thought he'd be picking it back up when he got home tonight. Throwing her bag onto the table next to the door she catches sight of his coat, one he'd worn the previous weekend when they went out with Jack. There was a picture of the three of them just on the counter ahead of her and she almost wants to throw it at the wall but instead, heads further into the house, turning to face Dave when she reached the middle of the living room.

"You really don't need to stay," she tells him, "I... want to be alone..."

"Of course," he nods, "If you need anything."

"I'll call you." she finishes with a small smile, and he accepts it, leaving with a smile of his own and once the door shuts, she inhales, forcing herself to walk into the bedroom, her eyes landing on the bed, their bed, his white t-shirt still in a ball on the bed from where he'd thrown it at her that morning after getting back from his run, she can still hear their laughter, as though their happiness haunts the now silent house. Without the energy to even get undressed, she climbs into the bed, the scent of him overclouding her as she lays her head into his pillow, fresh tears rolling down her eyes and she turns, lays on her back with her eyes to the celling and she places her hand on her flat stomach.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers, before letting herself cry once more, accepting her new reality, one where she no longer has him, one where he no longer exists.

His funeral is small, the team, Haley and Jack, his brother and some other people he met during his time at the FBI.

It remains a blur, the service, the burial, the speeches, all of it, similar to the three weeks leaning up to it, it all merges together.

Haley finds her at the wake, hiding in Dave's overly large kitchen picking at a piece of bread, the selection of food making her nauseous.

"Hey," the blonde woman says, apologising when the other startles before turning. "How are you?"

"Getting by," she smiles, placing the plate on the counter, "How are you? How's Jack?"

"I think... he finally accepts it," she says sadly, "He said goodnight to him while looking up at the sky last night, which was..." she trails off, shaking her head as tears well in her eyes. "But we'll get through it. We all will."

Emily can only smile, scared that if she spoke, she'd cry.

"Have you made a decision?" Haley asks quietly, casting an eye to her still flat stomach when Emily frowns.

"What—" she questions, "How do you know?"

"I've been pregnant with a Hotchner baby," she smiles, "I know the signs." she adds and Emily looks down, overwhelmed by a feeling of complete jealousy, can't help the way it rises up in her as she realises Haley got the pregnancy experience she would kill for. One shared with a man she loved. The very same man who should have been here, with her. And Haley realises her mistake the moment her head drops.

"God, Emily, I'm... I'm sorry, that was... I—"

"It's fine." she smiles, looking up again, "But, no, I haven't." she tells her.

"Whatever you decide, I want you to know that.. I want you in Jacks life." she says, "He loves you and..." she stops, "I'd like to be apart of your... their life, should you decide to keep it. For you. For Jack. Aaron isn't here but.. It's still Jack's sibling and they should have a family. You both should." she tells her, smiling at the woman as she looks at her, "No matter what you decide, you're not alone, Emily. You'll always have a place in Jack's life... In our life."

She's silent for a moment, before she reaches for the blondes hand, squeezing it gently, "Thank you." she whispers.

"How far along are you?"

"I don't know, five, maybe six weeks."

"If you need someone to talk to about this, I'm a phone call away."

"I know," she smiles, "Thank you."

The blonde woman walks around, gently pulling her into her arms.

"You're not alone, Emily." she tells her, "And your baby won't be either."

"I don't know what to do." she whispers, and Haley pulls back, looking at her new friend.

"You do what's best for you, what you can handle." she tells her, "But what you have inside you is the last little bit of Aaron we have, and I don't want you to make a rash decision only to regret it later on." she whispers, "You have a few weeks, and I'm here, the team is here, and we will respect whatever decision you make. But were also here to listen, to advice, whatever you need."

"Thank you," Emily whispers, "I— thank you." is all she can say, and Haley smiles, before Jack calls her and she's gone.

She watches Haley and Jack from the corner of the room, wonders if she can do it, be a mother, raise a child, but then Jack smiles at her, a smile that is all Hotchner and the idea that there is one more part of Aaron left here, one last little bit of them, she thinks that maybe she can, maybe this baby is what was going to save her from suffocating in her unbearable grief.

-

nine months later 

She stops the car on the path, taking a deep breath as she looks ahead at the graveyard, reaching for the ring that rests on her chest as she exhales before getting out of the car. She grabs them from the back sheet, shifts them nicely into her arms and walks over slowly, the route to his grave stone now muscle memory, having done it so many times.

“Hey.” she says gently, looking down at the stone, smiling at the fresh flowers that sit there, each selection a different type from a different person. “I know it’s been a few weeks but…” she bends down slowly, shifting her arms slightly. “I was doing a thing.” she smirks, looking at the one month old in her arms.

“She has your eyes,” she says, “your nose to.” she adds, smiling at her daughter as she grabs her hands forward at the grave. “Say hi daddy,” Emily coo’s, another whisper of hi leaving her lips as her daughter babbles.

“I’ll bring her, as much as I can.” she says, “She’ll know you through me, through Haley, I’m sure Jack has a few stories to.” she looks at the stone sadly, “You should have been here,” she whispers, clearing her throat as tears well put in her eyes, smiling when their daughter reaches out to touch the stone, turning to look at her with eyes that make her heart warm, eyes that remind her of Aaron.

you should have been here remains a constant thought throughout every mile stone, forever a space in their life where he should have been. 

A void they never fill. 

fin

[aliwritesss]

~ Labyrinth

Pairings: Eric x reader

Genre: fuckboy au!

Warnings: angst, slightly suggestive, slow burn, swearing

Based on this AU! Highly recommended to read it before you start the series, but can be read alone.

1/? Masterlist

-“… And remember! The deadline for the essay is in three weeks.”- You hear your History teacher’s voice but no one listens to him. The bell just ringed and that meant freedom.

-“ It’s Friday!!! Let’s do something fun.” You hear Kevin’s voice next to you. You thank the heavens and stars to have him in your life, you don’t know what you would have done without him all this time.

-“ What are you thinking?”

-“ Well… You know, everyone’s been on the edge these past months with the exams and all. So Juyeon thought I’d be fun to do a small gathering, only close friends.” He says with the smallest voice and you feel all your body tense up. If you knew one thing is that you couldn’t go to parties, not yet. Not when it’s been so long since you’ve seen him and you’re actually starting to move on. To wake up and not think of him.

-“ It sounds fun! But I think I’m gonna pass this time, I better start working on this assignment.”

-“ Cmon (Y/N), it’s been a month. You gotta go to your old self, I miss you. I miss us having fun.” It pains your heart to hear Kevin, you’d love to have the balls to go to their dorms and be yourself, to dance again till you can’t stand up, to laugh freely but you feel that the spark inside of you has died and you’re afraid that if you go, it won’t light up anymore.

-“ I promise you I’ll go back to my old self. You’ll get back your partner in crime, my little moon.” You say hugging him and exiting the class. -“ Just give me a little bit and you’ll get back your star.”

-“ The world better get ready once the moon and star duo comes back.” He says giving you one of his best smiles and you feel a little bit better. You’ve known him for so long and clicked since then. One day you two were in class and someone said you looked like the team rocket from Pokémon, always together being mischievous. And since then you baptized your friendship as the moon and star duo.

As you walk outside you feel his comment nag you in the back of your head. “Why do I have to feel so bad when he’s doing fine? Was everything a lie? Did he truly love me?” These thoughts have been bugging you lately and you’re starting to get annoyed. You thought you were doing fine but sometimes these dark clouds will come and shake you down. And it seems like today was one of these days.

“ So… Juyeon is doing a gathering huh? Do you realize that it means half of the campus is going, right?”

-“ Yeah… We told him only close people and Changmin said that meant around 50 friends.” He says, rolling his eyes. -“ Thank god we have Sangyeon and Jacob to keep him in check or else It’d be a nightmare.” And that makes you laugh because it’s true, you remember one night you were staying the night in their dorms and suddenly Sunwoo and Chanhee started arguing about the smallest thing. Sangyeon only needed to look at them to make them stop. It was so funny, you don’t want to mess with an angry Sangyeon to be honest.

-“ And… Here we go. I knew it.” You hear Kevin’s annoyed voice. -“ They’re asking me to buy drinks, it seems like more people are coming tonight. I have to go now bubs, but we should do something fun this weekend okay? Just the two of us.” He says while hugging you and you nod. Maybe that’s what you need, to start slowly coming out of your cave.

You start making your way to your dorm thinking about the million things you have to get done in these two weeks and you can feel your anxiety already coming. The pressure you’ve been feeling these past few days it’s getting worse everyday. And the worst of it, it’s that you don’t have anyone to talk about it. Unconsciously, you touch your necklace, feeling a little bit better. You look down to the tiny shiny star and remember the night he gave it to you.

-“ I’ll be your star, ready to guide you even in the darkest times, even when there’s no moon shining.” He said softly in your neck. You smiled at him and looked at the charm. It was a little star filled with crystals. Stunning.

-“ When you feel like giving up, remember that I’ll be here with you. Faintly.” Eric said, touching your necklace.

“Where are you now? Where are you now when I need you the most?” You think for yourself, It’s not like you weren’t starting to move on from him, which you are doing. But you were not forgetting him, and you wish you could.

You wish you could erase all these sweet moments, act like nothing happened. Act like him, cold and unbothered. Why did him have to play you? Was everything a lie? Everything he said, was just a trap to only have fun with you? You couldn’t trust your memories, it seems like you only could remember the good ones.

But what about that night you two had a fight on a party because he was with this girl, laughing and talking the whole night while you were alone? You still remember his words: “ Stop being a pain in the ass, if I wanted to hook up with her dont you think I would have already done it?”. And you being a silly naive girl in love, acted like it didn’t hurt you. Like he didnt had the power to destroy you in matter of seconds if he wanted.

And that was the reason you broke up with him.

Everyone knew you were his girl and god forbid anyone who dared to touch you. But that’s it, you were only that, his girl. He didn’t bother to put a label, you were there for him and that was enough.

-“ Eric what are we doing?”- You asked him the night you two broke up.

-“ What do you mean?”-

-“ What are we doing together? What is this? Are we exclusive? Are we truly in a relationship?”- You asked trembling, you weren’t ready to hear his answer.

-“ Not this again (Y/N). I told you I don’t want to talk about it and you keep bringing this up. I said you are my girl and that should be enough.”-

-“ But it isn’t. It isn’t when there’s a queue of girls waiting for you to get tired of me and drop me like a toy. And I had enough, I need to know what I am to you.” You said sitting in his bed.

-“ You are making me tired with all these questions. I said drop it, (Y/N). You know how I am and still chose to be here with me.”-

-“ I chose you bc you said that you couldn’t do this without me, Eric! You told me that I was special and-.”

-“ So? That gives you the right to be called my girlfriend?”- And that was the last straw. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, it’s like someone snapped you back to reality. Like you just woke up from a beautiful dream and got hit with the true world.

He loved you, but not in the right way.

He cared about you, but not enough.

You got dressed and started to pick yoiur things while crying. You needed to get out as soon as possible, even if it was 3 in the morning.

-“Cmon (Y/N) don’t be like this. I got mad and you know I say things I regret later. Please let’s talk in the morning when we are calm, okay? Babe please-“

-“ Don’t touch me, Eric. I’ve had enough. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep falling in love with you more and more when we are not in the same page. Not even in the same book.”- You said putting on your sweatshirt, well, his sweatshirt now yours.

-“ Are you serious? Are you going to be like this? After all we’ve been through?”-

-“ Exactly, after all we’ve been through you still think I don’t deserve to be your girlfriend. And let me correct you, you’re the one who doesn’t deserve to be my boyfriend. I’m tired of your shit.”

-“ I know you’re angry (Y/N) but I swear if you leave this room that’s it.”- He said staring at you. You gave him one last smile and closed the door. It was so late at night and you decided to bring this topic up… That was a stupid move of you to be honest, but it needed to be done.

You can feel your vision getting blurry with all the tears falling but you don’t care anymore.

-“ Star? Is everything ok?”- you feel Kevin’s sleepy voice coming from the other side of the hallway and you let out a sob. -“ Hey, Hey. What happened bubs? Why are you crying? Where’s Eric?”-

-“ I… I- I think we just broke up.” You said hugging him and starting to sob even harder.

- “ Oh gosh…” He said quietly while stroking your hair.

And after that everything was a blur, you only remember him and Haknyeon taking you to your dorm and sleeping there. Everyone knew what happened because they heard you two arguing but no one could bring the topic up. It was typical of you two to argue, but in a matter of hours everything was cleared. But this time was different and both of you knew it.

This time the damage was done and there was no going back now.

A/N: So it’s finally here!! The first chapter of this little series. Thanks to all of you for liking so much the AU and for telling me what you preferred to see on this series. It’ll be after the break up, but I thought it’d be nice to have a little context of why did the discussion happen and to see the dynamic of the relationship. Honestly speaking, I love Eric’s fuckboy vibes so much.. But still it pains me to see him acting this way :( I apologise for any typo or mistake! And remember you can ask in the comments or dms to be tagged and that requests are open!!

TAGLIST: @asherbl @fairycob @givememunjang

[granolabird]

The Weight of Reality

Post 2x08. Sorry guys, there isn’t really a way to fluff this one out. It’s gotta be angsty. Beth finds out about Rick being put in jail, and immidiately calls him. Needless to say, he’s not doing well. Written while listening to Giants by Imagine Dragons on loop bc that’s such a Rick-centric song. 

Warings: One single F bomb. And a lot of sad teenagers. That is all.

Tags: @hournites @bethchapelsbonnet 

If you’d like to be added to my weekly Hournite fic taglist feel free to ask :)

.

Beth is sitting at her desk doing research when she gets the call. It’s ten at night, and fireworks still light the sky outside her house. She’s always hated the fourth of July. Too much noise and partying. Beth was a fan of neither of those things. This fourth of July felt different though. It felt too quiet, what with all the Eclipso business. She was almost thankful for the bright colourful bursts of light outside her window, reassuring she was still in the real world. She was still here. Eclipso couldn’t get to her as long as she had the goggles on.

Her first instinct after the whole Eclipso business had been to phone Rick. He hadn’t responded, which was nothing out of the ordinary. She chalked it up to the bad service at his farm, as that was his usual excuse. When Beth called Courtney and she didn’t respond was when Beth began to worry. Courtney spent all her free time on her phone. She always answered. She was decidedly not answering. Then Beth tried Pat, who she only really called during emergencies, to the same result. She left them all messages of varying concern, telling them about how she really needed to talk, and she had more information on Eclipso. Perhaps the Whitmore-Dugan family were out having a fourth of July celebration. That made sense. That was the option Beth went with.

So that’s how Beth got here. Googling her life away, looking at shady PDF documents on possible origins of Eclipso, and on the original JSA. She didn’t have much but it was something to keep her brain occupied. She’s skimming an article about The Flash and everything that’s known about him when her phone rings. 

It’s Pat.

She almost takes her goggles off before picking it up instinctively, but she corrects herself and leaves them on as she answers the phone. There's a moment of silence on the other side of the line before Pat speaks.

“Beth?”

“Pat! Thank goodness, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you-”

“Beth, I need to tell you something.” There’s a serious tone to his voice. It reminds Beth of the time the hospital called to tell her family that her grandfather was deathly ill. It’s a tone of voice laced with pity, and she hates it. After everything she’s dealt with tonight pity is the last thing she feels like dealing with.

“What’s wrong?”

She keeps her thoughts to herself, instead focusing on figuring out what Pat has to say. There’s more silence on the other end of the line. She can hear what sounds like Courtney crying in the background. She hears Pat take a steadying breath.

“Pat? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Rick.”

Beth’s entire body drops. She feels it. She feels herself crumple. The feeling of dread she thought she’d destroyed when she fought off Eclipso returns instantly, making her feel sick. Rick. 

Something’s happened to Rick.

“Is he…”

“He’s okay, Beth. But he’s in Jail.”

“What?”

“Eclipso got to him. Made him think Matt was Grundy. Rick attacked him, and almost killed him. The police took Rick in. Court and I are at the station now, we’re trying to get it figured out.”

“No.” She can barely hear herself speak.

“Beth I’m so sorry”

“What about the hourglass? Can’t he use that to break out of jail or something?” Beth is scrambling for an answer, a way to help Rick.

“You know he wouldn’t do that Beth, even if he could.”

“If he could?”

“He smashed the Hourglass.”

Beth doesn’t know when she started crying, hot tears flowing down her face. She finally got somewhere with her parents and now this. Now this.

“Beth? Are you okay?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry Pat I just… I need a minute to process.”

“It’s okay Beth. I can call you back later if you want. Then we can talk about what you wanted to tell us?”

Beth wants to say no, that she has to tell them about Eclipso and her immunity to him with the goggles right now but she can’t. She physically cannot. Every time she opens her mouth it feels like fire is creeping up from her lungs. She can barely breathe. 

“Yeah.” 

Is all she can force out.

She’s shaking as Pat hangs up, staring at her cracked phone screen. The photo of her and the rest of her friends smiling split by the nasty lightning-bolt shatters on the glass screen. Broken. She looks at Rick in the photo, his arm slung around her leisurely as he laughs at a joke Mike said before taking the picture. She wants nothing more than to be back with him at that moment. Things seemed so much easier then. 

“I’m sorry Rick. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you.” She murmurs, pressing her forehead to the top of her phone screen.

The phone, of course, provides no response.

She stares at the screen a while longer before she gets an idea, frantically searching up the number of the police station. She’s not sure it’ll work. She’s not well versed in the etiquette of phoning the police station to talk to a newly-arrested teen but it won’t hurt to try, right? 

She hesitates for a moment, her finger hovering over the phone number. She takes a deep breath before she presses it, and then hits the call button.

Ringing

Ringing

And then 

“Blue Valley Police Department, how can I help you?” A deep male voice answers the phone.

“Hi! Sorry, I don’t know if this is the right number to call, or what I’m supposed to be doing here really.” She’s speaking quickly, words blending together in her panic. She takes another deep breath and then continues.

“You have someone I know in detainment? A Rick Tyler? Or maybe he’s under Rick Harris, but that’s not really his name.” She cringes at that statement, but the officer, whoever they are, should call Rick by his real name. He deserves at least that.

“Right. So why exactly are you calling?”

“Oh! Sorry, I’d like to talk to him if that’s possible? I know he’s just gotten there but I’m.. Well I’m his closest friend. I just really need to talk to him.”

“Listen kid, we already have people here trying to figure out what to do with him-”

“Pat and Courtney. They know me, they’d want me to talk to him too. Please. I really need to talk to him. Even if it’s only for a little while. Please.”

A deep sigh on the other end of the line.

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for young romance. He’s in a detention cell right now. I’ll see what I can do.”

Beth’s mind catches on to the words young romance. She wants to correct the officer and tell her there is no romance, but she doesn’t. Because that would be a lie. There was something. A spark. One that may never turn into anything if Rick gets sent off to a juvenile detention centre somewhere halfway across the country.

“Thank you so much.” Beth breathes, realizing she hadn’t said anything in response.

The officer only grunts, and then she hears the sound of the phone being placed on the table, and footsteps walking away.

It seems like hours before she hears more footsteps, hurried, almost panicked. She hears a vague 

“You have to be quick. I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

No response, only a swoosh of air as the phone is lifted up and then 

“Beth?” Rick’s voice is shaking.

Beth has never heard him so genuinely scared. He sounds terrified, and so deeply sad. He sounds broken. 

“Rick. Rick, I’m here, what happened?”

“Beth.” He repeats her name, and then she hears him sob. 

It’s a guttural noise as he gasps for air, and Beth wishes she could reach through the line to hug him. She wants to be there with him more than anything.

“Rick, it'll be okay.”

“It won’t. I’ve fucked it all up Beth. We can’t fix this one.” He sounds so defeated. 

“We can try. I’m not going to stop trying. This isn’t your fault. We’re going to get you out of this.” “This is my fault. This is entirely my fault. It was bound to happen one day, and now it did. Even Matt knew it, I was destined for the cells. That’s my future.” He’s not even listening to what she’s saying, just rambling to himself at this point.

“Rick-”

“You deserve better than me Beth. You, and the whole team. I’ve been nothing but a dead weight. You’ll be better off without me.”

“RICK.” Beth half-shouts into her phone, tears still burning molten streams down her cheeks.

She hears Rick inhale sharply on the other end of the line. He’s surprised. Good, at least that’ll get him out of his own mind.

“I’m not leaving you and that’s final. Nobody is. You may not think it, but we care about you. A lot. We’re going to get you out of this.”

Another sob on Rick’s end, and she can hear his heavy breathing as he tries, and fails, to regain his composure. 

“I’m sorry. Beth, oh my god I'm so sorry.” She wishes Rick didn’t sound so terrified. 

She wishes there was some way she could reverse time and be there to help him. To make everything better. 

“It’s not your fault. It’s not. Eclipso made you do it. Please, please don’t blame yourself. Please don’t.” She’s pleading, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“I… Beth I…” He’s at a loss for words. 

She hears the deep voice of the Officer in the background. Shuffling. “I’ve gotta go Beth.” His voice is strained. “Ok. I’ll see you as soon as I can.” Beth offers, hoping it’ll provide him some reassurance.

“Right.”

A deep breath on his end, and then more shuffling and voices. “Beth I.. I lo… I…” He’s really trying to say something, his words choked as he struggles to spit them out. 

Before he can finish his sentence there’s more footsteps and the phone clatters down. A few more seconds of shouts and shuffling before the line cuts out, and Beth is left alone again.

She’s almost certain she knows what he was going to say in that last sentence but she can’t bring herself to think too much about it. It’ll be something to talk about once they get Rick out. They have to get him out. With a sigh Beth returns to staring at her shattered phone screen, still crying. She stares at Rick’s smiling face, and tries to smile back at him. She just wants to be with him. She just wants it all to be okay. She’ll just have to keep telling herself it’ll all be okay. Then, maybe one day it will be. 

It has to be.

[spyrkle4]

owl house and amphibia destroyed me this week rip Sparks

and im gonna talk about them

so uh first owl house

(spoilers under cut u know the drill)

-THE DREAM SEQUENCE.... SO CUTE ;-;

-King just wants both his families together ;-;

-The flashback sequence Luz is not Okay

-Also she feels so bad for contributing its not ur fault Luz bby ;-;

-HOOTY AND KING GIVE BEST HUGS

-COOL AUNT LILLITH TO THE RESCUE

-I made a post about this but how dare they have Eda cry worrying abt her kids that is the face of a worried mother and i am hit emotionally in the gut just LET THEM BE OKAY

-WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE DAY OF UNITY IS IN A WEEK. HELLO?!

-King finally got his letter

Me before this ep: Im mad at Hooty for eating the letter 

Me after this ep: actually Hooty was right to eat it

-hhhh family feels with the pirate

-huh i guess if there were more than 1 titan then there’d be more than one isle

-i wanna know how that portal works

-but wow titan hunters??? cool

-until the twist of the ep 

-When I heard the leader is named “Bill” I totally thought of the satan dorito from Gravity Falls... im not the only one right???

-KING IS A TITAN?!?!?! WH?!

-HE JUST WANTS TO PLAY CATCH I AM SOBBING

-Oh god if King is a titan the owl house might wanna expand bc he is going to end up very tall

-Wait if King is a titan WTF happened to his dad?!

-Also if the Collector kills titans does that mean it was trapped by a titan I NEED ANSWERS

-ALSO THAT ENDING WTF I AM AFRAID

---

Okay now for frog show

-Three armies was good but WHO GAVE POLLY WEAPONS?!

-Also am sad bc look what Andrias did... he made the three races of amphibia hate each other its just... sad... very sad...

-that bit where Anne was a known meditator back home was SO cute, Anne really out here using the power of friendship

-The team building exercises I liked the knot part where Sasha’s group did super well it was wholesome

-AND THEN ANNE GOING SUPER SAIYAN ON THE GROUPS FOR FIGHTING LMAOOOO

-The message being that “they cant forget the past but they could work together to build a better future” is great

-MOTHER OLM COMING IN TO DELIVER THE LATEST NEWS AHAHAH

-the second ep destroyed me from beginning to end that flashback start???

-Marcy feels... so many mf-ing marcy feels

-I did not expect Sasha to bring up the whole “Marcy was the one who brought them to Amphibia thing” but ig it’d be weird if they rugswept it, and her not even sure if they can repair their friendship???

-i hate it here

-Grime doing a battle playlist so cute

-he’s just vibing and i love the implications that Sasha shares her phone w/ her toad dad

-The part where Anne tells Sasha that forgiveness is hard but its worth it ALL THE FEELS. ig it shows that while their friendship isnt the same anymore that doesnt mean things cant be okay, I mean Anne and Sasha were besties the second half of the season

-OLIVIA  AND YUNANA HOLY COW

-oh they’re mind controlled should’ve seen this coming

-THAT DANCE BATTLE PART WAS GLORIOUS

-Oh no

-Oh no Darcy

-Oh no them doing that “you weren’t a good friend ever” to Sasha how dare u 

-Also ANDRIAS IN THIS EP

-THE PART WHERE HE ENTERS THE FIGHT

-AND THE BIT WHERE THEY LOST THAT IS SO SAD WTF

-im so glad Anne managed to buy some time that is some quick thinking.

-The “Shut up Andrias” with Darcy hahahah

-OH NO EARTH LOOK OUT OH NOES

-PLEASE TELL ME ANNE’S PARENTS ARE OKAY

-THAT CREDITS SCENE FUCKING BROKE ME OKAY?! THE PIANO MUSIC AT THE END WAS WHAT GOT ME AND NOW I AM IN TEARS AND I AM GOING TO EAT COOKIES AND LOOK AT MEMES TO TRY AND COPE WITH THESE EPISODES BC GOD THEY BROKE ME

[catxsnow]

BELIEVE IN YOU G.L.

Request: Could u do a gar imagine where gar loses control and kills someone and the reader is the only one to come to his defence when the rest of the titans start acting differently around him. I feel like gar needs a hype man bc he's constantly second guessing himself.

Warning: mentions of blood, death, fluff, gar being a lil cutie as he does

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say so I guess I hope you guys had a good day/will have a good day. 

Word count: 3.2k

If there was one person in this world that you would trust with you life, it was Gar Logan. Gar was the kindest, sweetest person you had ever met in you life. He never failed to make you smile and he continuously showed just how resourceful he could be. There was never a time that he would give up, especially when it came to protecting his friends.

Gar never failed to to make sure that his friends knew that he was there for them. Whether it was out on a mission, or within the tower, he was there. When Rachel needed comfort, he was there. When Jason needed someone to talk to, he was there. When you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there.

So when Gar lost control protecting you and his teammates, things changed. All Gar ever wanted to do was keep the people he cared about safe. He was still under the affects of what Cadmus had done to him, and keeping his tiger under control was far harder than it ever had been. He never wanted to hurt people, and yet he had no choice.

The mission Dick had you guys on was supposed to be an easy one. Something that just you and Gar could handle. Things had gone bad, fast. There were far more men there than expected and the two of you couldn't handle all of them on you own. A bullet passed through your suit and into your side. It was just a graze, but it was enough to slow you down.

Gar had no choice but to shift into the tiger if either of you wanted to make it out alive. While he had, he also didn't realize the lack of control that he had as well. When he saw one of the men try to grab you and shove you into their car, he had completely lost all sense of what was right and wrong.

The man that held you was mauled beyond repair. Those who hadn't already been taken down, were long gone. Gar, as the tiger, stood over the man. He hadn't looked at you, but the second his green fur was covered in blood, you weren't sure if you wanted him to notice you.

Finally, he shifted back into himself, realizing what he had done. Blood dripped down his chin, covering his neck and chest. His hands too were dripping with another man's blood. Gar finally looked over at you, petrified that all he would see in your eye is fear. You knew him well enough that this wasn't his fault.

The wound you had caused far too much blood loss and you were starting to sway on your feet. He needed to get you back to the tower, but he also feared of what the others would think.

He was right to worry too.

When you had arrived back at the tower, Dick and the others surrounded you with worry. They tended to your wound immediately, but as soon as you were patched up, all attention was on him. Gar had to explain that he had killed a man saving you.

Surprisingly, it was Dick that had taken it the worse. He had killed many people in his days as Robin, he had no right to yell at Gar for doing so. Not when he barely had control, Cadmus had done this to him, it wasn't like he wanted to do it. Yet, he was still yelled at for killing an innocent man. Even if he wasn't innocent at all.

When Dick stormed off in anger, Gar was the one that reminded by your side. You were passed out from being so weak, but Gar was just happy to see you alive. He grasped your hand in his and pressed them against his forehead.

Tears of shame and anger shed. He hated that Dick was mad at him for something he couldn't control. It wasn't like he had intentions on killing that man, it was the last thing that he wanted to do. He was already haunted by the others, he didn't need another on his list. Gar was furious at himself for losing control again.

But when he saw you getting taken, he couldn't stop himself. You were the person that was always on his side, he couldn't lose you. The tears got worse and worse until suddenly he was sobbing with dread. He had killed someone, that wasn't something that he could just take back.

The blood on his skin was dried up and he was acutely aware of just how disgusting he felt. Gar ripped his hand away from yours and bolted out of the room. He needed to shower, he needed to get rid of every trace that he had ever lost control.

It felt like hours that he was under the water, scrubbing away every drop of blood until his skin was raw. What would you think of him when you awoke? That was his biggest concern. Dick had already made his argument, and by the looks of it, Kori and Rachel were on his side. Jason would be too if he was still around.

Reluctantly, Gar turned the shower off and stepped out. A towel was wrapped around his waist as he sprawled out on his bed. The door to his room was open just ajar, but he couldn't get the motivation to get up and close it. That night wasn't suppose to have this turnout at all.

The creak of his door opening wider caused him to force his eyes shut, he didn't want to hear another lecture from Dick. "I heard you the first time, Dick."

"Didn't hear it from me." Gar's eyes popped open and he jumped up in his bed. You were standing in his door way, leaning against the frame. You skin looked pale from the blood loss and he could see your hands shaking.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Gar scolded. He joined you at your side a swung your arm over his shoulder as he walked you his bed to sit. You winced as you sat, which didn't go unnoticed by him. It should have been him that got that bullet, not you. Things would have turned out completely different.

"Had to see if you were okay," You shrugged. Gar sat beside you. He didn't notice that his hands were also shaking until he saw them next to yours. You reached out to grab it, stopping the both of you. "Whatever Dick told you, he's a hypocrite for saying it. He's hurt a lot more people than you ever have, and ever will."

"He's not wrong though," Gar sighed. "I lost control. What if I had gone after you next? What if there were more people there? Innocent people?"

"Sleep, Gar," you finally spoke after a long pause of silence. You couldn't deny that for a split second, you worried that you were next. Gar would never hurt you, but the people at Cadmus? That was a different story. Your hesitance spoke loud and clear to him: you feared him.

You stood up from the edge of the bed, pausing at his side to kiss the top of his head. Gar leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce that he surely wouldn't get again. How many more of these accidents would it take for him to be kicked off the team? How many more until no one trusted him again?

As badly as he wanted to avoid sleep and the nightmares that would follow, he couldn't stop the black void from taking over.

><

Gar noticed the difference with everyone in the tower by the next morning. Dick refused to acknowledge that he was even in the same room. Rachel avoided his gaze, she never thought he would be able to pull what he had. Even Kori had trouble sparking a conversation with him. You were the only one to send smiles his way.

The entire day, he moped around the tower, sticking to his room as much as possible. This treatment that everyone was giving him couldn't last wrong, right? He knew that he had made a mistake and he was doing his best to correct it. But how do you fix something that can't come back?

That night at dinner, you had missed the presence of Gar at the table. It had been quiet since Jason left, you didn't think it could get any worse - but without Gar, it had.

You found yourself tossing and turning for hours in bed that night. Your wound still flared up in pain at every movement and would for a while. There was no way that you were going to be able to sleep, and you were sure the boy in the next room couldn't either. That was how you found yourself knocking at his door at three in the morning.

You stood there for several moments, wondering if he was sleeping or even if you had awoken him. Just as you were about to leave, the door creaked open and the small amount of light coming from the hall lit Gar up. He was in his boxers, but eyes wide awake.

"Figured you couldn't sleep either," you told him of your prediction. Gar opened his door wider for you to step in.

"Why'd you come here?" Gar asked. He sat down on the edge of his bed. His sheets were all messed up and you knew that he had the same problem of not being able to stay still. You hadn’t talked to him much that day which led him to believe that you had the same judgement of him as your teammates. 

"Because last time I couldn't sleep you came to my room and slept next to me so I could," you reminded him. It had only been a few months ago, but it felt like years. Nightmares plagued your for weeks on end before Gar finally offered you some sort of solution. You never expected it to work, but you had slept like a baby that night.

Gar huffed out a breath of air as a half smile graced his face. It was the first sign of any happiness you had seen from him all day. Gar remembered that night vividly. He could remember your scream of horror as you woke up from you nightmare and running into your room to see if you were okay. It was a simple gesture of seeing if you wanted him to stay, but you had never been more grateful.

"Did you come here for me, or for you?" Gar asked, finally meeting your eye since you came in.

"Mutual benefit," you shrugged. "It's just an offer, I can leave if you want to be alone." Gar's heart rate rose at your counter-offer. He didn't want you to leave, not when you were the only person that seemed to still trust him.

"Stay," Gar decided. You nodded, crawling into his bed as he turned off the light by his bed. Small cracks of light from the city penetrated his blinds just enough so that you could see the outlines of his face. The two of you laid side by side and quietness over took once more. "Thank you."

"You mean more to me than you know, Gar."

><

You woke up to an empty bed and a sore side in the morning. Gar was gone and if it wasn't for you being in his room, there would have been no sign that you had even slept in the same bed.

The bandage that covered your side was shaded red and you knew that you must have popped a stitch sometime in the night. Whether it was before or after you got to Gar's room, it needed to be fixed. So, you left the warmth of Gar's bed as his scent lingered on your skin. You had no idea where he could have gone to, but you had a more pressing matter at the moment.

The door to the med bay was propped open as you stripped your side of the bandage. Blood covered your stitches and it was evident as to wear you had tore them. After washing it down, you braced yourself for the pain that would come with doing a quick stitch on yourself.

It didn't take long to fix what you had torn, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. Your eyes burned with tears as you held them back. As soon as you were done, you put a new bandage on and covered it back up with your shirt. No one needed to know that you had torn them, there was no need to cause worry.

"Where were you last night?"

"Fuck! Rachel! Don't do that," You scolded, hand over your heart to get it to stop racing from the surprise. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her feet propped up and a bowl of cereal in her hand. A coy smile was on her face, curious as to what you had been up to. "I was here."

"Your door was open all night and you weren't in your room," She continued on with a mouth full of food. "Did you just come from the med bay?"

"Yes," you rolled your eyes at her curiosity. "I had a few stitches rip, not a big deal." Maybe if you ignored her first question, she wouldn't push on with it. Thankfully, that was the case. Rachel didn't try to stop you again as you headed back to your room.

Although sleeping next to Gar once again had helped you sleep, exhaustion still wore you out. You worried about his connection with the others. Dick wasn't pleased about Gar's actions and you weren't sure if he would ever change his mind about it. Truth be told, you thought that he was just a little scared of Gar.

As kind-hearted as he was, he was powerful. Losing control like that, but against everyone would be devastating. Although you understood Dick's concern, he wasn't taking it well. 

You knew it too when you heard him and Kori talking about Gar.

Finally, when Dick's harsh words got to be too much, you had swung your door open with anger written on your face. He had no right to be saying that Gar was a lose screw to the team or that he was unsure if he belonged there anymore. Not after everything that he had done - what Kori had done too.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Your chest huffed up and down with frustration. "You're the team leader, Dick. You shouldn't be shunning Gar for his mistakes you should be helping him through them! Don't you think that he fucking regrets what he did? He didn't have control! You know what Cadmus did to him and you're not even considering the lasting effects!

"And you have no right to judge for accidentally killing someone when you've killed so many on purpose. If you wanna keep up at this self-proclaimed leader bullshit, then you better step up to the fucking plate because right now you're being an inconsiderate asshole.

"I would have died if Gar hadn't done anything. If you wanna kick him off this little merry band of heroes you have going on, then count me out too."

"(Y/N)!" Dick called after you as you walked away from all of them. You didn't turn back, but simply raised your middle finger at him. You might have been harsh to Dick about the truth of his actions, but he needed to hear it. Nothing frustrated you more than Dick not realizing how much of a hypocrite he was being.

The door to your room slammed with so much force that it rattled the walls. Dick clearly wasn't expecting an outburst from you - if anything he thought you would have been on his side. You were the one there, you saw just how vicious he could be when he didn't have control. Out of everyone there, you were the only to stay by his side.

Someone knocked at your door as you angrily paced around. "If you're here to talk, Dick, I don't want to hear it," You yelled. The door cracked open and you nearly slammed it back close until you saw the tuft of green hair peak through. "Gar," your voice softened. He slipped into your room and closed the door behind him.

Without having time to say anything, Gar had thrown himself into your arms with his head tucked into the crook of your neck. You didn't hesitate to hug him back. "Where were you this morning?" You quietly asked. He had heard everything you had said for him, but you didn't wish to talk about that at the moment.

"Woke up early, decided to go clear my head," Gar mumbled into your skin. Though he had slept better with you by his side, it still wasn't enough. But hearing you argue against Dick for him? That meant more to him than you could ever imagine. He never would be able to stand up for himself like that, and you had done it without thinking twice.

Gar woke up that morning with you in his arms. That hadn't happened the last time that you had slept with him, but it was a comforting change. The smile on your face as you slept warmed his heart like never before - you had never looked so peaceful before.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you. You could see the exhaustion written on his face from his previous nights. Gar didn't deserve this, he was the last person in this tower to deserve something like this to happen. Your hand reached up to his cheek, thumb swiping away the tears that he didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," Gar trembled. His eyes were red and his whole body seemed to shake with anxiety. "For having my back, I know it's not easy standing up to the people you care about."

"I care about you, Gar. It's easy to stand up for the people that you care about, no matter who it's against," You assured him. "This wasn't your fault, no matter what Dick says. I know you, I know in your heart that you would never mean to do something like that. I believe in you, more than you know."

"You mean more to me than you'll ever know," Gar repeated your words from the other night. It was the truth, you meant everything to him. He wished that he could express how much he truly cared for you - just as you wanted for him.

"Stay with me tonight?" You asked. Truth be told you didn't want to let Gar out of your sight. You didn't want Dick to try and lecture him again, and you certainly didn't want anyone to spoil this better mood you got him in. “Mutual benefit and all, right?” 

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."

[bqstqnbruin]

From the ground up

Alright y’all, a little switch up from the normally scheduled 10 things programming. But this is 8 pages of fluff that was requested based on the Dan + Shay song From the Ground Up.

This is also very inspired by my grandparents who knew each other for 85 years, were married for 66, had 4 children, 13 grandchildren, and currently 10 great grandchildren, so here’s also their story, but it fits with the song, so why not?

Hope you like it! ______________________

Five Years Old

The snow was falling, all the neighborhood boys were gathering in his front yard to start playing. You two had always been friends, meeting when you were three years old and in the same preschool class. You watched from your bedroom window as the boys started throwing snowballs at each other, something you loved doing with your younger brother. You put on all the winter clothing you can find, running downstairs to beg your mom to go across the street to the Jost’s house to play with the boys. 

“Have fun sweetie!” your mom calls once you finally wear her down and convince her that you’ll come in as soon as she calls you in for dinner.

Running as fast as your legs can carry you, more and more children aggregating in their yard, it was an all out war between the guys and girls, snowballs flying. The girls were getting pelted, you coming in and throwing snowballs left and right at any boy who stood in your way. One by one, they surrender, until you were the last one standing. You were the almighty five year old, the winner of the snowball fight. 

Someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around to see who it is only to be met with a snowball to the face. The boys around you were laughing as Tyson stood in front of you with a smirk. You wipe the snow off, staring at him for a minute while the girls stayed silent behind you. The snow was still following, a crown of water droplets forming on around his face as the melted snow clinged to his hair. It wasn’t a crush yet, because you didn’t know what that was. But it was something. 

The next thing you know, you’ve tackled him down in the snow, grabbing some off the ground and shoving it back in his face. The kids gather around the two of you, watching Tyson struggle to push you off of him, not succeeding until you hear your mom calling your name from across the street.

“Bye, Tyson!” you jump up, running back inside, leaving all the rest of the kids standing there, looking at Tyson’s wet hair, cold red face, and snow covered back while he watched you run and disappear behind your front door. 

 Seventeen Years Old

“What do you mean that’s when you knew?” you ask him, his laugh coming through the other end of the phone.

“Any girl who wasn’t afraid of beating up a guy who was bigger than her and actually does it well is the girl for me,” he says, referencing the snowball fight all those years ago. “You didn’t care what other guys thought of you: you got hit unfairly and I paid the consequence.”

“Well, yeah, you think I was going to let you get away with that? Also, we were the same size, you were pretty small then” you tease him. “It’s so corny that you fell in love with me when we were five years old.”

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic when it comes to you,” he says, “There’s no one who I would want to be with other than you. The distance thing doesn’t even seem like it’s going to be bad knowing that you’re the one I’m doing it with.”

You feel your insides flutter at his words, wishing that he was there with you now. You two had been together for as long as your moms let you date, spending every moment together that you could. He was your best friend first, your boyfriend second, your forever third. “How are you feeling about going to North Dakota in a few months?” you ask him.

He lets out a long, slightly shaky sigh, “Excited? Nervous?” he tells you, his voice going up at the end of each, “Terrified.” 

“It’s a new experience, that’s natural,” you try to reassure him. “You’ve never really done this sort of thing before.”

“Aren’t you nervous about going all the way to Massachusetts?” 

Part of you was, part of you wasn’t. You were scared to be away from Tyson, but part of you knew that you would always find your way back to each other, even with the distance between Chestnut Hill and Grand Forks. “About being that far away from home? No, not really.”

“What about being that far away from me?” you hear him squeak out on the other end, barely loud enough for you to really hear the pain that was in his voice.

“I’m not nervous,” you whisper, wishing you could be there with him to physically comfort him, “We’re going to be just fine.”

“How do you know?”

You take a deep breath, knowing that he was going to cry a little if he weren’t already. “We have been best friends since I beat you up that day. No matter what, you’re going to be my best friend. No matter what, I’m going to love you. I don’t care if you’re at UND and I’m at BC. You could go to Sweden and I could end up in New Zealand and I will still always love you.”

You hear him laugh a little, a sniffle followed immediately after. You didn’t need to see his face to know that his nose was red, the goofy grin of his trying to hide the fear that would surely be covering his face. 

“Hey, meet me by the gazebo in thirty minutes, ok?” he finally says after what felt like forever sitting there in silence.

“Sure,” you tell him, your phone beeping as a signal that he had hung up. You had no idea what he had planned, but you did as you were told, grabbing your jacket and making your way to meet Tyson. You get there to find him pacing back and forth under the moonlight that was shining down on him. “Hey, babe,” you say, him pulling you in tight for a kiss. 

Even though it was summer, the night time brought a cool breeze that sent a shiver through your body even with the jacket on. Tyson takes off his jacket, his favorite one with his name on his back, handing it to you, a smile on his face as he watched you pull it over your head. “So, what are we doing here?”

“This is going to sound crazy,” he starts, knowing that would concern you a little, “but hear me out first. You’re confident that we’ll stay together even being in North Dakota and Massachusetts, but I want to put in stone. Or, I guess, wood,” he says, gesturing to the gazebo. 

“What are you talking about?”

“People carve their initials in the wood here all the time. Why don’t we do that, too?” 

You smile at him, bending down next to him to watch him carve TJ + YFI/YLI enclosed in a crude heart, next to others that had looked like they had been there for years. “I wonder who all these people are?” you ask, carefully tracing your finger over one that said MR+MD. “I wonder if they’re all still together.”

“Don’t matter,” Tyson shrugs, looking at the way the moonlight dances off your skin, “We’re still together, and I have a feeling we’re going to last.” 

 Eighteen Years Old

Tyson had no idea you would be there. The College Hockey Showdown was that weekend at Madison Square Garden, the Boston College Eagles playing against the North Dakota Fighting Eagles. One of your roommates was from a small town in southern Connecticut, half an hour outside of the city, so you convinced her to go with you and spend the weekend down there instead of driving the four hours back to Chestnut Hill after the game. 

“So, which one is he?” Julie asks as the guys skated onto the ice. 

You were in the only section that led you to be surrounded by a sea of maroon and gold, feeling weirdly out of place not wearing team colors but the jacket Tyson gave you that night at the gazebo, which you ended up stealing from him, instead. “Number 17, the curly-haired one,” you point to him as he talks with one of his teammates, his helmet off, making it much easier to see his face.

Tyson had been telling you how nervous the team was about this game: Brock was injured, Trevor was two days shy of a 730 day scoring drought, and the team hadn’t beaten Boston College in 11 years. Not to mention, UND and BC were the two winningest college programs since the 06-07 season, UND having a slight edge over BC, putting that much more pressure on the guys to win this game to help make the gap a little wider. Tyson only rambled off stats about the other team when he was worried about a game against them. It was the first time you would ever be rooting against the college team you had come to love, and only because it involved the boy you love. 

“Does he know you’re here?” she asks you, trying to figure out why he wasn’t looking up in the stands for you. When you shake your head no, she picks you up out of your seat, annoying the other Boston College fans while the ones behind you got a good look at the four letters scrawled across your back. “Tyson!” she starts screaming, shaking you in hopes that you would join in with her.

You roll your eyes, knowing that he would be able to hear his name being called once you joined in. You were waiting to see the look on his face when he finally realized you were at the game, so you scream along with her. He hears his name, confused as to where it’s coming from. He looks around the arena, taking what felt like forever to find you. His jaw drops when he sees you, a smile on his face as he frantically waves back at you. He nudges his teammate next to him, pointing up to you. You couldn’t tell what he was saying, but from the joy that covered his face he was excited that you would get to see him play. 

The first period goes by, no scoring, not much of anything. The second period was starting, and the blank score on both sides was making you nervous. One of Tyson’s teammates passed him the puck, Tyson taking the opportunity to shoot and scoring his sixth goal of the year. The Garden went crazy, you and Julie the only two in the small section of Boston College fans joining most of the crowd, Tyson pointing right up to you when he skated to the bench. UND went on the power play, his teammate passing him the puck again. At the dot, he fired it past the BC goalie, putting his team up 2-0.

You were overjoyed by Tyson’s game, getting to see him be named first star of the game that UND won 4-3. You manage to sneak your way down to where the boys are, Tyson somehow convincing someone who worked there to let you in once you gave them your name. You saw Tyson giving an interview, the guys passing by him and patting him on the shoulders while he talked. You didn’t hear what they asked him, but you could help but admire him. “That’s part of hockey. There’s going to be momentum swings. We really had to bounce back, but that just shows our character in our team. We’re all warriors in there and I think we proved it tonight.”

The reporter leaves, Tyson turning towards him. He was sweaty, disgusting, smelly, and all of that combined wasn’t enough to stop you from running into his arms as he picked you up in his arms and kissed you for the first time since the day you left. “I can’t believe you’re here!” he practically screams when he puts you down, kissing you again. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” you tell him as he goes on about how excited he was that you were there. 

“I think you’re a good luck charm,” he says, leading you out of the way from some of the other guys walking around the hallway and plopping you down on the floor. “Hey, I’ve been thinking,” he starts, his voice shaking.

You knew he was nervous by the sound of his voice. You gently squeeze his hand, the smile on his face growing bigger, “Yeah?”

“When you graduate, wherever I’m playing, or even if I’m not, I wanna be living with you.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you after graduation?” you ask him, his sweaty curls moving with his head. “You think we’ll still be together in three and a half years?” 

He swallows, looking down at your hands intertwined, sitting on his thigh, “I can’t imagine my life any other way. It’s written on the ground of the gazebo.” 

 Twenty Two Years Old

You and Tyson were going home for the wedding of one of your cousins. You had been living together for a year now in Colorado, Tyson enjoying his fourth season in the league.

“Hey, can we make a quick pit stop before we head to the reception?” Tyson asks you when you get into the car. Your cousins, Lisa and Brendan get in the back seat, Tyson being deemed the designated driver for the night. You swear you see them smile at each other before looking back at the two of you.

“Yeah, sure, is that alright with you guys?” you ask them, making eye contact through the rearview mirror. They both nod, the four of you talking about the ceremony the entire way to wherever Tyson was taking you. His hands were shaking like he was nervous.

You pull into the park that was down the street from where you grew up. “Come on,” he says, rushing around the car to open the door for you and drag you through the grounds. Lisa and Brendan follow, keeping their distance as Tyson sprinted towards the gazebo. 

“We haven’t been here since that night before we left for college,” you observe, looking out over the water that surrounded part of the structure. “Do you think our initials are still here?” you ask him, turning around to find him already on the ground. 

“Yeah, right here,” he says, tracing his finger over your initials. He reaches up to pull you down next to him. “Did I ever tell you that my mom's best friend carved hers and her boyfriend's initials here, too?” 

“No, do you know which one’s they are?”

He points to the ones by your knees, the same ones you had admired the night Tyson carved you there, MR and MD. “Matthias and Marianne. They’re probably the happiest couple I’ve ever seen.” 

You stand back up, not wanting so much of your dress to be on the ground. You look for Lisa and Brendan, who are nowhere in sight. “Hey, where did-” you start, only to be cut off but what you saw in front of you. 

Tyson shifted himself to one knee, a small box in his hands with the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen. “I know it’s kind of shitty to be doing this the day of someone else's wedding, but this is the only time I knew we would be here where we first promised to be with each other forever,” he says. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, suddenly thankful that you had brought makeup with you in your bag for touch ups. “You told me that night that no matter where in the world we were, we would always be together. I want to be together forever. I want to grow old with you, have a family with you, be the father to your children that I never got and be the man your dad always wanted you to end up with. I want to hold you close, protect you, love you. I want to be your husband. Y/N, will you marry me?” he asks, the tears falling down your face. 

You shake your head yes, unable to let out more than a happy sob as he slips the ring on your finger, finally hearing Lisa and Brendan screaming as you take Tysons face in your hands and kiss him. 

 Twenty Four Years Old

You stood in the pink room, trying to rock your little girl to sleep. Tyson should be home at any minute from the road trip, but Viviana had been fussy the entire day. All you wanted was for her to go to sleep so you could go to sleep.

“I’m home,” you hear Tyson call from the doorway of your house, praying that he doesn’t come in yelling while you cradle your ten-month-old daughter in your arms. He appears in the doorway to her room, dropping his bag and tip-toeing up to you. He rubs your arms, kissing you on the cheek before pulling you close to him. He rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at Viviana. “Can you believe how big she’s gotten?” he whispers to you as she finally nods off to sleep. 

You lay her down in her crib, Tyson standing back and admiring how gentle you were with her. He hugs you from behind again, the two of you taking a moment to just look at your daughter. You lead him out of the room, closing her door carefully. “She is so beautiful,” you gush about your daughter even though she was the reason you were perpetually exhuasted.

Tyson hugs you, finally getting the chance to kiss you hello. “She takes after you. The room, though, is very pink.” You can’t help but laugh at the same observation he makes whenever he goes into her room. As soon as you found out you were having a girl, Tyson went overboard, buying every dress he could, little bows, cute socks, anything that looked like it was made for a girl, regardless of color or if it actually conformed to the gender construct, he bought, or convinced his teammates to buy for him so you couldn’t get mad at him for coming home with yet another Avalanche related baby item. 

  “I was nine months pregnant when you painted that, you know it’s your fault.” The two of you go to your own bedroom, you ready to crawl in bed even though it was the middle of the afternoon. “If she wakes up, can you take care of her?” you ask him, climbing under the sheets. 

“Yeah, but before you go to sleep, I think we need to talk.” You look at him, knowing that sentence typically comes with bad news, but Tyson’s face said otherwise. “I know Viviana isn’t even a year old yet, and I know we said we would wait until she was, but I think I’m ready to try for another kid now,” he says, “Only if you are, too, of course.” 

You look away from him, a picture of you and him looking down at Viviana right after she was born sitting in the frame on your bedside table. You knew Tyson wanted a big family, you wanted one with him. It was an easy decision: “Can we wait until after I get some sleep?” 

The smile on his face grows, excited that you were going to be trying for a bigger family. He plants a soft, sweet kiss on your head as you gently fall to sleep.

 Thirty Four Years Old

“Viviana Abigale, come down here!” you call to the birthday girl as your friends and family started showing up at your house. “Tyson, I think Cale and Gabe are here,” you say to your husband, hearing voices of his teammates carrying through your house indicating that Tyson had left the front door open for anyone to just walk in. 

You hear your kids running through the house, three sets of feet pounding against the floor as everyone started to show up with gifts and more food. 

It was Vivi’s tenth birthday, and Tyson insisted that you have a party to celebrate your oldest child turning double-digits. Part of you thought he just wanted to show off the house now that it was finally put back together after you had it redone, but he did more of the work in preparing. You were worried that would mean having a similar party with Alexander turned ten in two years, or when Jimmy did in four. Anything to have a party to celebrate your family, Tyson was the first to suggest you make it happen. 

Soon, your house and yard were filled with everyone you loved, laughing, eating, the kids playing. You watched as Alexander chased Jimmy with one of the hockey sticks Tyson’s mom had kept from when he was little. Tyson must have seen the anxious look on your face, “Don’t worry, he won’t do anything. Alexander is harmless.” You both laugh as he hands you a glass of wine, you swirling around in the glass instead of taking a sip. 

“Want to go inside?” you ask him, taking his hand. You set the class down on the counter, Tyson showing a look of confusion by the untouched glass. You lead him to the wall underneath the stairs, looking at all the pictures that were there. The latest school pictures of your three children, a picture of you and Tyson on your wedding day, a picture of the two of you that your mom took when you went to the school dance together when you were in your first year of high school. “God, do you remember that night?”

“I only remember what I was wearing because of that picture and that I wanted to dance only with you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you.

“You were fourteen, there’s no way that’s what you were thinking of,” you tease him. “You danced with me once that night and spent the rest of the night leaning against the wall with the rest of the boys.”

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you!” he argues back, his face turning red with the embarrassment he didn’t want.

You laugh, giving him a quick kiss, “I beat you up when we were five. Nothing you could do in front of me could be more embarrassing than that.” 

The two of you stand there for a little while longer, staring at the pictures that were on the wall of your family. “Hey, Tys?”

“Yeah?”

“When we first got married, how many kids did you think we would have?” 

He stops and thinks, knowing that he never explicitly told you, letting you decide how many you ultimately had. “I always wanted four.”

“Are you mad that we only have three?”

He looks at you. “Mad? Of course not.” How could he be mad that you gave him the three most beautiful children he could have asked for. They looked more like you than they did like him, but they definitely had his childish antics down to a t. 

“Would you be mad if we had a fourth?”

“Again, of course not,” he says, confused by what you were trying to say. You smile at him, it finally clicking. “You’re-?” he starts, unable to figure out how to express his joy with words. You nod, him pulling you in for a tight hug. “Holy shit!” he screams, “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“There are children, Tys!” you say, laughing as you cover his mouth. 

“We’re having another kid,” he says, his eyes lighting up. 

“We’re having another kid.”

 Fifty One Years Old

“Lucas!” you call to your youngest son, knowing he was the only other person in the house with you. You were trying to make dinner, one of Tyson’s favorite meals for his birthday.

“Yeah, Mom?” your sixteen year old says, not looking up from his phone as he walks into the kitchen.

Your hands were covered with raw meat, mixing everything up to prepare the stuffed burgers. “Can you run to the store and get me another onion?”

Lucas groans, in a typical teenage fashion. “Dad is already at the store getting you basil, can’t you just call him to get it?”

“No, because this is his phone,” you tell him, hitting the screen with your elbow so it doesn’t lock on you since that’s where the recipe is. “And it was parsley. The keys are by the door, there’s cash in my wallet, and yes I expect the receipt and know how much I had to start with,” you say to him.

He rolls his eyes at you, leaving for the store anyway. Lucas drives to the store, muttering to himself that you would send him out when Dad was already there. He laughs as he pulls in next to Dad’s car, knowing that he was bound to run into him while he was there. He wanders through the store, not looking for the onion in the slightest in hopes to find his father and tell him to get it so he can get home and go back to the game he was on with his friends. 

Lucas finds Tyson in the spice aisle, standing there with two small bottles in his hands, one parsley, one basil. “She wanted parsley,” he says, startling his dad. 

“I couldn’t remember what she said, so thank god you came,” he says, putting the basil back. “What did she send you to get?”

“An onion.” The two of them walk through the store, back to the produce that Lucas had already passed in hopes of getting out of there faster. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, bud?” he asks, examining the pile of onions as he tried to figure out which one would be the one his wife would pick. 

“Mom has already sent you here four times this week, and now me twice. Why do you put up with it?” he asks, clearly annoyed.

Tyson laughs, picking up one of the onions and heading to check out. “I would do anything for her, no matter how ridiculous or how many times she asks me to do it.” He looks at his youngest son, the only one who looked more like him than you, “One day, hopefully, you’re going to find someone who you love more than anything on this Earth, and you would do anything in the world to make sure that they stay happy. This is part of what keeps your mother happy, so how could I not do it?”

 Eighty Eight Years Old

You look around from the head table, Tyson’s hand in yours as your entire family has overtaken the restaurant. Viviana and her husband had picked you up at your house, telling you that she was taking out to her home for an anniversary dinner. You were instead taken to your favorite restaurant, greeted but your children, your grandchildren, your brother and his family, Kacey and her family, everyone you cared about.

You sit there, listening to your children and some of your grandchildren talk about what it means to be in love. “Dad would drop everything if Mom asked him to do something. There was nothing too ridiculous that she could ask of him.”

“Growing up, it was the stolen looks, Dad looking at Mom with love filling his eyes and her not noticing, or Mom doing the same to Dad, neither of them ever looking at the same time.”

“Look around at everyone here: love between two people creates love between more. We wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.” 

Sixty five years.

Four children.

Thirteen grandchildren.

Currently five great grandchildren, two more on the way in a few months.

The perfect life, the perfect husband. 

[harrypotterximagines]

Hey! I wanted to ask if you do Oliver Wood! If you do, could you please do an angst fix when female! Reader gets bullied a lot by the quidditch team in her house (She's not Gryffindor) bc of Oliver, and she remains silent about it... And even though it's more than obvious that she's having a bad time, Oliver doesn't notice bc he's so focused on quidditch, that until one of her friends snaps at him! Fluffy ending pls!

A/N: I love this request so much!! Thanks for submitting! Please check out my Etsy shop for a personalized Harry Potter painting! CLICK HERE TO VIEW MY ETSY

__________________________________________________

“You’re going to choke on that pumpkin juice,” You said, looking down at Oliver.

Oliver covered his mouth with the crook of his elbow, big brown wide eyes staring up at you. He took a second to gulp before swooshing his arm down to his side, smiling up at you.

“Come to wish me luck on our match in a couple days?” He teased.

You jokingly rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just the opposite, actually. You already know us Ravenclaws are going to whoop Gryffindor’s butt on the field.”

A petite girl with strawberry blonde hair that stopped at her neck giggled. You looked over at cheery laugh, your smile widening. 

“You know us Gryffindors are undefeated,” Samantha spoke up. 

You pouted your bottom lip at the girl, wishing that you were playing on the same time as her. Samantha has been one of your best friends since you arrived at Hogwarts. 

“That is true,” You pointed out. “But not a fact.”

Oliver scrunched his nose up at you, his contorting to confusion. “Wait, what does that mean?”

Samantha scoffed, instructing Oliver to return his focus back on his breakfast to fuel up for practice later today. 

You waved goodbye at your friends, your mood dropping as you exited the Great Hall. The overwhelming feeling of joy and happiness that electrified your body was quickly evacuating. Your body forced its way to the Quidditch pitch, cold air bitterly nipping at your nose. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your room and sleep the day away. Although you adore Quidditch and could possibly see yourself becoming pro. 

The dull gray sky and the dried patches of grass made the Ravenclaw team sweaters look blander than usual. Your team was lightly joking around, small chatter over-talking the whistling of the wind until you arrived.

“You’re going to get the ball into the hoop this time?” Your team captain, Randolph spoke up. 

You sucked in a breath and took the broom your teammate extended out for you, the group quickly flying off into the sky.

The one Hogwarts house stereotype that you believed to be accurate was that all Ravenclaws were competitive. You watched as your teammates aggressively chucked quaffles, dodged bludger bats, and squinted through the mist to see that sparkling golden ball. 

You forced yourself to get into the rowdiness, desperate to prove to your teammates that you belonged on the team. You understand that they expected a lot out of you, but sometimes it felt like you needed to sacrifice a limb to get their approval. You would leave Quidditch practices with bloody lips or bruised arms, overexerting your body to get the smallest of smiles from your captain.

You’ve only been on the team for about two years now, but even though you’re considered the “newbie” your skills in the sport were anything but. However, even though you never missed a single shot and tactfully watched out for any obstacles that may come your way, your captain kept barking at you.

You were ready to give up mid-practice. Either you were going to jump off your broom, purposefully crash into the ground, or bark at your captain back. All options seemed desirable and you were debating which one you were going to take up. The fantasy of ditching your team and going back to your friends in the Great Hall dampened your mood even more. The realization that most of your friends, who were Gryffindors, were going to be rolling onto the pitch soon. 

Just when you were going to bring your focus back onto the match, an obnoxiously loud clapping noise echoed into your ears. Staring right at you was Randolph, looking extremely pissed. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. His face was blazing, rosy red cheeks a physical symbol for his anger. 

“Where the hell is your head at!?” He snapped, eyes wild. 

“I swear, for these past previous practices all you’ve been doing is looking like a fool floating in mid-air! Do you just take all your energy and impress me for the first half of the match to only self-destruct and spiral!? Do you not understand that I need your focus to be on the team from the moment you step onto the pitch till you reach those locker rooms at the end?”

You stared at your captain, jaw unhinged. If you all weren’t so high up, flies would be nesting into your gaped mouth. You licked your dry lips, unsure of what to say. Your captain stared at you for a minute longer, expecting an explanation, and when not a peep left your lips he shook his head, flying away.

You silently cursed at yourself, biting back tears. There was no point in crying. Your team would make it harder on you anyways. For the rest of the match, you tried your best to keep up with everyone else. However, it seemed that the team sensed your frustration, tension thickening the skies. 

When the familiar whistle was called to end practice, you were first to fly straight towards the ground. Once you dismounted your broom, a familiar shout called your name.

Oliver and Samantha waved at you, coming up and tackling you with a big hug. You stiffened, the unexpected love and appreciation wanting to make you breakdown on the spot. 

Samantha quickly noticed your mood, examine your face whereas Oliver chirped on about how well you did up in the air. You clenched your jaw, softly thanking Oliver for his kind words.

“Are you okay?” Samantha whispered, taking a step back. 

A few other Gryffindor team members came to your side, congratulating you on a successful practice from their point of view. Oliver began to preach his daily sermon about the importance of stability and control in the air, claiming that you were one of the few people who knew how to incorporate the gravitational pull versus the body’s balance when flying. He seemed so lost in his own mind space that when Randolph came over to yell at you once more, he didn’t notice.

“You need to do better. Or else we’re going to have no choice but kick you off the team,” Your captain spoke up. 

Samantha stared shockingly at your team captain, surprised by the words he was spilling out. Her fists balled, ready to fight in your name when you held her back.

“Seriously. Get your head in the damn game,” Randolph scoffed, leaving you speechless as he walked off.

“Are you serious?” Samantha spoke up once he was out of earshot. “Is he always like this or just to you?”

You blinked a couple times, trying to dry your eyes. You shook your head, not wanting to get into it. You gave Samantha a very obvious fake smile, exclaiming that you were okay and needed to hit the showers.

“No, this isn’t okay!” Samantha bursted out, eyes wide and upset.

Oliver stopped chatting, looking over at Samantha confused. 

“What do you mean? I thought we had our game plan down pact since last week-”

“Shut up, Oliver!” Samantha hissed, rage filling her body.

“I’m talking about the way how Randolph is treating our friend!”

A look of defeat washed your features and it seemed that Oliver noticed. He took a step closer to you, lifting your sunken chin with his finger, bringing your eyes to his own.

“What is he doing to you and I will speak to him,” He said in a low yet demanding voice. His cheery attitude was gone and pure concentration and tension stiffened his features.

“Oliver-”

“No, tell me.” He said, cutting you off. “Please.”

You licked your lips and began to explain the past couple of weeks. You could see in both Samantha and Oliver’s faces that they knew the way you were being treated wasn’t right. Once you were done speaking without any interruption, Oliver instructed Samantha to start practice without him and that he’ll be back soon. Samantha nodded and gathered the team, taking off. You looked up at Oliver like he was nuts, not understanding why he wasn’t up in the air with the rest of his crew.

“We’re going to bring this to Madam Hooch, okay?”

“Oliver, I can’t do that. I can’t let my team think I’m being a tattle-tale.”

Oliver scoffed, bringing your body close to his. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You deserve to have your voice heard. I’m not going to stand here and allow you to take the abuse. You’re a brilliant player and it’s time that you stop forcing yourself in the shadows.”

You released a shaky sigh at Oliver’s words of encouragement, hugging him tightly back. Once he unglued himself to you, he firmly held your arms, kissing your forehead.

“We’re in this together.”

[elliewritessometimes]

IT’S @mattieswheelers BIRTHDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

beCAUSE of this, myself and @notsomightymightytiger decided to steal tea leaf’s time travelling mattie au and create a whole entire fic with their ideas and also a design that @ari-is-anxious did a while back!! hope you enjoy aaaaaaa <3333 aLSO stabbies try and spot as many starboard references as you can heheheh 

this can be read on ao3 here if you prefer the format :)

tw: swearing, murder (it’s minor and resolved tho jsgh), religion (nicco my love read with care), blood, i really hope i haven’t missed anything please do let me know if i missed anything

-

Mattie had always been able to time travel. For as long as she could remember, her walk-in wardrobe had been lined with silver metal and held no clothes at all. As a child, this made it all the more exciting, though as she grew older and actually started to want to own clothes, it became a little inconvenient. She supposed all great inventions came with some kind of sacrifice.

Her uncle had made the time machine as a gift when Mattie was born. Her parents, like any basic adults, assumed the wardrobe-sized box was simply a toy and had taken no interest in it. Mattie, from the age of about three when her curiosity had really set in, was the one who discovered that the machine was in fact a working portal and not just a children’s toy. Since then, she had been happily travelling time and space during the darkest hours of night.

(You may have entirely valid concerns about a three year old having full access to time travel - luckily, not just for Mattie’s safety but also that of the entire human race, her uncle had set what were effectively child locks on a lot of the controls. These were diminished the day that Mattie turned thirteen. Uncle Calvin had always been a little weird, but he certainly wasn’t heartless.)

-

Usually, Mattie’s time travel didn’t affect her life. Sure, it made for some pretty awkward conversations as Mattie spurted some knowledge which could never have been explained through a textbook, but those could often be blamed on watching too much Horrible Histories as a child (“Mattie, I swear to God, you’re so bageling British, and yet you’ve never been there, I don’t understand.” “Horrible Histories is a masterpiece! You’re just jealous that you’re too American to have seen it.” “Actual asshole of a child.” “Farrah-!”).

It was going well until Mattie’s freshman year at Giles Corey. And then three of her fellow highschoolers were murdered. And suddenly Mattie had a way to prevent that from happening.

In some stroke of luck, she passed out at the sleepover and didn’t find out about the murders until she was sitting in the back of a cop car, driving to her house to pick up her things. She remembered thinking how weird it was that she wasn’t being taken straight to the station, but brushed that away in favour of ‘going into her wardrobe to change out of her bloody clothes’.

The time machine was cold like it always was and that forced her out of her muddled state quickly enough. She thought back to the victims. Chess. Farrah. Clark. Snapping on her goggles, she pressed a button, whirled backwards through time and space, and appeared at the gate to Riley’s neighbour’s house.

She really wished that she had actually changed her outfit - the damp blood turned cold with the breeze and sent shivers up her spine. The smell perhaps or just her sudden appearance startled the neighbour’s dogs into a frenzy. A figure, Chess, unharmed and merely confused instead of terrified, stood up from Riley’s bench, calling into the darkness. Mattie’s breath caught in her throat. The second figure, knife glinting in the dim streetlight, slipped out of the back door. Their red hair shone in the reflection of the knife with a sick kind of beauty.

Mattie could have stopped them there, taken the knife from the assailant’s grasp, prevented the tragedy of the evening. But she didn’t. She just watched.

Three minutes later, after arriving back in her present time and pressing yet another button on the wall of her closet, she watched the same scene unfold in the bathroom with a much younger victim. Twenty minutes after that, the third attack. This one was different though, an accident.

Still a little desperate and overly conscious of the police officer standing guard outside of her bedroom, she reappeared in her wardrobe, putting on a jumper before turning back time a little further. She appeared in a gymnastics centre as a girl around Mattie’s age did wolf turns on a beam. A coach entered the scene from the sidelines as the girl stopped spinning, her distinctive plait falling still against her back. Something in Mattie ached at the sight of Chess so lively and innocent, willing to give up her life for her dream of succeeding in her sport. As the two wandered into a side room, picking up water with a smile, Mattie edged forwards, collecting soft gym mats as she went. Within minutes, the area surrounding the beam had been double layered with cushioning, and Mattie could only pray that her plan would work. She’d seen enough YouTube videos to know what happened next.

Chess emerged again with her coach, hopping back up onto the beam with practiced ease. Again, Mattie was forced to just watch as she went down into her wolf turn, then rose up, did a split leap across at least half of the beam, and jumped into a twist to land on the floor. It was a messy landing, the gymnast’s ankle caving in on itself, knee twisting unnaturally in the air, before coming down hard onto her side. But, unlike in the previous videos, there wasn’t a resounding crack, only a weak cry of pain as Chess stumbled back to her feet.

Mattie grinned despite herself as snippets of conversation drifted her way.

“-not broken, don’t worry-”

“The Olympics seem out of the picture…”

“Get her a drink to numb the pain! Yes, limeade’s perfect-!”

Mattie arrived in her room again with a whole plethora of new information just inserted into her mind like it had been there all along. There was no longer and never had been a police officer outside her door. Her shirt was clean, her head undamaged. Chess didn’t go to the Olympics, but still did gymnastics in her spare time as her knee made a full and quick recovery. Farrah wasn’t dropped. Riley, in some weird twist of fate, went to the same therapist as Mattie. Life was… good for the Giles Corey Tigers.

Across town, the sleepover was still going ahead as normal. From what weird memories she just gained, Mattie knew that the team was at a rocky patch, their personalities still clashing in any iteration of the evening. But, with some relief, she knew that it would never in this timeline be bad enough for murder to even be considered as an answer. Her phone buzzed. The lies came easily as she covered up her mysterious disappearance from the sleepover she should currently be at.

Reese (school): Where are you???

Mattieeeee: I went home :( not feeling good

Reese (school): :((( that sucks

Mattieeeee: Ikr. I think it was the ice cream.

Reese (school): I told the others

Reese (school): They all say get well soon apart from Kate and Cairo who actually agreed on something for once haha

Mattieeeee: What did they say skjghdjh

Reese (school): “Tolerate the lactose, Wheeler.”

-

In her short-but-actually-quite-long-given-all-the-time-travel life, Mattie had witnessed a number of key historic events (and had caused about 85% by some small accident, but that’s a story for another time). The one which ended up unveiling her secret to someone in her actual life occurred overnight one February. Or maybe July. Depends. Time is weird.

She stepped into a small room, luckily through the doorway and not awkwardly through the window, as done many times before. A man sat hunched over a desk by the window, dressed in brown and using a pen-but-not-really-a-pen to craft a page of writing. From Mattie’s extensive historical knowledge, it could have been anywhere from 1000 BC to the 16th century.

“Hello, excuse me,” she began, “But I’m a little lost.”

The man startled, his not-really-pen skidding across the page and leaving a trail of thick ink in its wake as he blinked at her in the doorway. “Who are you?” He seemed perplexed as to how a young girl was standing there, in the opening to his room, in clothing not of any time now or before.

Something that Mattie had realised after travelling not only to different times, but also to a vast number of different settings around the world, was that somehow, she was never stumped by a language barrier. Instead she was always able to fluently converse with those she met in what appeared to her as American English. It was really weird; she tried not to think about it too much or it made her head hurt. She’d also learnt that it was best not to explain her full situation to her companions, becoming accustomed to pulling the classic ‘I’m not here, you’re just dreaming’ excuse. So that was exactly the tactic she applied here. “A dream figure. You don’t need to be afraid.”

The man narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the paper and then back up to Mattie’s face. “That’s a good line.” He scribbled her words down onto a scrap piece of papyrus. “Maybe I can use that later.”

Mattie grinned, sensing her chance to fuck up history just a little bit. “What are you writing?”

“How the world came to be,” the man explained. “God.”

“Ah, of course. The Bible, huh?”

“Pardon?” The scribe locked eyes with Mattie for the first time, confusion etched clearly on his face. She shook her head in response, having learnt that it was hopeless trying to explain events of the future to people who could never even begin to imagine the future that she came from. Seemingly satisfied, the man continued. “As the vision you are, I wonder if you’ve been sent to answer my queries.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“I’m struggling for a name. Not for the book itself, but just for this chapter.”

Mattie smiled as wisely as she could. “What do you have so far?”

“‘Generational Crisis’. The chapter describes how our world came to be - the creation of natural elements, the first humans, the beginnings of emotion. ‘Generational’ as it shall be carried on for generations, and ‘crisis’ as it’s a huge event, a crisis for the higher powers.”

Mattie choked. Her mind imagined a world where the entry chapter to the Bible was named as so, and it was a world of chaos and highly differing language choices. “That is very wise, sir. I have one suggestion: how about shortening it? Make it snappier, more catchy. I’m thinking…” She paused, feigning deep thought, “‘Genesis.’”

The man gasped, scrawling her word down at the top of the papyrus. “Genius! Thank you, child. I should write your name in my finished book, to show my gratitude for your kindness.”

“Mattie, sir, Mattie Wheeler. It’s been lovely to meet you and see your studies.” Over the centuries, Mattie had learnt to leave those she met with some kind of reassurance as the humane aspect of her hobby. “Before I go, I may be a dream spirit, but I can assure you that the work you have done right now shall be greatly appreciated for thousands of years to come.”

“You really are a wonder, perhaps a child sent from the power above.”

Unthinking, she snorted, replying, “Oh, boy, you are not ready to hear about Jesus.”

“Jesus? You mean my sister’s husband? I do hear some curious rumours about the man…”

Mattie hid her laugh behind a hand. Of course, this was hundreds of years before Jesus Christ came to be thought of. “I know, right? Jesus? More like JeSUS.” The scribe didn’t reply, mind clearly tired of its confusion and instead turning back to something it knew well. He picked up his writing patterns again. Mattie turned away, back to the doorway. “I will leave you to your writing again. Sleep well.” Leaving a small vial of dissolved sleeping pills on the desk, she stepped out of the door.

-

The only class that Mattie knew she would see Eva in was Religion. They didn’t actually share the class, but Mattie’s Religion teacher was Eva’s form tutor and the older girl often used the classroom as a quieter study area for her free period. Not that Mattie would call a class of thirty sophomores particularly peaceful, but apparently she hadn’t heard the noise of the senior study area, you genuinely don’t understand, last week Jacob Thomas tried to make toast using the sun on a desk and then, bam, the entire of senior year are creating chants about sun bread, it was so weird, Mattie, I transferred to a school of crackheads.

After her travel to the 7th century AD, Mattie sparked a sudden interest in her Religion classes. Eva, being the older sister that she was, watched closely as the sophomore stayed behind after class to search the Bible for something in particular.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Nothing!” Mattie didn’t look up from fervently turning the pages.

“Well, that’s a fucking lie.” Eva perched on the side of a desk, sliding across to snatch the book out of the younger girl’s hands. “Why the hell are you looking at what is essentially the movie credits for the Bible???”

Eva watched as Mattie bit her lip, eyes darting around the empty classroom. She thought for a long moment, visibly debating points in her head, before leaning over the top of the book to run her finger down a list of names. About a third of the way down the page, she stopped. Eva’s eyes followed her finger as it drew a circle around a certain name. Matte Wheyler  

“See. I was looking for that.”

Eva didn’t say anything for a while. Mattie waited with baited breath as Eva’s brain tried to make sense of what they saw. “Mattie Wheeler, what the bagel.” It didn’t bother to even be a question.

“It’s a really long story.” Mattie slumped onto the desk as well. “Hey, did you know that ‘Genesis’ would have originally been called ‘Generational Crisis’ if it wasn’t for me?”

After a glance at both of their timetables, they decided that their next lessons (biology and latin respectively) were worth missing. Instead, they stayed seated on a desk in the Religion classroom, as Mattie explained in detail how her name came to be in the Bible. It was refreshing to finally spill her secret after fifteen years of complete silence, and Mattie wondered vaguely in the back of her mind if one day Eva might be able to share in her time travelling adventures. That might take a little more explaining though, because Eva sure did have a lot of questions.

“So, you don’t change anything?”

“Not anything major. Like, I can’t stop Hitler or anything, that would change too big an event. Little things, however, like names and stuff, it’s fun to mess around with. Ever wondered why the Italian city, Pisa, has its name? I delivered pizza to the guys who were kind of like the government at the time of its naming. Hence, the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

Eva cackled. “Wait, what?! God, dude, that’s nuts. What the fuck.”

“What can I say, all I really want in life is a little bit of chaos and also mozzarella sticks.”

-

Mattieeeee sent a photo.

evanescence: is that??? abraham lincoln????

Mattieeeee: Abraham Lincoln was an otter.

evanescence: how so?

Mattieeeee: Point one: look at him.

Mattieeeee: Point two: no seriously. Look at him.

evanescence: oh my god

evanescence: i cannot believe you have a literal selfie with abraham lincoln that’s fucking wild

Mattieeeee: Perks of the job :D

evanescence: literally hire me i want a selfie with cleopatra

-

farrah o’satanic ritual: yall i got out of the shower like an hour ago and i still haven’t changed

Imposter: What can I say, bath robes are in fashion rn

farrah o’satanic ritual: ive told you before clark stop pretending you know how to dress

Mattieeeee: Farrah did you not die in the shower?

katherine: ????mattie???????

farrah o’satanic ritual: no?? i didn’t

SmileyRiley: dang it

katherine: riLEY-

caicrow: riley i thought we’d moved on from murder

Imposter: Plot twist: Mattie was the murderer all along

katherine: CLARK-

Mattieeeee: oops-

-

It wasn't meant to happen, she swore up and down it was a mistake. A true and honest accident. And it kinda was? I mean Mattie hadn’t intended for the scaffolding on the new tower being constructed in Pisa to wobble, she’d already fucked up Pisa once in her career, but… Well, that's what she got for letting loose Giles and Corey (her occasional time travelling companions, who also happened to be cats) in the middle of a Italian city in 1252. She could have sworn the catnip was safely concealed in one of the pockets inside her jacket (which was filled with all sorts of trinkets from her travels in the space-time continuum), yet somehow the two had still gotten into it. She guessed that's what she got for not hydrating-feel-greating and eating-to-defeating.

An old citizen eyed her suspiciously, taking in her struggle with the two cats. Or maybe she was just more focused on Mattie’s goggles - she doubted anyone in 13th century Pisa had seen such a bold fashion statement before. The tower continued to lean in the background.

Finally, Giles and Corey settled down, each in a pocket of her trench coat. Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, which only got halfway out of her before she was sucking it back in as the old lady from across the street began to approach her.

“Young lady.”

Mattie smiled sheepishly. “Hello, ma’am. Is everything alright?”

The lady looked mildly amused. “I couldn’t help but notice your two cats going mysteriously close to the tower before it started collapsing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. My cats are very well behaved.” Giles gave a resounding yelp at exactly the wrong time. A hiss from Corey echoed from the opposite pocket.

“Well,” the lady grinned, “If that’s the case, why don’t you leave the animals with me? You seem fairly preoccupied with the tower - perhaps you can try and assist its reconstruction?” She held out a hand.

Mattie thought for a moment and then handed across the two cats. “Thank you ever so much, ma’am. I’ll try and be quick.” The woman nodded and Mattie sped across the square to the drastically swaying tower.

When she arrived back at the woman’s table, there was a second lady in animated conversation with her. As Mattie approached, she stood up to take her leave, pressing a kiss to the first lady’s hair as she left. Something was definitely fruity there.

“All fixed!”

“I’m glad.” The woman nudged the cats back to their owner, looking intensely over Mattie’s shoulder to the stabilised tower. “It certainly looks sturdier.”

“I should hope so.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, staring pointedly at an area on the structure, “I think about crabs.”

“Oh?” Mattie tilted her head. “Do you?”

“Yes. And often when I think about crabs, I think that they shouldn’t be in Pisa, and they most definitely should not be crawling over the tower.”

Mattie gasped and followed her gaze, muttering curses under her breath. “I didn’t realise I’d brought a whole crab with me! I thought I’d taken the sea life off the rocks!”

The woman chuckled. “You seem to be a strange character. Child, where on Earth did you find not only rocks large enough to support a tower, but also a live crab in Pisa?”

Accepting her fate, Mattie decided to tell the truth. “They’re from Egypt.” At the woman’s questioning look, she expanded, “I’m a traveller of sorts.”

“Oh. Well, child, you’re a gift of a traveller. Brightened my day. Italy these days is far too serious. Maybe we should put more crabs on the leaning tower, huh?”

Tucking her cats back into their respective pockets, Mattie allowed herself to laugh. “Maybe we should.” With a nod and a smile, she wandered off, eagerly awaiting her portal.

-

“Why were you in Egypt anyway?” Eva asked as Mattie recounted yet another of her time-travel-gone-wrong experiences.

“Library of Alexandria.”

“Oh, yeah, because that explains so much.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “It was 48 BC, Caesar was burning shit, this random Roman dude set fire to the library.” She pulled a book out of her backpack. “I saved this and stashed away a few of the slabs of rock. And apparently a crab.”

Eva took the book in awe. “Jesus Christ… This thing is, like, thousands of years old…”

“I know, right? Weird.” She watched as Eva flicked through the pages, tracing her finger over certain words or illustrations. “But it was such a beautiful library, I couldn’t let it just burn. So, I retaliated. Burnt the house of the soldier who set the original flame.”

“Mattie!”

She shrugged. “Setting someone’s house on fire is a survival skill.”

“Oh my God.”

“I would have done something more dramatic, but I had to get home. I had a cake which would need to come out of the oven.”

Eva laughed, the sound echoing around the empty classroom. They were skiving class again, this time PE, the one class they had which coincidentally fell at the same time for both year groups. “How are you so normal in school, but so badass when you time travel?”

“I dunno. All I can say is that cake and spite are my only motivators.”

“You’re like a superhero. ‘Time Travelling Mattie: The Only One Who Can Lead A Dual Life Successfully’!!!”

Mattie blushed, shrugging. She definitely needed to take Eva with her one day. A superhero duo. “Okay, that name needs some work. How about: ‘Sanchez And Wheeler, The Ultimate Time Travelling Duo’?”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

Eva nodded, shaking her hand like they were signing a business contract. “Yeah.”

[poutybinz]

We got the fluff, we got the smut, now let's get the ANGST 🙂🙂 how will the boys react to their s/o dumping them hahahaha sorry I live for angst

me too lowkey muahaha

yeonjun

“break up? what do you mean break up?”

you would literally see the joy drain from his face like

his entire world just came crashing down around him and all he wants to know is why

and even if you give him an answer, it’s not gonna make any sense to him

nothings gonna make sense, why can’t you both just work it out?

he’s frustrated and devastated and he doesn’t know who to blame and how to process this

what hurts the most about yeonjun is that he’s definitely the type to hug you and not let go in this situation

yeonjun’s lowkey toxic trait is thinking that sex can fix everything (post breakup sex is definitely a thing and it’s painful)

he attaches to you, he’s kissing at your neck and you have to push him away because that’s the last thing either of you need

but he just clings to you, hugging you tightly with his head buried in the crook of your neck

and that’s when he starts crying, when the realization that it’s really over starts to hit

he wants to kiss you, he wants to hug you

he wants you to tell him this is some stupid joke so he can order food and you can have your movie nights like you always do

the denial stage lasts really long tho, there are some days he wakes up and forgets that you’re broken up and he calls you

and when you either don’t answer or you answer and you have to remind him it’s that same heartbreak all over again

he really cannot let you go, no matter how hard he tries he just can’t

soobin

one half of the crybabies

bc he will cry and he will cry a lot

first, it’s shock. he’s stunned, and then he’s confused.

then when you explain yourself he’s filled with overwhelming disappointment because he didn’t do right by you

maybe he got comfortable and didn’t think about it enough

but the simple fact that you feel like you aren’t loved, that you aren’t the center of his universe is enough to break him completely

he doesn’t blame you at all, he blames himself and that hurts you because you don’t want him to think he wasn’t an amazing boyfriend

sometimes things just don’t work out the way you want them to

it’s a little toxic but he hates himself dearly for letting you go. for not loving you the way he should have. he hates himself a lot

thing is though, soobin wont argue with you.

as much as he loves you and he doesn’t want you to leave him, if you feel unhappy he’s not gonna keep you

so there would be a moment where maybe he’d ask for one last hug and kiss

and in that moment in each other’s embrace, both of you would burst into tears

and all soobin can do is whisper “i love you” over and over again because of course he does

he always will, no matter what

beomgyu

similar to yeonjun, there’s a lot of disbelief

“what are you talking about? you’re joking, right?”

he kind of skips over the sadness bit (or at least it comes later) and he goes straight into anger

he’s so devastated and so heartbroken he just lashes out

“why did you tell me all those things if they weren’t true?! why would you lie to me for all of this time if you were going to leave?!”

he’s irrational at this point and no matter how many times you try to explain that you hadn’t had some sort of plan to get him attached to you and then leave

and that sometimes things just don’t work out

it’s going through one ear and out the other, he might even start throwing things and it might turn into an argument

but once all of the anger wears off he’s left with sadness

he just plops onto the floor or the couch or wherever and he just cries and cries

he doesn’t at first but he lets you come sit and cry with him

you have a moment where you can talk things out, you can try to explain to him where you’re coming from

and that you’ll always have love for him

he understands but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still gonna miss you

he hates watching you leave though he’s trying to be strong but it just hurts too much

taehyun

the worst thing about this would be the complete lack of emotion

because if there’s anything taehyun’s good at, it’s composing himself. he can put on a front if he really wants to.

so when you say “i think we should break up”, he doesn’t respond at all

he just stares blankly at you, but even then you can tell he’s panicking. you can almost see the spurs turning in his head

but instead he just stares at you and nods slowly. he doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t push the subject any further.

but he’s hurting inside. he’s screaming and he’s begging, his hands are balled into fists and he’s very clearly holding back a lot

and you know him so you call him out on it, you’re trying to get him to open up because you don’t wanna end this on bad terms

he just shakes his head, though. likely to walk away from you completely because he’s not gonna cry in front of you.

mumbles a small “thank you for everything” before leaving

and he’s a pure wreck for days, nearly weeks after

of everyone he’s the quickest to delete your phone contact (to rip the bandaid off) but on his worst nights he cries himself to sleep watching videos of you two that he can’t stir up the courage to delete

hueningkai

the second member of the crybaby team

so no this is gonna suck a lot

because you’ve damn near never seen hyuka upset in any way. his two emotions are :D and :) he’s always a bundle of joy

so when you break the news to him, similar to yeonjun, you see his whole world collapse in his eyes

his eyes start watering and his lip starts quivering

“what did i do wrong? can i try to fix it?”

what hurts the most about hyuka is that he’s really gonna try anything and everything to get you to stay with him

he’s offering up everything, he’s swearing he’ll give you the moon and stars if that’s what you want

and when none of that works, he’s practically sobbing and he’s still begging

and seeing him like that with big fat tears streaming down his face pleading for you, its too much

young love is a son of a bitch :/

he pretty much never comes to terms with it, no matter how hard you try to explain it to him.

you give him one final hug and god he clings to you for dear life

“please don’t go, i’m sorry. i can fix it.”

there’s no easy way to leave the dorms so you have to just untangle yourself from him and go and the poor boy just wails for you

of all of them he struggles the hardest with this. still has you saved as “love of my life 💗🌈✨” in his phone, refuses to get rid of any the pictures you took together

occasionally still texts you whenever soemthing big happens in his life to tell you he’s thinking of you :(

texted you when they won their first big award and it was a bittersweet feeling when you responded with “congratulations, huening” instead of the usual slew of pet names you gave him

yeah he’s still hurting

[jjpmoans]

pleasurable temptation | cyj [m]

word counts : 2.9k+

warnings : cosplaying kink, a hint of exhibitionism, pure smut (it’s bad lmao)

summary :  What did he do to be under this kind of situation? What did he ever trigger you with? Why is he helplessly moaning while you take him in your mouth without sparing him any mercy? While he is playing with his friends even? What did Youngjae even do to deserve such a torturous pleasure? 

“Wait, baby, I can’t. Please don’t do this to me.”

a/n : sooo for october, we decided to join together for a writing collab between the members or @got7creators​! It is called All Sins Week since we are posting a week straight at the end of October. Do check other writer’s kinktober fic as well! Also I am fourth in the order and please forgive me for this absolutely no filth fic. I have no idea what I wrote and I am open for critics bcs I know it’s bad wkkwkwkkwkw and sorrryy if you feel like it’s bland. But i hope you enjoy reading and please give a lot of love to other writers of this collaboration!

[ All Sins Week Masterlist ]

“If you’re Tatsumi,” you ask, breaking Youngjae’s attention from the anime he’s watching. You’re sitting next to him, as usual as he binges watching his anime. “Who would you choose? Akame or Esdeath?”

Youngjae’s eyebrow raises, looking at you questioningly. It’s not new, you’re always asking random questions about the anime he’s watching out of nowhere but this time it’s different. You’re asking him to choose between the protagonist and the antagonist if he’s Tatsumi, the main character. “Choose as in what? As in my comrade?”

“As in your lover?” you scoop your ice cream into your mouth, waiting patiently for his answer as he’s having a breakdown over whom to choose. Youngjae always has a hard time choosing between the protagonist and the side characters, saying that of course people always like the main protagonist but the side characters are also precious.

Which is why now you only want him to choose between the two sexy female characters but you can see smoke coming out of his head.

“Do I really need to choose?” he looks at you with a painfully desperate face, wanting a way out of the question. “I like both though!”

“Nope.” you tut, placing down your bowl on the side table. “You need to choose one. Like if Akame and Esdeath offer to have a one night stand with you, who will you choose?”

You can see Youngjae shifts uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze by keeping his eyes on the tv screen. It’s not long before you spot the growing tent under his pants that makes him shift a couple more times and whines, “Baby, you’re making it sound weird.”

“Well,” it’s not that weird but it does feel weird when your boyfriend is turned on by a 2D character. “Choose one, big boy.”

“Why would any of them wants to have sex with me?”

“I don’t know.” you laugh. You know it sounds kind of weird but who cares? “Maybe they think you’re hot.”

“Nonsense.” He inhales a deep breath, biting his lower lips in an attempt of rethinking his decision, before turning to you like he has made a decision. “Alright, background aside okay?”

You raise your shoulders, agreeing with whatever his condition is. You don’t really care about their backgrounds, you just want to see which one of the female characters that got your man hard. 

“I personally think Esdeath is sexier.” he confesses, grimacing when he sees your serious listening face. However you keep him going, no attempt to cut him off. “Her outfit is always on point, but she looks very sexy in this one episode. So-” Youngjae scrambles to shake himself out of the narration, ending his answer with a simple statement. “I’d choose Esdeath.”

Tonight is the second night of the weekend and as you both had agreed to, it’s Youngjae’s gaming slash anime night. Usually he would be watching anime up until midnight and then continue by playing games with his friends. However tonight he chose to start playing the game earlier than usual, claiming that none of the animes have uploaded a new episode.

This is where you come in.

You stare into the mirror, looking directly to the satin robe that hugs your curves nicely. It’s light but it’s thick and it’s new. You received it yesterday, just in time for you to wear it on the weekend. 

“I must be insane.” you ruffle your hair, watching it slowly turning into a mess, a beautiful mess. You almost can’t believe that it’s you in the mirror, you look insanely a hot mess. It’s crazy how simple the outfit is but absolutely sexy and alluring.

It’s nothing much. You just want to see his reaction, rile him up and see if you can have him a moaning mess under you.

“Mark, Mark.” Youngjae taps on the shift button repeatedly, moving his cursor to hide his character from the opponents. “They’re just behind the truck.”

“Jaebeom hyung, can you sit down for once?” Yugyeom whines into the microphone, annoyed by the fact that Jaebeom is going to expose their location.

Jaebeom on the other hand is hiding behind a tree, reloading his bullets into the weapon. “Shut up, Yugyeom. I’ve been playing this game longer than you’re born.”

“Shut the crap. You are still learning how to write when I was born.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does.”

“Okay I see someone moving.” Youngjae interrupts their bickering, moving out of his hideout to a safe place. He wants a chicken dinner tonight and he’s not going to let anyone ruin the fun for him. “I can see his head….”

A shot is fired and Youngjae screams in triumph, successfully eliminating the annoying opponent that has been trying to kill his teammates. As usual, Youngjae being the expert one among them and Mark comes second while Yugyeom and Jaebeom casually got killed and left both of them alone to carry the team. Youngjae had to be satisfied with the squad because at least, they know how to play. If he asked Bambam or Jinyoung to play with him, nevermind. Oh Jackson? Not even a chance. That man doesn’t know how to stop once he starts working.

“Have anyone heard from Jackson hyung?” Youngjae asks, moving his character to steal the weapons and other things from the dead bodies. “It’s been a month since I heard about him.”

“Yeah.” Jaebeom answers distractedly, still trying to load his weapon. “Last time I heard, he’s still in China.”

The door creaks open and if Youngjae doesn’t have one of his ears free from the headphone, he might not have heard the sound. It’s very discreet, very soft as if someone is sneaking into the room. Not that Youngjae knows anyone that is able to sneak into his gaming room without his permission.

Ah yes. Except this one.

“What are you-- what?” Youngjae’s jaw hangs open by the time he tears his vision from the screen to you, standing in your glory right a meter away from him. 

“Why? What happened? Is y/n there?” jaebeom.

“Not really a problem though. Can I say hi to y/n?” yugyeom.

“I can see someone coming, guys.” Mark.

Youngjae doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or to cry. You’re standing about a few feet away from him, in an attire that is foreign to his eyes but absolutely gorgeous, sexy, deathly- did he say deathly? -- and fuck you look so fucking sexy. Your satin gown is modest yet slutty, exposing your chest and only covers half of your breast, the only thing that probably holds the placket of your robe is the three little buttons on your navel which threatens to burst.

Shit.

Something comes to his mind and right when he recognises your outfit, a certain name slips through his lips. “Esdeath.”

“Es- what?” Jaebeom asks, still distracted by the incoming attack from the enemies. 

“Esdeath?” Yugyeom on the other hand, successfully shot the new incomer and went into hiding while still focusing on the topic. “Esdeath as in the Esdeath in Akame Ga Kill?”

“Esdeath visited you?” Jaebeom mutters incredulously through the microphone. Youngjae can see that he’s squinting at the screen, probably trying to see the ‘Esdeath’ he mentioned. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“What- what are you doing?” this time Youngjae totally feels like crying. He forgot that he’s video conferencing to play PUBG and the possibility of his friends watching this through their screen frightened him. Muting the microphone, he looks at you again with mixed expression. “Baby, what are you doing?”

His voice sounds desperate and you haven’t even started anything yet. Yet. 

You let Youngjae’s eyes wander from your collarbone, down to the valley of your breast and to the buttons on your navel and further until his eyes fly to meet yours again, lust clouding his mind. You can see his pupils dilate, eye blown and breathless. 

It’s fun to see him affected. It makes you feel powerful. It makes you feel extremely satisfied.

Perhaps this is what Youngjae has always been feeling whenever he dominates you during sex.

“Baby?” he calls out again, desperate to know what you had in mind. 

Your eyes zeroed on the growing tent under his pants, it’s evident that Youngjae is already half-hard.

“I just want to ruin your mind tonight.” the immediate satisfaction fuels your desire to make Youngjae bend for you after watching his reaction. Youngjae is, what you can make out right now, utterly speechless. 

“I- I don’t understand- wait-,” as Youngjae stutters with his words, you’re already kneeling on the floor, pulling his gaming chair facing the pc again, slotting yourself between the table and Youngjae’s inviting man spread. 

“There is nothing for you to understand.” you utter while the tip of your fingers play with the string of his sweatpants. Youngjae’s eyes follow your hand down, his breath hitches as you press your palm on his hardening cock, giving him a firm grip. His moan almost comes out as a whimper, grimacing at the slightest contact as he tries not to show it on his face. 

“Youngjae?” Mark calls, snapping Youngjae out of his trance. He scrambles to switch the microphone on, just in time you pull down his pants, exposing his cock to your eager eyes.

The coolness of your palm wraps around his cock and the way you grip him makes Youngjae hisses in pain and pleasure, enough to elicit a curse out of him. “Fuck.”

Yugyeom quickly detects the change in Youngjae’s mood, asking him if he is fine and able to continue the game. And in all honesty, Youngjae wanted to leave the game the moment you walk in with the outfit, the fucking sexy outfit. He can’t describe how turned on he was, seeing you almost naked with that Esdeath cosplay.

“One moment, Gyeom-ah.” Youngjae is about to reply when you tug on his shirt, wanting to say something to him. “What is it, sweetheart?”

For the third time of the night, Youngjae wants to cry out loud. You are sitting under his table in that robe, your breast threatening to burst out of the tight material and fuck- Youngjae is so fucking hard. 

“Let’s make a deal. If you can finish the game quietly while I suck you,” your aura is absolutely different tonight, Youngjae realises that. You’re more dominating and goodness gracious, Youngjae have no problem with that. You’re so hot and Youngjae would give anything for you to suck him. “I’ll let you rip this robe off me and fuck me senseless.” 

Youngjae’s eyes widen at your suggestion. You’re making a deal with him? For what?

“And what if I can’t?”

“Well, if you can’t,” you drag your nail along his shaft, sending shivers up his spine. “Then you’ll let me ride you. Let me fuck myself on your cock.” you challenge him, holding his cock towards your lips, sucking his head lightly. Saltiness of his pre-cum invades your taste bud and you’re now addicted, wanting more of his cock. 

Youngjae inhales a deep breath, shifting in his place before unmuting his microphone, resuming his attention to the game.

Oh, bring it on.

“Youngjae, why are you so slow?” Jaebeom asks, running towards the unidentified dead bodies. He starts collecting the weapon and life stock while Youngjae’s game character stops in the middle of the track as if it’s malfunctioning. Technically, the owner of that character is, indeed, malfunctioning.

Youngjae’s breath labored as you continued to bob up and down his length, fisting his cock from the base and stroking his scrotum. It’s hard not to moan. Youngjae has been enduring your teasing quite good so far, only occasional hiccups and soft whines escapes from him and went unnoticed by other members. 

Youngjae has long given up to switch his microphone from mute to unmute then to mute again, he now resorts to detaching his headphone away from his head after muting the microphone so he won’t have to hear anything.

“Baby.” he whines, hips thrusting upwards as you kitten licks his head and slots your tongue on his slit, collecting his pre-cums. Youngjae’s cock is dangerously red, as if if you try to lick him one more time, you’ll see blood. His veins pop up and paint his length angrily. “Please baby. I don’t want to play the game anymore.”

“Hm?” you ask, not quite hearing his pleas. You take him in your mouth again, going down on him until he’s deep in your throat, humming to your satisfaction. His cock isn’t exactly big but he definitely makes up for the girth with his length and his stroke. “You’re saying?”

“I just-” a loud moan escapes him after you deep throat him once again, hitting your gag reflex. Youngjae trashes in his seat, holding the back of your head gently but firmly. It’s too much pleasure for him you guess. “Fuck. fuck. Fuck. please baby. Don’t do this to me.”

You release him with a pop and watch his cock curves backward, smearing the mixture of his precums and your saliva against his shirt. You don’t care about the video conferencing at the moment, you just push him further from the table so you can stand up and straddle him on his chair. They can watch if they want to.

You tug on the string of your underwear, revealing your nicely trimmed pussy to his eyes. At the sight of your drenched core, Youngjae mutters curses under his breath, reaching a finger to your fold.

“Fuck.” he caress your fold with his middle finger, occasionally dipping it inside only to let a gush of wetness out of your pussy. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

“Mmhm.” you agree. You’re wet from all the thoughts while you suck his cock, thinking of how good it would feel when you ride him. “Can I ride you now?”

“Fuck.” Youngjae’s hand grips your hip as he guides you, slowly sheathing his cock inside you at your speed. “Ride my cock, use my cock. Do whatever you want.”

“Oh-” you let out a long moan to the stretch of your pussy is extremely good, the feeling of being filled with Youngjae’s cock takes you to another level of ecstasy. Even though you have been fucked a lot, however, riding Youngjae’s cock is always, undefeated pleasure. 

“Are you being filled well, princess?” Youngjae asks as he’s balls deep inside you. 

“So, so full, Youngjae.”

“Goodness.” Youngjae’s hands roam all over your ass, then up to your navel, pinching your nipples through the satin robe. “You dressed up like Esdeath to have sex with me?”

“I just wanted to try a new thing.” You shift in your place and Youngjae’s tip nudges a certain spot in you, causing you to throw your head back, gripping on his shoulder tightly. Your eyes shut close as you start to ride his cock, feeling the bliss of his veins against your walls. 

Youngjae on the other hand is dazed with your breast, bouncing right in front of him. He reaches down and a quick flick of his thumb, your robe is open and you’re absolutely naked to him, at least. Your robe stays on your body but the upper part of the robe has slid down and exposed your shoulder, probably a good view for the boys.

“Look at these breasts.” he tuts, sticking his tongue to graze one of your nipples. It’s not a secret that Youngjae loves your breast and he probably has a fetish for your twin peaks. He always gives extra attention and he can go on for hours, licking and sucking your nipples.

“Want me to feed you?” you ask, hips moving up and down his length but you can always multitask, cupping your breasts and bringing them together, putting the nipples close. “Suck them, please?”

“Fuck. Yes fuck. Fuck.” he holds you by your waist, sucking your peaks alternately. Whenever the tip of his tongue grazes one of your nipples, your walls tighten around his cock, causing him to hiss in return. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

You nod, impaling yourself on his cock. You’re getting tired and you don’t really feel your legs so your movement starts to falter, slowing down after a few while. “Jae…”

“Tired?” he chuckles, tapping your ass as you nod to his question. As much as you enjoy riding him, you have to admit that your stamina would never surpass Youngjae’s. 

Youngjae lifts you in his arms and just like that, his dominant side appears again. Bringing you to the bed, Youngjae manages to press his cock deeper inside you, making you moan all the way. 

“Look at you.” he tuts when you’re spread on the bed, half naked in your Esdeath cosplay. “So beautiful.”

“So fucking sexy.”

“The death of me.” Youngjae’s hand trails up your leg, past your navel and cups your breast, pinching and rolling your taut bud. You actually shiver at the change of his emotion, retracting to become the submissive partner like you always did.

“Youngjae.”

“Hm?”

“Fuck me.” you plead, whispering as if someone will hear you. Ironic, you thought. Youngjae’s friends have probably disconnected the video conferencing because of your lewd moans and now you dare to whisper? “Please,”

“Oh yeah, of course my Esdeath. I’d fuck you hard and raw.” he promises, lining his cock at your entrance. “Be my guest.”

Copyright © 2020 jjpmoans. All rights reserved

[ Masterlist ] |  [ All Sins Week Masterlist ]

[zigtheeortega]

calm before the storm

✿ pairing: bryce x mc

✿ word count: 2.5k

✿ warnings: loss, death, funeral – angst.

✿ author’s note: i didn’t necessarily think that bryce was written ooc, but the whole post-funeral sequence was pretty weird to me. i’m someone who copes very similarly to bryce, so i could see myself reflected in him a lot. and i thought the s*x scene was very oddly placed so, here’s me warping canon again bc i’m dissatisfied! lmao hope u enjoy <3 also this fic is very close to me emotionally – i experienced two close deaths in april and june. 

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

He blinked and he was back home. Couldn't remember how he got there. He was on autopilot and didn’t have a clue until he’d already wasted so much time. When night came, he couldn’t recall what he’d done that day.

The days between the diagnostics team finding a cure were torturous, the mere thought of not knowing what the future held – for the first time in his life – shaking him to his core.

He found himself paying close attention to Keiki. Each sarcastic quip, rude comment, or joke at his expense, he listened, soaking it up, no thoughts about the problem back in Hawaii. He whole-heartedly enjoyed her. Through one of the hardest times in his life, he was rekindling a relationship that never should’ve fallen apart.

The night he spent with Spencer, cuddled up next to her in his starchy hazmat suit, was the most daunting of them all. He was smiling and flirting with her, a little bit of his normal self shining through, but the crushing weight of his reality was distracting him.

This could be the last time that you see her smile.

God, he knew he had a killer smile of his own, but hers put the whole damn sun to shame. Her grin lit up her whole body, like every atom in her body was in it. And despite her sunken in eyes, her pale, sickly appearance, she still emitted those same infectious rays that he was eager to soak up.

This could be the last time that you hold her.

He curled himself around her, spooning her like he’d done a handful of times before. What he wouldn’t give to have a faceful of her hair again, the tropical scent so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but associate the scent of coconut with her.

This could be the last time that you feel her.

He stroked her face with a gloved hand, wishing for nothing more than to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingertips again. He pressed into her, hoping she could feel his warmth through the thin layer of fabric.

When her eyelids finally fluttered shut, overcome with exhaustion, his mind wandered to the possibility of it all being over.

And he couldn’t cope with that.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

When the treatment worked, and both she and Rafael were cured, it was the first time in months he’d experienced genuine joy. He didn’t know what higher power out there was looking out for him, but he silently thanked the universe for looking out for her. And for putting her in his life, and decidedly keeping her there.

The funeral was too much for him.

Seeing the two caskets, sealed tight, the endless arrangements of flowers, the sea of black clothing… it was overwhelming. Foreign. Like he was intruding on something so intimate that wasn’t meant for him to see.

And the sounds. He’d never forget it. Choked sobs from every angle, constant sniffling, a sporadic wail. The atmosphere made him antsy. His suit was itchy, his shoes were uncomfortable, and he was surrounded by grief.

Both Danny and Bobby meant a lot to Edenbrook, but it was nothing compared to what Spencer meant to him.

He must’ve slipped into auto-pilot (again), because before he knew it, the funeral was over, and he was outside of her apartment.

Wordlessly, he wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, the smell of her shampoo enough to bring him to tears. He was so fucking close to losing that forever. His free will to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.

She invited him in, and every step to her room felt like each string that held him together was snapping, his sutures buckling under the weight he carried.

He was digging deep, trying to pull any kind of genuine quip from within him, to maybe – just maybe – convince Spencer he was okay.

But did he want to keep her in the dark?

Opening up was so fucking hard for him. Either he was a burden or he was let down by the people he confided in.

Trustworthiness was hard to come by, and Bryce knew that. That’s why Spencer was the first to know about Keiki, about his parents, about him. Not entirely, since he wasn’t ready for that just yet, but he was getting there.

It was a slow process, and he revered Spencer’s patience. Not once did she get upset with him for not sharing every detail.

And he almost fucking lost that.

His torturous inner monologue that he worked so hard to bury showed up when Keiki did. Guilt ate him alive, anxiety gnawed his insides, and regret feasted on whatever was left.

His mind was a hurricane, angry waves crashing painfully against his subconscious, the storm surge from his repeated trauma more than he could handle alone.

The one person he should’ve let in was almost taken from him, ripped from him like a surfboard after a wipeout.

He was drowning, and he flicked away the only hand that was outstretched for him.

And he almost fucking lost her.

The moment Spencer’s brows furrowed at whatever unconvincing mask he had plastered on his features, he broke.

His throat ached and flexed as he tried to choke back the tears, but he just… couldn’t.

Fuck, you’re so weak. He cursed at himself as the tears started flowing, warm streaks trailing down his bronzed skin, vision blurred like his head was under water. This isn’t about you.

The one time deflection was warranted, he broke down into a blubbering heap at her feet.

Like the angel she was, Spencer coaxed his body towards the bed, settling him against the down comforter before his legs buckled beneath him.

She gathered him in her arms, holding him exactly like he needed (like he wanted, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud).

She held him like he held her – like it was the last time.

The revelation tore him up inside, knowing she’d never take a second of their time together for granted again.

He pulled back, running a shaky hand through his hair, loose strands clinging to his damp forehead.

“I normally can hold it together better.” “You don’t have to do that around me, Bryce. You know that,” she encouraged, eyes still red-rimmed from the funeral.

“You’re the one that almost died, and I’m sitting here crying letting you comfort me,” he laughed through a sob, bouncing his leg on the ground nervously.

“You watched me almost die,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re allowed to be upset.”

His chin wobbled, and he rolled his lips to mask it. He took a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Spencer, I – have you ever…” He trailed off. Why was this so fucking hard?

“Have I been through this before?”

“Yeah,” was all he could manage.

She nodded. “Have you?”

“No.”

She nodded again.

“It’s making me think about my life… and the people in it. And things I could’ve done differently… better.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I saw you in that room, after the gas started affecting you, and your face… it –” he bit his lip to hold back a soft sob. “It got me thinking about everything that we didn’t do.”

“Bryce…” she laced her fingers in his, rubbing her thumb methodically over his skin.

“We’ve barely seen each other this year, Spencer. I got caught up with Keiki, and trying to figure shit out, and –” he searched her eyes, tears welling up again. “When I saw you in that room, nothing else mattered.”

“More than one thing can be important to you –”

“You’re important to me, Spence. You deserve better than what I’ve given you this year,” he shook his head, tears spilling over. “I can’t lose you.”

“You aren’t losing me, Bryce. I’m right here,” she practically cooed, trying her best to soothe him.

“I shouldn’t be the one being comforted right now. Please,” he whispered.

She pulled back, scooting backward onto the bed to cross her legs, as he stood up, pacing.

“It’s like I’m fucking up left and right with the people who matter to me,” he fisted his pockets, avoiding her eyes as he strode across the room.

“You of all people should know that you can’t take the blame for things that are out of your control,” she murmured softly, tugging at a loose string at the hem of her dress.

“I know I can’t control it and that’s why it makes me want to tear my fucking hair out,” he said through gritted teeth, biting back tears. He didn’t want to cry anymore, but his body had other ideas.

“Bryce, you couldn’t have stopped a bursting gas canister. Nobody could’ve stopped it.”

“That’s not what I’m frustrated over. I’m… I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick and making this about me. There’s a lot going through my head right now,” he laughed humorlessly, stopping in the middle of the room directly across from the bed.

“Talk it out with me. I’ve got time,” she smiled encouragingly, folding her hands in her laps politely, like the angel she was.

God, sometimes he was thankful for his parent’s demonic behavior, because if not for the bad karma the Lahela’s accumulated, there’s no way in hell the universe would’ve balanced itself out by placing an angel like her in his path.

“On the one hand I’m angry at myself for not spending time with you like I should’ve,” he chewed his lip for a second, trying to gather his thoughts, before speaking again slowly. “I could’ve lost you and I was more worried about keeping secrets from everyone and dealing with shit on my own, you know? Which I never should’ve done.”

“But you didn’t and still don’t have to tell me anything. You’re allowed to have boundaries,” she interjected calmly.

“But maybe… maybe I don’t want that anymore,” he shrugged out of his tux jacket, draping it over the back of her desk chair as he spoke. “You still barely know Keiki. I barely know Keiki. And I holed myself up when you were waiting there with open arms. I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t want to burden anybody? I don’t know.” He repeated, downplaying his own self–realization.

“And I’m frustrated because I don’t… know how to deal with this,” he gestured around the room, then to himself. “How to wrap my brain around all of it. This was the first time I lost anybody like this.”

“I wasn’t even super close to Danny and Bobby,” he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets to calm his shaking hands.

“Losing people is always hard. Doesn’t matter how close or distant you are to somebody,” she said, trying to hold his eyes, but he could barely look at her.

He’d never opened up like this before. He was so vulnerable… so exposed, and he was afraid. Afraid she’d run away. That she’d bolt the second he plopped his thick suitcases filled to the brim, nearly bursting with emotional baggage from the past two decades.

“I’m sad about losing them, definitely, and going to a funeral for the first time in my life really fucked with my head but… fuck, I’m gonna sound like such an asshole,” he willed himself to look up from his shoes, staring intently at her. “None of that even comes close to what I felt when I thought I’d lost you.”

“Kyra was hanging on by a thread while I thought you were –” he choked, pressing his lips in a firm line to stop his sobs, which escaped through his nose in short breaths instead.

“I’ve never felt pressure like that. And my life has been nothing but pressure.” The words were freely flowing from him, like a dam held together by a few twigs, snapping to release a flood that neither of them anticipated.

“You had to run towards your problems, not away from them,” she whispered, like she wasn’t sure if he’d agree. But the moment the words left her lips, it was like the puzzle pieces fell into place for him.

Maui should’ve been his safe haven, but from the moment his parents were exposed in every form of news throughout Hawaii, he was itching to leave. The island fever settled into his bones and never left. It was an ever present anxiety he struggled with despite finding a home in Boston, Edenbrook, and Spencer.

When shit went down back home, he ran. When people found out who he was states away from the fallout, he ran. It was predictable, methodical, like an appendectomy. The same muscle memory that sliced skin and fastened sutures with delicate precision pumped his legs until he was as far away from his problems as he could get.

“Everytime I lost somebody, it was because I chose to. This time it was like something was being ripped away from me, and I couldn’t handle it,” Bryce said, a profound statement that caused a pained whimper to escape his lips.

“Bry…” She breathed, scooting to the edge of the bed, gently tugging at his shirt sleeve to pull him down to sit on the comforter.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now, alright? And you don’t have to carry all of this alone. I’m here. You’ve got all of us,” she said, motioning towards the walls of the apartment. “Sometimes just letting it out can take the weight off your shoulders. And you’ve got a heavy load, Bryce.”

She rubbed soothing circles on his back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’m not leaving you.”

He held her eye, doe-eyed gaze piercing – Spencer could see right through him, and god did he love feeling seen.

There was nothing he could say to thank her properly for putting aside her feelings to listen to him for a few minutes. Those few minutes where he unleashed a small portion of the shit he’d been building up for years.

So instead he did what he’d been craving since the moment he saw her behind the glass.

He pulled her into a frenzied kiss, pouring every part of himself into the embrace, wrapping him in her arms like she belonged there, as if he was saying “I’m not leaving you, either. You’re safe now.”

––––

taglist: @pixeljazzy ; @raleiighcarrera ; @senatorraines ; @felix-hauville ; @violinet ; @empressazura ; @serafinedupont ; @messofakind ; @altairadtaz ; @hudush ; @solarbridge ; @adriansbiss ; @bellarxse ; @havennly ; @writinghereandthere ; @levineseth ; @lahellacute ; @michellesnguyen ; @kelseaaa ; @natesewels ; @lucas-koh ; @rainesenator ; @montjoy ; @bryceslahela ; @crestfallenpixie ; @dudebro-lahela ; @ezekielbhandarivalleros ; @lgbtiangley ; @part-of-the-circus ; @nazariolahela ; @hazel-nguyen ; @la-huerta ; @adamdusmortain ; @thepotatobleh ; @distinguishedsaladoperawinner ; @bobbymckenzie ; @catsomi ; @neptunesascendant ; @pixelsandkink

[if i missed you, i wasn’t able to tag your url! i tagged anybody who interacted w the post so if you want to be removed please let me know]

[writing-red]

Like Father Like Daughter

Father! Remus x Daughter! Reader

Also Reader x Oliver Wood, but lightly, a couple kisses xx

Authors note: I SUCK at time, years, and counting, I do not know what the deal is in 1975 in the HP universe so please please excuse that, merci lovely reader. Also! This was requested over a year ago although, as we know that’s about how long it takes me to write shit.

Request: Remus having a 7th year prefect daughter and not knowing until he teaches her?

Summary: Set during POA

Warnings: ANGST and daddy issues! Death! Bc I like trauma

Word Count: 1.9k

After an incredibly eventful train ride to school, and ensuring that Harry and his friends were okay, Remus hurried up to the headmaster's office. As it was his first year teaching there, and considering all that was going on with Sirius Black Dumbledore scheduled a meeting with the new professor.

“I don’t anticipate it will be an easy year, but no year here is ever easy or simple. Especially since Harry arrived on campus,” Dumbledore said.

“It was nice to see him again, he’s gotten so old, and he looks so much like James,” Remus said, melancholy lacing his voice.

“The boy could use some good positive reinforcement from somebody who knew his parents so personally. Please, do not share information regarding Sirius, I would rather not bring him down. Instead, I would prefer he focuses on his studies. Especially since we have such a talented Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year,” Dumbledore said.

“Of course, now is that all for now?” Remus asked as he gathered his things, wanting to spend some time on the grounds before the student's arrival.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this year. I believe you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what Hogwarts has to offer.”

“I’m sorry?” He asked, pausing to look at the headmaster, confused by his statement on the school.

“Oh nothing,” Dumbledore said with one of his signature winks.

Remus smiled, unsure how else to respond. “Well, I’ll see you at the feast later tonight.”

“Certainly,” Dumbledore said, seemingly having forgotten about his odd statement, already focusing on something on his desk.

Meanwhile, Y/n went along with her boyfriend, Oliver Wood to the feast.

“I wonder what kind of crazy shit will happen this year,” you said, thinking aloud.

“Maybe we’ll get a somewhat normal year for once,” he proposed, hopefully. “And a good bloody season.”

“At Hogwarts?” You retorted. “Impossible. And of course you’ll have a good season, you’re the best damn quidditch player I’ve ever seen.”

Despite a bit of red flushing his cheeks, Wood brushed off the comment. “I wonder who this years Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is.”

“I haven’t heard anything,” she said with a shrug.

“Well we’ll see,” he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Enjoy your feast with Weasley.”

You smiled back at him, “Oh I will, it’s a promise.” you said before splitting, as you went to go meet with Percy Weasley, and Dumbledore before the feast's official start.

The feast went as normal for Y/n, she was mostly preoccupied with seeing friends she hadn’t seen since the last school year ended, and her head girl duties. Being a Gryffindor she felt that the year would present some challenges, considering the difficulties her house had caused in the past two years. Y/n had nothing against Harry Potter, in fact she was quite fond of him, having tutored him in a couple of subjects. Although, she understood the trouble he and his friends were fond of.

Remus on the other hand was unnerved at the announcement of the Head Girls last name, La Rosa. Her being Head Girl meant she was a seventh year, meaning she must have been born in 1976. The math happened in his head faster than Remus would like to admit. Remus absolutely knew a La Rosa in 1975 who managed a disappearing act after a couple of months together, and a small scare of sorts. Although, he brushed off the arithmetic, and Dumbledore’s dubious wink with a large swig of wine, which earned him a judgemental scoff from Snape.

Eventually, of course, the feast ended and the tired first years returned to their rooms while friends and couples reunited, and Filch stalked the halls with Mrs. Norris close behind.

Both Remus and Y/n’s day started off with breakfast in the Great Hall as each had a first period in their schedule. Y/n’s day kicked off with charms, and ended with Defense Against the Dark Arts. She ate breakfast with Oliver and a couple of their friends, yet left early enough so that the two could walk to class together without him being late. They had a couple of classes together but knew that as the year went on their other half would respectively get quite busy.

Y/n was having a fantastic first day, excited for lunch she made her way from the Towers to the Hall, which was abuzz with talk of “Professor Lupin.”

“He let us do actual magic in class!” you heard one third year exclaim with a great deal of excitement.

“I’m just glad he didn’t prattle on about his book deal for the entire period,” some Ravenclaw said to their friend which made Y/n laugh.

“How was Snape?” Wood asked as you sat down next to him, he had sent a couple of letters over summer bragging about how he wouldn’t be taking Potions, and she was.

“The same, angry that he isn’t teaching DADA, now I’m more intrigued by this Professor Lupin,” you responded.

“Merlin, Y/n, it’s the only bloody thing I’ve heard all day!”

“I heard someone earlier say, ‘I’m glad he didn’t brag about his book deal through the whole class.’” You responded with a giggle.

“I can’t believe they ever hired that man,” Wood said with a snort.

With that the two of you started lunch, your friends Ethel and Roberto joining you only a little while into the block.

You had a couple of classes and a free period from the time spanning between lunch and when you finally got to step into Professor Lupin’s class. The buzz about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. had turned into a roar in just a few hours.

Despite being early you were not the first student in the class. It being a seventh-year course there were only eight of you taking the class, and there were already five of your peers sitting at desks. One of which being your boyfriend who had saved you a seat near the front of the class.

“You are late La Rosa,” he rudely teased as you set your things down and sat next to him.

“You know I can go find another seat, right?” As if on cue the last of your classmates filed in and filled the last couple of seats.

“Can you?” He asked with a goofy smile plastered over his face.

“Well Weasley owes me a favor and I’m sure you’d love to sit next to him for the whole three hour period.” “Oh that’s just cruel sweetheart.” Before you could retort your new professor walked into the room, immeadiatley silencing the class. Oftentimes the last class of the day meant students were groggy, and had shorter attention spans than usual, but this class was on high alert.

“Good afternoon, let’s go ahead and introduce ourselves however you deem fit. My name is Remus Lupin, and I am clearly your Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor this year, any questions?”

In response you along with a couple of your peers shook your head ‘no’.

“Fantastic, let’s go ahead and start with our Head Boy, if you could introduce yourself sir?”

Percy excitedly introduced himself to the class, not failing to make the new professor aware of his many, many achievements, after him a slytherin you had a strong level of distaste for, and on it went until you were left as the last student to introduce herself.

“My name is Y/f/n Y/m/n La Rosa, I want to write spell books once I leave Hogwarts, my favorite Quidditch team is Puddlemere, and my favorite food is milk chocolate although I’ve been told chocolate isn’t a food I disagree.” “I have to take your side Miss. La Rosa, chocolate is in fact a food, and deserves its own damn food group,” Lupin shot you a smile, then looked around at the small class. “I feel like you should all be writing down that your professors favorite food is chocolate for when you have to impress me at the end of the year.” 

Remus was genuinely confused by Y/n’s presence. He had decent intuition and something about the seventh year was throwing him off, and it wasn’t bad which honestly only confused him more. He decided it would be better to get ahead of it in order to not let his thoughts ruin his teaching.

“Well that’s it, class is over. Miss La Rosa if you wouldn’t mind staying after class for just a moment?” “Of course professor,” you said.

“Ooh in trouble already?” Oliver said and gave you a peck to which you rolled your eyes. “I’ll see you in the common room later love.” “Don’t forget our meeting tonight Y/n,” Percy said as he sauntered out the room which earned a second eye roll from you. 

Even though it didn’t take long, it felt like an eternity for the room to clear. All of a sudden your throat was in your heart, or, something. Whatever it was something was happening.

“I know this is going to come off as odd but I have an important question,” Lupin said, his eyes kind, no sense of a reprimand coming.

“Sure Professor, what is it?”

“What’s your mothers name?”

You figured he noticed your last name, and had maybe worked with your mum.

“Marie Dulcinea La Rosa,” you said. “Why?”

Remus’ mind started racing at a million miles an hour. “Did she attend Ilvermorny?” “Yes, is everything alright?” “I’m sorry dear, just two more questions.”

You responded with a single nod.

“Did your mother ever tell you who your father is, and are you a werewolf?”

A look of shock crossed your face and you clutched your bag. “I’m not supposed to answer that question professor.” “Y/n, I am, I also dated a Marie La Rosa in 1975, that same Marie attended Ilvermorny.”

“Are you trying to insinuate-”

“Yes.”

You walked out of the classroom as fast as your feet could carry you. You weren’t quite sure where you were going but you were crying and you wanted to be as far away from Remus Lupin as possible and your mind was far to occupied to think up a destination. Somehow that destination ended up being Dumbledore’s office, which by some means was open to you.

“You must have known, you know everything.” Not the best choice of words but it seemed to get the point across.

“That Professor Lupin is your father? Yes dear I did happen to know that.”

“And how long have you known that?” “Since the year you were born, Y/n, your mother and father both fought in the war and your mother came to me when she was pregnant with you. She didn’t want your father to know because she wanted him to stay and fight when she couldn’t. She wanted to raise you away from the war but she couldn’t ask him to abandon the cause.” “Does he know that she’s dead?” “No I am afraid that he doesn’t.” “Marie is dead?” 

You turned to see Remus Lupin standing in the entrance of the office. He was distressed and had clealry followed you to the headmasters office.

You gave a curt nod to answer his question.

“Y/n, I am so sorry, I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have ever let your mother think that I would value anything over her and you.”

“You have to know how hard it is growing up a werewolf with absoluetly no help. With no one to help you through your first transition, with no one to tell you that everything’s going to be okay. Then on top of that growing up thinking that you were nothing to your father, and losing your mum at 14?”

Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a mostly intact chocolate bar and held it out, towards his daughter.

“Let me fix it? Please.” It was a plea, and a kind request, an apology, all tied up in a chocolate bar.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Don’t Hide That

Prompt: okay i know its an overdone trope but its an overdone trope that i love //so much//- would you ever consider doing one of those "peter tries to hide an injury from a mission and the team finds out and reminds him he can ask for help and also that he's a silly idiot boy" bc those always make me feel so like ?? warm?? cared for?? i just love them so much

Thanks so much for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: none, love me that found family

Warnings: peter gets hurt kinda bad...there’s description of vomiting, blood loss, blacking out

Word Count:  2407

Spider strength is both a blessing and a curse.

 Peter can hold this building up long enough for the others to get the people out. He can do so he has to do it. He grits his teeth inside the mask until the air squeaks out and still he clenches. Peter knows he’s not supposed to clench his jaw this hard, it fucks up his neck and his shoulders and his whole system, but he has to hold this building up.

He hears Cap in his ear and he holds on. He sees Sam flying by him and gives him a quick nod.

 “Don’t let your head drop, Pete,” Sam grits out as he punches a bad guy square in the face, “you’re doing great. We’re almost done.”

 Peter knows better than to try and spare breath to reply.

 Rhodey swings by with a swarm of drones after him, sending repulsor blast after repulsor blast into the buzzing mass. Peter shifts just an inch to the left to make sure he gives them enough room. Rhodey glances at him before he has to duck around the corner and vanish again.

 Peter grits his teeth and holds on.

 How long has he been holding this? Minutes? Seconds? Hours? Does it matter?

 No, Peter thinks, holding tighter, it doesn’t matter. I just gotta—I just gotta keep holding.

 His arms burn. His shoulders ache. Something in his left ankle gave out ages—seconds?—ago. He has to hold on. Just hold on. Come on, Spider-Man.

 Sweat starts to run into his eyes. He blinks away the salt and holds on. His eyes start to burn. He squeezes them shut, willing them to stop. He wobbles. He forces his eyes back open, peering through the eyes of the mask. Karen’s in his ear, Cap’s in his ear. They aren’t all out yet.

 “Spider-Man, status.”

 “I got it,” Peter gasps, wobbling a little, “I got the corner. I’m gonna—how many are left?”

 “Half a dozen. We’re almost out.”

 “Wait, did you just say you have the corner?”

 Natasha’s worried voice is enough to send tremors to his knees. No. Not now. He can’t fall.

 “I’m fine.”

 “Pete—“

 “I said I’m fine,” he growls out, restacking his leg and shifting, even as the movement sends a bolt of pain through his left side.

 No tenderness. No weakness. Not now. He can’t let go.

 He hears more concern coming from his comm but he ignores it, shooting off the vaguest reports and asking questions about how many more are there? Where are they? Are the others still coming?

 The little twinge of pain in his left side isn’t going anywhere and he shifts again. Trying to figure out if he’s pinched a muscle, if he’s just breathing wrong, why doesn’t he remember how to breathe properly, Sam’s helped him so much with that.

 Peter clenches his jaw and holds on.

 He shifts again and he hears the sharp crack.

  Fuck.

 Broken ribs are the worst.

 Peter knows if he were to let anything slip, the slightest hiss of breath over the comms, a noise, even a gasp, someone would come to his side in an instant. But then they’d be leaving people in danger. They can’t deal with this. He can.

 He holds on, despite the pain.

 He scours his mind for every little thing Natasha’s taught him and schools his face into the perfect blank expression. Even beneath the mask it helps. His breathing becomes more controlled, his face barely twitching as the pain doesn’t let up. He has to be stoic. He has to do what needs to be done.

 Peter straightens up so he’s not hunched over, even as his muscles groan and his ribs cry out in protest. Unlike the normal fluid grace, this is halting, jittery, and wrapped up in strings and strings of agony. He strains against them all and stands. The smallest gasp escapes his lips and he almost freezes, worried that a tender voice will come over the line and make him shatter. He has to hold on, he has to be strong. He pushes the pain to the back of his head.

 “Almost there. Just a few stragglers. Start getting the others to safety.”

 The rush of relief is almost enough to make him drop but he won’t. If he doesn’t move, if he hardly breathes, the pain is at a point where it’s not overwhelming. To it fades into the background, with his straining muscles and jilted breaths, no longer governing his every move.

 Just a little longer.

 Just…a little…longer.

 He can do this so he has to.

 “Get clear!”

 The second he hears Cap’s voice he lurches into motion, tearing out from under the building and slinging a web up as high as he can. He pulls himself free with the instinct overwhelming his system, not enough to stop him from moving properly, until he’s up, up, high away from the building crashing down. His hand brushes something wet, and he looks down—

 A dark patch grows on his left side.

 Peter can’t tear his eyes away from it.

 It’s so much blood.

 It’s so much blood.

 It’s so much—

 —crash.

 Not bothering to look where he was swinging, too distracted by the sight of all that blood, Peter crashes headfirst into a billboard and rolls onto a roof, landing so hard it knocks the wind out of him completely.

 The dull pain becomes a fierce agony, flaring up so brightly that it rushes into Peter’s lungs and makes breathing seem impossible. He can’t see. Can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t feel anything other than the sharp stabbing in his side. Blearily, he tears off his mask to try and get some air but it’s no use. Everything is fuzzy. He’s on his back, why is he on his back? His arms go up on instinct to defend himself but he can’t move, has barely a kitten’s strength, he’s defenseless—

 Is he making noise? He can’t tell, everything’s so fuzzy, he doesn’t know what he’s looking for, he doesn’t know who he’s looking for, did they win? Where are the others? There’s something in his ear but he can’t tell what through the haze. He curls up, trying to hide, trying to make himself as small as possible, but it’s no use, they’ve seen him, he’s gotta get up, he’s gotta go, he’s gotta help, he’s gotta—

 It’s no use. He collapses time and time again and every time he hits the ground he hears a crack.

 Eventually he can’t move.

 There’s something pressing down on top of him. Concrete. Rebar. The roof caves in around him and—

 No. No, he’s not there. He’s free, he got out.

 Peter blinks. A mixture of blood and spittle and bile pools on the ground in front of him, more dripping bitterly from his lips. The sight of it makes him heave again, more bubbling up and oozing from his mouth. He ends up on all fours, his vision spinning so wildly it makes him retch again.  Each one makes his ribs throb harder until his stomach is entirely empty.

 It’s over. They’re safe. Right?

 He can…he can rest now?

 …yeah…yeah that sounds like a good idea.

 Peter’s just…he just…he’s just…gonna take a nap…right here.

 Right here…yeah, it’s fine…

 He passes out.

  Rhodey’s scanning for Peter the second he gets the alert that he’s lost consciousness. He slams the reverse hard, turning back and racing through the buildings, looking for something, anything, where are you, Pete—

  There.

 “I got eyes on him,” Rhodey says, snapping open the helmet and racing to his side. He immediately clocks the pool of bile and blood smeared all over Peter and the still-growing stain on his side. “Sam, get over here, now!”

 “Oy my way.”

 “Come on, Pete,” Rhodey mutters, rolling Peter onto his uninjured side so if he vomits more, he won’t choke himself, “you’re gonna be alright, I promise.”

 Peter is so small, and so young…his face is pale and covered with a grisly sheen of sweat, his lips almost white under all the partially congealed blood and spittle. Rhodey’s metal hand lands on his shoulder and the flimsy give of the muscle makes him wince.

 “Sam!”

 “Here,” Sam says, landing a few feet away and dropping to his knees beside Peter. “I got him. You make sure to get that suit applying pressure.”

 “Here?”

 “Yeah. We gotta stop the bleeding.”

 “Won’t that fuck up his ribs more?”

 “His ribs are already fucked, man, we gotta make sure he doesn’t bleed out too.”

 Rhodey winces and does as Sam asks as Sam starts running through his medic kit. For a second, this isn’t Peter, he isn’t in a suit of armor, and Sam isn’t Sam. He’s somewhere else, someone in the desert, the smoking wreckage of a plane not too far away.

 Then Sam looks at him and calls his name.

 “Rhodes, C’mon. You gotta keep him here, you hear me?”

 “I hear you.” Rhodey grits his teeth. “Where, here?”

 “Yeah. Harder.”

 Even unconscious, Peter lets out a hiss. Rhodey winces and looks back up at Sam.

 “Harder.”

 Rhodey can’t stop himself from full-on grimacing as he presses down, Peter jolting under his hands.

  The jet can’t get here fast enough.

 Sam works quickly, his hands steady, doing his best to get the kid stabilized before the jet comes to whisk them back to the compound. They can’t risk carrying him as he is, too much of a risk they’ll do more damage. But their wings and repulsors feel like tantalizing useless hunks of machinery as the fliers crouch there.

 “Hang on, Pete,” Sam mutters, “we’ll get you home.”

  Peter blinks his eyes open to the lights that are way too bright. He shuts his eyes and groans, only to gasp when the movement tugs at too many places in his body.

 “Peter?”

 Peter turns his head as the light behind his lids dims, opening them just enough to see the—

 “Guys?” Wow, does he really sound like that? “What’s wrong?”

 He licks his lips and tries again.

 “Are you—am I—“

 What happened? He’d been in the fight, helping, then the explosion had blown out one of the support beams and he’d jumped down without a thought because there were people in there and they needed time to get them out so he’d—

 —oh. Right.

 Peter’s eyes widen as he takes in the stony gazes of Cap, Mr. Stark, Colonel Rhodes, Black Widow, and Falcon.

 “A-are you guys mad?”

 Sam curses and Peter flinches as much as his ribs’ll let him.

 “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t hold it for longer,” Peter tries, “I’ll do better next time, did we—did you manage to get everyone out?”

 “Peter,” Cap says, taking a step forward, “they’re all okay. We managed to save everyone.”

 “O-oh,” Peter burbles, sighing into the hospital bed, “that’s…that’s good.”

 “Yeah, Pete, it is,” Cap repeats, still coming closer. He reaches out and lays a hand carefully on the bed right next to his head. “But you’re not okay. You almost didn’t make it.”

 “…s-sorry.”

 “No, Peter,” Cap corrects softly, reaching out to—to…brush his hair back from his face? What? “It’s not something you apologize for.”

 “You can apologize for scaring the shit out of me,” comes Mr. Stark’s voice, quickly followed by a thwack and an indignant yelp.

 The fingers in his hair make it really hard to focus on anything other than the pleasant buzzing sensation—though that’s probably whatever painkillers they’ve got him on—but still Peter pries his eyes open to stare up at Cap—oh and there’s Colonel Rhodes, and Falcon?

 “G-guys?”

 “We’re not mad at you, Pete,” Falcon says firmly, “just worried. You could’ve died out there and that building didn’t need you holding it.”

 “But I—“ Peter swallows— “I had to hold it.”

 “Why?”

 Peter frowns at Rhodes. “So you guys could…you know, go in and save people?”

 “We can fly,” Rhodes points out, “we could’ve gotten in there. You got hurt, Pete, and we’re not okay with that. You can take care of yourself in a fight.”

 “We’re not mad, Baby Spider,” Black Wid—Natasha says, coming up to the bed too, “we’re just worried. You ask us for help next time, hmm?”

 Cap—Steve hasn’t stopped stroking his hair and Peter’s having a really hard time keeping his eyes open right now.

 “B-but I—“

 “Shh,” she soothes, reaching down to trace his cheek, “we’re not. And you’re okay now. You just gotta remember you can ask, right?”

 “…you promise you’re not mad?”

 Steve huffs a laugh. “The only reason I’m not hugging you right now is that it would hurt. So…” He ruffles Peter’s hair in just the right way and Peter can’t hold back the keen. Sam chuckles.

 “We’re not mad, kid. Promise.”

 “I…did the breathing technique you suggested.”

 “Good. We can work on that when you’re not holding up a building.”

 Peter looks around at them. They really don’t look mad, but…

 “W-where’s Mr. Stark?”

 “I’m here, bambino.”

 O-oh. Oh, Mr. Stark isn’t angry. He never calls Peter that when he’s angry.

 Weathered fingers slide into his hair next to Steve’s and Peter’s eyes flutter shut. He hears Tony chuckle from somewhere above him.

 “Why don’t you sleep this off, bambino,” Tony hushes, “and then we’ll promise we’re not mad again.”

 Sleep. Sleep sounds good.

 “Silly boy,” he hears Natasha say faintly, “you can always ask for help, you just need to be a little less stubborn about admitting you need it.”

 “Don’t scold my baby spider.”

 “Your baby spider?”

 “Shh, you’re gonna wake him up!”

 “How is this my fault?”

 “For the love of god, will you shut the hell up?”

 “You shut up!”

 Peter drifts off to sleep in the warmth of the bed with the lights dim and two hands tangled in his hair.