#i hope he tries to keep it going too.....

[loveluvrs]

not enough l max verstappen x reader

request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3

author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!

Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me. 

“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him. 

“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance. 

I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded. 

——

When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes. 

With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings. 

After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed. 

maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there? 

georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?

dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before

landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself

I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue. 

I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me. 

she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her….. 

annoying people attract annoying people ig……. 

Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……

we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing. 

I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead. 

This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me. 

He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me. 

I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up. 

“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh. 

He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”

I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly. 

I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.

I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.

“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now. 

I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.

He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place. 

Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore. 

 A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”

Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”

“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way,  you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off. 

[ellecdc]

okay but….

what about an angsty/fluffy fic for poly!maruaders + lily x reader. like the reader gets overwhelmed to she leaves when their hanging out or something and the marauders + lily get terrified that they did something wrong 😔 but they comfort her and make sure shes okay! 🫶🏻

aawwwweeeeee

marauders + lily x fem!reader when things become too much for her

CW: brief panic/panic attack, healthy coping skills though, hurt with comfort, also run on sentences used as a tool to portray panic - the gif I made uses artwork by @/upthehillart

You had to admit that the combined bravery of four Gryffindors could, at times, be contagious. 

One example of having contracted momentary bouts of boldness was when Remus, Lily, James, and Sirius convinced you that Marlene’s birthday party was going to be ‘a lot of fun’. 

And between James’ excitement, Sirius’ cocky confident smirk, Lily’s hopeful smile, and Remus’ reassuring eyes, you believed them.

And it had been fun; at least getting ready with Lily in the boys dorm room as they all wolf whistled and showered you with compliments every time you pulled a brush through your hair or tried on a new top.

It had even been fun when you got downstairs and watched James, Sirius, and Lily dance their hearts out from your place curled up on Remus’ lap.

But then….

But then there were far more dancers on the floor. And then James came over, begging you and Remus to join them on the floor to which you staunchly refused but insisted Remus didn’t need to sit here on your behalf. And then everyone came back to the sofas but so did Marlene and Mary and Dorcas and Peter and Benjy and Gideon and Fabian and Emmeline and Amelia and Frank and Alice. And then they started a game of Truth or Dare during which they mercifully allowed you to fade into the background, but then you quickly became horribly embarrassed that they were handling you with kid gloves. And then you became embarrassed that you had to be handled with kid gloves. And then a conversation started about the hottest people at Hogwarts and Sirius began bragging that he was dating most of them, shooting you a salacious wink as he pulled Lily tight into his side. And then James joined in to say the group of you were five tens which basically made you 500’s and then Peter had to tell James that he wasn’t doing the maths properly and then you felt like the noise of everyone’s voices talking over each other was a physical presence in the room that was slowly closing in around you and you could feel everyone looking at you and those who weren’t looking at you were definitely thinking about you and it was too much, too much, too much.

So, as James had Peter in a headlock and Lily was on Remus’ lap and Sirius was standing behind the chair that Remus and Lily were currently occupying, leaning forward on his elbows as he cheered James on, you snuck through the portrait hole and rushed down the halls of the ancient castle to look for a hiding spot to completely break down. 

Sirius felt his blood run cold when he looked up only to see you missing from your seat.

Damn it. He knew; he knew he should have been sitting with you.

Remus had told him and James to keep an eye on you, which was Remus-talk for “don’t overwhelm her, you sods”, so he refrained. 

But now you were gone and it was probably his fault.

He quickly tapped Remus’ shoulder as he moved to haul James off of Peter (who never even thanked Sirius for his service, mind you) and made for the portrait hole.

“What the hells, Pads!?” James pouted petulantly. “I was winning!” 

“I don’t know where our girl went.” He stated, ignoring James’ protest as he looked up and down the hall outside of the Gryffindor common room.

“Well here’s one.” James offered as Lily stepped through the portrait hole, quickly followed by Remus.

“What’s going on?” Lily asked.

“Where’s dovey?” Remus added severely, moving down the hall as if following her trail. 

“I don’t know.” Sirius admitted; his voice falling far more vulnerable than his usual boastful and arrogant affectation. 

James quickly moved over and pulled Sirius into his side. “I think it was my fault.” He whispered miserably.

“No Pads.” James reassured. “I was being too much.”

“I shouldn’t have made her feel pressured to come.” Remus said with a sigh. 

“We shouldn’t have drawn attention to her.” Lily mused as she chewed on her cuticles. “Oh god, what if this was too much? What if we’re too much? What if this is what makes her decide she can’t handle us?” 

“Whoa, whoa.” James interjected, pulling Lily’s hand away from her mouth. “How about we start with finding her, yeah?”

Lily and the boys were in agreement as they began their search of the castle. 

You felt ridiculously childish sitting on the cold stone floor hugging your knees to your chest as tears fell silently in some random alcove on the fourth floor of Gryffindor tower.

What were they thinking, being with someone as pathetic as you? This would do it, certainly; this is what would make them realise you weren’t worth their time. You couldn’t even sit through one sodding party for their sakes. 

You were such a fraud, agreeing to participate in a relationship you had no business in; silly, foolish, selfish.

They were all going to know it.

You were spiralling, that much was clear. You knew you tended to get like this when things became too much.

“Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater, Y/N.” You sighed to yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to take some steadying breaths.

Your breathing exercises were interrupted when you heard hurried footsteps making their way towards you. 

“Y/N?” Sirius called out quietly; though he may as well have screamed at you with the way your heart sped up and your breathing became erratic, eliciting a fresh stream of tears to start cascading down your face. 

“Hey, hey babydoll.” He cooed at you as he knelt beside you; the others appearing behind him with matching looks of concern. “You’re alright baby, you’re okay. Can you take some deep breaths for me?”

You let out a choked sob and shook your head quickly, causing Sirius to turn behind him in search of help. 

“Here, angel.” James said, taking Sirius’ spot and pulling you into his lap before wrapping his strong arms around you and squeezing. “But you have to take some big breaths for me, okay? Can we do them together?”

You worked hard to try to emulate the dramatic breaths James was taking for your benefit; and though yours were far shallower and much more shaky, he showered you with praises at every exhale. 

“What happened, darling?” Lily asked cautiously as she knelt in front of you and James, taking a moment to push some of your hair away from your face. 

“Too much.” You admitted through a hiccup, keeping your answer short lest your breathing become erratic again.

“Were we too much?” Sirius asked, his voice timid and his face vulnerable; you hated it.

You hated it even more knowing that you were the one to put it there.

“I’m not good enough.” You blurted; voice uncharacteristically high as you spoke through an ever present lump in your throat. “I can’t be-be brave like you, I…I can’t. I tried but I- I can’t. And I’m not good enough; I’m no good for you.” 

“Well that’s enough of that.” Remus decided; words strict but tone soft. “I like to think I’m able to decide what’s ‘good enough’ for me, and I’ve decided that’s you.”

“Yeah, and Moony’s the smartest out of all of us, so I trust his judgement.” James teased gently, wiggling his arms around you in an attempt to get you to smile.

“Well I take offence to that.” Lily responded as she looked at James wryly. 

“Second smartest.” Remus corrected; nudging Lily with his foot.

“Now that may not say much about them, though.” Sirius continued, his voice taking on the tone alerting you to his particular brand of teasing. “I mean, they do willingly put up with me and Prongs.”

James scoffed in faux offence as Lily and Remus chuckled. 

“If we can put up with these two,” Lily said as she dramatically motioned towards her two boyfriends with her head. “Then you’re a breeze, my love.”

You let out a sigh and burrowed your face into James’ neck who was all too happy to snuggle you closer.

“What upset you, dolly?” Sirius asked gently.

“It was just…”

“A lot?” Remus offered, causing you to nod.

“Anything we could have done to make it less…much?” Sirius offered again.

You left your sanctuary in James’ neck to look up at the long-haired boy before offering him your hand.

As if he’d only been waiting for the offer, he quickly fell to his knees beside you and pulled your hand into his chest with both of his. 

“I don’t want any of you to be less.” You whispered.

James let out an awe as he snuggled you closer and Sirius pressed a small kiss to your knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to make you all leave your friend’s party.” You admitted shamefully. “I’m sorry; you don’t have to stay here with me; I can just go to bed.”

James made a protesting sound as Sirius scoffed and Remus shook his head with a fond smile.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say we are exactly where we want to be, darling.” Lily offered with a wink. 

You had to admit that you were, too.

[screampied]

Hii baby veygusssss<33 hoping you a nice day / night🩷🩷, so um hear me out Choso x shy reader re-creating one of p-hub most liked nor watched vid? Just a silly thought of mine hehehei feel free to ignore this. Muaaaaa😚💗

- 🧃 ( new anon, I hope it's not taken yet😞 )

꒰১ cw. fem reader, doggystyle, hair pulling, choso tries dirty talk, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.

“baby, i— i wanna do this,” choso mumbles, showing you the video that displayed across the screen. oftentimes he’d show you some positions he’d wanna try, the only ones you’ve ever done with him so far was missionary or cowgirl. his ultimate favorite out of the two—just you straddling him, staring into his eyes always makes him shudder. “can we try it?”

peering at the screen, it was a woman and a guy performing a well known prominent position. with a shy expression, you speak in a soft tone. “doggystyle? you wanna try that?”

“yeah,” he pouts, closing out of the web page before turning back towards you. the both of you were on the bed, tangled limbs keeping each other warm before he pants. “i think you would look pretty like that,” and he gulps. “i mean, you’re always pretty— but like . . on your hands ‘n knees for me, you know?”

you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “i know what you mean, baby, and okay. we can do doggy if you’d like.”

choso’s face lights up and he only grows more flustered once he sees you sit up. “okay, okay,” he tries to compose of himself, gawking openly as you lie flat on your stomach. then, you sit upright, placing the palms of your hands on the bed with your knees in place. his lips quiver, taking a three second glance at your ass. “a-and i’m gonna get behind like this, i think,” he cutely tries to remember the video. choso’s already starting to pant, shallow breaths of clouded puffs depart from his lips before he springs out his dick. he lets off a whine, staring at your pussy and how it was a bit moist from the outer entrance. “oh, it’s so wet from up close.”

“choso,” you tease, feeling yourself grow hot yourself. “any day now, baby.”

“s-sorry, sorry,” he snaps out of his erotic trance, reaching near the nightstand drawer to take out the lube bottle. he tried not to take too long, he wanted to be inside just as much as you wanted him inside also. quickly, he applies the lube in the right areas of you before focusing his attention back towards his throbbing cock. “give it a f-few pumps before going inside,” he speaks to himself underneath his breath, stroking his length once or twice. you wriggle your ass in anticipation and he only grows more abashed. you were shy just as him, although you were a bit more of an impish tease. “tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

“okay, ‘cho.” you comply.

after a bit, he inches the head of his tip near your slit that’s starting to open. he’s mesmerized, his mouth slowly pries open at the sight before he’s gradually starting to sink his way in. as choso grows quiet, you let off a soft moan that makes him pause.

“baby? does it hurt? what ha—”

“choso, ‘m moanin’ because it feels good, ‘m okay i promise,” you simper in a shaky breath, leaning against your folded arms. not even facing him yet you could tell he was so big—standing tall proudly with inches underneath his metaphoric belt. “keep going.”

he gulps, nodding with a sweet, “okay,” before resuming where he left off. such thickness has your lips spreading apart,

he falls in love with the warmth that your gummy walls provides—sending him into straight nirvana.

it feels almost blissful, you squeeze against him before relaxing, he’s barely even halfway in and you already feel the elastic stretch. it’s too good, the moans that constantly let out from your mouth only makes his dick twitch more. once you let off a whine, he whines. “just a few m-more inches, princess,” he swallows—choso’s throat becomes suddenly dry and you bite your lip. so big, the way he’s so gentle to not break you was oh so cute nonetheless. “so warm.”

choso speaks in a low gruff voice, yet it’s still so whiny. your goopy walls forever cling onto him before within seconds later, you’re rightfully stuffed. he gasps, a sudden sweltering sensation waves over him once he realizes he’s buried balls deep. a few languid seconds inside your pussy and he was already losing it — the poor thing, you had him whipped.

“ugh,” he whimpers, preparing for an impactful thrust. choso’s a bit awkward, trying to remember what his eyes saw from the video as he holds your hips firmly. “gonna f-fuck you now, baby,” he mewls, and gives you a single thrust. he’s hesitant, wanting to make sure you’re okay before you’re babbling for him to not stop. a single thrust like that was purely addicting—you throb and he feels it, the way your walls constantly tease him by constricting around it.

so evil,

your ass is held up high against the bed before he starts to fuck you at a sloppy pace. sweaty thumbs of his brush against your hips as he’s holding you firmly in place, trying to maintain a decent enough rhythm. “ngh, so hot inside, feels so good,” he hiccups, feeling the very bottom of your hips tilt back. skin against skin — it feels like you’re melting against choso, it’s heavily intoxicating.

with the way your ass sticks up against him like glue, he goes crazy, feral. choso makes you spread a bit further before he’s really driving his cock into you. he makes sure his pace isn’t too fast before he lets off a melodically lewd moan. with his sculpted abs flexing, he lets off a soft whimper. “baby can- can i pull on your hair a little too?”

you giggle, nodding as you’re continuing to adapt to the feeling of being jostled against the silky bedsheets. “yes, choso. go ‘head.”

choso’s wheezy pants grow heavier and heavier, he leans up close to where he’s shoved right up close against you. with your knees widening, he grabs a good amount of your hair before giving it a soft kitten tug. “is that good?”

“baby, harder. ‘s okay, you can be a l-little rough.”

he pouts, giving you a more harder tug and you moan— leaning forward with your head lying back down between your arms. “just like that, doin’ so good baby, keep—keep going, fuuuck.”

your torso’s upright, he moans at how good you feel from the inside. choso can’t help but feel himself starting to drool a bit. your pussy was addicting in every way. you fuck back against him, rotating your hips a bit and he squeezes your right ass cheek. choso’s never really stared at your ass much, but now, that it was constantly bumping back against him—he just couldn’t look away. “m-my goddd, ‘s warm,” he pleads out, desperate for more of this feeling. you clamp down on him tightly, nerves all over his body send him shivers inside and out. choso can already feel himself start to sweat, his dick continuously reaches every orifice inside of your stuffed pussy. for a moment, he closes his eyes shut, getting hard at the rough recoil your ass smacks against his torso. it’s sexy, something within him was telling him to spank you but he wanted to ask first. “f-fuck, um . . princess? one more thing?”

“yes baby?”

“can—” he breathes through jagged breaths, slowing his pace down just a bit to rub a thumb against your hips. “can i spank you o-one time?”

“yes, ‘s okay, spank me, choso.” you moan, feeling his tip reach deeper throughout your tightening cunt.

he’s so sweet, he caresses the left cheek of your ass before giving it a spank. it jolts you forward and you let off a sweet gasp, though once he realizes you like it, he starts to spank you over, and over, and over, until you’re being more vocal than him. choso’s so in love with your voice that he could listen to it all day,

it was something about the smoothness in it. the way you whine for more in such a honeyed tone makes the tips of his ears burn. he still couldn’t fathom that he, choso kamo—was making you feel this good. but the more he starts to rut into you, the more he starts to feel something creep up. it’s sneaky—steadily arising before he feels a pool of warmth reside near his lower abdomen.

“i- i think ‘m gonna cum,” he whimpers, and he says it quickly, you feel the vein that runs down his shaft pulsate through you and your legs squeeze together for a moment. he pokes his bottom lip out, about to spank you against but he hesitates. he doesn’t wanna be too mean, so he caresses your bare cheek instead, brushing a thumb against your ass like a brush paints its canvas. “should i p-pull out?”

“i-inside, choso. inside.” you whine, and darkened brows of his raise. his mind’s racing and he’s taken aback, you want him to finish inside?

choso grips your hips with both hands, trying to remember the video before he cutely spews out a specific dialogue. “g-gonna flood your pretty vagina with my sticky cum, whore.”

and you giggle—you giggle and choso gasps.

“w-what’s funny?” he frowns, pausing his hips. “did you not like my dirty talk?”

he’s still buried deep into you from the hilt and you bite on your arm before replying. “heh, no it’s just .. nevermind,” and you have a soft smile, still not facing him. “but we gotta work on your dirty talk, baby. no one really says vagina or sticky cum.”

“…oh,” he says with his brows curling into a furrow. so cute, yet after a while, he finishes anyway.

his orgasm hits him like a truck — it’s so good that he whimpers, rocking his hips against you before feeling the drenched sloshes of oozing cum pouring into you. it’s thick, ropes and ropes of his velvety seed trickles into your sopping folds. he came a lot too, despite it being a bit early. whines welt from his mouth before he pulls out slowly, staring in revere at the way your pussy’s plugged all in. momentarily, his cum starts to dribble out and he runs a thumb down it to touch it. it’s warmth, he shudders before averting his attention back towards you, towering over you. he pants, “s-sorry, you didn’t get to finish.”

“we’re not done, silly,” you kiss the bridge of his nose where his scar lays. “and don’t be sorry. you did amazing with doggy, you’re a natural.”

choso pouts, yet grows flustered once your lips hit against the bump of his nose. “eh. but i could do better. i wanna learn how to talk dirty for you.”

“we have all the time to practice, baby,” you softly whisper, pulling him into a hug—wrapping your shaky legs around his slim waist. choso inhales, staring at you with rough pants leaving his lips every millisecond. “we’ll get better.”

he lets off a relieved sigh at how understanding you were, he lays his head against your chest, bristle hairs of his ponytails tickle against your skin before he speaks in a shy tone. “o-okay, okay but um .. can we maybe try another position i saw?”

“what is it baby?” you hum, stroking the edge of his temple in such a hypnotic way—the benign rhythm of your fingers was so soothing he found himself almost drifting off to sleep.

he had a cute smug grin. “f-full nelson.”

[formula1blog]

hey could you write about Carlos Sainz. Y/N is a 24 year old Spanish journalist and she and Carlos flirt all the time in front of the camera and Lando and Charles make fun of Carlos because he is always looking forward to doing an interview with Y/N ​​because they flirt hard every time. two that on twitter they created a hashtag on the flirting moments between y/n and carlos

Behind The Camera

Carlos Sainz x Spanish Journalist fem!reader

A/N: I hope this is wat you meant. I never worked with these fake apps before, so don't pay too much attention to dates and times.

One of the flirting scenes is highly based on that one Sebastian Vettel interview.

The paddock was buzzing with people from all around the world. Grand stands were filled with the colors of different teams and drivers. There were big crowds of orange for the hometown heroes, Max verstappen and Lando Norris.

Cheers were heard as Carlos crossed the finish line in p2, just behind his teammate and in front of his old one. The red bull had crashed out of the race after the touch when Sergio Perez tried to overtake the Dutch man. Unfortunately both of the cars tuned into each other, moving Carlos up to third. After the pitstops he had managed to do an undercut on the Mclaren driver and finished on the second podium place.

"That is P2, mate. Good job," his race engineer congratulated him through the radio, prompting Carlos to let out an excited scream.

"Vamos!" he exclaimed, parking his car in front of the P2 sign and stepping out with a wide grin on his face. Charles stood on top of his own car, proudly displaying one finger in the air to signify his win. Carlos congratulated his fellow driver on the victory before turning to his team and embracing them in a warm hug, celebrating their shared success. It is a good day for the Ferrari fans and that didn't happen often.

.

"Congratulations Carlos on your p2. How are you feeling?" You ask with a bright smile on your face. You always loved interviewing Carlos. He is always really nice and you have nice conversations behind the cameras. Also a plus point that he drives for your favorite team.

"Great now that you are here," he answers, his eyes twinkling as he gives you a wink that sends a shiver down your spine. You have to try hard not to blush at the man's charming comment. "It's a great day for the team with a 1-2 finish. I hope we have more of these moments to come."

"You were absolutely flying out there today. Your performance was outstanding. I am sure that you have more of these moments. "

Carlos smiles at your words, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you. The car felt great and the team did a great job with the undercut." He had been looking forward to seeing you today after he heard you will do the podium post race interviews. Lets just say he had some extra motivation for this race.

"With the undercut you managed to get in front of Lando. Was it difficult to keep him behind?"

"Of course. He is a great driver and their car is very fast. He really had me concentrate those last laps. " Carlos looks back at where Lando was standing next to the race winner. Lando gave him a little smile for the comment.

"The safety car came at a good moment and you got a free pit from it. Do you think you could have had the same pace with the old ones?"

"The safety car did come at a great time. I was struggling with the tyres and really wanted to switch them. The team said I couldn't because then I had to drive out the race for the remaining laps and that was too many. So having an extra free stop really helped. "

"Any plans for after the race. How are you going to celebrate it?"

"I am sure there is a party planned already. Good thing is that it is summer holiday and we don't need to do training wasted." He jokes and you let out a laugh.

"Sounds great. Have any plans for the summer break? How are you going to spend your free time? "

"Well, What are your plans?" He smirks and you have to take a second to let your mind take in his comment. You want to play to game with him, but chose to be professional and do as if you don't get the hint.

"Nice of you to ask. I'm heading back to Spain to visit some family," you reply, trying to maintain your cool exterior even as your heart races at the thought of his attention turning towards you.

"I hope I see you around then, Hermosa" Carlos says, his smirk widening as he rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture that sends a jolt of desire through you. You say your goodbyes before Lando takes his place in front of your camera.

Out of your sight Charles laughs at his teammate and gives him a pat on the back, a playful smirk placed on his face.

"What?" Carlos looks at him with confused puppy eyes. He takes his water bottle and takes a sip.

"What are your plans." Charles imitates his teammates question before letting out a louder laugh that turns the head of other people. "Mate, just ask her out already. It is painful to watch you keep flirting with each other."

"I ask her what her plans are. That is just being polite."

"Alright. And when you found out she was doing the post race interviews, you didn't smile from ear to ear because you would be seeing her again?"

"She is a great journalist and my friend. "

When Lando came back from his interview with you he had made the same remark as Charles and Carlos just groaned in reply. He was not going to hear the end of it.

The fans on twitter were going wild after the interview. It wasn't the first time you and Carlos had shared some flirty comments and there were fan pages dedicated to the two of you. There was even a tag going around with all the fans favorite moments of you two together that you weren't aware of.

Lando laughs as he opens twitter. He was at the celebration party after the race and he had sit down next to the two ferarri drivers after a round of shots.

" Whats so funny?" Carlos asks with a confused expresion as he tries to look at the Brits phone. Lando shows the Twitter reactions.

" Looks like you are the only blind one."

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XIII

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter I

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Ladies and gentlemen be very careful because this chapter challenged me in a way I didn't know it would. There is smut. Who would i thought that I, Me, MOI, would write smut haha... I hope you'll enjoy it either way because it's my first time writing a coitus scene.

You stared at the body in front of you. You were almost scared that he would open his eyes and you would have to fight once more. You could take him. You knew you could and you would. Even if he was crawling from Hell, you would shoot him once more.

“ Is he…dead?” you whispered, never shifting your eyes from the man. There was so much blood pouring out of him. How were you going to clean him? How were you going to explain his wounds? 

You gasped as you were tugged into a warm chest. You lifted your eyes to see Alastor beaming at you. He began to dance with you, making you twirl in the snow while singing a song you used to dance to in clubs. You laughed as he nuzzled his nose against yours. You closed your eyes as you let him guide you in his dance, lifting you in the air before caging you in his arms.

“ You were perfect, dearest ! I don’t think I could have thought of a better performance !” he kissed your face multiple times without stopping as you laughed heartily. You cupped his face between your hands, looking at him with all the emotions you could conjure. “ Now dearest…”

He put you down before taking something out of his pocket and you couldn’t help but gasp as he kneeled in front of you. Alastor was kneeling. You knew him from his younger age and he was too prideful to show any kind of humility, ever, and yet there he was, in front of you, all bruises, bleeding from his nose and lips, kneeling in front of you with a red little box in front of you.

“ This is your last chance to run away” he scoffed “ but you know now that I can catch you.. But I’ll let you believe you have a choice.” he smirked at you, opening the box, showing you a golden ring.

You laughed, shaking your head, as if you would say no to him no. You smiled as he slid the ring on your finger, watching him as he kissed it and then tugged you against him, kissing you like a mad man.

You cupped his face as you kissed him feverishly. You needed air, but you didn’t want to break away from Alastor, you wanted his lips against yours. You pushed your body against him as he laid you down on the snow. Your kisses still tasted like blood but you didn’t care. You were rolling your body against him, wanting to feel him closer, more than ever. You were feeling hot like lava even though you were against the cold snow. 

Without even being aware of it you spread your legs so Alastor could settle between them. You moaned as you tried to push your hips against him, making him groan against your tongue. You nipped at his lips as his hand settled on your waist, going under your shirt. You gasped as you felt his hand caressing your skin underneath the bloodied shirt. 

“ Dearest… If you keep sounding like that…” he panted, staring at your face with dilated pupils. He was staring at you as if he wanted to devour you. Maybe that should have made you scared but you felt more excited than you expected. You clumsily took off your shirt, throwing it on the snow, keeping your eyes on Alastor. You felt your nipples harden because of the cold but you didn’t care. You only cared for one person right now and it was yourself.

“ I want my dear husband to claim me for himself.”

You bit your lips as Alator took off his jacket, slowly unbuttoning his shirt while staring at you like you were his prey. You did read books about sex, but you were still nervous. Would it hurt? Would Alastor enjoy it? Would Alastor enjoy your body?

You moaned as you stared at Alastor’s torse. He was beautiful. His scars were decorating his lean muscles, his arms were flexing with every move he was doing. You blushed as you felt a wet substance on your panty.  Were you really that excited because Alastor was shirtless? 

Alastor stared at you, moving slowly, like stalking a prey, or waiting for you to say you didn’t want anything that's happening right now. You needed to satisfy him. What were the books saying…? 

You quickly took off your pants, being only in a pair of bra and panty. From what you have read, men wanted to be inside women as quickly as possible. You blushed furiously but you wouldn’t back down now!

Alastor’s hand stopped you from taking your panty off as he bent toward your thighs.

“ I’ve always wanted to take a bite of those sinfully thighs of yours.” 

You moaned as you felt him kiss your skin, caressing in a comforting manner your waist. You gripped his hand as he licked, bit and kissed your thighs, marking them with his teeth. You tried to stop your moans but thinking about the fact that Alastor was the one touching you was making you lightheaded. It wasn’t like in the books, you were supposed to be the one making him feel good!

“ I know you are thinking about your stupid books. I’ll stop if you think about anything else but us right now.” he bit your thighs harder, making you moan. 

“But…But how am I supposed to know how to please you..?” you sighed as his hands were caressing your belly. You tilted your head against the snow, your eyes looking shyly at Alastor who had his eyes straight trained on you.

“ Like you always did. By being yourself.” he licked the marks he had made on your skin before tilting his head against your smooth thighs. “ What do you wish for ?”

You blushed, looking away but he took your chin with his hands, forcing you to look at him. You knew he hated when you were trying to hide yourself from him. You inhaled deeply.

“ I want… to touch you…” you whispered. He smiled at you before moving above you. You stared at his face, making sure he was okay as your cold hand touched his torso. His body was so hot against your hands. You caressed his skin, going toward his shoulder then his back. You saw him sigh as he closed his eyes, going toward your neck to kiss your skin there. 

Feeling him so close to you was so overwhelming and yet, you wanted to feel even closer to him. You timidly pushed your pelvis against his, making him hiss. You stop moving, trying to see his face. Were you doing something bad? You felt his hand dug into your waist.

“ Is… is it okay..?” you asked but before you could once push yourself against him you felt him tugged you against his pelvis making you moan. You could feel something hard against your panty and you blushed. Was it Alastor’s member..? You bit your lips as you moved against him, moaning louder. God, he felt so good… “ Should we…?”

You looked at Alastor as he chuckled against your skin. He leaned away from your body, looking at you fondly. “ Dearest, you must think I don’t know anything about sex, but, trust me, I know what I want to do to you.” he kissed your lips then trailed down toward your panty. What was he…? “ And as you know, I’m greedy with what I desire.” you kissed your crotch through your panty, making you gasp. “ If you allow me…”

You were blushing madly but you wanted it so badly. You spread your legs, your body twitching from anticipation. Alastor was licking you through your panty while keeping his eyes on you. You tilted your head back, your legs squeezing his head. You didn’t know what was happening but you were loving every second of it.

You moaned loud when you felt his tongue against your bare sex. You looked at him, he had his eyes closed, kissing and licking your vulva like it was  the best dish he had ever had the blessing to eat. You couldn’t contain your voice as you moaned his name, gripping his air tightly.

Alastor was eating you out. The Alastor you have known all your life. The one who didn’t give a damn about other people’s existence,the one who had never looked at other people as more than tools, the one who had just killed his own father was laying in the snow, eating you out like a starved man.

You screamed as you arched your back, feeling a warm tingle in your belly getting hotter and hotter. You were moving your hips against his lips without being aware of it, moaning Alastor’s name again and again.

And then you snapped.

Your whole body was shaking as you moaned his name so loudly you would be embarrassed if you cared. Your hips were twitching as Alastor recolted your sweet release with his tongue.  He leaned back with his charming smile; his lips and chin wet because of your pleasure and yet, he still had blood on his face. He looked devilishly breathtaking.

“ How is my wife feeling?” he smirked as he stared at you. You were breathing hard, tears falling down your eyes. You weren’t feeling nervous anymore, at all. You wanted him completely.

“ I want you.” you sat up slowly, taking your bra off, and shivered when you saw his eyes fall on your chest. You approached him slowly, pressing your chest against his naked torso and kissed him. You could taste yourself and blood on his lips. It was.. It was weird but not disgusting. You forced him to sit as you straddled his laps, kissing him with more vigor. You pressed your pelvis against his hard clothed member. You shivered as you imagined him inside of you.

Alastor inside of you.

That thought could have made you orgasmed once more.

You leaned back to watch his face. His cheeks were flushed, his breathing hard but he was staring at your face, his pupils dilated and this oh so delicious glint that was only for you. His madness was for you and only you. You nipped at his lips, staring at his eyes. You wanted to pleasure him like he just did, you wanted to show him how he meant to you. You remembered reading a book about sucking a man’s shaft. You leaned back, looking down on his clothed member. 

Sucking Alastor’s cock.. Yes, it was something you wanted…

“ You thought about your books.” 

“ N-no– Well, yes, but I want to.. if you want of course.. Do what you have done to me… I want to suck your… Well..” you blushed looking away. He took your face with his hand while the other was playing with your clit. You moaned, staring at his smiling face. He leaned toward your ears.

“ No. Maybe next time you will not think about your books.”

You tried to complain but you just moaned louder, gripping his shoulder, as he slowly entered you with one finger. He was playing with you ! 

“ Please… I really want it..!” you tried to convince him. You wanted to see Alastor lose control over himself because of you.

“ No my dearest, that’s your punishment for thinking about something other than us.” He grinned at you. You frowned and bit his neck as hard as you could, making him groan. You were moving your hips against his hands, his palm grinding against your clit as you bit him on his shoulder again and again.

You squealed as Alastor pinned you underneath him, breathing hard. You tried to take off his belt, making chuckle at your eagerness. He took off his belt slowly, making you whine impatiently. 

You gasped as you saw his hard shaft. You could feel your vagina clench around nothing as you looked at what was supposed to go inside of you. You bit your lips, laying down on the snow while staring at Alastor, spreading your legs.  You wanted him. You wanted him so much you felt like losing yourself to madness.

“ Darling…” he whispered and he pressed himself against you. You kissed his lips multiple times, your arms around his shoulder. You tensed as you felt him enter you very carefully. It was.. a strange feeling actually. You tilted your head back as Alastor was kissing your neck, trying to make you feel something else than what you were feeling between your legs. 

It wasn’t… that hurtful. You groaned as you tense your legs around his hips.It was manageable. You just needed time to adjust. You moaned as Alastor bit your neck, stopping his hips. He kissed your lips easily making you forget the pain between your legs.

You began to move your hips and smiled against his lips as you felt no pain.

“ Are you okay..?” you felt Alastor ask against your lips, a sweet whisper that made you feel safer than anything else. You were in the woods, having your virginity taken on the dirtied floor and yet, you couldn’t feel happier.

“ I’ve never felt better.” you whispered back against his lips. He smiled at you before kissing you languishly. You moaned against his lips as you felt his back’s muscles flexed against your nails. You were enveloped with his scent, his body, everything. He was inside you, in the deepest part of your body. He was panting against your skin, his hips moving faster. 

You scratched his back, marking him as yours. You both were one. In body and soul. You tilted your head back against the snow as your moans were getting louder and louder. Alastor was the only thing you could feel. The only thing you wanted to feel. You didn’t know where your own body started or where Alastor’s body ended. 

Hearing him groaned because of you was thrilling. This man who used to be so composed even when killing a man was having no control over his own body because of you. Those thoughts made you snap.

You felt your walls clenched around his shaft as you came around him once more. You heard him swear as you locked your legs around him, making him unable to escape from you.

“ Darling…” he chuckled breathlessly. “ I’m at my limit…” he panted, his member twitching inside you.

“ I want you to come inside me.” you plead.

His pupils dilated before he bit you on your chest, where your heart was beating. You sighed with delight as you felt him release his semence, moving his hips until every drop of his seed was settled inside you. You were stroking his back, like a silent apology for the marks you have made. Alastor was breathing against your chest, stroking your waist. Both of you stayed like this, sweaty, in a comfortable silence until you couldn’t take it.

You giggled before laughing loudly.

Alastor looked at you, amused with raised eyebrows. You smiled at him, kissing him once more on his lips.

“ I’m just happy..” you said, caressing the side of his face. He took your hand and kissed it, staring at you.

“ So am I.” 

You looked at him as he left your warm entrance. You were beginning to feel the cold weather now. Alastor helped you dress up, winking at you when you blushed because you could feel his sperm sliding down your thighs. Alastor walked toward the dead man.

Oh yes, you killed someone.

He crouched in front of his deceased father.

“ Darling, you should go back home. I’ll take care of the … leftovers.”

You walked toward him, embracing him from behind.

“ You don’t need my help?”

“ You already help me, dearest. I’ll just enjoy one last moment with my father. Go back to my Mother, she must be worried.”

You really didn’t want to be separate from Alastor. Not after everything that happened. Alastor must have sensed it because he kissed your ringed hands before standing up. You nodded at him, kissing him one last time before going back to his house. You did try to find the fawn that had miraculously helped you, but unfortunately you didn’t meet it during your way back.

You opened the door, you would have to explain to Marie why you looked like a bloodied mess. You walked toward the kitchen, you could hear the shower so Marie must be bathing right now. You saw two plates with a note. It was from Marie, she had written that she kept two plates for the both of you.

The both of you.

There was yours and Alastor’s name written on the paper.

You smirked before putting the note in the fire, destroying a possible clue.

Marie knew her husband wouldn’t come home, that’s why there wasn't a third plate.

You had to calm Marie down when she saw the state of your face. You laughed as she treated you but you reassured her. You were as capable as a nurse now, you have been treating your father since he came back from war. Those were nothing to worry about.

You could see her hands shaking but you both didn’t address the elephant in the room. She did pause when she was cleaning the blood from your face and neck.

“ Is that a.. hickey dear..?”

You blushed furiously making her giggled at you. You hid your face behind your hands as Marie was laughing affectionately at you. She took your hand and looked at your ring.

“ So, now, you are my daughter in law?” you giggled as you both began to talk about a wedding reception. You talked for hours, only stopping when Alastor entered the house. It was already dawn time but you weren’t feeling tired. He smiled at his mother and you knew it was time for you to go. They had to share this moment together. You stood up saying you were going home, refusing Alastor’s demand to accompany you home.

You hugged Marie and kissed Alastor cheeks. You wouldn’t kiss him in front of his Mother! But as you stepped out of the door, you were being tugged against a warm familiar chest, you closed your eyes as you felt his lips on yours. You smiled softly at him, caressing his cheek with your ringed hands that he kissed.

He let you go as you walked home. Your nose wasn’t broken and your bruises weren’t visible yet, and from what you saw in the mirror, you could always tell people you fell down the stairs because of the ice. You entered your house quietly, everyone was still sleeping, perfect.

You walked toward your bedroom, smiling like a fool. You undressed yourself and looked at your body in front of the mirror. You had hickeys on your chest, neck and thighs. You blushed as you saw white semence dripping from your vagina. 

You really did it… You needed to tell Alice tomorrow ! 

After washing up you fell asleep as easily as usual. You woke up around 11am, which surprised your mother when she saw you already dress up. You kissed her cheek with a big grin.

“ Where is dad?”

“He went to work, why?” she asked before screaming out of shock when you showed her your ring. “ It’s from Alastor, right? Of course it is ! Oh my baby !” she hugged you, crying from emotion. You felt tears in your eyes too. You didn’t know why but telling your mother you were getting married was… it was moving. She was already naming brands for your wedding dress.

You talked with your mother for hours before you decided it was time to tell Alice. You went out, making sure the hickeys weren’t visible. You talked toward Alice’s mansion, greeting the butler that was now used to you. You were brought to the living room, waiting for your friend. 

But you were surprised when you saw her coming with… Alizée was it? You stood up as Alice hugged you. You looked at Alyzée who seemed uncomfortable. Why was she here? Alice took the woman's hand and forced her to sit on the sofa. Well, you weren’t going to force her to leave, you didn’t know her, your only knowledge was from Alastor: she was the mayor’s daughter.

You talked with Alice, trying to coat Alyzée to talk with you which, after some time, she did seem more comfortable with your presence.

“ But I came here for news that will please you, I’m sure.” you smirked as Alice stood up.

“ Do I need to bring the wine?”

“ Yes.”

She clapped her hands, calling for a butler to bring three glasses and two bottles of wine. You laughed as the butler came with Alice’s order. She waited for the butler to leave before serving you and Alyzée a drink.

You waited for Alice to take a sip of wine before showing your ring. She spat on the table before screaming while Alyzée was smiling widely, clapping her hands together. You laughed as Alice shook your shoulder, looking at the ring then shook your shoulder once again. Alyzée congratulated you with a beaming smile making you feel relieved. 

You might have felt some jealousy for the beautiful woman in the past but not anymore.

You drank glasses and glasses of wine as you explained how you got married without the gory details. Quickly enough, there were three drunk women in the living room.

“ But we didn’t just get married.” you giggled drunkenly. You showed them your neck, decorated by Alastor hickeys. Alice shouted while Alyzée was whistling.

“ Oh my girl!” Alice hugged you before sitting back down. “ If we are going on with secrets, I might have something to say!” she raised her glass as you and Alyzée stared at her curiously. “ I… I am in love with someone and we are in a secret relationship.” 

You choked on your wine as Alyzée spat in on the floor. 

“ What? When? Who?” you struggled to speak as you tried not to cough. Alice put her glass on the table and watched you, her face flushed from the alcohol but she seemed worried.

“ I hope you won’t hate me after this.” she said before kissing the Alyzée on the lips.

Alice was kissing Alyzée.

Alice was in a relationship with Alyzéee.

A woman.

…

Alice was in love!

The two women separated themselves, looking at each other with love. You felt tears in your eyes as you stood up, making Alice stand up too with a worried expression. You ran toward her and hugged her, crying. Your best friend was in love, she was happily in love. You cried harder as you felt Alice sobbed against you.

“ I was so afraid you would see me as a disgusting being.” she cried as you hugged you tighter against you.

“ No, I would never!” you said before wiping your eyes. You looked at Alyzée and hugged her too. You knew it would be difficult for them to be in a relationship but you would help them in any way you could!

The evening went one, you’ve got to know Alyzée who was a very intelligent woman, a little more down to earth than Alice but maybe it was better for your best friend. You looked at the windows, it was already night time and you didn’t remember the last time you were this drunk.

“ Miss, you have a guest.”

Alice looked at the butler, confused. The butler stepped aside and your soon to be husband walked into the living room. You smiled with delight as he thanked the butler who closed the door behind him.

“ Ladies, good evening.”

You stood up, trying to run toward him but everything was spinning. Alastor walked quickly toward you and made you sit down.You giggled as you nuzzled against him. You wanted to tell him about Alyzée and Alice but it was not your choice to make. The four of you began to talk, whiskey was brought to Alastor as you all gossip about what was going on in New Orleans.

“ I hope one day, I will be able to marry you Alyzée…” whined Alice, as she hugged her girlfriend. Alyzée just smiled sadly before kissing the crown of her head. You looked at Alastor who drank his whiskey, he didn’t seem surprised or disgusted. “ I’m jealous Alastor is getting married before me! When you arrived, I thought you both had a fight! I mean, you don’t even wear your necklace!”

You paled as your hand went toward your neck.

The necklace.

You left it there.

“ Well, let's just say my fiancée left it at my house,” said Alastor with a calm face. He took something out of his pocket and you almost cried from relief as you saw your necklace dangling from his fingers.” So I came here to give it back to her.”

You sighed in relief. Thank god Alastor was there.

The  night went on as Alastor played the piano while Alice was forcing Alyzée to dance with her. You laughed as you sat next to Alastor, singing while he played. You stared at the ladies dancing with each other, their gazes never drifting from each other. You felt sad, knowing you would get married soon but your best friend might never have this chance. You didn’t know if Alastor felt what you were feeling, but he never stopped playing the piano and you never stopped singing, leaving the two ladies having their own fragile moments.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor

[irndad]

kiss me (under the milky twilight)- s.r.

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry! based on this post- reader has an ex that she keeps running back to, and spencer just wants her to see him. fake dating and hijinks ensue. VERY long. 4.6k words!! thanks to @fadingplaidtrashpatrol for ur thoughts and ideas!! masterlist // ask

The unraveling begins on a Friday. 

This is one of the rare Fridays where a full weekend is staring back at them, and Spencer is immeasurably pleased at his plans. He’s rented a Russian old movie, and his best friend had agreed to sit next to him on his shitty old couch while he whispers translations in real-time.

He loves spending time with her, a little hedonistically. She’s so kind, warm in both spirit and disposition, and Spencer treasures the time he gets to spend with her. Her desk adjoins his, and so one might assume that he could tire of her presence, but there’s something a little addicting about her, something he tries to have as often as he can. 

On this fine evening, she’s wearing an oversized sweater tucked into jeans- her position is mainly out of the field, and so she takes full advantage of the dress-code flexibility. Lovely earrings hang around her face, adorning her lovely features like a frame. 

Spencer’s more than a little in love with her. 

This has never really been a convenient fact, but Spencer’s used to wanting things he can’t have. And it was never really feasible not to want her- anyone who’s ever been in her presence would know this. It’s a foreign feeling, looking over at someone he’s lucky enough to know, and wanting them enough for that desire to turn into fantasy. 

“Spencer!” She greets him warmly, standing up to do so- if this wasn’t a workplace, if she was meeting him at the cafe like they do on Wednesdays, or his home, like she often finds herself in whenever he invites her, Spencer is certain she would wrap her arms around him in an incredibly warm hug. 

Because they are in the BAU, she believes it is inappropriate to embrace this way (which Spencer would argue isn’t true, given the way Morgan and Penelope are with each other, but if he told her that, it might be a little too obvious how desperate he is for her to touch him.)

The way she beams at him almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her. 

“I got you something,” he says in lieu of a response, clutching the bag of muffins in one hand. He’d woken up early to get her to stop by her favorite bakery, and it was worth it to see that look on her face. No one’s in the office now, the day long finished, and they’re getting ready to walk to his place. He lives so close by, and he’s grateful for this fact when they walk together back to his place. 

She grabs the bag, and he’s just so endeared by her, the giddy expression written over her lovely face.

“Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do. You need to marry me, immediately.” She says to him, eyes closed in bliss, and even though she’s clearly joking, Spencer finds himself preening at her praise- wouldn’t it be incredible if she meant that? It sounds so pretty in her voice. I love you. 

He beams back at her, in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how much he wants. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he says back, his heart in his throat. 

“I have some news that you are going to be incredibly mad at me about.” She says, and a crumb is on her painted lip, and fantasy of kisses that he cannot have enters Spencer’s mind before he can shake it away.

“I could never be mad at you.”

“I think I have to raincheck tonight,” she says almost sadly, her voice apologetic, as though she has no choice in the matter.

“Is everything okay?”

He had picked up her favorite snacks yesterday night, tidied up his apartment top to bottom. 

“Josh texted me- he’s going through something and he needs me to come over-“

“He doesn’t need you to come over.” 

He rarely interrupts her, and he usually isn’t capable of being upset with her. He’s not really even upset with her now, but this is so exhausting, watching her deal with this asshole. 

It is a continuous surprise to Spencer that someone like her can be in a position like this.

Through Spencer’s eyes, the idea that anyone can not be in love with her is almost an impossibility. It’s not even his bias alone that makes him think this- it’s the truth of her. 

Josh is an asshole finance bro who works in the city center, and Spencer hates him more than most serial killers. 

He’s fucking careless with the thing Spencer wants the most in the world. Josh knows what it’s like to be with her, to be the person to falls asleep with her in his arms.  

Sometimes when Spencer can’t sleep, which is quite often, he pictures her soft cheek on her chest, pictures what she would feel like entwined with his own body, legs tangled with his and her fingers in his hair. It’s a sacred thing, this image- even though it isn’t real, Spencer knows he values the imagination of her presence more than Josh gives his attention to the real thing. 

They’ve “gotten together” and “broken up” and “started talking again” about 12 times respectively.

Spencer could kill him.

“Spence,” she sighs, shaking him out of his angry stupor, “please don’t be mad at me. He’s really going through something right now- he needs someone to be around. Besides,” she breathes out, “I can’t dump him. 

“Why is that?” He tries to temper his tone, but the memory of her mascara running down her cheeks as she sobs in his arms shoots through his mind, and manifests as a physical sharp pain in his chest. 

“That wedding is coming up,” she murmurs, looking down at her shoes. They’re scuffed, and Spencer thinks she might be embarrassed. Why should she be? He’s the asshole. “I told people I was going to have a date. Do you know how many people are going to be there, Spence? How many people are expecting me to bring my boyfriend?”

Her best friend is getting married. Spencer knows this because she’s told him, and told him gleefully when Josh had agreed to go with her. Spencer remembers thinking that he’d like to punch a wall.

Anyway. 

She’s the last of her friend group that’s not in a long term relationship, and in some twisted way, he kind of gets how Josh would be better than nothing, if you didn’t want to be seen as alone. 

“You don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah, Spence.”

“I could go with you.”

It escapes his mouth without his permission, and he regrets it almost instantly. Because there’s no fucking way she’d go with him. He’s lanky and awkward and his blazers never fit and his ties are always tied wrong, and she’s beautiful and wonderful in ways he finds new ways to see everyday. He’s not a solution to her being worried about how she’s seen, he’d only make it worse-

“You would do that for me?” Her voice is small as she asks, and it shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks down at her, eyes softening at her lovely face. She looks touched, and he has to wonder, doesn’t she know?

He’d do anything for her. 

“Of course,” he breathes out, a nervous hand playing with the strap of his bag, “If it gets you to stop giving that asshole the time of day, I’d do it a million times.”

Her face shifts in a way he can’t read, and she swallows. 

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I want to,” he says, “Please. It would be fun, C’mon. You’re always saying I need to get out there and do things.”

“Being my fake boyfriend at my friend’s wedding is not getting out there and doing things,” she pouts, and his heart nearly jumps. It’s pathetic, but hearing her refer to him as her any kind of boyfriend is intoxicating. He wants to hear it, over and over. 

“It’ll be fun,” he says, touching her hand as it rests on the table, making intentional eye contact. She has been prettiest eyes. “C’mon, let me do this for you. I’m sick of this guy.”

She gulps again, an endearingly confusing gesture, and he finds the feeling a little desperate. Pick me, choose to be with me, even if it’s just pretend. 

“He’s going to be there anyway,” she breathes out biting her lip in a nervous gesture, “I- I’d owe you so much, Spence. It would make him jealous, I think.”

It’s a little hedonistic, how much he would enjoy that, he thinks. Someone would see her as his girl. He knows she might be doing this to get Josh’s attention, but still- the evening together seems like too lovely of a thing to turn down- too wonderful of a chance to not offer. He’d take a night of pretend over never getting to be with her at all. 

It’s enough to make him ignore that making Josh jealous is probably the reason she’s saying yes. 

“Okay, okay! Spencer, will you do me the honor of taking me to Julie’s wedding?”

“I would be honored. 

The weeks approaching the wedding are a bit of sweet torture. She’d had the idea that they could practice, whatever that meant, and the memory of it lives in his mind rent free. They’d been watching the movie, already touchier than most would allow of best friends. (She’s his best, Spencer’s just the tiniest bit resentful of Julie). 

She’d been sitting next to him on his worn out couch, her legs thrown across his, and true to his word, he was whispering the translation along to the movie. She smiled at him, watching his mouth move instead of the movie, and he felt tingly under her stare. How wonderful and bright it is, to be under her gaze. He kept speaking even though she wasn’t watching, because he imagines that if he stops, she might look away. 

Then, she had held his hand. 

Grabbed it really, fingers lacing with his own, and Spencer’s brain had short circuited. She has soft hands, he had thought to himself, and it was about the only thing he could manage to think. 

“We should practice,” she had whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the lowlight of his home, “Y’know, so people believe us.”

He didn’t say that he’s pretty sure no one needed to be convinced he’s in love with her. 

“Sure,” he had nodded, and squeezed her hand, “I think that’s a great idea.”

So they’ve been practicing. 

This has been in equal measures wonderful and torturous. She walks with him to work on half the days, with her fingers twined with his own, and Spencer finds it intoxicating that any passerby would assume he belongs to her. 

More than he already does, anyway. 

Her affection is her own, just turned up to 11. She’s gorgeous- this is a fact that was not instrumental in his love of her, but ornamental- still, this is hard to ignore when she touches him as much as she does now. When she’s out with the team at the bar, she rests her hand on the small of his back- he preens every time at this. This is simple, her domesticity, her claiming his presence as her own- it’s more than nice, Spencer realizes. It’s wonderful, to be wanted by her. Even if it’s not real.

On this night, they’re celebrating. They caught the unsub before he’d been able to kill his first victim. This is a rarity in their field, and she’d given the interview that had gotten the confession. It’s the closest to field work she’d gotten, and they’re all celebrating their win. Her win. 

She looks like a figment of imagination, lovely in a way he literally cannot believe he didn’t conjure up in fantasy. Her favorite song is playing out of pure serendipity, and Spencer likes that word for her. She is serendipitous as a whole. 

“Do you want something to drink, honey?” The endearment feels warm and natural as it comes out of his mouth. His hand is resting on the small of her waist, and he knows he’s being egregious with the practice thing. But this is so nice, her leaning into him, one drink deep and touchier than she is tipsy, and he loves this. He loves that under this pretense, he gets to know what she feels like in his arms. 

He hands her the water before she gets to answer, and she happily sips it. 

“Are you proud of me, Spence?” Her voice is immeasurably fond and he drinks it in like a man starved. 

“Of course,” he smiles at her. I’m always proud of you, he thinks. “You did so well, love.”

He’s not used to endearments, but she showers him in them. Before their little pretending, too. Called him dove, honey, darling. Packed an emergency lunch in his go bag in case he forgot his. She’s such a good friend, and he wants to be her lover more with each breath. 

He tries to return them, now. 

“Good,” she says serenely, looking at him in a way that kills him, because he will never, ever kiss her. She can hold him, and look at him like that, and he will never get to be with her, “I think my cider is too sour,” she scrunches her nose, and his heart swoops. 

“I’ll get you something sweeter, baby.”

“Yeah you will!” He hears Morgan laugh, and he flushes bright red. No one seems surprised, by how touchy they’d been. Even Hotch- he’d expected a talk, but then got a stern nod of understanding in its stead. 

She sips the sweet drink he got her, a little cherry on the step, and he thinks he’d do anything to keep looking at her. 

Five weeks to the wedding. 

He can do this. 

“Could you do me a favor, Garcia? I come bearing gifts.” 

Spencer’s snuck into her office- there’s not much to do today, but she hadn’t wanted to take PTO for no reason, so here she is, in her feathered and pink glory. 

“Is that a hot chocolate? From Dominicks? Ooh, you play dirty, Dr. Reid.” Penelope almost squeals, and despite his nefarious purposes, he finds himself joyful- it’s alwaysgood to talk to her. 

After a joyful, eyes closed and serene sip, she asks, “Alright, my sweet furry friend, what can I do for you?”

“Could you check on a Josh Collins for me?”

“Isn’t that your girl’s ex?”

“No,” Heat rises to his cheeks, before he can help it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh, and my favorite color is black.” Penelope scoffs back, but begins typing furiously anyway. 

He needs to know what is so fascinating about this guy. Because lately he can’t figure it out. He’s always fucking hated the guy, even though he’s never met him. He never had to- she’d shown up enough times at Spencer’s door crying, been broken up with and brought back enough to know that this guy is awful. Doesn’t even come close to deserving the woman that she is. 

“He’s a financial analyst at a Marketing firm, went to state school for his Bachelor’s, says here that he played football in college, but I don’t think they met until after,” she says, “Oh, he has a scuba license. And skydiving! Looks like he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”

It’s an evil thought. Is that what she likes? He finds it hard to imagine, picturing the moments where she’s wrapped up in his arms on a movie night- that always seemed to be her preference. In, not out. 

“Is that him?”

There’s a picture of him on Penelope’s screen. Josh is chiseled and strong, smiling brightly in a polo on a jet ski- this is a photo posted on his social media, and Spencer has met a million of this guy. They bullied him in school. Spencer as genius and he’s a lot of things, but that will never be one of them. It’ll never, ever be him. 

Good to know, anyway. Better not to fantasize about what he knows he can’t have. 

On the day of the wedding, it’s actually a 6 hour drive. She’d offered to get them plane tickets, but he enjoyed his time with her. He was also desperate to extend the time until the wedding was over, and she’s probably the only person he wants to be trapped in a car with. 

They’re sharing a hotel room. She’s booked two beds, which he’s honestly grateful for- if they’d shared a bed, he might’ve combusted. 

Still, there is so much intimacy. She sings in the shower. He imagines a world where he’d know that in domesticity, where after a night spent in laughter and something like love, she showered in his home. But that’s not how he knows it. He knows it because he’s at her best friend’s wedding, pretending to be her boyfriend. 

When she comes out of her bedroom, she’s gorgeous. 

She’s got a green and purple dress on, a cinched waist and a sweetheart neck, a dash of plum lipstick on her lovely pout, and he’d like to kiss that smile very, very much. She’s a delicate kind of lovely, saturated in sweetness, and it’s sweet torture to have her this close.

“You look...” He struggles to find words, an uncommon occurrence in his life, “Like a vision.”

It’s sentimental and warmer than he wished he sounded, but god- she’s stunning. She looks like she’s made of old film, beautiful in that way that’s just a bit too good to be true. He adores her more with each breath.

“You think it’s okay?” She speaks to him with her doe eyes adorned with a concerned expression. He wants to kiss it away.

“You look lovely,” he says, a vast underselling.

The ceremony is a lovely affair, and Spencer learns that she cries at weddings. The bride and groom have lovely, saccharine vows, and Spencer tries not to picture a wedding that he will never get to have. 

It’s a little bit impossible with her at his side. 

She’s touchier now, even mores then when they were ‘practicing’. Her hands are warm laced with his own, her head leaning on his shoulder, and he feels lucky to have even a piece of getting to be with her. 

At the reception, she is tackled by her friends, and he performs dutifully as the caring boyfriend. It’s not hard.

It’s a lovely night. His arms glued to the small of her waist, and he’s been introduced as her “genius FBI agent boyfriend” many times tonight. He turns bright red every time. 

“This is my boyfriend, he’s the smartest ever,” she brags when she’s half a drink deep, and he cherishes the ability to draw circles on the small of her back in this moment- his words fail him in moments of praise, and touch is an avenue that he is rarely allowed to use.

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-“

“Which is a thing that humble geniuses say.” 

So he’s having a great tine. 

Her lipstick is transfer-free, and his cheek is proof. She’s so affectionate his heart keeps doing somersaults. There’s a signature cocktail with some pun in the couples name.

“I’m fucking obsessed with these, Spence,” she says, a light airiness to her voice that he recognizes as her tipsy voice, “Can you get me another, my love?”

“Yes, honey.” He smiles at her, and kisses the crown of her hair before leaving her in the company of her friends. He’s indulging a bit too much, he’s aware. He’s going to have to give up this up when the sun rises, like some fucked up fairytale where Cinderella never gets the guy because she’s not worthy of it without the pretense.

“Could I get the house cocktail?” Spencer asks the bartender, flashing a smile at her with the giddiness of knowing he will return to her.

Spencer had nearly forgotten that part of the reason he was here was because of Josh. 

Who is at the bar.

“Hey man- you’re the dude she brought, right?” 

Josh is actually about 2 inches shorter than Spencer, and Spencer makes the most of this difference. He’s a broad chested muscle man, but he looks woefully underwhelming. 

“Yeah, I’m the lucky guy.” Spencer replies in a deadpan tone, turning to face him with a stony expression. 

“Careful, man,” Josh says, and it’s a little pathetic how he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care, “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’d leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.”

“Whatever, dude. It’s clear that she just brought someone to make me jealous.”

“Actually, while I can’t read her mind, I imagine you’ve slipped hers entirely. Clearly your entire energy is based in whatever ego-driven shell your youth has shaped you into- and maybe one day someone will care enough about whatever tragedy made you the way you are, but I am deeply uninterested, and I’d wager she is too.”

He’s not sure if this is true, but Spencer’s noticed that in the time since their ruse has begun she hasn’t mentioned Josh. Not once. She might not love Spencer,  but she might not see Josh anymore. 

“Also, if you ever speak disrespectfully of my girlfriend again I promise you it will not end well for you.”

His voice is even and has an underlaying of quiet rage. It’s wonderful to call her that, even more so as she enters into his eye line.

“You looked mad,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her nimble arms wrapping around his waist with fluid ease, “Is everything okay?” 

It’s only then she sees Josh, and there’s something wonderful about knowing that she came here to check on him. Josh is about to say something, he can tell even though he’s only visible in the corner of his vision. 

It’s a calculated risk but he chooses to do it anyway. 

When he kisses her, he doesn’t know what to expect. It falls into line like puzzles into place, one of her hands falling to his waist and the other cradling his jaw with a delicate softness. She leans into him totally and this is an intoxicating feeling- her lips are so, so soft and it’s what he’s been fantasizing about since she first smiled at him and asked him to keep going when he was rambling about Russian literature. 

It’s actually better. 

When she pulls back, she scans the space. Josh is gone.

“Well that had the intended effect,” he says- it seems better than anything else, like confessing that the only reason he did it was that he could. He kissed her. 

She nods, clearly a bit frazzled, and fuck-

“I should have asked, fuck, I’m sorry-“

“No, no, you’re okay, um-thanks for getting rid of him.”

Her voice is hollow. 

Despite the awkwardness of the kiss, which Spencer cannot stop thinking about.

Did he imagine it, or did she lean in? Did she sigh into it? How is he going to ever get over the fact that he’s never going to do that again?

Her lipstick is grape flavored. Now they both know that. 

They get back to the hotel at half past midnight, and she’d been a little distanced- not so much they still didn’t look like a couple, but enough that Spencer knows. They’re winding down the artificial love affair, and all of the things he’s become kind of addicted to are going to go away. Her fingers running through the tendrils of his hair, her delicate fingers rubbing tiger balm on his temples when he’s got his migraines. Her cheek kisses, the honeys, my loves, sweethearts. 

Kissing her. 

When she drops her bag on the hotel bed and sits on the edge of it, he sits next to her. She’s been quieter, since the kiss. 

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” she replies, bumping her knee with his in fondness. 

“I’m sorry I surprised you with, you know.”

“Kissing me?”

“I should have asked- I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset that you kissed me,” she says, looking down at her shoes, “I’m upset that you only did it because you wanted to spite Josh.”

“What?”

“I know that this is my problem, Spence,” she says, “You never… led me on, you know? I know that this was always my thing to deal with. Being in love with you was never something that I thought would be a problem. But when you offered to go with me- to pretend to be my boyfriend, how could I pass that up?”

This makes no sense.

“I know,” she runs her fingers through her hair in a frustrated motion, “I know that it was never a good idea. But the idea of getting to be with you was just too much to turn down, even it it wasn’t the real thing. And now we’re going back to normal and I promise that I will go back to being your friend. It might take me a second, though-I might need some space.”

She needs space from him? Because she can’t transition away from being his fake girlfriend?

“You don’t need space from me.”

He’s so fucking bad at talking. 

“Spencer-“

“No, no,” because now he has a shot- now  there’s a reality where the pit in his chest doesn’t have to live there forever. He can be with her. Because for some crazy, insane reason, she wants him. “You don’t need space from because I don’t want space from you, okay?”

He sits next to her on the bed, eyes a little crazed with want with nowhere to go. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Her voice is tempered, and he thinks he hears hope. 

“I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I’ve known you,” he grabs her hand-it feels desperate to say and he sure he sounds it, “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to spite him. I did it because I couldn’t live with the idea that I would spend the rest of my life never have kissed you.”

He probably would say more- so many things are coming to mind, most of which are pleading. She’s the only thing he’s ever wanted this much. Before he gets to, though, she kisses him. 

It’s sudden, as all things of this nature are, but he pulls her close on instinct. She ends up on his lap, her hands around his neck, and it is so rare that fantasy lives up to reality. But this is better, the feeling of the weight of her pressed against him and the taste of her grape lipstick. 

It’s a minute when she pulls back, and it takes everything to not chase the contact.

“I love you too,” she says, the sweetness of it dripping from the sound of it. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again.

“For real?”

“For real.” 

When the run rises in the morning that follows, he’s wrapped around the length of her like a vice, right and close to him, Her head rests on his chest, and while there is another bed there, it’s clearly not seeing any use.

He’s never slept better in his life. 

[dante-mightdie]

pup!141x pup!reader x owner!price didn’t hurt enough please make me cry

okay but remember you asked for it

c/w: just pure angst/no comfort, hybrid!au

you’d lost your spark recently in the past few weeks. your usual bouncy, playful self was now reduced to a melancholy shell of what you used to be. you spend your days curled up in bed, your favourite toy clutched in your arms as you stare blankly at the wall

no one had really paid you any mind. simon, johnny and gaz were far too busy with their new playmate and you had a funny feeling that she was gonna be more permanent than price claimed

speaking of price, he’d tried to liven you up. take you on walks, buy you toys or offer you treats but you just didn’t seem too interested. far too distraught over your pack basically disowning you

so he left you he for a couple of weeks, hoping that you’d break yourself out of this rut. until, one morning when you awoke to the sound of your leash clinking around your collar and the sight of john crouching next to your bed

“c’mon, love. we’re going a for a drive…” he said, offering you a closed lip smile. you tried to protest, snuggling further into your bed but he wasn’t having it. he gave your leash a firm tug, not even to hurt but enough to get you moving, albeit begrudgingly

the drive was silent, an uncomfortable feeling in the air. as if you were driving towards your own demise. you leant your head against the window, watching the buildings fly past as you keep your favourite toy clutched in your lap. the one john got for you when he first bought you home

in the corner of your eye, you can see him glance at you every once in a while. you’re sure there’s a frown on his face each time. you ponder where he could be taking you, probably to the park like he’d tried before in the past few weeks

but your wondering didn’t last long as you soon approached your destination. you feel your heart drop in your chest, am your head perking up for the first time during the whole car journey as the dull building comes into view

a pet shelter

you snap your head at john when he parks the car, hands trembling in your lap as you head starts running through all the possibilities as to why he’s bought you here but your brain can only come up with one singular reason

“john? I-I don’t understand…” you stutter, eyes watering up with tears. your breathing picks up with a panicked rhythm meanwhile john can’t even look at you when he utters up a response

“I’m so sorry, love…” he says, shaking his head slightly as he looks down at his lap. he doesn’t waste anymore time as he soon begins climbing out of the car, coming round to your side and pulling you out with a gentle tug of your leash

you dig your heels into the concrete, adamant you’re not moving when he tries to take you inside. pleas and begs leaving your mouth as tears begin to slip down your cheeks. john’s face is stoic as he collects you in his arms, walking inside where he’s met with a woman ready and waiting to take you off of his hands

there’s a kind sympathetic smile on her face when john places you at her feet but you don’t care as you wrap your arms around his leg, preventing him from leaving. you sob and cry into his trouser leg

“please, don’t leave me here. I just wanna go home. I’ll be good, I promise. please, just don’t leave me here, john.” you wail, clinging onto him even as he leans down to undo your collar before slipping it into his pocket

“I’m sorry, love. you be a good girl, yeah?” he mumbles, placing a kiss to the top of your head before giving you one last smile. the look on his face indicates that he’s having a hard time getting through this without breaking himself

he says nothing more as he pries your hands off of him, the kind woman keeping a firm grip on your leash as you sob and reach for him. but you’re only granted a view of his back as he walks out the door and out of your life :(

[aperrywilliams]

I'm Sorry I Couldn't be Here for You Sooner (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: You have one of the worst days in a long time at work. When Spencer returns from an assignment to the BAU and sees your current state, he must do something.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Frustration/Hurt/Comfort. Just a self-indulgent rant. A lot of cuss words. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world.

A/N: I just need Spencer to hold me now.

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The clock ticks and ticks, but the time seems to stand still. Even if you don't know how long you have been looking at that piece of wood, plastic, and metal, it feels like an eternity.

In the distance, a voice keeps throwing out words and sentences to which you should pay attention. However, even if you tried, looking at the clock on the wall is still more interesting than hearing Hotch talking about new protocols for field agents.

Still lost in your head, you don't notice the meeting is over and people are starting to leave the room. Only when someone squeezes your forearm. It's JJ.

"Are you okay?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed. You look at her and blink a few times.

"Uh- yeah," you mumble. 

Are you okay? No, you're not. But why bother others with that?

On second thought, this may be a chance to spill what's on your mind. JJ is usually a forthcoming and wise person. 

"Well, actually-" you begin, but before saying anything else, JJ cuts you off.

"That's nice. Because I want to ask you if you can babysit Henry tomorrow night. Will invited me to a romantic dinner, and our babysitter is sick. Hope it doesn't make much trouble to you?" the blonde probes.

Okay, you didn't expect that.

Not in the mood to turn the subject back to you, you say yes, and after thanking you, JJ quickly leaves the conference room. Alone with your thoughts for a few seconds, you wonder if the tightness in your chest isn't an exaggeration. You decide to forget about it and go back to your desk.

Opening a folder with the information on the last case, you are ready to write your report. But not too so far on it, Emily approaches you.

"Hey, how are you?"

You have doubts about how to answer the question. A few minutes ago, when JJ asked, you lied to her, and she didn't even notice. Maybe it's good to be honest.

"Actually, not so good," you sigh. And Emily raises an eyebrow. 

"Yeah? What happened?"

"I just don't know, I don't feel good," you try to explain. But you're not sure how to do it either.

"I'm sure it's something you can manage," Emily muses. "Look, whatever it is, have a drink when you get home today, relax a little, and I bet you'll be as good as new tomorrow!"

You open and close your mouth several times, trying to get a word out, but nothing comes to mind. 

A drink and relax? Is that simple?

You let out a hum, and that's enough for a response to Emily.

After wishing you good luck, she heads down the hallway, presumably to Garcia's office.

It's clear that Emily didn't grasp your actual emotional state, but you don't blame her either.

The last case was hard for everyone, so there is no reason to take it personally.

Focusing on your report again, you expect the sour mood surrounding you to fade eventually.

To finish your paperwork, you need to make copies of the reports. So you get up and head to the copy machine. After carefully placing the papers in the tray, you press the start button. When you think it will start copying, the machine stops mid-scan. You frown, and after a few seconds of nothing, you press the 'start' button again. Nothing. You do it again. And again. It's not working, and you feel your blood running hot.

By pressing the button again and again, anger comes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid fucking machine!"

It's not enough to swat with force the button panel; now you're kicking the machine out of pent-up frustration.

"Whoa, whoa, stop right there, pretty girl."

Morgan steps between you and the machine, putting distance with his palms. And that's when you realize your outburst. Panting and still with the heat of rage on your cheeks, you are not yet satisfied.

"What the fuck, Morgan. Now you're defending a fucking copy machine?!" You hiss. Derek narrows his eyes to assess your current state. He's seen you mad, but it usually goes away easily. You are not a dense person.

"Okay, what's wrong, pretty girl? Since when do you unleash your frustration with pretty boy on inanimate things?"

Pretty boy. Spencer. Your boyfriend. Today, your boyfriend is conducting a cognitive interview with a convict in a DC jail—Hotch's orders. You wish he were here.

Morgan knows you usually laugh at his jokes, and even when you are in a bad temper, they help to light the mood.

Not this time, though.

"Don't talk about Spencer or me like that!" You snarl. "He doesn't have to do with any of this!"

Morgan doesn't like you are talking to him. Folding his arms over his chest, he let out an unamused scoff.

"Come on, don't you think you're overreacting here? Was this whole outburst only for a joke? What, are you four years old?"

You want to keep yelling, but a lump forms in your throat that is making it difficult for you to speak or even breathe. Morgan doesn't even wait for you to say something.

"You know what?" Morgan continues. "If you cannot stand the pressure of this job right now, maybe you should go home."

With that said and shaking his head in disappointment, Dereks leaves you there.

Stumped. Frustrated. Broken.

All the anger from moments before turns into an almost uncontrollable urge to cry. What have you done to these people? They are supposed to be your friends, your family. They are supposed to understand you and support you when you need them. And now that it's the time, they've only ignored you, minimized your problems, and even questioned your worth. Maybe Derek is right, and you should go home.

Defeated, you're strolling to your desk when Hotch peaks out of his office and gestures you to come.

Great, just what you needed now.

When you walk into your boss's office, he is already sitting in his chair, sternly looking at you.

"I won't ask you what's wrong with you today because it's your private life. However, I must remind you we are all professionals on this team. If you need time off, you have the right to get it, but I will not tolerate disrespect, like when you are distracted as I give fundamental instructions. If you don't pay attention, it could affect your work in the field and even put the lives of innocent people at risk."

If you didn't feel trampled before, now you feel like a ton of dirt was dumped on you.

You know Hotch can be sharp with words, but his ultimate goal is always to look after the team. But why does it feel like you're not part of that team right now?

"Do I make myself clear?"

With no more energy left in your body, you just let out a 'yes, sir.' Without waiting for another response, he sends you back to your desk.

It's already noon when you resume your work. Your mind spins at a mile an hour, and although it's hard, you force yourself to concentrate enough to get your job done, so at least the salary they pay you is worth it. 

Like a mollusk in its shell, you close yourself in that bubble and stop paying attention to your surroundings. It's your safe place—only you. 

In the distance, you feel your coworkers come and go. Never do you look up. Time goes by, and your throat feels dry from not speaking for hours.

Before everyone starts planning lunch, you are already picking up your lunch bag.

Social interaction is out of the table, so you are secluded in the building roof where an improvisated garden has benches. You sit alone, and the breeze helps to steady your breathing. As you open your Tupperware, you tentatively plunge the fork into the almost-cold pasta.

Even so, you're better here than in the bullpen minutes ago.

-----

Spencer walks through the doors of the BAU. It's 2 in the afternoon, so hopefully, the team is still having lunch in the conference room. Slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to reach you when he wanted to let you know he was on his way, he assumed that you had a lot of work and that your phone was mute.

Arriving at the conference room, Spencer scans the place and immediately catches something odd. You are not there. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch are, though.

With an eyebrow furrowed, he asks, "Where is she?"

His teammates perk their heads up.

"Hello to you, pretty boy," Morgan teases.

"How was the interview?" JJ asks.

"Did you eat? You still can sit with us," Prentiss offers.

"Did you get the interview done?" Hotch asks with a raised eyebrow.

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling about what's going on. He knows you weren't feeling so okay this morning, and even if he tried to convince you to take a sick day, you didn't let him.

"Neither of you responded my question," Spencer points, voice harsher than when he asked first.

"(Y/N)? I thought she went home," Morgan muses.

"Why would she do that?" Spencer questions, alarmed. "Something bad happened?"

"She said she was okay when I asked earlier," JJ explains. "Maybe she has an errand to do."

"She was way distracted when we were at the meeting in the morning. She didn't listen a thing of what I said," Hotch adds.

"And you sent her home?" Spencer directs his question to Hotch.

"No, I didn't. She didn't ask it either when I called her to my office."

"You called her to your office? Did you reprimand her?" Spencer asks in disbelief.

"Of course, I did it, Reid. She did something disrespectful to the team," Hotch defends.

"And considering her rage moment directed to the copy machine, maybe it's better if she went home," Morgan supplies.

"Why are you being so dramatic, Reid?" Emily questions, very confused about why Spencer is so upset.

Spencer huffs, frustration running in his veins.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Did you ever realize she wasn't doing okay and nobody took her seriously? Yeah, sure, she said she was okay, but did you really check on her? Did you really ask her what was wrong? Did someone listen to her?"

The people in the room go silent after Spencer scolds them. 

Did they help in any way?

"You are unbelievable, and you call yourself profilers," Spencer huffs, turning to exit the room in search of you.

"What are you doing, Reid?" Hotch asks. No turning around to face his boss, and halfway out, Spencer replies.

"The thing you should have done in the first place. And I don't care if it doesn't fall protocol, I can give you my resignation letter tomorrow."

-----

When Spencer reaches the building roof and sees you sitting on one of the benches, he lets out a sigh of relief. He suspected you might be there, considering your things were still on your desk.

You can't see it since your back is turned. Your eyes look at the horizon without focusing on anything in particular.

The breeze is nice despite the November weather in Virginia.

Not wanting to scare you, Spencer slowly approaches you as he clears his throat. You turn around and see him standing a couple of meters away from you, but close enough to see your eyes red from crying.

You know he noticed it, and you avert his gaze.

You don't like the idea of ​​looking vulnerable right now. The morning was already catastrophic enough to explain your current state of mind to Spencer.

Spencer is a man of many words. He is known for his diatribes on any topic at hand. So you expect some kind of rant or even some statistical data about what could be happening to you.

But contradicting his very nature, he just silently approaches, takes your hand to get you up from the bench, and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace.

And for the first time all day, you feel like you can actually breathe, and your chest isn't tight anymore. Words are not necessary; just being held like that is enough for now.

Spencer kisses the top of your head lovingly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you sooner. I'm sorry you had such a horrible morning," your boyfriend laments.

You shake your head, still buried in his chest.

Tears fight to come out from the corners of your eyes, and you no longer want to hold them back.

"Let it out, baby. Just let them out."

And that's what you do. For the first time all day, you allow yourself to cry without holding back. Spencer has you the entire time, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I don't know why I feel so bad, Spencer. I don't understand," you muffle your words into his embrace.

"It's okay, love. You don't have to explain to me, or anyone for that matter. There are days when we are not okay, and it's completely valid. Never think you don't have the right to."

Hearing Spencer say that relieves some of the pressure on your head, but you can't help but think about your teammates' words throughout the morning.

Separating yourself from Spencer to look at him, your eyes still denote your inner struggle.

"What if they are right? What if they are right when they say I shouldn't make so much fuzz and rather think about doing my job well?"

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.

"They are not. Okay? By any means, you are the most professional person I have ever met in my life. Not only that, you are also the most compassionate, selfless, and willing to help to the fullest extent of your capacity. Does JJ need help babysitting Henry? You don't think twice. Does García need assistance organizing a girls' night? You are the first one to be there. Does Hotch need to finish a stack of reports in one night? You offer to help him. Does Derek need a backup to kick his way into a place and catch the unsub? You're the first to watch his back."

You are indeed like that, and you do all that. But you've never seen it as something extraordinary. For you, being part of a team and a family means all that and more.

"And that doesn't even scratch the surface of what you have been to me.

My love, you have been the person who has entitled me to open my heart and love without reservation. You have taught me to trust and that asking for help when you feel bad is okay. You are the light of my life, and I swear I'll do everything in my power so you can see the wonderful person you are and that you deserve all the love and support in the world."

Without a doubt, Spencer has something with his words and eloquence. How can you not believe him? The veil of doubt indeed emerges from time to time, but having someone who is by your side showing you what is really important makes the doubts not cloud your path.

A shy smile appears on your face, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"There she is," Spencer whispers, stroking your cheek with love and never breaking eye contact.

"Maybe I should have listened to you this morning and called in sick," you sigh. Spencer kisses the top of your nose.

"I know you weren't going to do it anyway." 

You giggle because he's right. Spencer knows you too well.

"Lunchtime is almost over. We should come back to work," you remind him. Spencer pulls a face, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that?" You inquire.

Spencer laughs nervously. "It's just I may or may not have made a scene in the conference room earlier, and I may or may not have offered my letter of resignation to Hotch if he didn't allow me to come find you."

"You did what? Spencer, oh my God!" you start laughing. "Does that mean there's a chance we'll both get fired today?"

Spencer thinks about that for a second.

"Honestly? I don't think Hotch would risk losing his two best agents," he decides, winking at you.

"Hope you're right, Dr. Reid. Hope you're right," you voice, grabbing his hand in yours and making the way back to the sixth floor.

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: Part three is going to be when it gets juicy, this is just them becoming reacquainted. You’ll get the good angst in the next parts. Summary: Your dreams of stardom and fame have been blown away. Your old life is lost to the sands of this new world and you find yourself utterly confused. There’s a man who looks an awful lot like Cooper yelling at you, but it’s not the man you remember loving. Not anymore.

For two days he’s been following the sound of sirens. With no new bounties, he hasn’t got much else to do with his time. Plus, he’s hoping that maybe if he figures out what’s been causing all this noise he can shut it the fuck up. Didn’t matter how far he walked, the blaring wail was echoing across the whole damn wasteland. 

A cough started up in his chest, itching into his throat and rattling his whole body as it ripped its way out of him. He tried to walk through the discomfort but it wouldn’t let him. He leaned over, hands braced on his knees, and coughed so hard he could feel ass jerky coming back up from his “dinner” last night. He clamped a hand over his mouth and forced the bile down. Frantic hands dug through the bag on his side, shaking as he ripped the box open and grabbed his inhaler. 

It took a minute before the drugs had the desired effect, and even then he was still fighting back nausea. He’s got to find a new dealer, that bitch in Filly was watering down her supply and he knew it. Not just that, she was overcharging too, on account of his being a ghoul. 

Even in the apocalypse money still managed to rule the world. Even if it was in the form of Nuka caps. He walked a little further before leaning against a boulder for a break. He wiped spittle off his lips and surveyed his surroundings. 

There was a faded old billboard sunken into the sand, only half of it sticking out. The paper was curled and browned from age and the sun, but he could make it out well enough. Quench Your Thirst, it wasn’t one of hers, though. It was the girl they’d replaced her with. He contemplated shooting it, just so he wouldn’t have to stare at the girl anymore, but it was a waste of bullets. 

Instead, he pushed off the rock and forced himself to keep going. The noise was unbearable now, rattling around his brain and making his ears bleed the closer he got. He must be right on it, only a little while longer and he’d finally turn the damn thing off. 

He lifted a leathered hand to block the sun out of his eyes. He kept squinting, disbelieving in the sight before him. Vault 111 was sitting pretty among the skeletons and dunes of sand. It’s big white numbers upside down as the door was slid open, alarms ringing out and red flashing lights dancing around within the vault. 

He couldn’t believe it. Vault dwellers were practically extinct in the Wastelands, nevermind actually getting into their vaults. But here this one sat, open and ready for the taking. Normally, he wouldn’t risk it, even just to turn off those fucking alarms. But he had just used his last vial and if he didn’t get his hands on some good shit soon, well, best not to imagine it. 

Hand on his holster he started forward, eyes darting back and forth to make sure this wasn’t some sort of trap set by raiders. He didn’t imagine they were smart enough to do that, but apparently Muldaver’s been on the move, this could be her people’s doing. He’d rather not have to listen to someone whining on about a better life and a kind society. 

He’d believe it when he saw it. All people were capable of was greed and lust, it’s been the same before the bombs and it will be the same after. 

He stepped inside, eyes pained as they adjusted to the stark contrast of the glaring sun outside and the soft fluorescent lights within the vault. He spotted a big red button and slammed his palm down on it. The sirens, thank fuck, shut off, but the lights kept going. 

There was a gap between his platform and the next. The control panel clearly needed a Pip-Boy to be operated but he didn’t see any nearby. He sighed and took a running leap, just barely making it to the other side.  

He took another suspicious look around, still not quite sure he was completely safe. His chest tightened with the irritating feeling of an oncoming coughing fit. “Fuck it,” he muttered, starting through the open doorway without a glance back. 

Whatever had happened in here had been messy and recent. He kneeled down next to a puddle of blood and dipped an ungloved finger in, still warm. He popped open his holster and tugged out the gun, better to be safe than dead. 

He had been following the direction the lights had been pointing this whole time, hoping maybe he’d stumble across an infirmary. These vault fucks had to have left at least one bag of radaway behind. So far, though, he didn’t have high hopes. Everything was ransacked. The bodies that were left behind had been stripped naked and beaten to unidentifiable pulps.

So far, the vaults had at least been air conditioned. If nothing else he was getting a break from the sweltering heat that trailed him on the surface. He’d already tested out one of the sinks down here, their water was still functioning. Maybe he could get some of the blood caked under his nails cleaned out. 

While the air conditioning had been nice, the breeze that was coming from the door across the way would have had goosebumps rising on him if he was still capable of that. His head tilted in contemplation as he stared at it. Above every door was meant to be an indicator of what went on in there. 

There wasn’t for this one, though. And despite knowing better, he had to admit, he was pretty curious. He strode forward, tucking the gun back in his holster and slamming the button on the right side of the door. The second it slid open, whatever had been sealing the noise inside broke. 

He flinched away from the sounds of sirens and covered his ears, cussing up a storm as he slammed the button once more. It clicked uselessly but didn’t send the door down again. “Fuck,” he hissed, stepping inside and grunting as the cold bore down on him ten times worse than before. 

Cryogenics, well, the temperature made sense now. 

He stared at each of the pods, the windows frosted over with cold and making it impossible to see the people within. He took his time examining them, trying his best to see if anyone he knew was in one of them. Despite it all, he held a little hope that he might see Janey, maybe even Barb. 

Without any luck he headed towards the terminal, he could probably get the sirens to shut the fuck up this way. Or maybe just get this door closed again. 

In neon green a warning sign flashed over and over across the screen. 

LIFE SUPPORT: CRITICAL FAILURE.  

He glanced back over his shoulder and scoffed. Rich fucks hadn’t thought to have a back up, or did they really think their buddy Vault-Tec would keep them safe? He shook his head and clicked away the warning. He peered through the list of commands but couldn’t find anything except a list of who was in the pods. 

He figured he might as well see if he spotted a familiar name. If they were alive he might be able to get some information off of them. It wasn’t until the bottom of the list that he saw anything helpful. Your name stood out bright and bold and beside it the message:

LIFE SUPPORT FAILING

RISK OF ASPHYXIATION: 

The colon blinked a few times and he drummed his finger impatiently on the sides of the terminal. Finally the risk analysis loaded and he let out a rough exhale. 

RISK OF ASPHYXIATION: IMMINENT 

REMOVE SUBJECT IMMEDIATELY 

His eyes widened and without thinking he clicked the little button. A moment later he heard something creak open, the seal of the pod broken as air rushed out. He turned around and faced your pod, of course it was the one right beside him. 

He ran forward, catching you just as you slumped out of the seat. Your skin was like ice, your lips blue and face purple from choking. It was all swollen, like you’d been struggling to get air in for a while before he came. He frowned down at your limp form, shaking you slightly as he waited for you to take in a breath. 

“Hey,” he brought a rough hand down on your cheek, the leather striking loudly against your skin.

Your lips parted and you took in a deep breath, gasping as your hands flew up to your throat. You turned over, falling out of his arms and landing roughly on the metal grates of the floor. He took a step back, watching as you hacked yourself back to life, your lungs nearly coming out with how hard you were coughing. 

His head tilted as he observed you. You looked damn near the same as the last time he saw you. The only real difference being the slutty little black slip you had on. He scoffed and shook his head. So that’s where you’d disappeared to, sold yourself out to Vault-Tec for some apocalyptic protection. 

Lot of good that did you. 

You clawed at your throat, air feeling like razor blades as you greedily inhaled. You’re not sure where you are, you can barely feel your extremities, you’ve got an uncomfortable draft on your backside. You wince as you sit up, wiping your blurry eyes in the hopes they’ll clear up, metal digs into your skin as you do. 

It’s like when you get too cold during winter and your eyes frost over a little bit. Except, this doesn’t feel like a little bit. You can’t even see your own hand right now. All you can make out is faint outlines of everything, blurry little clouds of color. 

“Hello?” Someone was here, you could tell that much. You just didn’t know who. Metal creaked in front of you and you scrambled back. They weren’t saying anything. Why weren’t they saying anything? 

You wracked your brain for the last thing you could remember and felt tears building along your lashes. Oh god. “Tom?” You called out hesitantly. Maybe they’d changed their minds. Maybe the men who’d grabbed you had dumped you off somewhere. 

You didn’t want to think about what they’d done while you were asleep. You were slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings and very aware of the skimpy slip you had on right now. Not even close to what you’d been wearing when they grabbed you. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a meager attempt at comfort. 

“That who you fucked, sweetheart?”

Your brows turned down. “Cooper?” He sounded a little rough, his accent more pronounced, but you’d know his voice anywhere. It was as familiar to you as your own. “Cooper, where am I?” The tears were spilling freely now the longer he stared at you in silence. At least crying was starting to thaw out your eyes. 

You could more clearly make out his form now, looming overtop of you like some sort of dark omen. You always felt safe with Coop. When someone pushed you too much or got a little too aggressive, you could go to him. 

Right now, though, you felt like prey in front of a wolf. There was no kindness in his words and only a cruel accusation in his tone. Dear god, where were you? And why would he think you would ever fool around with any of these sick fucks behind his back? 

“Cooper, please, what happened?”

He barked out a laugh and you flinched back, “What happened? Well, lets see what the fuck happened.” You heard more than saw him pace across the metal floors, the spurs on his boots clanking loudly. Had he been at a party and come looking for you?

“You told me you’d be back for lunch and I didn’t see you for another two hundred years.”

Your stomach dropped to the floor, “What?” You whispered. 

He knelt down in front of you. “Your eyes still foggy?” You nodded your head mutely. “Well,” he chuckled but it wasn’t the one you knew. This was something mean and sharp. “When those clear up, I’m not gonna look like you remember me, darling. Should probably get out of here before you realize what you’re talking to.”

He made to get up but you shot forward, blindly groping at the dark form of his torso until you latched onto his duster. “Cooper, please, I’m confused. I-” you looked around blindly, hoping to find something to explain how the last thing you remembered was eating pancakes with him. There’s no way in hell it’s been two hundred years. 

“I went to Tom’s to get the script. He made me come in for drinks. There- there were all these men there, they grabbed me and I don’t remember anything after that. Cooper, please, I wasn’t wearing this when they snatched me. What the hell happened to me?”

There was a moment of silence before he let out a sigh. “You didn’t leave to find some safety in Vault-Tec?”

You frowned and let him go, shoving him away from you with as much force as your frozen muscles could muster up. “Fuck you, you think I’d do that to you? How little do you think of me?”

You reached out for the pod beside you, using it to get to your feet. You felt about as graceful as a newborn foal right now, all gangly limbs and stilted movements. You leaned over, catching your breath as you tried to walk forward. 

“If I were you, I’d get back in that pod and let the world rot away. You’re not gonna do well on your own out here, honey.”

You heard his spurs moving past you and then made out his form as he walked through the doors of the room. “Cooper?” You called out, but you knew it was pointless. He was gone. The man you knew was gone and you had no clue what the fuck had happened. 

He managed to finally find the infirmary, lucky enough that a few bags of Rad-Away had been left behind. They’d only had IV bags, so he’d spent a while trying to find a spot where his skin wasn’t so tough a needle could actually get through. 

She had to be lying. 

He felt himself trying to look at the door, like she’d step through, and forced his head down. He flicked at the IV bag, hoping that maybe it would speed it the fuck up. He needed to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the more he wanted to talk to her. 

He’d changed a lot since they’d last seen each other. Whatever he had once felt for her was gone. The man he had once been was dead. There was no point in hurting the girl by giving her false hope. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to relax some. 

He’d finish this bag, pack the others, and then he’d leave this vault behind. She could figure out what she wanted to do on her own. He didn’t have time for strays or old flames. 

You stumbled around for a while before you finally got your bearings. You managed to make your way into what looked like an office and sat behind a curved desk. A terminal on top sat blinking bright green letters at you. You went through each of the logs, your dread only getting worse the longer you read. 

Tom wasn’t in this vault, that’s for sure. The other names you only recognized from the credits of some movies you’d watched a while back. The men who had taken you from Tom’s house. 

According to the scientist using this terminal, they’d wanted to ensure they had some fun before they went underground. 

You weren’t the only one Tom had sold out. Your entire cryogenic chamber had been filled with other women, each of them dead because of a life support failure. You were meant to be their entertainment while they waited for the world to be ready for the taking. 

You took a break, forcing your eyes away from the screen and staring down at your hands. 

Well, Cooper hadn’t been lying at least. Two hundred years you’d been frozen, you hadn’t even known it. It was bizarre, what felt like only a few hours ago was over two millennia. You’d only just kissed Cooper goodbye and now he was acting like some asshole who wouldn’t even stay to help you to your feet. 

Feeling yourself getting angry and panicked you went back to reading. There was nothing you could do. You’d been screwed over by someone you trusted, you were stuck here. No point in pouting about it. 

The scientist wrote more about the men’s intentions and you forced the bile down as you read. Then he got to what Vault-Tec’s real intentions were. Something about experimenting with cryogenics, seeing how long a body could last, what all it could preserve. You didn’t understand most of it, the language far above your education. 

The men were just guinea pigs, same as you. It brought you a modicum of satisfaction. Barely, though. 

The lead of the whole project gets more cryptic and paranoid the further he writes. Something about Vault-Tec never sending the all clear signal to get the fuck out of here. Security was getting antsy the longer they stayed and supplies were running low. 

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together when you looked at the blood splattered walls and the white coated corpse across the room.  

Underneath the last entry was a fail safe. In case the experiment was going wrong and there were no other options but to abandon it. 

TERMINATE?

The green pointer blinked as you stared at the question. Your mind traveled to the way they’d swarmed you. How ruthlessly they’d taken you like you were nothing more than cattle. The other women they did it to. You could only imagine what had happened while you’d been knocked out. 

That familiar feeling of anger, disgust, and shame welled up in you. You had always been typecast. The sexy bombshell with nothing else going for her. It bled into other aspects of your life, people treating you like you were nothing more than a walking doll, for their enjoyment and nothing else. 

You’d be damned if you let these men survive what the other women couldn’t. 

You hit the button and listened as the sirens quieted down the hall, the hiss of oxygen as the pods killed their inhabitants. You didn’t allow yourself to linger on what you’d just done for very long, you went clicking through the rest of the terminal. 

Most of it was password locked, you only gleamed enough information to figure out what had been going on while you slept. Bombs dropped, the world went to shit, just like you always thought it would. You’d never considered that you might survive it. 

Maybe those men had done you a slight favor, just barely. 

He sighed as he ripped the needle out of his arm, pulling his sleeve down he moved away from the wall he’d been leaning on. He’d definitely been getting cheated out of his caps. Next time he saw that bitch Ma June, he’d show her what he thought about her watered down bullshit. 

A shadow passed by the doorway and his hand drifted down to his holster. He slipped out of the room and took a peek around the corner. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere, even with that ridiculous vault suit on. 

“Hey!”

She jumped and whirled around on him. For a moment he forgot that this was a completely new reality for her. She didn’t know what a ghoul was, she’d never seen one before. Her last memory of him had been his prime. When he’d had a fucking nose. 

Her eyes widened and his grew cold while he waited for the inevitable disgust. He was used to it by now, but he was pretty sick and tired of hearing about it. Especially when the few people who managed to get their hands on his old movies would recognize him. 

The disgust never came, just obvious shock and disbelief. She took a few hesitant steps closer, her eyes darting across his face while she did. He nearly missed her hand coming up, like she wanted to touch him. He caught it at the last second, bringing his hand up to swat hers down. 

She winced and backed up a step, the wonder on her face gone and replaced with hurt. “Cooper-”

He darted forward and snatched her chin in between his gloved fingers. “Now, darling, I’m gonna need you to get this through your fucking head,” he hissed, eyes boring into her terrified ones. “That’s not my name anymore, I’m nothing but a ghoul. I’m not the man you know and I’m never going to be. Let it go and if you know what’s good for you, move the fuck on.”

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and grinned, she had always been pretty when she cried. “Understand?” When she didn’t respond fast enough for his liking he shook her roughly, “Speak!”

“Yes,” she shouted, clawing at his arm and wincing when her nails scraped across the leather of his skin. “I understand.” He took a moment, looking into her eyes, before he nodded and released her. 

She stumbled back, choking on a sob and glaring up at him. “So, what? Am I just supposed to call you an asshole?” He scoffed, barely laughing. Everything that happened to her today and she could still get a fucking attitude. It was nearly impressive, if not stupid. She didn’t watch who she spoke to and she was going to get killed before the day was up. 

“You’re not gonna call me anything. We’re not working together, you’re on your own.”

She glared at him and rubbed her jaw where he’d grabbed her. Her cheeks were already changing colors, bruises blooming where he’d snatched her. His eyes darted away from her hands and back to her. “Why’d you stop me then?”

He looked her up and down and grinned at the way she shivered, seemed he hadn’t lost all his charm just yet. “That tight little suit of yours is gonna get you killed. People up there don’t take too kindly to people from down here.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, glaring at him. “So, what? I’d be safer walking around in what they had me in?”

He shook his head and started walking back towards the door of the vault. “No.”

He heard her huff and race after him. “You’re fucking infuriating, you know that? What the hell am I supposed to do, Co-” He shot her a warning glare but she’d clamped her mouth shut before she could finish the sentence. She still had that stupid hurt look on her face, like he’d kicked her puppy. It kind of made him want to just shoot her. 

“I don’t have any supplies, all I have is this stupid suit. Please, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

He sighed and stopped. She stumbled forward, nearly ramming into his back in the process. “Go to Filly, I’m sure you’ll find something there.”

“I’m supposed to just know where that is?”

He didn’t bother responding to her, there was no point in it. She would be dead soon, anyway. This world wasn’t made for pretty girls like her, especially not on her own. If she was smart she’d just starve herself down here, at least she’d have running water. 

You watched him walk off and felt like your chest was going to cave in. You couldn’t handle this, he was just Cooper an hour ago. Making you breakfast and kissing you goodbye. And despite the odd deformities, you could still see him. Sure, he was missing a nose, but he was still there. Your Cooper. 

Except he wasn’t. 

You couldn’t quite believe he would be so cruel earlier. He was always mean when he was hurt. You figured maybe he was still sitting with the fact that you hadn’t actually left him behind for Vault-Tec. But his eyes gave him away. 

They were cold, devoid of anything you used to know. The man you had known was no longer there. And if he was, he was buried far deeper than you were interested in digging. You watched him walk away and felt your chest squeezing painfully. 

This was not the fucking time to start panicking. If the carnage around you was anything to go by, then the surface had to be so much fucking worse. Cooper seemed to think vaults were safer, but right now you were staring into the gouged eyes of a corpse who’d been killed by a friend. Clearly, nowhere was safe. 

You couldn’t afford to pity yourself or cry. You’d have to keep moving, process it all later. You pushed off the wall and leapt over the corpses blocking your path. Cooper must’ve stepped in a pile of blood because you could clearly make out his footprints. He seemed like he was going to leave, you bet if you followed him you would find the way out. 

You followed the prints up a set of stairs, but they had faded out completely by the time you got up to the vault door. You winced, blocking your eyes from the bright glare of the sun. Barely a second out of the vault and you felt like your skin might already be peeling. 

Whatever had happened while you were out, this was not the world you remembered. The sun seemed bigger, brighter, more violent. If the skeletons littered throughout the sand were anything to go by, everything was more violent now. 

You tripped over a particularly deformed skull of a beast and scrambled up to your feet. You glanced around, spotting a figure in the distance and ran after it. You hoped it was Cooper you were following, but he was already so far ahead of you that he was barely a dot on the horizon. 

You followed the footsteps he left in the sand and prayed he didn’t notice you trailing him. You couldn’t very well stay down there with all of those corpses. There had been no supplies to protect yourself with except a bloodied scalpel. You wouldn’t make it down there on your own and you certainly wouldn’t make it up here. 

You planned to just follow Cooper until you found something resembling civilization. He didn’t want you around him and you got the message, you’re not exactly eager to share his company. He’s a stranger, the only part of him you recognize is his name, and you’re not even allowed to use that. 

You kept your distance as long as you could. Keeping him as far away as possible so if he turned around he wouldn’t be able to realize he was being followed. But you’re already struggling. He’s not showing any signs of slowing anytime soon and you can barely see anymore. 

Your lips are peeling, throat raw and aching for water. Your eyes are completely coated in sand and being damaged by the sun. You wished you had been better prepared for this but it’s been at least four hours and you’re about to keel over. 

You wheeze, dragging yourself over to a fallen billboard and slumping against it. You’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings, or you just don’t care anymore. You find yourself drifting off and you don’t stop it. You’d prefer if the heat stroke took you while you were asleep, at least then you wouldn’t be aware of it. 

Your eyes drift closed and your head slumps forward, the sun bearing down on your neck and burning away at the skin there. 

You cough and splutter, frantically brushing sand off your face and spitting it out of your mouth. Cooper’s standing over you, frowning and glaring, which seems to be his go to expression now. You glance down at his outstretched foot and realize he kicked the sand in your face. “What the fuck?”

“You know,” he tilts his head and rests a hand on his holster, grinning at the way you shrink away from his gun. “I thought you would have lasted at least another hour.”

You wipe your face off and struggle back onto your feet, nearly teetering over as you did. “You knew I was following you?” You groused, glaring up at him. You’re not sure your anger translates well, though. You can barely hear your own voice, your throat too dry to produce any proper words.  

“‘Course I did, sweetheart. I’d be a pretty shit bounty hunter if I didn’t recognize when someone was trailing me.”

You finally manage to get to your feet and glare at him. “Congratulations, you want a prize?”

His smile drops and he darts forward before you can move away. His hand clamps around your arm and he drags you behind him. You’re stumbling, barely able to keep in stride with him. Mercifully, you notice the sky is starting to turn pink in the distance. Soon, the sun will be down and you’ll get a moment's reprieve. 

“Where are you taking me?” You demand, tripping over a rock and wincing as he jerks you back to your feet. He turns around to glare at you like he isn’t the one dragging you around. 

“Filly,” he grunts. He finally comes to a stop, you ram into his back wincing as your nose slams into him painfully. He doesn’t even flinch and you wonder if he felt it. If he can feel anything with how crisped his skin is. 

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be pushing your luck. If he is helping you, and that’s a pretty hesitant if, you’re sure he’ll be quick to change his mind. Still, you can’t help but push him. You’ve always had that problem, except before he took it in stride and teased you right back. 

Now, your eyes dart down to his gun, you’re not sure he wouldn’t just put a new hole in you. 

“Changed my mind.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, I’m aware. I’m asking why,” you cut yourself off sharply, mouth clamping shut because you almost called him Coop again. Your jaw is still aching from the last “warning” he gave you. You’re not looking for another. 

He whirled around on you and you didn’t even realize his gun was in his hand until it was digging into your throat. “Why don’t you stop asking me so many fucking questions, hm.” He sneered and you winced at the sight of his yellowed teeth. Finally you nodded and backed away from him, he kept his eyes on yours for a moment before he holstered his gun again. “Let’s go,” he started walking and you couldn’t do anything but follow him. 

At least this time you weren’t trying to track a dot in the distance. 

The sky was getting dark quick and the temperature was dropping even faster. You hunched into yourself and ran your hands up and down your arms to try and keep warm. It seemed everything was done in the extremes now, even the damn weather. 

Cooper whistled and you hurried to catch up with him. He stood in front of a decaying old house, nearly all of the roof gone. The walls looked like they might cave in soon and it had clearly been unoccupied for a very long time. He opened up the door and walked inside, letting it slam back into your face. 

You caught it and huffed. You followed after him and saw that he was already setting up his spot for the night. He leaned against the half-rotted couch, his hat over his eyes and his arms tucked under his coat. You glanced around for a clean spot to curl up and laid down on the ground. You winced at all the dirt on the floor but figured it was better than sleeping out in the sand. 

Despite your oh-so comfortable sleeping arrangement, you found it hard to pass out. Maybe it’s because you’d just taken a two hundred year nap or the man across from you. Your eyes refused to stay shut and you couldn’t stop staring at him. 

You told yourself you would process your emotions later but apparently your mind had decided now would be the best time. You could feel the tears trickling down your cheeks again and you tried to wipe them away.

Too much had happened for them to be so easily dismissed. You were struggling with the thoughts of what those men did to you. You’re certain your imagination is worse than anything that happened, but not knowing was killing you. You felt violated, just being knocked out like that and being left vulnerable to them. 

And Cooper. 

Cooper was practically dead as far as you both were concerned. You felt like you were grieving for someone who was lying right across from you. You were staring right at him and he was just out of your reach. 

You sniffled and wiped your nose. A loud sigh came from the man in front of you and he spoke without bothering to tilt his hat back up. “I’m gonna take you to Filly and you’re gonna help me with some business there and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

“What?” Your voice was an embarrassing croak and you winced. 

“They don’t take too kindly to my folk down there-”

“You mean zombies,” you interrupted, propping your head up on your hand. 

He finally lifted his hat up and glared, though it was half-hearted at best. “It’s ‘ghouls,’ sweetheart. Never knew you to be racist.” You rolled your eyes and he dropped his hat back down again. “You’ll get me what I need and I’ll have delivered you to, well, not safety, but as close as you can get out here.” He leaned forward, arm outstretched and grinning at you. “Deal?”

Well, it wasn't like you had any other options. You leaned forward, grasping his gloved hand in yours and shaking, “Deal.”

SERIES TAGLIST: @pixelatedprofilepic @o0mellowdramatic0o @bisasterbisexual @julianmarie @v3n1x @weakling-grace

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[another-random-paradise]

Hello everything is fine? I just found your account and I'm already in love!!!

I loved your sleepy confession writing post, if it doesn't bother you and only if you want, could you do it for Kalim, Jamil and Ruggie? They are so cute!!! >w<

Oh, and sorry if the English is wrong, it's not my first language...

An even sleepier confession

Thank you for the request and the sweet words!! And don’t worry about your English, it’s great! Plus, it isn’t my first language either, so i get the struggle, haha! :)

——————————————————————————————————

Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / part one

Characters: Kalim, Jamil, Ruggie

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Kalim 

-Chances are, you were at one of his party’s, stayed late, and are too tired to go back to ramshackle 

-so, Kalim being Kalim, annoys convinces Jamil to let you two have a sleepover. The absolute energy boost Kalim gets after getting permission already makes Jamil regret his decision..

-after a long night of story telling (with how many siblings Kalim has, he definitely always has tea to spill), pillow fights, and movie marathons, you finally decide to go to sleep, much to Jamils relief

-Just before you two fall asleep though, you unconsciously make one last comment “Life is always so fun with you, really makes me wanna marry you one day..”

-If you thought you’d get any sleep after a comment like that, you’re wrong! Because Kalim is now wide awake and practically yelling in excitement 

-He’d be asking you if you really meant it, before talking about how you’ll have to meet his family first, especially all his siblings! They’ll love you!! Why don’t you come with him over the next Holidays?! All while being all over you, kind of like an exited puppy are those ears and a tail??, meanwhile you’re just sitting there like ‘oh shit, I said that out loud?!’ 

-It’ll only get worse if you confirm that, yes, you do, in fact, want to be with him and maybe, hopefully, marry him one day 

-Jamil storms in, thinking you two were getting assassinated or something, only to see Kalim hugging you, practically shaking in excitement, talking about all the dates he’ll take you on (and about your wedding of course)

-you sheepishly look over at Jamil, who is staring daggers into you, the message clear ‘you couldn’t have waited until morning?’. If looks could kill, Jamil would have cut you into a three course meal just now :D 

-Jamil tells him to quiet down, so the rest of the dorm can rest

-Kalim continues to whisper-yell, till eventually you two fall asleep cuddling 

-the next day, half the school already knows about your now relationship, partially because the entirety of scarabia could hear him, and partially because Kalim can’t keep his mouth shut-

-He is so hung up on that marriage comment, that he might accidentally introduce you as his fiancée a few times!

Jamil

-you, being the kind soul that you are, probably decided to help him out with his chores around Scarabia 

-But unlike him, you aren’t used to so much work, No matter how much Crowley tries to overwork you so eventually you’re just straight up exhausted.

-Jamil brings you to one of the many couches, but he makes sure it’s one away from the business of the dorm, he wouldn’t want you to be disturbed while you sleep he cares to much about you for that

-He picks up the few dirty plates some other students left behind, as you get comfortable, which is a very easy task, considering all those silk blankets and soft pillows! You mumble something a mere second before falling asleep. “You’re so caring, Jamil… makes me want to marry you even more than i already to..”

-Jamil halts in his tracks, he almost drops the plates he was carrying! Partially because he’s flustered, but also because a part of him hoped you wouldn’t like him back and the crush would pass.. not that it ever would have

-He is lost in thought as he makes his way to the kitchen, he almost even runs into another student

-Jamil likes you, he really does, there’s no doubt there, but he’s worried more than anything. He doesn’t have time for love!

-not only would you distract him from keeping Kalim from accidentally getting himself killed, but his work would mean that he’d have little to no time to spend with you.. not to mention if you get married, you and your future children would be forced to work for the Asim family too- Unless..

-If he takes you’re last name, instead of him yours, neither of you would be a part of the Viper name any longer. Instead of him enslaving you into service, you could free him from his life of servitude.

-And you always find ways to hang out, despite how busy he is

-He continues to work, now with a smile on his face. 

-Maybe this could work out after all :)

Ruggie

-Another one who you were probably helping with work

-Usually he’d refuse help, he doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone, but hey, it’s an excuse to spend more time with you, so he’ll make an exception 

-Afterwards, your beat.. even after book 3 and knowing him for a while, you never could have guessed how much work just one certain Lion could make.

-He lays down next to you, either making a sarcastic or teasing comment as he does.

-As always, you laugh in response, but this time you follow it up with “You’re a great guy, you know that? I hope i get to marry you one day..”

-His usual smug smirk, is gone. Just like that. It’s replaced by absolute shock

-He turns to you, to question you about it, only to see you’re already in the land of dreams 

-Ruggie doesn’t know how to feel, He is shocked, flustered, and most of all, confused. Yes, he is happy that you like him back, it just confuses him.

-You’re in a school filled with rich guys and literal Royalty. So, by the seven, why would you like a guy like him? Especially since your first meeting was literally him stealing a sandwich from your son friend! 

-But it makes him smile, in a school filled with rich people, someone as amazing as you, still chooses him, so he must be really great, right?

-Now he’s even more determined to get a good job, so that he can give you and your possible children a good life!

-He just hopes his Grandma and the kids will like you.. nah, he’s sure they will, you’re you! 

-He won’t immediately make his move to ask you out, but he’s definitely working on it! He would be a bit more hesitant about asking you out (Even after you basically asked to marry him) if you’re a girl, as in nature male hyenas are naturally more submissive towards the female they’re trying to court 

This was so much fun to write, thank you so much for the request!!

Feedback is welcomed, just please be nice!! Hope you all have a nice day <3

[megalony]

Medical Attention

This is my first Eddie Diaz x reader x Tommy Kinard imagine, requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Tommy and (Y/n) are out with the kids, they end up in a car crash. Eddie and his team come to the rescue, who have no idea Eddie has a family.

Enjoy.

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"Don't run." Tommy tilted his head back and arched a brow above the rim of his sunglasses.

His eyes focused on Chris and Cassie and he watched the pair of them abruptly stop in the middle of the pavement and look over their shoulders at him. The tone in his voice was enough to tell them he wasn't joking. He didn't want them running too far away when they were near the main roads.

He could see one of them was about to protest until they looked down at Daisy.

The four year old wanted to run ahead with them, but her backpack had a plastic lead which attached to the strap Tommy had around his wrist. And when she tried to rush after her two older siblings, the strap tensed and the tension pulled her back until she stumbled and fell down on her bum.

It was the easiest way to go out with Daisy if she was too excited and energetic for her pushchair. This way, she could walk beside them but they could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't wander or try and cross the road without them.

A small cry burst past Daisy's lips and she tilted her head back, looking up at Tommy through watering eyes as she held her arms out for him.

"Up we go, baby." Leaning down, Tommy hooked both hands beneath Daisy's arms as he bent over her and swiftly lifted her off the floor. He set her down gently on her feet and pressed a sloppy kiss to the top of her head. He tightened the strap around his wrist so it was shorter to keep Daisy closer before they began walking again.

Both Chris and Cassie waited for (Y/n), Tommy and Daisy to catch them up before they carried on walking down the street, making sure not to stray too far ahead of their parents.

When they all reached the car park, Cassie turned and held her hand out for (Y/n) while Chris moved to stand on Tommy's left side. Neither of them could remember where the car was parked and they didn't want to be running round here. Not when the cars were moving and people were pulling in and out of spaces.

A teary, sniffling grin broke out on Daisy's face when she turned to face her dad and held her arms up expectingly towards him. She watched the way Tommy's eyes softened and a smile creased his eyes and he crouched down to pick her up. He sat her on his hip and let her bind her arms tight around his neck while he kissed her cheek and moved his other hand to hold Chris's shoulder.

"Alright, off we go."

(Y/n) kept her hand tangled with Cassie's and guided her across towards the car. She could feel Tommy stood behind her like a shadow looming over her, but it was comforting.

As they walked towards the car, she felt Tommy's arm pressing into her back and Daisy's foot tapping against her shoulder as if to let her mum know she was there too.

When they reached the car, Tommy let go of Chris's shoulder to fish the keys from his back pocket. His lips quirked into a smile as Cassie bundled into the back in the middle seat and Chris followed after her to sit behind the driver's seat.

"Here we go Daisychain," He murmured softly as he moved round to the over side and leaned in the back.

He pressed his shoulders up into the roof, cramping his broad frame into the back of the car to clip Daisy in her car seat. He could see their youngest looked about ready to fall asleep. All trace of tears were wiped away and she let her head flop against the side of the car seat as she shuffled around to get comfy.

She stayed still for once as Tommy buckled her in and just as he was about to get up, he stopped. Daisy leaned forward and kissed his nose.

"Thank you baby," He whispered, reciprocating the action to kiss her button nose.

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) looked across at Tommy when he got in the car. Watching him drive always made her smile because she couold see the concentration in his eyes. The way he held the steering wheel, how he looked at the gear stick at least three times and the way he wriggled his feet against the pedals. All to remind himself he was driving the car, not the chopper.

The amount of times (Y/n) had seen him look for the headset or try and reach for the control pannel that he didn't have in the car.

"You okay?" Tommy shifted into gear and pulled out of the car park, sparing a quick glance across at (Y/n) as he did so.

Once he'd changed gears again, he reached his hand out to drag his fingers across her thgh and give a squeeze.

"Just a headache… what time does Eddie finish?"

"About eight, I think."

(Y/n) wasn't as good at remembering shift dates and times like the boys were. She had to check the calendar in the kitchen to remember when the boys would be at work and what times they would be home.

It was a little easier with the fact that Tommy didn't do a lot of night shifts. He only did the odd night shift, maybe one a month and a few more if he was on call. Whereas Eddie did a mixture, although a lot of his shifts were days because he preferred days to nights, the same as Tommy.

(Y/n) hummed and nodded before she closed her eyes and slouched down in her seat. She could feel herself smiling when Tommy's hand moved from her thigh to graze along her stomach. She curled her hand around his and concentrated on the way he started to draw patterns over her bump until he had to switch gears again.

She reached across to curl her hand over Tommy's thigh, scratching her nails through his jeans until she realised he was tensing his leg beneath her. And when she cracked open one eye, she noticed him glance across at her with a certain look behind his tinted lenses and an arched brow.

It was a good look when Tommy wore his sunglasses which mixed with his curls and the sharp angle of his jawline.

"Can we have the radio on daddy?" Cassie kicked her heels and wriggled from side to side, wedged between her brother and her sister's car seat.

"Sure baby."

A grin took over Tommy's face and he moved his hand to run across his jaw, obscuring his open mouthed smile as he glanced in the rear view mirror at the three of them. He could hear Cassie belting out the Fleetwood Mac lyrics rather well. Then there was Chris who was humming rather than singing and tapping out the drumbeat on his knees. And Daisy was clapping and throwing in the only few lyrics she knew.

It wasn't exactly harmonious or in any sort of tune, but it made Tommy's heart swell and explode all in one.

(Y/n) opened her eyes at the wrong time.

She wasn't sure what made her look out the window, but she wished she hadn't when she noticed the car speeding their way at the junction.

"Tommy!" Her nails punctured into his thigh harsh enough to make him tense and hiss.

He didn't have chance to say anything. He barely managed to tear his eyes away from the road to see what had panicked his partner before it was too late to press down on the gas pedal or hit the breaks. The car ran through a red light, blazing into the middle of the junction and smashing straight into the passenger side of the car.

All their screams combined. Tommy could hear all of it; his head filtered each noise and processed them separately to make his agony worse.

He heard (Y/n)'s scream before the horrid sound of her head bashing into the window hit his ears like a crack cutting through a frozen river. He processed Chris's scream, one that matched the kind he had at home when he had his meltdowns or when he was angry.

Tommy heard Cassie scream his name before Daisy's high pitch wail broke through the air and felt like it had burst Tommy's eardrums.

His hands clenched into fists around the steering wheel and he tensed up, locking his elbows and his arms into place to try and brace himself back into his seat. It didn't matter how hard Tommy pushed himself back into the seat, his body still moved when the car spun on its axis and flipped them round in circles like they were on the waltzers.

His forehead slammed down into the top of the steering wheel at the same time as he braced his foot down on the brake to try and make everything stop. He felt his sunglasses imbed into the bridge of his nose and smash into his eyebrows and when the car spun again, his body propelled to the right and his head collided with the window.

Another car hit them. It was bound to happen, they were doing circles in the middle of a four-way junction. Someone couldn't break or swerve in time and they smashed into the back of the driver's side of the car, propelling the car in another direction.

"Fuck!"

Tommy could feel his hands shaking and his arms imbedded into his sides, compressing himself like he was trying to make himself smaller to minimise the harm and the pain.

He couldn't see when he opened his eyes. His trembling hands reached up and curled around the broken glasses imbedded into his face. He tore them off and chucked them in any direction he could, blinking furiously to sort his vision. He could feel blood dripping down the bridge of his nose and when he moved his hand to the right side of his head, he hissed. He had a cut there.

He'd fractured the glass from how forcefully he headbutted the window.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" His voice was gruff and he swallowed thickly, turning to the left to look over at (Y/n).

Looking down, (Y/n) tried to clear her vision and stop the trembling that was rattling through her system. Her arms flopped onto her lap and she winced, smothering a sob when she looked at her left arm. It was definitely broken about an inch down from her wrist and it was already starting to swell.

Her head hurt. She felt sick. The baby was kicking and churning around as if the car was still spinning them in circles.

"Okay," (Y/n) mumbled and when she felt Tommy's fingertips graze across her stomach, she nodded. The baby was moving, that had to be a good sign right now. "Kids… c-check the kids." (Y/n) curled her fingers around Tommy's wrist and give a gentle squeeze. She would be alright for now, but they needed to make sure the kids were okay.

"Is everyone okay? Who's hurt?" Tommy wrangled with his belt and flung it to the side so he could slowly turn in his seat and look into the backseat.

He looked at Chris first. The eldest had blood trickling down the side of his head. His glasses were hung round his neck, tears were freshly falling down his face and he was gasping and shaking. Both his hands moved down to his right leg and he started to point until Tommy looked down; his ankle was swollen. He might have broken it.

When his eyes darted over to Cassie in the middle, Tommy's lips curled down and he pressed them into a thin line to try and stay focused.

Cassie was hyperventilating, taking shallow breaths as tears streamed silently down her face. She was in shock. She was cradling her left arm close to her chest; her hand looked damaged. Tommy took a guess that she had got her arm trapped against the car seat and all the force had broken or in the very least fractured some of the bones in her hand. Maybe her arm too, he couldn't be sure without taking a closer look.

But it was when his eyes set on Daisy that Tommy felt his heart lurch up into his throat.

The four year old was pushing back in her car seat, shaking and silently crying as she flapped her hands down near her left leg.

The window had broken. She had a piece of glass impaled in her leg.

Tommy lurched between the seats when Daisy moved her hands down towards her leg.

"Don't touch it!"

"Daddy…" Her voice was quiet and croaky and as soon as she found her voice, she began to wail. Deep, horrid choking sobs left her lips as she gasped for air only to continue screaming out. "Daddy!" She all but screamed on repeat until Cassie was whimpering at the volume and leaning into Chris.

"Baby, baby I'm coming to help you now, alright? Do not touch anything, I'm getting out now. It's all okay, you're okay."

"W-what's wrong?" (Y/n) could see the panic in Tommy's eyes and she tried to grab his arm but he moved too quickly.

He jammed his shoulder into the door until he creaked open and he threw himself out the car, moving as fast as his jelly legs would take him.

He rounded the back of the car, relieved to see there was enough space between their two cars for Tommy to open the doors and get the girls out if needed. There was enough space for the emergency services to come and help them.

"Mummy," Cassie leaned forward towards the front seats while (Y/n) turned around to try and look over at the kids.

She swallowed harshly, forcing down a cry when she realised all three of them were hurt; Daisy especially.

"Stay there, baby. Just stay where you are please, you're okay." (Y/n) reached her right arm towards the back, smiling through tears when Cassie leaned forward to hold her hand. The touch didn't last long, neither of them could lean or strain for long to stay connected, but it was enough to calm one of Cassie's electrified nerves.

When he opened the back door, Tommy crouched down and pressed his knees down against the footwell so he could lean up in front of Daisy and look her over properly.

"Daddy… hurts!"

"I know Daisychain, I'm gonna make it better. And I bet papi's on his way here to help us too. Just stay still for me, okay?"

When she moved her hands down, Tommy wasn't sure whether she was reaching for him or for her leg. He could see she was itching to take the glass out of her leg but he couldn't let her do that and cause irreversable damage if she did.

"Cass, baby hold her hands for me please."

Cassie whimpered and leaned her cheek on the edge of the car seat, moving her right hand out to clamp down around both of Daisy's hands. She couldn't get a good grip or hold her properly and she didn't dare move her left hand that was swelling up and going numb on her lap.

Tommy pressed his lips into a thin line and tried to be careful when he looked over Daisy's left leg.

She wriggled and squirmed, pushing back in her seat as both legs jerked. A horrible whine left her lips and she began gasping again, desperate to kick out until both Tommy's hands planted down on her thighs to keep her steady.

Turning to the left, Tommy leaned over the back of (Y/n)'s seat, taking the chance to kiss her cheek in the process.

"I need something for a turnequit, my belt's too big and she's nicked an artery."

He had to stem the bleeding that was spurting out of Daisy's leg and soaking the car seat. If he didn't stem it soon she would bleed out in the car before help got to them. But Tommy's belt was too big. Daisy was only four and her leg was thin and fragile as a stick. He couldn't knot his belt tight enough around her leg to stop the bloodloss.

(Y/n) looked around the footwell as strangled breaths tumbled past her lips. Oh God. What were they going to do? They needed help. They needed Eddie's team or Tommy's team down at Harbour to get here and help them. They needed to get Daisy out quickly.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) supressed a groan as her stomach pressed into her thighs and she reached down for her bag that was between her feet.

"C-can you break the strap?" She handed it back to him. The purse had a long but thin leather handle that would be perfect if Tommy could break it off her bag. She had no doubt that he could tear it apart as easily as he liked to tear her lace underwear.

"Thank you."

He kissed her cheek again before he turned back to face Daisy. He rested the bag on his lap, clenched the strap in his fists and tore in opposite directions until the leather grated and crackled as it ripped apart.

"Daisychain, I want you to close your eyes and stay as still as you can for me. I'm gonna fix your leg and make it better, okay?"

The blind trust Daisy put in him made Tommy's heart swell and break at the same time.

She will never trust me again after this.

Anytime Tommy asked her to trust him from now on, he just knew Daisy would never listen after what he was about to do. This was going to help her but the pain it would cause her was too much for a four year old to comprehend or understand.

He slid the strap beneath her left leg around her thigh as the glass was punctured in her leg two inches up from her knee. Once it was in place, Tommy gave a sharp pull and quickly knotted the leather so tightly that it sank down into Daisy's thigh like it was going to split her leg in two.

"No!"

Her shrill scream tore through the car and her small hands pulled out of Cassie's grip. She batted them against Tommy's shoulder, but she couldn't sway him an inch. She screamed so much her inner lips went blue and she started to black out. Her hands flopped onto Tommy's shoulder and her head lolled against the seat as she laid panting and gasping, on the verge of passing out.

"Baby, baby, look at me. Breathe with me, deep breaths. Copy daddy, hm?"

Reaching out, he firmly held Daisy's chin in his hand and tilted her head so she was looking at him. Once she tried to open her eyes, Daisy started to watch the way Tommy purposely took deep breaths and puffed out his chest. Then deflated his chest and lowered his shoulders to get her to copy him.

"Good girl."

Taking a look around the back of the car, Tommy grabbed Daisy's bag from the footwell below Chris and rummaged through until he found an old shirt tucked in the bottom. They always brought out a spare change of clothes, some wipes and toys in case of any accidents; never this kind of accident, though.

He stretched the shirt as much as he could and wrapped it around the cut just below the glass. Pulling it tight so the little blood that was still leaking out would soak up and the pressure would keep her leg going until they got her stitched up at the hospital.

"Such a good girl." Tommy murmured against her temple, pressing a lasting kiss there before he leaned over to look at Cassie and Chris.

Cassie whimpered quietly and held her arm out towards Tommy so he could see the damage done. She cringed and shivered as he tried to be careful assessing her hand which he laid down on her lap and leaned over so he could kiss her cheek.

"Are you hurt anywhere else, baby?" When she shook her head, he kissed her again and smiled in relief. That was good. A broken hand or wrist was okay and easy to sort out at the hospital. "Chris, buddy what about you, can I look at your leg?"

Chris held his right leg out towards Tommy and braced himself in his seat as his dad started to assess and prod his ankle and up his leg.

"Might just be swollen buddy. Come here, look." Tommy's voice softened as he let go of Chris's leg and reached out to gently place his glasses back over his nose and around his ears.

"It's dad!"

"Papi," Cassie sniffed, leaning close to Chris to look out the window as Tommy did the same. She felt Tommy's hand on her shoulder and he kissed both their heads when he looked with them towards the trucks and the ambulances that were beginning to pile up.

"I-is it Eddie?" (Y/n) leaned around, one hand on her stomach as her other hand grazed up and down Tommy's back.

The kids saw any fire truck and assumed it was Eddie. Much like Daisy saw any helicopter up in the sky and started shouting 'daddy' because she presumed Tommy flew every helicopter in the sky and that he never touched the ground when he was on shift.

"Yeah, yeah it's him," He breathed through his words and shuffled back so he was in the footwell in front of Daisy.

The toddler was sniffling and in between panting and whimpering, unsure whether she was going to pass out again or not.

Tommy took a second to spin around and look back over at (Y/n). He leaned around and moved his hand to her waist while he kissed her neck. "His team's gonna get a shock."

He almost felt bad. While Tommy told anyone at Harbour who asked that he had two partners and three kids, Eddie was reserved. He wasn't ashamed or annoyed, but he liked to keep his family to himself and hold them close to his heart. They had had enough people comment on their family for Eddie to know that to protect them and shield them, he had to keep them hidden away at times.

He had talked to Tommy about it. Tommy knew Chimney and Hen from years back when he worked at their station. He knew they were caring and understanding and Eddie was close enough to the team that he wanted to introduce them to his family soon.

He had been waiting for the right time. This crash would blow that out of the water for him.

Eddie slung a medic bag on his shoulder and turned away from the truck, looking through the mess in the middle of the junction.

Three cars were crashed together right in the centre of the junction. Another car had hit someone else when they came to a harsh break. A jeep had derailed from the road and collided with a street light, presumably to swerve and miss hitting a pedestrian.

This all looked a mess. It was good that they already had two other ambulances here as back up and another team was on the way to help evacuate people and get everyone out.

"Chim, check the driver in that jeep, see if they can get out or if they need to be in an ambulance. Buck, I think we might need the jaws for this BMW over here. Eddie-"

Whatever order Bobby tried to give out to Eddie went in one ear and straight out the other when Eddie got closer to the three car pile-up in the middle of the road.

Oh God.

"No- no I know that car- that's my family!"

The words left Eddie's lips in a flurry and before anyone could ask him what family he was talking about, he was off in a sprint. The bag on his shoulder slammed repeatedly into his hip and gave him jolts as he ran over to that all too familiar car. That was Tommy's car.

Did he have the kids in the car with him? None of the kids had ever been in a car accident before. They'd never been seriously hurt before. Did he have (Y/n) in the car with him? She was pregnant, a car accident was the last thing she needed right now.

Eddie planted his palm down on the boot of the car to keep himself upright and slow himself down so he didn't trip or collide with the car.

He dropped the medic bag down to the floor and skidded to a halt just as Tommy clambered out the back seat.

His broad frame blocked some of the sunlight beaming down on them and Eddie had to squint to look up at him. He looked a mess. His shoulders were tensed up and showed off how harshly he was breathing. His shirt was damp and glued to his chest like a second skin Eddie just wanted to peel off. Tommy's hair, usually brushed and tamed, was now wild and free with curls popping up in every direction possible like he'd had an electric shock.

He had a cut on the bridge of his nose and one across his left brow that was swollen a tiny bit. There was a cut to the right side of his head that had trickled down onto his ear, but it was Tommy's hands that made Eddie go rigid.

His hands were lathered in blood. So were his jeans and he had a few blotches around his abdomen.

When Eddie didn't step forward, Tommy moved to him. He looped his arms around Eddie's neck and reeled him in until Eddie jolted out of his frozen state. His hands clutched at Tommy's back and he buried his face in Tommy's shoulder, inhaling his scent that mixed with the smell of smoke, a hint of iron from the blood, and his signature cologne.

Pulling back, Eddie moved his hands from clutching Tommy's back to cup his neck instead. He didn't care if the team could see him or not. He pulled his partner down for a quick but searing kiss before his hands were moving again.

He held Tommy's wrists and yanked them closer, inspecting his hands, arms and then around his chest.

Where was the blood coming from? Where was he hurt?

"Babe, are you alright? Where are you hurt?" Eddie trailed his hands across Tommy's chest and moved down, about to grab his shirt and yank it up when Tommy stopped him. He held Eddie's wrists, accidentally smearing his hands with blood. Their daughter's blood.

"I'm fine, baby the kids… I've had to strap up Daisy's leg, she's cut an artery-"

"What?!"

Tommy took a step back when Eddie weaved around him to get in the back of the car. He knew that wouldn't go down well. If it was the other way round, Tommy would have had a heart attack upon arrival if he heard those words.

"Daisy, baby girl, it's papi." Eddie cupped her tear-stained face in his hands and pressed a flurry of kisses against her temple.

He felt the way she wailed into his neck and started to whimper, trying to grab his arms but he moved a little too fast. He leaned down and looked over her leg, already feeling the tears welling up in his eyes as he stared at the make-shift turnequit Tommy had made and the glass sticking out of her thigh.

"Okay, it's okay we're gonna look after you." He spoke quietly against her temple, letting her hold his hand for a few moments while he looked across at Chris and Cassie. "Are you two okay?"

Both of them moved at once. Chris lifted his right foot to show his swollen ankle and Cassie whimpered, holding out her left hand that was swollen up like a football and she couldn't move her fingers anymore.

"Can we get out now?" Chris looked around and pointed to his belt. Neither of them had removed their seatbelts. They were still in the car. The car was in the middle of the road. Were they allowed to take off their seatbelts? Were they allowed to get out the car now their other dad had arrived and all three parents were with them?

"Yeah, yeah come here and you can wait with dad."

As soon as Cassie unclipped her belt, Eddie leaned over and scooped her up. He made sure not to nudge or touch Daisy in any way and placed Cassie down on her feet next to the car. He did the same with Chris, making sure to hug and kiss them both before he looked across at Evan who was waiting nearby in case he could help.

"Can you check the kids please?"

Evan was the best person to have around the kids. He was great with kids. They levitated to him and he could calm them down and make them feel safe and comfortable which is what the pair of them needed right now.

"Cap, I got a four year old with a cut artery and a makeshift turnequit, I need the ambulance and a stretcher over here." Eddie spoke into his radio while he switched places with Tommy when Daisy started to scream again.

Tommy knelt in the footwell and cupped her face in his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs while he kissed her nose. "Just look at me baby, we're gonna look after you."

"No- no I- don't-" (Y/n) leaned over to the right, shuffling in her seat as much as she could when a woman knelt down at the side of the door.

She barely heard the woman ask if she could take a look at (Y/n). All she could do was bat her arm out to get her to move back. (Y/n) didn't want that blood pressure cuff on her arm. She didn't want strange hands on her. She wanted Eddie or Tommy. No one else needed to assess her, no one else understood her like her boys.

Spinning on his heels, Eddie twisted and moved to stand behind Hen. His heart soared and broke at the same time when he looked over at (Y/n) in the passenger seat.

She had her hands pinned against her ears and her eyes closed.

She didn't do well with hospitals or injuries and she couldn't handle strangers, especially not if they were trying to touch her. It didn't matter that Hen was only trying to help. (Y/n) couldn't deal with it.

"She doesn't do well with strangers, I'll get her out if you can help Tommy get Daisy out for me? Please?"

"Sure."

Hen smiled kindly and left her medical bag on the floor while she switched to move near Tommy. The surprise was evident in her eyes when she looked over her friend who she hadn't spoken to in months, possibly even a year or more.

He never said he was in a relationship with someone who was currently on Hen's team. Eddie never brought him or (Y/n) to their station parties or brought them round for drinks at the station. He never said anything about this and Hen was going to quiz them both later and find out everything.

"Baby… baby it's me. It's okay, it's just me." Reaching out, Eddie gently held (Y/n)'s wrists and pulled her hands away from her ears before he cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones and he leaned up to press their foreheads together, smiling softly at her when she opened her eyes.

He took a deep breath, puffing out his chest until (Y/n) copied him and waited for him to release his breath so she could do the same. After doing this for a minute, Eddie nodded and smiled sweetly.

"Can I take a look at you?"

(Y/n) nodded and sheepishly held out her left hand so Eddie would look at that first. Her wrist was her main concern. Her head was probably concussed but the only thing she had broken was her arm very close to her wrist.

She watched the concentration on Eddie's face and the way his lips pressed together and his brows furrowed as he assessed and prodded at her arm.

"I'll give you a splint until you can get it checked out." He found two wooden splints in the medical bag and a roll of bandage.

Within a minute, he bandaged the splints on either side of (Y/n)'s arm to keep the bone as straight as he could and stop it from moving in transition. He bandaged it tightly until (Y/n) was wincing and hissing and pushing back in her seat.

"Okay, let me take a look at you both. Any other injuries I should be worried about?"

(Y/n) leaned back in her seat and tried to stay still while Eddie ran his hand along her arms and over her chest just to check she had no other bruises or breaks or swelling. But when he moved his hands down towards her stomach, (Y/n) sucked in a sharp breath.

She rolled her lips together and held Eddie's wrist, moving his hand down to the right side of her bump. "I'm getting cramps." She whispered hoarsely, biting down on her lip at the look in Eddie's eyes when he glanced up at her.

He pressed the heel of his palms around her stomach, checking whereabouts the baby was positioned and making sure he couldn't feel any hernias or anything that indicated internal bleeding.

"Might just be the shock. Let's have a listen to his heartbeat." Eddie reached down and grabbed the stethoscope from the bag, but he found himself smiling when he heard Tommy pipe up.

"It's a girl."

Tommy thought they would have three for three. He was certain this next baby would be a girl, he had a gut feeling they would have another girl and have Chris as their one and only boy. Eddie seemed to think otherwise.

(Y/n) stayed still as Eddie listened to her heartbeat first, noticing it was a little high but not in the danger zone. He couldn't expect her to have a normal rhythm after a car crash.

Once he pressed it to (Y/n)'s stomach, he felt her grip his wrist while he dragged his thumb across her bump and leaned in close.

"Little fast, but otherwise they sound okay. Let's get you all out."

"I got her," Tommy murmured to Hen so they could switch places. He would rather get Daisy out himself. The girls took after (Y/n), they weren't great with strangers whereas Chris was the social butterfly of the group. Tommy wanted to get Daisy out so she knew she was safe and that he wasn't about to leave her.

Plus, it wouldn't be nice for Daisy to scream in Hen's ear when they'd only just met.

He could tell Hen wanted to say something along the lines of 'careful' or 'don't move the glass' but she held her tongue. Tommy was one of them. He knew what he was doing.

"Come here Daisychain."

He looped her small arms around his neck and carefully wedged his left arm beneath her legs. Doing his best not to jostle her left leg. He didn't want to hurt her or cause any damage.

Once she was up, Tommy smothered his lips against the top of her head and turned to set her on the gurney Hen had taken from Bobby.

"Daddy…"

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll ride in the ambulance with you." He unhooked her arms from his neck but kept hold of her hand so she knew he wasn't going to leave her. Eddie was going to have to ride with (Y/n) and they would split the kids between them so none of them were on their own.

Tommy glanced back over his shoulder to see Eddie stood with (Y/n)'s arm around his neck and his arm around her waist. He tucked her into his side and helped her start walking away from the car. While Chris and Cassie moved to stand next to Eddie, waiting for instructions as to where they were going and what they would be doing from here on out.

"Let's get you to the hospital, little lady." Hen smiled down at the youngster while she looked towards the ambulance.

She could tell it was going to be a struggle getting an IV line into Daisy's hand. Leaving that for the doctors might be the best course of action. They could sedate her and get her sorted with everything she needed while she was in surgery. Hen didn't want to traumatise Daisy any further.

But just as they made their way towards the ambulance, Hen stopped the gurney when Tommy paused.

His attention was focused elsewhere.

Daisy had hold of Tommy's left hand in a death grip, but his eyes weren't looking down at his youngest anymore. He was staring ahead at Chimney who was helping a driver out of his car.

It was the driver who had gone through a red light and hit them. The driver that had caused all of this mess, who had injured Tommy's partner and all three of his kids. And seeing the driver climb out of the car, leaning heavily on Chimney while he wobbled and flopped onto the bonnet with a dazed look in his eyes made Tommy's blood boil.

"Is he drunk?"

His sharp tone caused everyone to look at him before they all looked across at the driver.

Chris held onto Eddie's free hand and pushed into his side while Cassie stood just behind (Y/n) and Eddie, her good hand tucked into Eddie's jacket pocket so they didn't lose her. She pressed her face into Eddie's back, shivering at her dad's tone. That was his unhappy voice.

Eddie looked between Chimney and Tommy, unsure who was going to move or talk first. He knew what was going through Tommy's mind, it was the same thoughts Eddie himself was having. A drunk driver had caused all this damage. He had gotten behind the wheel in that state and caused all of this to happen.

And Chimney's expression told Tommy he was right in his assumptions.

"Tommy, go in the ambulance-" Chimney pointed over at the ambulance before he tried to reel the drunk driver up off the bonnet. He needed to go sit him down on the pavement and try to get him on an IV to sober him up. He needed to get a neck brace on him to help with the concussion and check his arm which seemed to be broken.

They also had to wait for the police to arrive and take his details so they knew who had caused this crash and who to prosecute. Starting a fight in the middle of this mess wasn't going to help anyone.

"You're seriously pissed up? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

(Y/n) shivered and pushed into Eddie before they moved over towards Hen and Tommy. Daisy was starting to whimper, clutching Tommy's hand tighter so he didn't leave her when he looked like he was about to walk away from her and start a fight.

When they got close, Eddie leaned down and wrapped his free arm around Chris. He lifted his boy up and sat him down on the end of the gurney. He could ride with Daisy and Tommy while Eddie took the girls in another ambulance and met them all down in the emergency room.

"Babe leave it." He reached his hand out and held onto Tommy's shoulder, shaking him until he looked back at them. "Not in front of the kids."

"He's endangered all of them because he got behind the wheel with a bottle of whiskey!"

Tommy could feel the rage bubbling away inside of him. He was desperate to go over there and sink his fists into that driver. He wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing and what he thought he could achieve by driving whilst intoxicated. Or why he thought he had the right to endanger everyone else on the road just because he thought he could.

But the way Chris held onto his arm and Daisy pulled on his hand made Tommy look back down at them.

He could start a fight later once everyone was seen to by a doctor and all sorted and cleared. Now wasn't the time or the place, not when all three kids were watching and needed medical attention.

"We'll meet you there." Eddie pressed a tender kiss to Tommy's shoulder before he scooped Cassie up and sat her on his hip while his right arm stayed around (Y/n).

They would sort this all out.

They would get all of them seen to by a doctor and get Daisy in for immediate surgery which was not going to go down well when she realised what would have to happen. Once everyone was tended to, Eddie would have a word with Bobby and see if they could talk to Athena.

And Eddie would have a word with his team and introduce them properly to his family.

[theotherbuckley]

I'm Not Going Anywhere

bucktommy ficlet | 1.4K | G | read on ao3

The first time Evan spends the night over, Tommy panics. He panics when he wakes up in the morning, sun seeping through the gaps of the blinds. He expects to wake to a warm body wrapped around his front, Evan drooling onto his chest adorably, the way he was positioned when they went to sleep. Instead, he wakes up cold. He frowns, his eyes still closed as he lets out a groggy grumble, reaching out and fumbling with the sheets trying to locate his boyfriend. He slaps around at nothing but cold sheets. That’s when his eyes snap open and the panic seeps in. Because Evan’s not there. Hasn’t been for a while, as the coldness of the space beside him suggests.

Tommy should have known better. He doesn’t have many, if any, people who seem to want to stick around for him. His parents always thought he was more hassle than he was worth. He was constantly tossed between them during the divorce, neither one seeming too interested in keeping him for any longer than their agreement stipulated. His first girlfriend didn’t love him, which he supposes was only fair since he could never love her either. That didn’t make it hurt any less when she gave up and left. He caught his first boyfriend cheating on him when he came home early from a shift. They’d just lost a kid and his captain had sent him home. He had wanted to come home to his boyfriend, cuddle on the couch, watch some dumb romcom to cheer himself up. Instead he came home in a sleep-deprived daze, not registering the sounds coming from inside the apartment until it was too late. He didn’t have it in him to do anything more than let the tears stream down from his blood shot eyes. His boyfriend and his— whatever— left without even an apology. It was then that Tommy told himself he’d never let himself fall for something that wasn’t real.

The point is that Tommy should really know better. He thought maybe Evan was different, that he would want to stick around. But it had only been their first night together to have Evan scared off and running for the door. Tommy sighs, rolling onto his back and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling. He debates spending the day moping in bed, but his bladder forces him to get up. After relieving himself he patters back to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong. Did he come on too strong? Did he do something? Or was there just something wrong with him? 

A knock at the doorway startles him out of his spiral and he turns to see a half dressed Evan leaning against the frame. His hair is sticking out in every which direction, full of unkempt light brown curls. He looks ridiculously adorable standing there in his boxers and what looks to be one of Tommy’s shirts. It hangs loosely around Evan’s body, it fits Evan well actually, but it’s very different to the normally snug, tight fitting shirts that Evan normally wears, the ones whose buttons seem to be constantly fighting for their life. The sight of Evan in his clothing sends a wave of heat through his body, a warmth settling somewhere deep in his chest, chasing away the negative spiral of thoughts in his mind.

“Thought I heard you get up,” Evan says, grinning at Tommy who’s still stuck staring at the beautiful man in front of him. “I—I made breakfast, I hope you don’t mind,” Evan continues, ducking his head as a dusting of red blooms across his cheeks and down his neck. 

Tommy smiles at him then, a wide smile that has his eyes crinkling in the corner. He gets up, walking over towards Evan and placing his fingers gently under his chin, lifting softly so that Evan has to look at him. “You made me breakfast?” Tommy repeats softly, unable to hide the awe in his voice. 

Evan tries to duck his head again but Tommy doesn’t remove his hand from his chin. 

“Yeah. Is that— is that okay?” He looks so shy and nervous and that simply won’t do. Tommy leans forward, presses a chaste kiss to Evan’s lips, once, twice, three times because he simply can’t resist. Evan’s cheeks now almost match the colour of his birthmark. Tommy thinks he may just be the cutest man to ever exist. 

“More than okay, thank you,” Tommy says, his voice cracking lightly with sleep. Evan beams at him, standing up straighter, feeling much more confident now. Tommy wraps his arms around Evan’s waist, pulling him flush against him and tucking his head into the curve of his shoulder, unable to stop himself from seeking a little bit more comfort from his boyfriend.

“You okay?” Evan asks when Tommy finally pulls back. He’s always so caring, always able to sense when something’s not quite right.

Tommy nods, “Better now,” he says sincerely. 

Evan tilts his head a silent question to elaborate if he chooses. Tommy ducks his head this time. “I just—” Tommy shakes his head, “didn’t know where you went,” he finishes.

Evan’s expression drops and his eyes widen as the pieces click together. He’s quick to apologise, “I’m so sorry Tommy, I—I didn’t think! I just wanted to do something nice for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you wake up, I’m so—” Tommy cuts off his rambling with a sweet kiss to his lips. 

“I know, baby,” Tommy says gently, the pet name slipping out. 

Evan blushes the prettiest shade of pink and he smiles. “Good, cause—cause I’m not going anywhere, just so you know,” he says confidently. “Unless— unless you get sick of me,” Evan adds, insecurely seeping out.

“Don’t think that’s possible,” Tommy admits.

“Good, good. Come on I made pancakes,” Evan says, dragging Tommy by the arm towards the kitchen. He stops suddenly and Tommy crashes into the back of him. He raises his eyebrow at him quizzically. Evan simply smiles, hand coming up to rest on the back of his head and Tommy finds himself being pulled into a much deeper kiss, a startled moan leaves his lips but it only seems to spur Evan on more. Evan finally pulls back for air, placing another two chaste kisses to his lips before deeming that to be good enough. “Good morning,” he says in a way that has butterflies blooming in his stomach. He thought he was too old to feel this way but with Evan he can’t help but feel like a teenager with a crush. 

“Mmm, good morning indeed,” Tommy murmurs, unable to resist pulling Evan back in for another quick peck. 

Evan chuckles, a sound that Tommy could happily listen to on repeat. “Come on, the food will get cold.”

Tommy follows him out to the kitchen, eyes widening when he sees the food laid out. He didn’t even know he had that much food in his pantry. “You made this all for me?” Tommy says, voice heavy with emotion.

“Of course,” Evan replies simply, settling himself into one of the seats at the kitchen island. “I hope that’s alright,” he says again, and Tommy doesn’t miss the way Evan looks to him for assurance. 

Tommy smiles at him, pulling out the chair beside Evan. He places a soft kiss to Evan’s cheek, before sitting himself down. “Thank you,” Tommy says.

The breakfast is one of the best that Tommy has had in a while. He can’t help but moan after he takes his first bite. He looks up at Evan who’s practically scoffing away at his pancakes in a way that Tommy should not find as adorable as he does. He lets out a chuckle, unable to look away from his boyfriend.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Evan says when he notices Tommy staring. He brings his hands to his face, wiping at it in an attempt to get off something that isn’t even there.

Tommy shakes his head fondly. “No, no, just admiring the view,” he says, smiling at Evan, relishing in the way Evan immediately goes pink. Tommy loves how easy it is to make him blush, how easy praise affects him. He makes sure to take note of that for later. “You look good in my clothes,” he tells Evan, who only seems to get redder. Yeah, Tommy thinks, he could get used to this.

[linkito]

What's this au that watcher/vex art was similar to? Tell me all the things? -🎀

It’s less of an au and more of just an idea for a start of something? Either way~

It begins with young Watcher-in-training Grian fleeing from the Watchers, finding refuge in a cave that draws him in with some kind of powerful magical aura. He hopes it can mask his trace.

Unfortunately for him, it’s the home of a large, monstrous vex (Scar). He’s very feral and scraggly looking, and he has some awful magic-locked cage muzzle/gag on, leaving his teeth constantly bared and preventing him from speaking. (It doesn't make him safe by any means; he still has claws and various weapons of past attackers scattered around.)

But he’s not attacking Grian. Not yet. Not on sight. He mostly just...watches with narrowed slitted eyes, waiting for something that doesn’t seem to be coming. 

Grian is frightened, has no weapon, and he’s significantly smaller. The vex should be able to take him down easily.

So eventually they reach this sort of neutral state of neither of them moving any closer. Grian creeps along the walls and eventually, slowly, settles himself down to sit to rest his poor shaking legs. Scar stares for a moment longer, then also sits, still watching.

Grian figures maybe as long as he doesn’t provoke this beast, he’ll be safe.

(And it's true. Scar is used to people coming in here to steal and demand to make deals with him. Grian clearly didn't mean to be here though. But he's keeping a watchful eye. He doesn't trust it.)

Eventually, Grian thinks maybe the vex is asleep. So he takes this time to meditate. His real eyes close, and hee opens his Eyes to try to determine if the Watchers are on his trail yet, reaching out as far as he can to Look.

When he opens his real eyes again, Scar is directly in front of him, staring more curiously, sort of like he’s wondering if his intruder just died whilst sitting up straight.

Grian yelps and bonks his head on the wall trying to scramble backward.

But Scar also yelps (although muffled) and flails back as well.

And despite everything... Grian can’t help but laugh at that? Because why is he startled? 

Now that he’s closer, though, he can make out the Watcher’s symbol on the lock of the cage on Scar’s head. And being spiteful of anything the Watchers might do, he reaches out without even really thinking about it. 

Scar freezes.

He lets Grian touch the trap around him, but he still doesn't know for sure this isn’t an elaborate trick? Something to get close and take him down? It would have been Grian's only way of winning, truly. So Scar places a clawed hand close to Grian's neck. He's slow and soft with the touch, but it’s undeniably threatening. If Grian was going for some kind of trap here, surely he'd flinch back?

But Grian swallows nervously and tries his best to reassure the vex that he wants to help.

And, eventually, Scar removes his hand and cranes his head to help Grian look at the contraption, also baring his neck, tentatively trusting.

Grian breaks the seal and slooooowly pulls the thing off of Scar, and oh Scar is so happy.

He grins, big and toothy (full of sharp edges, but it's still so oddly charming?) and grabs Grian to spin him excitedly.

He speaks now, (and oh if his voice isn't also so charming) and he lifts Grian up, looks up at him, lips far too close. "Oooh my gosh, I swear I could kiss you right now!" he exclaims, but he doesn't, a shame, really, and instead puts Grian back down and just starts excitedly introducing himself.

In this case, Vexes have like unlimited magical potential. But they are limited by only being able to use it under the direction of someone else. (thinking like how evokers summon them and direct them) The catch is, vexes are tricky creatures. They can and will warp your instructions to their liking if you leave any room for loopholes or leeway. That’s part of the reason Scar was gagged. To prevent him from swindling you into a bad deal.

So normally Scar would do whatever he could to bend the rules and screw over his master, but he’s so overwhelmingly happy at being freed that he says to Grian, “Anything you want! It’s yours. Anything at all, no tricks, no nothing.” And he means it, too.

And that’s all I really came up with! Like I said, just a beginning.

I think Grian should ask about that kiss.

[adkawariatka]

So it’s a follow up of my previous post. it’s Tim perspective on how Damian changed and his reactions to them.

Tim wos tired but that’s nothing new. He should have slept at least two hours at night, but what’s done is done. He sits at the kitchen table sipping his third espresso and watching his siblings. When Bruce enters he looks at those present and seems to count. Ha that might be needed Tim thinks. After third attempt of his murder by demon brat that’s expected. Speaking of demons… Tim hasn’t seen Damian outside patrol for quite long. Not that he is complaining not having constant threat to your life around is nice but demon still should be at manor. Maybe Tim missed something when he wos looking into his case for last two weeks…

-Does someone saw Damian in manor lately?

When no one answers the question Tim sits straighter. That’s bad news really bad news.

-he wos at patrol tonight but outside from that no.

Dick answers. Well it’s Sunday at 10:00 in the morning. It’s not impossible for Damian to go out but where? It’s not as he has any friends. Tim snorts to his thoughts. He imagined demon brat talking to other kids „incompetent idiots that’s not how you hold katana!!!”. So no he doubts that possibility. He can see Bruce’s jaw tighten in worry. Ok so they need to find the brat. Before they can get serious about any action they hear front doors open and Alfred greetings

-Good morning Master Damian

And the demon enters kitchen as if nothing wos wrong. As if going out of manor as 10 year old alone wos acceptable. He greets father then Dick and to his suprise him also. And tries to go to the living room but Bruce stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

- where were you?

Tim winces it sounds more as a growl than a perfectly civilized question. Bruce parenting skills are shit as always. He knows that it’s out of worry but still….

-I wos on a walk

Damian is perfectly calm. That’s good. Tim is too tired for furious demon right now.

- who give you permission to go out without supervision?

And Damian watches him carefully. Tim can see him taking slow deep breaths. Huh, weird.

-you told me to make friends so I am working on it.

Tim almost spits his coffee. Working on making friends!? He hopes that any children that Damian chased with his katana are unharmed.

- you shouldn’t go out without anyone knowing where you are going. You need permission

-I am not a kid I can take care of myself!

There is the demon that Tim knows.

-it’s not a matter of being a kid or not. I need to know where you are as your guardian I am responsible for your safety

-tyt it’s pretty clear that I can protect myself

-but in this family you don’t need to. We have different rules.

And Tim saw something that he never saw before. Damian hestitated. Took a deep breath and asked like a civilized human being without anger or insults

- then if I inform you where I am going and when I will be back I can go?

Tim can’t believe it. Demon brat is… talking. With words like normal human being. Tim checks his coffee. He really needs to sleep more. Halucinations are bad sign.

-

But sleeping didn’t change the fact that Damian acted weird. After school and patrols he disappeared for „walks”. Tim knew something wos going on. But Bruce let it go. Damian started to inform him where he went and for how long and it actually checked. Dick even checked his location and everything lined up. But that wosnt the end of strange behaviors from Damian. The demon brat often glanced at Tim when they were in the same room. Not stared but glanced trying to be subtle. Well like for assassin training he wosnt so stealthy as he probably thought. Tim expected another attack soon. He started to carry battarangs with him around the house. when he started doing that and Damian caught on he did even weirder shit.

Imagine one evening when they were all in the living room and Damian enters. Of course with his katana that he keeps with himself at all times in the manor becouse Bruce forbidden him outside of hause and procedes to lock eyes with Tim and leaves his weapon near the door. Tim is staring at Damian as if he grew second head and he isn’t the only one.

From that time whenever Damian is in the same room as Tim he leaves his katana close to the door. Tim smells a trap. Whatever the brat is doing it can’t be good. Even if that gesture is kind of reassuring…. Tim is no fool. He will not be swayed by nice words or acknowledgment of his work or even leaving weapons outside of range of Damian’s hand.

One day after patrol, when Tim started to get ready for going to his room. To work of course, becouse the sharp eyes of Alfred didn’t leave him for a moment and distracted him from his case. He realised he is not alone. Damian followed him like shadow. Tim didn’t speed up his walking to not let the demon realize that he knew about his presence. Slowly he closed fingers around his batarang to make sure he will par first blow of katana. They were before Tim’s room when Damian started to speak

- Drake can we talk?

That sounded off. Damian didn’t talk he stabbed. More often Tim than anything else. But he sounded hestitant…. Well he has a weapon and when they enter his room they will be on his ground. He will know environment and hidden weapons there. He will have huge adventage when the fight will barek out.

-Sure why not

Tim let’s them in. He allows Damian to enter first. That way he has his back to Tim it’s safer that way. When the door closes Damian turns around Tim grips batarang in his pocked and waits for the start…. And nothing. Damian stands in the middle of his room locks his eyes with Tim’s and glances at his hand in his pocked. In the well lighted room it’s no mistakening that shape for anything different than a weapon. And then his guest procedes to holds his hands up palms to Tim in universal sign of no violence. Tim is dumbfounded. Damian clears his throat and starts:

- Drake I have been doing some reaserch… and it turned out I wos…. Misinformed. My past actions towards you were caused by my lack of knowledge and I shouldn’t have attacked you. I will not repeat that mistake again. I mean no harm to you…. Anymore

- What? Misinformed?! You stabbed me! Multiple times!

- I am aware Drake And I…

- no if you think that I will buy this story then You are delusional and

- I am sorry Timothy!

Damian cut him off. And Tim shut his mouth and looked at Damian. Really looked. He wos fidgeting and he actually flinched when he raised his voice. He stared at the floor and squized his hand so hard that it must have hurt. Tim stared in shock.

- Holy shit you are serious

Damian raised his gaze at Tim. And nodded. For once he looked as 10 year old boy. God Tim wos a dumbass. Damian WOS 10 years old. And lately he tried to be non-threatening towards Tim. Every weird action linked into a pretty clear picture. it looks like Damian finally realized his actions were wrong and came to Tim…. And Tim shouted at him.

- I ok let’s make things clear you realized you were wrong after what 8 months of leaving under one roof together? And…

Damian started to shrink in on himself and Tim stopped himself shit he wos doing it wrong. He crouched to be at Damian’s eye level and started again.

- No sorry first things first thank you for telling me. I appreciate the gesture. And lack of weapons for last month… It’s good to know you won’t try to kill me anymore. I don’t think I can just forget of what you did but… we can try to work it out. What do you say?

-that sounds reasonable Timothy.

Wow its so weird to agree with the brat… no Damian. Wait did he call him by his name!? While Tim wos trying to organize his thoughts Damian murmured something that caught his attention, that probably wosnt for Tim to hear.

-he wos right…

- It wos draining patrol I won’t take more of your time Drake. Good night

-who wos right?

Tim wosnt going to let that go. Someone talked Damian into doing this and he needs to know who. Dick wos unsuccessful in teaching Damian in basic human interactions. So must be someone outside. Bruce is too much emotionally conspirated, maybe Alfred. If yes then there is no reason to worry. But someone from outside could have hidden goals. It wos dangerous. Damian seemed suprised by his question but did not hestitate.

- My friend

And wosnt that a mistery. Tim needed to check that „friend” no matter what. He could be using Damian or plotting to hurt Wayne’s. But he wosnt going to let his suspicion break just created string of trust with his younger brother. He will check that stranger on his own in a way that Damian won’t realize. For know that wos enough. Damian wos opening the doors to go to his room when Tim added

- what happend to Timothy?

Damian slammed the door in his face. And Tim burst out laughing. He wos not going to let that go.

[thewulf]

Unseen Scars || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - hiyaa, i was hoping you were willing to write another Hotch x bau!reader. Maybe one where reader is in an unhappy/ toxic relationship, maybe abvsive even. And Hotch helps reader learn that what her significant other is doing is wrong, and he even helps reader get out of the absive relationship. And somewhere along the way he says something along the lines of “i can love you so much better than them”.

A/N: Not sure if I love this one. Kinda tough to write. Let me know your thoughts below.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Abuse (physical and mental), bruises, scars, talks of hitting, general CM triggers

You've been working alongside Aaron Hotchner for nearly a decade. Each year adding layers to a complex yet unspoken bond. As senior agents in the BAU you've shared long nights on cases. Him as your superior but respecting you as his equal. Both supported each other through victories and losses. You had the kind of mutual respect that's created from high-stress environments. Through it all there's always been an underlying current of attraction between you two. Subtle yet undeniable no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

When Hotch was married to Haley he was completely off-limits. It was a boundary you’d never dram of crossing. One you respected without question even as your friendship deepened. Then tragedy struck with Haley's death and while you were there to support him your own life was tangled in a serious relationship. By the time your relationship crumbled Hotch had started seeing Beth. And like the cruel joke life was, timing kept you apart once again.

Eventually, that relationship too ended for Hotch. But by then you had drifted into the arms of someone new. Someone the whole team disliked from the start. You brought him to a team dinner once and it was enough to know that no one approved even though they wouldn’t outright say it. He was arrogant, dismissive, and rubbed everyone the wrong way. But you were in a vulnerable place feeling lonely and somewhat unlovable after your string of failed relationships. He was there though. He was persistent and in a weak moment that felt like enough.

Despite the obvious red flags, you clung to the relationship out of a misplaced sense of necessity. You’d convinced yourself that any attention was better than the loneliness that echoed too loudly in the corners of your life. Yet, as the months wore on the relationship took a darker turn. It left you isolated not just from your friends and colleagues but from your own sense of self. You were slowly losing yourself to a man who hardly meant a thing to you.

You texted Hotch early in the morning. Your fingers hesitating over the keyboard before you sent a simple message: Running late today, see you by midday. The message feels sterile, too impersonal for the turmoil churning inside you. But you can't afford to say more. Not when every moment feels like a step through a minefield.

It's nearly noon when you finally push through the front doors of the BAU office with your mind rehearsing the excuses you might need. The bruise hidden beneath your scarf isn't just a reminder of last night's horror. It's a stark, physical manifestation of a boundary cruelly crossed. It wasn’t the first time he’d laid hands on you, but it was the first time it left a mark visible enough to demand a story. A story you hadn't yet managed to straighten out in your head. And if anybody was going to catch you in a lie it was Aaron Hotchner.

As you enter the building the buzz of the office feels both alien and overly familiar, a stark contrast to the silence you’d left behind at your apartment. You try to blend into the activity, nodding along to conversations you barely hear, laughing at jokes that don’t reach your eyes. You keep your posture deliberately casual, avoiding any movement that might shift your scarf and expose the truth lying so treacherously close to the surface.

From his office Hotch had been subtly watching your delayed arrival and your interactions with the team. His concern deepens with each forced smile and carefully measured laugh you muster. He's always respected your privacy. But today the instincts honed by years of profiling scream that something is terribly wrong with you. When the office finally starts to empty for the day, leaving behind the quiet hum of machines and the soft rustling of papers, he sees his chance to talk to you.

"Could I speak with you for a moment before you head home?" Hotch’s invitation comes just as you’re preparing to escape into the welcome anonymity of the evening. His voice is gentle. But there’s an undercurrent of urgency that stops you in your tracks. Reluctantly, you nod you head and followed him into the sanctuary of his office. The door closed softly behind you leaving you trapped with the one person who could unravel you with a simple look.

Inside his office the usual barriers of rank and protocol seem to fall away as he leans against his desk. His eyes were not just those of a supervisor, but of a friend—a protector. "I’ve noticed you’ve been different lately," he begins. His tone soft but firm. "You said you were running late today… but I can't help feeling there’s something more to it." His eyes briefly scan the edge of your scarf before meeting yours with a piercing intensity. "If there's anything you need to talk about, I'm here."

In that moment with the weight of his gaze and the sincerity in his voice the carefully constructed excuses crumble. The reality of your situation, so starkly isolated by his understanding, begins to seep through the cracks of your facade and you feel the first real breath of relief mixed with fear as you consider confiding the truth.

Hotch's eyes were filled with a deep, unmistakable concern. They stay locked on yours as he waits for your response. You feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with unspoken questions and worry. For a brief moment you consider continuing the charade. Brush off his concerns with a practiced smile and a reassurance that you're just tired, overstressed from the workload.

"Really, Hotch, I’m fine," you say. Your voice was steady at first but even as the words leave your lips they sound hollow. Unconvincing even to your own ears. His expression doesn’t waver. Those knowing eyes don’t buy the half-hearted lie.

"Are you sure?" he presses. His tone soft yet insistent. "Because if something—or someone—is hurting you, I want to help." He gave you that look. The one that he knew would break you down. The one that he used only when necessary.

You shake your head though. A simple reflex to protect your precarious world. But your facade is cracking, fissures widening under his gentle scrutiny. "It’s nothing, really. Just been a bit clumsy lately," you attempt to deflect again. But your voice wavers, betraying the turmoil inside.

Hotch's brow furrows slightly. His concern only deepening as he notices the strain behind your words. When you turn away, unable to meet his probing gaze any longer, a tear escapes trailing down your cheek. Your shoulders tremble with barely suppressed sobs. It was that damn look that had you falling apart. Who knew he could do that to you?

He doesn’t say anything for a heartbeat, allowing the silence to settle around you, heavy and expectant. With careful, measured steps, he closes the distance between you. You sense him nearby. His presence a comforting shadow in your moment of vulnerability.

“Hey,” Hotch’s voice is a soft whisper now. When he gently places a hand on your shoulder, it’s an offer, not a demand. You don't pull away and that’s all the confirmation he needs. With tender caution he pulls you into a hug. His arms offering safety, a haven from the storm you’ve been weathering alone. The warmth and solidity of him is grounding and as you lean into his embrace, the dam breaks. Tears were streaming freely now.

He doesn’t rush you nor does he bombard you with questions. He simply holds you, steady and strong, as you let the first wave of relief and acknowledged pain wash over you.

As Hotch's arms encircle you in a gentle embrace a rush of emotions overwhelms you each one more turbulent than the last. Instead of relief a sharp panic claws its way up your chest. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness, it all becomes too much. Your breathing becomes shallow, rapid, as if you can't get enough ai. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, threatening to burst.

"Hotch, I—I can't," you stammer. Your voice choked with rising fear. The room feels as if it's closing in. Each wall inching closer, trapping you in this raw, exposed moment.

He senses the shift immediately with his hold loosening just enough to let you breathe, but he doesn’t let go knowing you need a tether to the present. "Hey, look at me," Hotch says, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the storm of your panic. You barely manage to lift your eyes to his as you were caught in the whirlwind of your emotions.

"Take a deep breath with me, okay?" he guides gently. "In... and out," he continues, his own breaths exaggerated to model a slow, calming rhythm. His eyes are soft, patient, holding yours with a steadiness that feels both terrifying and comforting.

You try to follow as your first attempt is shaky and uneven. But Hotch is there. His presence a constant reassurance. "That’s it, just breathe. In... and out," he repeats with his voice grounding you in the moment. Slowly, the frantic pace of your heart begins to slow. The crushing weight in your chest easing as you synchronize your breathing with his.

"You're safe here with me," Hotch whispers to you. Each word carefully chosen to fortify the fragile peace you're beginning to feel. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I’ve got you. I promise." And you knew that it was indeed a promise. He’d never let anything happen to you if he could stop it.

His reassurances wash over you. His voice was a soothing balm to the raw edges of your panic. Gradually your fear subsides and is replaced by a weary relief. As your breathing evens out Hotch’s arms remain a gentle, unyielding presence around you. In this quiet space with the security of his embrace shielding you from the world outside you finally allow yourself to feel the full weight of your vulnerability—and the strength of the trust you have in him.

The panic attack recedes like a tide going out. It left you drained but inexplicably more grounded than before. Hotch holds you a little while longer making sure you're completely calm before he speaks again. "You’re not alone in this," he assures you as his tone is imbued with an earnestness that makes you believe him. That there might be a way out of the darkness.

As the last of your tears dry Hotch steps back slightly giving you space but keeping his presence comforting and solid. He ushers you to sit without words before pulling up a chair close to yours. His demeanor still radiating calm and concern. You notice his jaw tighten for a moment, a silent tell to his anger at seeing you hurting so openly.

As you finally voice the painful truth, "He's been hurting me, Hotch," the words echo starkly in the quiet office. Saying it aloud makes it all too real. A wave of embarrassment washes over you. Your gaze drops to your hands, fidgeting with the ends of the scarf. You can't bear to meet his eyes as you were afraid of what you might see there—pity, shock, or worse, disbelief.

Your fingers tremble as you slowly unwrap the scarf from around your neck, exposing the harsh evidence of your partner's violence. The bruises are stark against your skin. A palette of black and blue that makes your stomach churn. When Hotch sucks in a breath, a sound of sharp distress, you flinch, the sound bringing home the reality of your exposure.

"I'm so sorry," Hotch breathes out. His voice thick with emotion. You still can't look at him being too overwhelmed by a mix of shame and the relief of finally sharing your burden. The room suddenly feels too small. The air too thick with the weight of your confessed reality.

"You don’t have to go through this alone anymore," Hotch continues. His voice a steady, grounding force in the chaos of your emotions. Despite his words a knot of anxiety tightens in your chest. The vulnerability of the moment making you acutely uncomfortable.

Hotch's chair scrapes softly against the floor as he moves slightly closer. "I'm here, and we'll do whatever it takes to ensure he can't hurt you again," he says with a resolve that is both reassuring and overwhelming. You finally risk a glance up at him, meeting his gaze. Instead of the judgment you feared, you find only deep concern and a protective firmness. You shouldn’t have expected any less than that from him.

Seeing your hesitation and discomfort, Hotch reaches out slowly, giving you time to withdraw if you choose. When his hand gently takes yours, it's a lifeline, solid and warm. "We'll figure this out together," he assures you. His voice low and calm. "Let’s focus on what you need right now."

Tears well up in your eyes as you meet his steady gaze. Your fear of your partner bubbling to the surface. "I'm scared, Hotch," you whisper, your voice breaking with the weight of your admission. "I'm afraid of what he might do if I leave. He could do something drastic..." The possibility hangs heavily between you. A dark cloud of fear.

Hotch squeezes your hand gently. His touch reassuring as it always is. "We'll take every precaution," he promises with his tone imbued with determination. "You're not alone in this. We have resources and procedures to protect you. Trust me Y/N. You're safe."

His words were spoken with such a conviction that slowly penetrate the fog of your fear. The immediate comfort of knowing you're not alone, bolstered by Hotch's unwavering support, helps to steady the tumult inside you. The future may remain uncertain but with Hotch by your side you feel a spark of hope. A hope that perhaps you can break free from the shadows and rebuild your life once again.

The conversation with Hotch stretches late into the evening as a mix of detailed planning and moments of quiet support. Once the office empties and the building quiets Hotch makes a decision. "Why don't you stay with me tonight?" he suggests gently. "It's late and I'd feel better knowing you're safe." You agree, feeling a mix of gratitude and anxiety about the imposition. Hotch reassures you it's no trouble. Together you leave the dimly lit office, stepping into the cool night air that seems to offer a breath of tentative freedom.

The drive to his home is quiet, filled with the soft hum of the car and the distant glow of streetlights. Upon arriving, Hotch introduces you to his home with a warmth that's both inviting and respectful of your space. He shows you to the guest room making sure you have everything you need before he leaves. "Make yourself at home," he says. "We'll figure out the next steps in the morning." You give a grateful nod before heading to bed yourself. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep after your head hit the pillow. You’d truly never felt safer than you had right then.

The next morning as you make your way to the kitchen, Jack spots you and his face instantly lights up. "You're here!" he exclaims before running towards you with arms wide open. You kneel down just in time to catch him as he launches into a big hug. His enthusiasm bringing a genuine smile to your face. "I missed you!" he chirps, and you can't help but laugh, the sound mingling with his giggles.

Hotch watched the interaction from the doorway and smiles warmly but also feels a pang of concern given your recent ordeal. As Jack wraps his arms around you, Hotch steps forward and gently places a hand on his son's shoulder. "Be careful, buddy," he says softly, his voice tinged with protective caution. "She's a little hurt."

Jack’s expression immediately shifts to one of concern as he pulls back slightly. His bright eyes scanning your face with a mix of confusion and worry. "Did I hurt you more?" he asks, his voice small, his usual cheer replaced by a serious, almost adult-like concern.

You shake your head quickly making sure to offer him a reassuring smile. "No, Jack, you didn’t hurt me at all," you explain while ruffling his hair gently. "I'm just a little sore, that’s all. Your hug is actually just what I needed."

Relieved but still slightly cautious, Jack nods and gives you a gentler, more measured hug this time. Hotch watches this exchange. His own heart swelling with mixed emotions—gratitude for the innocent care Jack shows and a renewed resolve to ensure that both you and his son are kept safe from any harm.

Later as Jack plays outside, Hotch joins you on the porch with a thoughtful expression on his face. He watches his son for a moment before turning to you. His gaze serious yet open. "This morning, seeing you with Jack… the way he lights up around you. It reminded me of something important I've been meaning to share," he chooses his words carefully as he speaks to you.

Your gaze lets him know he can continue. "I ended things with Beth a few months ago," he reveals letting the statement hang in the air for a moment to gauge your reaction. "It was the right decision. My heart wasn't fully in it, and I realized I needed to be honest with myself about my feelings."

You're taken aback. Your surprise evident. "Oh, I... I had no idea. She seemed so lovely," you reply trying to mask your confusion. Beth had always appeared perfect for him. She seemed kind, attentive, and good with Jack.

Hotch nods, acknowledging your point. "She was lovely," he admits, "but she wasn't what I was looking for. Not what Jack needed either." His gaze drifts towards his son, watching him play with a gentle smile.

He then turns back to you with a thoughtful expression. "We needed someone who could really be a part of our lives, understand us. Someone who already fits so seamlessly into our little world," he adds. His eyes held yours for a moment longer than necessary, hinting at deeper layers to his words.

The implication of his statement hangs between you, stirring a mix of emotions between the both of you. His revelation not only adds a new dimension to your understanding of his current situation but also subtly places you at the center of his thoughts. The gentle hint that you might be the answer they needed feels both overwhelming and heartening.

"I just want you to know that I'm here for you, especially now," Hotch continues. His tone sincere. "It's been a tough time and you shouldn't have to go through it alone. Whatever support you need. I'm here."

As you absorb his words, a sense of safety envelops you coupled with a budding realization of the importance of your presence in his life. Not just as a colleague but potentially something more. The careful balance he maintains in offering support while subtly revealing his personal reflections provides a comforting stability as you navigate the complex emotions of your current situation.

Several days had passed since you sought refuge at Hotch's home after breaking things off with your ex. Each day Hotch gently suggests reasons for you to extend your stay. His concern palpable. "Just until we’re sure you’re safe," he reassures you, but his eyes betray a deeper plea for you to remain longer.

One evening after Jack is safely tucked into bed Hotch opens a bottle of wine and pours two glasses. He hands you one with a soft smile that doesn't quite mask his underlying nervousness. "Thought we could use this," he says as he joins you on the couch. The house is quiet, the subtle buzz of the evening creating a cocoon of calm around you.

As you sip the rich wine, the warmth it brings is matched only by the comfort of the familiar space. Hotch breaks the silence first, his voice low and laden with unspoken thoughts. "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking," he starts. Hesitating as he chooses his words carefully. "About what’s important... about what I want for the people I care about."

He pauses before taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "I want you to stay here a little longer. Not just for safety but because it feels right having you here. These days with you and Jack... they’ve felt more like home than anything I've known in a long time."

The atmosphere shifts charged with an emotion that’s both tender and terrifying. Hotch continues with his voice softening, "I think we could be good for each other… if you're willing to see where this might go."

Moved by his candidness and the earnestness in his eyes you find yourself nodding slightly. Your own emotions mirrored in his expression. "I've felt it too," you whisper. "It’s easy with you. With Jack.."

Hotch reaches out, his hand covering yours. His touch warm and sure. "I can love you so much better than he ever did," he says with a confidence you hadn’t heard from him. His voice deep and resolute. Then, taking another deep breath, he adds, "I love you. I love you with everything in me. More than I ever thought possible."

His confession, raw and powerful, cuts through the last of your reservations. Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the depth of his feelings laid bare in the quiet of the night. This isn't just a moment of comfort. It's a turning point, a beginning of something profound and life-altering.

As you sit there, the night deepening around you, you lean into him with your head resting against his shoulder. "I love you too, Aaron," you admit to him. Your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. In the soft glow of the living room, you start to imagine a future that holds not just safety, but a shared life filled with love and understanding.

Two years have woven themselves seamlessly into the fabric of your life with Hotch and Jack. What began as a sanctuary in times of turmoil has blossomed into a full, shared existence, each day deepening the bond between you all. The BAU team, integral to your journey, has watched this transformation and played a part in nurturing your collective happiness.

On a sun-drenched Saturday, Hotch has orchestrated a gathering under the guise of a simple spring barbecue at a picturesque local park. The team is there, along with Jack, who’s energetically darting around with Rossi and Prentiss in a spirited game of soccer. Garcia is setting the mood with a carefully curated playlist while you and JJ are laughing over a shared joke by the picnic tables.

As the afternoon wanes with everyone sated by laughter and good food, Hotch taps his glass gently with a fork drawing eyes with the subtle, familiar command of his presence. The conversations taper off, leaving a blanket of anticipatory silence.

“I’ve spent much of my life dedicated to understanding moments—capturing them before they slip away,” Hotch begins, his voice resonating with a rare tremor of vulnerability. He looks over at you, his eyes shimmering with unspoken words. “But the moments I’ve cherished the most have been with all of you—my team, my family. And especially with you,” he turns fully towards you, taking your hand in his.

Jack, picking up on the significance of the moment, quiets down and moves closer. His young face alight with curiosity and excitement. Hotch’s gaze softens as he kneels in front of you. A gesture that pulls at the heartstrings of everyone present.

“Since you entered our lives, you’ve brought light into shadows I didn’t even know existed. You’ve made a house feel like a home again, and you’ve taught me that love isn’t just a remnant of the past but a promise for the future,” he continues. His voice thick with emotion. From his pocket, he produces a small, velvet box, opening it to reveal a ring that captures the late afternoon sunlight.

“Will you marry me?” His words, simple yet profound, hang in the air.

Tears stream down your cheeks, joyous and unrestrained, as you nod emphatically. Words were lost in the swell of emotions. “Yes, Aaron, yes!”

Jack jumps up, cheering, "She said yes!" His delight infectious bringing the team to erupt into their own cheers. Garcia captures every second, her lens fogging slightly with her own tears.

Spencer, who has been quietly observant, steps forward with a bottle of champagne. “To new beginnings,” he says. His voice steady but emotional, reflecting his deep affection for both of you. He pops the cork, and as the champagne flows, so do the congratulations.

Morgan playfully nudges Hotch, while JJ, ever the emotional heart of the team, hugs you tightly, whispering, “He’s never looked happier.”

You grin to one of your very own best friends. “I’ve never been happier.”

As the evening unfolds with laughter and shared stories, the sense of family deepens. The park was bathed in the glow of sunset, feels like a snapshot of a new chapter. One filled with love and the quiet promise of forever. Your heart, full and overflowing, knows this is just the beginning.

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[glitterjay]

can i ask for enhypen rection at yn waking up from a nightmare?

im still keeping up with all of ur post but i always forget to send something 🤌🏼

have a great day <3

⭐️ anon

⭒ fluff, mention of nightmare, crying, ot7

⭒ c's note: it's nice to see you again in my ask, ⭐️'anon! reblogs are appreciated

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks

heeseung had woken up because he felt the way your body kept moving around on the other side of the bed. "baby?" he called, but he received no answer. he could see from the light coming from outside that your eyebrows were furrowed and how tightly you were holding onto the blanket. he placed a hand on your waist, and you woke up. you sat up straight, sweat dripping off your face and tears running down your eyes. he was quick to bring you into his arms, brushing your hair as a way to calm you down while he tried to sing you back to sleep, just as if you were a baby. he'd ask if you wanted to talk about it or just go back to sleep with his arms wrapped around you to feel safe. it was always your choice.

you had woken up from a very bad nightmare, startled and shaking. you looked around frantically, only to calm down a little after seeing your boyfriend sleeping right next to you. jay had always reassured you that it was okay to wake him up if you needed anything, so you didn't hesitate to call his name. he was quick to sit up with you and talk out what had happened, one of his hands resting on your lower back, rubbing circles to help your fear ease. he'd gladly stay awake all night until you felt well enough to go back to sleep.

jake was busy watching videos on his phone, awake pretty late at night when he noticed how hard and fast you started breathing in your sleep. he set his phone aside, calling your name softly to wake you up. to his dismay, the reason you had woken up was not because you heard him but because the fear you felt was too much for you to handle. "hey, hey, I'm here." he'd hug you really tight, whispering sweet words to calm you down. he'd even offer to show you what he was watching in hopes that'd ease your worries.

sunghoon always slept while cuddling you, one way or another. so when he felt you shake and twist under the covers, he was quick to tighten his grip. he would kiss your cheek, neck, and shoulder blades, reassuring you that you weren't alone and that he was there with you. his hands would caress your skin softly, actually lulling you back to sleep.

sunoo was quick to react when you shot up in fear. your breath was rapid, and your hands were frantically searching for something to hold onto. sunoo offered his hand and carefully let you regain your composure before speaking. he brushed away the strands of hair covering your face, assuring you that it was okay to cry and let it out. he reassured you that he would be there to listen to everything and that nightmares were not something to be ashamed of.

it took jungwon a few minutes to realize you were sitting in the bed, hugging your legs close to your chest. he was quick to ask what was wrong, and when you told him it was a nightmare, his face softened. he'd get up and run to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and the first snack that crossed his path. he'd then sit in front of you and talk you out of it as you drank some water and ate the snack. he'd invite you to take a spot between his legs, claiming it was safer and that no nightmares could get past him, and surprisingly, it's true.

ni-ki sleeps in late most of the time, but it caught him off guard seeing you awake so late at night. you didn't have to tell him for him to notice you had a nightmare, so he'd pull out netflix and put on a kids' show for you. he'd make silly remarks about the characters while one of his hands holds yours, the other drawing patterns on the back of your hand. he'd talk and talk because he knows the noise helps you drift off without thinking about the nightmare, and he'd sigh in satisfaction when you're fast asleep on his shoulder.

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