#if you read my latest chapter and said something nice you are FOREVER in my heart thank u so much

[alyrasturnz]

hii! I love your writing💕💕. I was wondering If you could write matt and bookworm!reader ? I hope you have a nice dayyy!

MY BOOKWORM

❐ summary » matt rarely finds solace in the written word, preferring the tangible world around him. y/n, on the other hand, is a dreamer, her heart and mind forever lost in the pages of books, where every story is a new adventure

❐ pairings » bf!matt x bookworm!reader

❐ warnings » none

❐ a/n && w/c » the workload this week is diabolical af  •  1.31k

┆ bf!matt who loves to watch you get lost in the pages of your favorite books, your eyes lighting up with every twist and turn of the story.

» "what's happening now?" he asks, his eyes studying your expressions intently, watching the way your brows furrow and your lips curl into a smile, even though he hasn't read the book.

"oh, it's so good!" you say, your excitement radiating through every word, making it almost tangible. "the main character just discovered a hidden passage."

he smiles, captivated by the way your animation brings the story to life, each gesture and expression a testament to your passion. "sounds intriguing. maybe i should read it next."

you laugh, the sound bubbling up like a spring, filling the air with a sense of joy that seems to ripple outward, "you haven't read a book since high school, matt."

"true," he confesses with a quiet intensity, "but for you, i'd read anything."

┆ bf!matt who surprises you with rare editions of your favorite books, his face lighting up with pride when he sees your reaction.

» matt entered the room, his steps deliberate and measured, a wrapped package held carefully in his hands. "hey, i have something for you. i think you'll like it," he said, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of excitement, like the first hint of dawn breaking through the night.

your eyes widened with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "what is it, matt?" you inquired, your hand extending towards the mystery that lay within his grasp.

he extended the package towards you, a grin slowly spreading across his face like the rising sun. "open it and see for yourself," he urged, his voice brimming with anticipation.

with eager hands, you meticulously tore open the wrapping paper, each tear revealing more of the treasure within. as the final piece fell away, a rare edition of your favorite book lay before you, its presence almost surreal. your breath caught in your throat. "oh my gosh, matt! this is incredible!" you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of astonishment and joy.

matt's face illuminated with a radiant pride, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "i knew you'd love it. i found it at a little bookstore and just had to get it for you."

overwhelmed with gratitude, you enveloped him in a warm embrace, your emotions pouring forth in an unspoken gesture of appreciation. "thank you so much! this means the world to me," you whispered.

he held you close, his embrace firm yet gentle, his voice a soft whisper that seemed to wrap around your heart. "seeing you this happy is all the thanks i need."

┆ bf!matt who listens intently as you excitedly recount the latest chapter you’ve read, even if he doesn’t fully understand the plot, simply because he loves hearing you talk about what you love.

» matt's eyes were fixed on you as you excitedly recounted the latest chapter you'd read. his expression was soft, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if your words were the sweetest melody. you paused for a moment, noticing his intense gaze, and tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. 

"are you even listening?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your voice carrying a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.

matt blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. "of course," he replied, though the slight hesitation in his voice betrayed him. 

you narrowed your eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "then tell me what happens next," you challenged, crossing your arms and leaning back a little, waiting for his response.

he let out a small sigh, his smile turning sheepish. "okay, fine," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "i might have gotten a bit lost in your words... but i just love listening to you talk about your books."

┆ bf!matt who gently teases you about the stack of books on your nightstand, but secretly loves how passionate you are about reading.

» matt strolled into your room, his gaze immediately locking onto the towering stack of books on your nightstand. with a playful grin, he raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "are you planning to read the entire library?" he teased, his voice light and affectionate.

you rolled your eyes, a knowing smile beginning to tug at your lips. "hey, a girl can never have too many books," you retorted, your arms crossing in a gesture of playful defiance.

matt chuckled softly, his laughter a warm, comforting sound. he stepped closer, his hands gently encircling your waist as he pulled you into an embrace. "i know, i know. it's just impressive how you manage to juggle so many stories at once," he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

you shrugged, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "i just love getting lost in different worlds, you know?" you murmured, your eyes momentarily drifting to the stack of books as if each one held a universe waiting to be explored.

he reached out, his fingers delicately brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "and i love how passionate you are about reading," he said softly, his eyes shimmering with admiration. "it’s one of the many things that make you so incredible."

your cheeks warmed at his words, and you couldn't help but smile, a soft blush spreading across your face. "thanks, matt. and for the record, i might need a new bookshelf soon," you replied, your eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and playful anticipation.

he laughed, the sound rich and full, before pulling you into a warm embrace. "i'll help you build it," he promised, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear, as if sealing a pact between kindred spirits.

┆ bf!matt who occasionally reads you to sleep. each sentence he utters is a lullaby, a melodic cadence that dances through the air, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort and serenity.

» the room was bathed in a subdued luminescence, the bedside lamp's soft glow casting intricate, whispering shadows upon the walls. you were nestled comfortably under the covers, your form gently molded against matt's, his back supported by the headrest. 

your body reclined against his, as if he were a living, breathing mattress, the book resting delicately on your lap. his arms enveloped you from behind, a tender embrace that spoke of unspoken promises and silent serenades.

matt's voice was a soothing melody, weaving an intricate symphony of words that cascaded through the air like a gentle stream, each syllable resonating with a calming cadence that lulled the senses into a state of serene tranquility.

you let out a contented sigh, your eyelids growing increasingly heavy as the tendrils of sleep began to weave their way through your consciousness. "you always know how to make bedtime feel magical, matt."

he smiled, a gentle curve gracing his lips as he closed the book softly, the pages whispering secrets as they met. "it's my favorite part of the day, getting to share these moments with you," he murmured, his voice a tender caress in the quiet room.

you reached out, your fingers intertwining with his in a delicate dance. "i love it too. it makes me feel so at peace," you whispered, your touch conveying a depth of emotion that words alone could scarcely capture.

matt set the book aside with a gentle thud and slid under the covers, enveloping you in his embrace. "sweet dreams, love," he whispered, his breath a warm caress against your ear, filling the space with a tender intimacy.

you snuggled closer, feeling the enveloping warmth and safety of his embrace. "goodnight, matt," you murmured, your voice a soft whisper as you drifted into the realm of dreams, the echo of his voice still resonating in your mind.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re @cerismo

[sugar-champagne]

To the nurses office

Jeffery x Reader

Summary: after getting beat up by Kylar again someone actually takes the time of day to see him he’s ok

Jeffery’s POV:

The day started out like normal. I was reading the latest chapter of Fairy Tale when I was so rudely interrupted by Kylar asking me why I was reading a “picture book.”

And I guess that’s where the argument started. I tried to explain that it was manga, but I guess his small jock brain was too stupid to understand the complexities of these books.

But it was no use. When the arguments ended, like they always do, I was on the floor, and my glasses broke from a punch to the face again. My dad is going to be so mad that my mom will have to buy a new pair.

But something was different about this day, something I never thought would happen, and that’s when I heard the voice of an angel.

It was Y/N. We have never spoken much before, but they always treated me like a real person, they came up to me, held my face, and asked me if I was okay. Not even the sharp sting of the punch could distract me from how soft their fingers felt against my skin.

I tried to answer them and tell them I was okay, but I could do nothing but stumble over my words. I couldn’t help it; they were so close, our faces nearly touching as they inspected my face for serious damage.

After trying to talk once more and stumbling over my words again, they lifted me to my feet like I weighed nothing (I look like I weigh 90 pounds soaking wet).

I stood there, their hand still holding mine. I stumbled a little, but they caught me and wrapped their arm around my waist to hold me up.

I couldn’t articulate how amazing it felt to be in their arms and being pressed so firmly against their side. I could smell the sweetness of their vanilla body spray that they use every day.

We finally made it to the nurse's office, but the nurse wasn't there. She was probably out on her smoke break. This is probably for the better since the nurses are getting sick of me coming in every day, but it’s not my fault I'm surrounded by a bunch of barbarians.

Y/N pulls me forward to the empty chair as they search the nurse's office. They found a pack of Band-Aids and ice packs. Then they sat right next to me. That was the closest i’ve ever been to an such an attractive person before .”. They started to speak again, and my adrenaline finally died down. I started to hear their soft, beautiful voice.

“Wow, he really left a mark on you, didn’t he? You should know better than to even talk to Kylar. You know he can't handle complicated words.” Then Y/N placed an ice pack on my sore cheek, which was a relief to the searing pain in my face.

“They broke my glasses. I just got these fixed the other day. My dad's gonna be so mad,” I said. And just then, Y/N took them out of my hands. “They don't look too bad. This happens to my dad all the time. You could just pop the glass back in the frame… And there we go, all done. Looks like I saved you from another argument, hehe.”

Oh, that laugh. I could listen to it on repeat forever. I don't know why they're so nice to me, but I can't deny I love this attention. “I wonder when you'll stop finally getting into so much trouble. I can't believe anybody would want to even fight you. I mean, look at you,” they said.

They started to gently pinch and rub my cheek, and in that moment, I felt like we were the only people in the world. I can only hope Y/N lets me stay a part of their world.

Hope you all enjoy 😉 more will be made

And to the people who really wanted it

@sakurashana

@iforgottoavoidthenoid

@zaythemain

@jeffery09luvr

[kamidukki]

Hi, please feel free to ignore this if you aren’t caught up with the latest installments of the Akuneko main story. Enjoy things at your own pace. 💜

**Semi-Spoilerish** If you’re all caught up there is a certain character I’m curious about that shows up but can’t find ANYTHING on them. I don’t even know this man’s name, just that he is an entire snack. 🥵 It’s the elf(?) looking guy with long white hair. I do believe he showed up during the chapter that focused on Lato if I recall but he seems to play a bigger part in this latest chapter of the story. If you have any crumbs of information on him I would love you forever and name my first born after you. 😂

Hello there!

Just to make sure, this is the guy you're talking about, right? ⬇️

I have caught up with the main episodes, but not the events so all I can tell you about the elf-looking man derived from there. To be specific, from Ep. 4 Ch. 3 part 7 titled 出会い/The Encounter and Ch. 5 part 8-11 and 13-14.

⚠️ Spoiler alert ⚠️

To be honest, I don't pay attention to him too much when reading, sorry 😭

Indeed, knowing his name would be nice, but I believe that information is yet to be revealed. His name box is always filled with "???" throughout the entirety of Episode 4. What we readers are allowed to know at this point is that he is one of the "valley-dwellers" of the Western Land/西の大地の渓谷の民.

(If this results from my inattention rather than the fact, then I apologise in advance 🙇 I'm pretty sure his name hasn't been dropped though...)

Long story short, the people from there are being kidnapped and the elf guy is looking for them. He refers to the missing people with the word 同胞 (brethren/brothers/compatriot).

The Master, or us readers so to speak, met him by accident in the forest around nighttime. Boschi, Ammon, Muu, and the Master went to visit the grave of Boschi's grandmother. Due to its location, they had to camp out in the forest for the night. The Master, who was awaken from sleep for a reason, heard a noise and went to check the source by themselves.

That was when they saw an injured man, the elf-guy, for the first time. After the Master left for help, the elf was shown to mutter to himself, something along the lines of "A dream? No it's not... So that's what the master of the devil butlers... To think that we'd meet each other here of all places..."

I don't remember exactly what he said, but recall noting that the elf-guy seems to recognise our identity as the devil butlers' master.

(When the Master came back bringing Boschi and Ammon, the man was no longer in the same spot)

You're right about him playing a bigger part in the latest installment, but... /scratch head. Even though I already put a spoiler warning above, I'll say it again just in case. If anyone reading this would like to avoid a major spoiler, don't read what is written below.

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

he's apparently the culprit behind the noblemen kidnapping case, an incident Finlay requests the devil butlers to look into

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

That's all I can remember for the moment, I guess...? Reading what I myself just wrote, I can't help but be aware that this might not be much. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. If something comes up, I'll add it in a reblog or even make a new post.

Have a nice week! 💗

[j2zara]

YAAAAAAY EHEH I GET TO SEND YOU A BUNCH OF ASKS 💖💖💖💖💖(<- these ones are just me being excited)

💖📥👀📊🍰🌝💻🧠

HIIIII SORRY THIS TOOK ALL DAY im so exhausted which is why i feel like my answers are not the best but here u go

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Argh…. Ngl i sent this one to more than one person in the circle of perverts bc I want to force ppl to say nice things abt themselves and now i gotta do the same thing. I feel like my answer before this year would’ve been my dialogue!!!!!!! Like. I do think i’m good at that. It’s hard to even say that because I feel like when I do enjoy a good quip and i feel like whenever i reread my original stuff im like “oh. I’m so marvel brained”. I don’t think dialogue is my strength in cloneverse tho.  At least. I don’t think it stands out. But otherwise that’s what i would land on.

Maybe it’s bc i’ve been in a very sorry for myself slump lately bc my current wip is giving me such a struggle but i don’t even know. Before now and my latest wip driving me crazy I would’ve said. Maybe coherence or theming? Like i don’t even know if thats a thing i CAN say like is it possible to be good at themes? Sorry im being so hard on myself rn I think if i were to look at my writing i would say i think it’s halfway decent but i don’t know the answer to the question…

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

Oh this is an interesting one. For such a long time the answer would’ve been my old Talentswap fic for DR, tbh it always was like. Surprising and honestly kinda nice to get like a random comment of someone being like ‘hey i just discovered this! Sad its not updating but i really enjoyed it!” something like that. And I think b/c it was multichap it was very interesting and different when ppl were reading Almost for sure.

My secret weird answer is IYWD. Like. I’m at peace with the fact that its practically dead and nobody is gonna find it again i guess but a small part of me still considers it my favorite thing i’ve done in a long time so nobody does comment anymore but. That would be the thing i secretly kinda want. I’ll take literally anything tho obviously i love anybody that ever comments on anything.

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

I have a Love is Blind au for a fandom I’m not gonna mention. Idk i might’ve mentioned it somewhere but eh. Its like ten chapters but only the first 5-ish are done i’m kinda 

And i’ve talked abt this this isn’t really a. Like. Oh I’m hiding this forever thing but. I have a DR Togakure hookup fic that’s written like. To take place during a naegiri wedding like in the post first game canon. And it is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written even tho it is smut, ngl my friends have been trying to convince me to post it and i might but im genuinely terrified nobody is gonna read it and im gonna be. Sad about it

📊 Current number of WIPs

Lol um… lj3porter fic. I’m two sentences into twelfth night coded j2 wooing Jace for Porter fic. Unfinished creeper Jace + j2porter fic…  a Jace topping Zara zarajaceporter fic. A fic that is in the IYWD verse that’s like a prequel that’s normal SB related. And if we could old fandoms I have semi abandoned talent swap (the ch 3.3 doc is like 10k lmao). Love is blind au.

If we’re counting original projects. My fantasy pseudo taming retelling. Horror comedy / locked room mystery called Date / Die. I have a. Sports romance (don’t look at me). And my weird lofty rom com thing that is this decade spanning story and used to be abt a “platonic” romance but idk I was like. They’re best friends they’re the most important ppl in the world to each other and they like having sex does that make this a normal romance. Maybe. Maybe not.

So ten. Yikes.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

This is such a weird pull b/c i haven’t read it in years but Wing Man is a Bokuaka fic thats one of my fav of all time that makes me so happy idk its so like. Sweet and tbh i feel bad i never commented on it i really should bc they deserve to know i still think about it. but i just don’t reread fic all that often even my favs.

Actually that’s a lie i just remembered! I’ll cite something recent and i’m a little shy to cite something from the circle of perverts but also this is completely sincere i know i jokingly call @innskeep bambi’s LJ3 fic the perfect piece of fiction all the time but i do reread it… I just like them. I think it’s really cute and i like my little guys…  I love getting J3’s pov so much like i genuinely think its so comforting and special…

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I won’t lie I have a total DurDawn soft spot so like. I do think it wouldn’t fun to write something small for them. Also fucking hilarious as zukkacore that I’ve never written zukka and like. In my heart I would like too but they’re almost too precious for that? It’s hard to explain. Actually another answer might be for Mailee I actually think Mailee is soooooo underrated as a ship bc they have so much potential to be good for each other that wasn’t able to foster under azula’s thumb so I like that slightly toxic edge 

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

I do a little bit of research but honestly not at much as i should. Last super deep dive i did was on the different filipino mythologies and history throughout the different regions bc ithink that subject is so interesting. but that has nothing to do with the sb circle that was for my own stuff. Lately I had to look up a little bit of elvish for something sb related lol. im such a fake fan of LOTR i love it but i’ve never actually read the books

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

A few! I’ve talked abt Jace hireling au I think that would be fun. And I joke abt Clone gamechanger au all the time and I SAID I wanted to try and make it work so like. Maybe. I’d love to try clone gamechanger au i think its funny and cute and i wanna do something indulgent.I feel like i’m forgetting something. Jess has real estate in j2porter vegas roleplay so i kinda wanna try maybe doing J2porter 50s housewife roleplay as a sort of sequel? I still like the idea of doing a You’ve Got Mail Shop Around the Corning fic. And. I feel so so so so indulgent wanting to write LJ3 stuff but like i just like them. I don’t know what i would wann write for them but i just like them

[anchoredarchangel]

HELLO FRIEND! I have come here to yell at you (affectionately, of course) about the latest update of no consequences verse because I am crying big actual tears and I thought about calming DOWN first and writing a really nice, eloquent message about the intricacies of the verse you created and how each one of them impacted me and then I decided I was feeling too strongly about it to NOT say something immediately because I started it a few weeks ago as a casual read and OH BOY FRIEND I AM NOT CASUAL ABOUT IT AT ALL NOW feeling very unwell very not normal about this in a way that has also apparently hindered my ability to use any sort of punctuation but I needed to convey the way the inside of my brain feels right now and I am absolutely going to run out of characters on this message but I literally don't know what to do with myself because I want to give you something back for all of the things you've given ME through your lovely words and I promise most of the time I am not quite this chaotic (this is a lie) but I HOPE YOU ARE FEELING ALL OF THE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you for sharing so much of yourself with us in this work and for allowing us to be validated and comforted through it. cannot wait for the conclusion but also never want it to end. <333

I hope you are having a lovely start to the week, friend! will forever be looking forward to all you have to share moving forward

sarah xx

ok for starters this is so lovely, and also this is unintentional (I think) revenge, as on my sentence Sunday post I justified not posting any of Valour and Cowardice solely because pulling anything out felt like it would be an integral spoiler or an emotional cliffhanger, and I said something along the lines of it being best enjoyed in one breathless sitting. this message, and all of its punctuation, feels much the same way. The love this chapter has been getting has been so incredibly heartwarming. I’ve completely lost track of the number of nervous messages I’ve sent worried about how it would be received considering the absolute wringer the boys get put through, but to me- the payoff was everything I wanted it to be. A deep, emotional gut-punch of so many moments we’d been waiting so long for, and the opportunity to weave in so many of my favorite lines and motifs from the entire series so far. Honestly, some of the writing I’m most proud of, ever. thank you for sending this, it means so so much to me. 🤍

[hahahahahangst]

Honey and glass (Be The Young 33)

TW: [suicidal thoughts, self h*rm, violence, s*xual assault]

Other tags: [sister fic, canon-level violence, dean is an asshole, angst]

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will occasionally break canon✨ .

Summary: Emily Reed, born and raised in Portland, is preparing her admission papers for Stanford, medical school. Little does she know, her life is about to change forever.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: We interrupt the regular programs for some relax. 

MASTERLIST

Honey and glass

I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair but [...] It's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

When they reached Bobby's lot, they moved Anna into the panic room. 

“Iron walls drenched in salt. Demons can't even touch the joint.” Commented Dean, knocking on the walls of the room. Ruby, from the other side of the door, was looking around, disgusted. Emily joined them from the stairs just in time to hear the demon complain: “Which I find racist, by the way.”

“Well that's sad…“ Emily said, sarcastic, walking behind Ruby as she handed Dean some hex bags. “Looks like you won't be able to have the threesome you were hoping for.” 

“Very funny.” Answered the demon, giving Emily her protective bundle. 

“Anna, what's playing on angel radio? Anything useful?” Asked Dean, rolling his eyes at the conversation behind him. 

“It's quiet, dead silence.” 

Just at that moment, Sam joined them as well in the basement. 

“That's not troubling at all.” Continued Dean, ironic. Sam silently took his hex bag. 

“We're in trouble, huh? You guys are scared?” Asked Anna, sitting in the chair in the middle of the room, almost perfectly still. She had a weird vibe, as if she was too calm. Too still. 

Dean, with a strong exhale, said “Nah.”. Sam and Emily exchanged a complicit look as they started to catch some interest their brother had towards Anna. 

However, Sam called Dean's attention to show him the research he had done. 

He closed the panic room's heavy door and the siblings left Anna behind, with Ruby guarding her, and walked back upstairs.

“What've you got?” Asked Emily, rifling through some paper Sam had just placed on the table.

“Uh, not much. Her parents were, uh, Rich and Amy Milton: a church deacon and a housewife.”

“No wonders she went crazy.” Scoffed Dean.

“Yeah. But there is something here in the report. Turns out this latest psych episode wasn't her first. When she was 2 1/2, she'd get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn't her real daddy.”

“Who was?” Asked Dean. “The plumber, mh? A little snaking the pipes?”

“Dude, that's for sure the plot of a porn that was in that motel in Ohio.” Emily answered, putting down the paper. “The plummer used his dick to clean the sink?” 

“Exactly! Wait, how-”

“Guys?!” Sam interrupted Dean and Emily rambling about the porn video and kept explaining. “Anna didn't say who her real father was, but she said he was very mad and wanted to kill her.”

“At 2 years old? That’s not fun.” Said Dean. Emily sat down on the couch as they spoke.

“Well, she saw a kid's shrink, got better, and grew up normal.”

“Until now. So, what's she hiding?”

“Why don't you just ask me to my face?” Said Anna’s voice from on top of the stairs. Ruby, behind her, stood, bored with her arms crossed.

“Nice job watching her.” Said Emily, sarcastic.

“I'm watching her, demon-barbie.” Answered Ruby, annoyed. 

“No, you're right, Anna.” Sam interrupted Emily, who was about to answer back. “Is there anything you want to tell us?”

While Anna told them about how she had no idea what was going on, Emily was leaning on the wall, distracted. 

All she could think about was Dean crying. It was like an image stuck in the back of her brain, a constant reminder of the shit they went through. She had spent year and year in hell, just regretting every single fight she had ever had with him. Everytime the clock ticked, she was reminded that, even if she wanted to stop fighting with Dean, it seemed like she was failing over and over in her task of keeping peace. All she wanted was for the fighting to stop, but life seemed to have other plans. 

Sam had the idea of calling Pamela, a friend of their father who had helped them with psychic matters before. 

Dean offered to pick her up and bring her back:“Sammy, wanna tag along?” He asked, searching in his pockets for the car keys. 

“It's probably better if I stay here.” He pointed at Ruby. “But maybe Emily can come with you?” 

Come on, man! She glared at him.

What, I heard you before, I thought you wanted to stop the fighting, right?

Yeah, not being forced to spend three hours with him!

If you want the fighting to stop, you need to talk about what's bothering you!

“What are those two doing?” Said Ruby, raising one eyebrow and pointing at Sam and Emily who had just started gesturing in front of their faces. 

I don't want to be stuck with him for hours, you know he's not gonna talk-

“Telepathy. They keep forgetting that we can't hear them, but we can still see them!”

Well then you force him to!

 Dean snapped his fingers in the middle of the siblings, finally getting their attention. “Hey!” 

Emily turned to him. “What?!”

“You're being weird- you know what, it doesn't matter, we have a long way to go, let's just leave.” 

Emily walked a couple of steps while still looking back at Sam, who showed her a sarcastic thumbs up, but then followed Dean outside the house and into the Impala. 

“By the way, you really need to learn how to not let people know you're talking telepathically- It's not a very useful power if everybody knows you're using it.” Said Dean, starting the engine. 

“Right.” 

Either of them spoke for a couple of hours as Dean was focused on driving and Emily did her best to distract herself by reading a lore book she had in her bag. 

“What' you reading, kid?” Dean tried to lift the cover to see the title. 

“It's one volume of Edda.” 

“Cool.”

“Yeah.” Muttered Emily, knowing full well Dean probably had no idea what Edda was. 

Dean started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, humming on the notes of the classical tunes he was playing on the radio. “You like this song?” He asked. 

“I guess.” Answered Emily, distracted.

After a little more silence, Dean spoke again. “Do you remember that time-”

“Dean!” She finally lifted her eyes off her book, annoyed. “I'm trying to read!”

“I'm just trying to have a conversation, you know.” 

“Well, I don't really want to talk right now.” 

Exhaling, Dean went back to staring at the road for a while. 

“Emily?” He asked, about an hour later.

“What now?!” 

“I need to say something to you.” 

Emily closed her book, annoyed. “Alright, I'm all ears.” 

“You were right.” Said Dean.

“Can you be more specific?” She asked.

“I was a dick to you when Sam died and- I know you think it was stupid to bring him back, but-”

“Actually, I- I started regretting not bringing him back like two days after we burned him.” She exhaled. “There. I admitted it. But I knew it wasn't the right thing, so I didn't let you do it.” 

“Well, you were right. And when he came back… Explaining to him what happened to you and how you were gone was… Too hard.” 

Emily stared in front of her for a bit, thinking about Dean's words. “I get it.” She sighed. “I don't approve of it, but I get it.” 

 “I know, sorry. You- When you died, it really was a slap in the face. Cops showed up at Bobby's and- I felt like I failed you and as if it was my fault and now- now there's this hell thing and…“ He trailed off. 

“About that.” Said Emily, shifting in her seat. “I'm sorry about this morning. I spent one hundred years regretting fighting with you and letting us escalate as much as we did, but then I came back and I let it happen all over again.”

“One hundred years?” 

Emily exhaled, realizing she had just revealed something about hell she was not supposed to. 

“That's an expression, you know.” She tried to convince Dean. He raised an eyebrow and briefly glared at her. 

”...Is it? Because that was my next point, Emily. Hell didn't feel- It didn't feel like four months. More like thirty years.” 

Emily exhaled. “Mine did feel like one hundred.” She admitted. “Give or take, I honestly lost track. I almost stopped counting when you-” 

“I'm sorry. Really.” 

“It's not about the apology, man. While I was down there… I thought about you and about how I fucked it all up. I kept thinking that if I ever got a redo, I would not be a fucking bitch to you, but you're making it really hard, Dean.” 

“So what you're saying is you want us to be siblings? For real?” 

“I want us to try and be siblings. Yes.” 

They later arrived back at Bobby's, together with Pamela. Emily holed up in her room to do research, hoping to get some calm time. Having so many people around, all giving different info and opinions, was stressing her out. So she changed out of her clothes, put on one of Sam's old t-shirts and sat on the bed with a pile of books on her side. She was deep into her reading when someone knocked on the open door frame. She raised her gaze to see Sam. 

“Hey kid.” He said, smiling. “How you doing, got anything interesting?” 

“Not really.” She exhaled, closing the book she had on her legs. “You?” 

“Got nada. Are you okay? You've been up here for a while.” 

“Yeah, all is good. I spoke with Dean, we… We got somewhere, I guess.” 

“Really?” Sam entered the room, Emily gestured him to sit on the bed. “I thought you'd be happier.” 

“I don't know, Sam- I'm tired as fuck. This whole Anna thing is very stressful.” 

“Do you want some help with those?” Sam pointed to the books and papers she had laying around her. She shrugged and handed him a book. He made himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. “So, will you and Dean be in peace now? For real?” 

“Well, I'll try, but… It wouldn't be the first time it all goes to shit.” Sam's face tightened up a little and he resumed his reading. It wasn't long before someone else interrupted their silence. Ruby entered the room. “Ah, here you are. My favourite nerd and- well, you.” She pointed at Emily, disgusted. 

“Love you too, girl.” Said Emily, sarcastic, without taking her eyes away from her book. “You got anything useful or are you just here because you want to have sex with Sam?” 

“What, jealous?” 

“Cut it out- I think I found something.” Sam interrupted them. “Here. In march '85, a meteorite vanished in the night sky over northwestern Ohio. It was sighted nine months before Anna was born, and she was born in that part of Ohio.”

“Wait-” Said Emily. “I got a meteor on the same day, just over Kentucky.” She handed him a piece of newspaper. 

“Must be her grace.” Nodded Sam. 

“All right. That just narrows it down to an entire state.” Said Ruby, annoyed. “Sam... I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Asked Sam. Emily scowled at the demon. 

“For bringing you this mess. If I had known, I would have kept my trap shut.”

“It’s easy to say it now, maybe you should have thought of it earlier.” Spat Emily, bitter. 

“I’m not talking to you, barbie.” 

“You’re not? Because last time you seemed pretty keen on having me on your team!” 

“You b-”

“Hey!” Interrupted Sam. 

Emily and Ruby both turned to him. “What?!” 

“This is not the time- Listen. We’ll muddle through, okay?”

“Not this time. You do not want to get between these two armies. It's Godzilla and Mothra. If one side doesn't get us, the other one will.” At these words, Emily rolled her eyes. 

“So, what do you want to do? Dump Anna and run?” Emily let the two talk and started sorting the paper and books. “Forget it. Look, I know the angels freak you out.” Continued Sam.

“Forget the angels. It's Alastair I'm scared of.”

“Alastair?”

“You met him in the church. Practically the grand inquisitor downstairs. Picasso with a razor.” Emily shivered. “And you should pull him out and throw him back in the pit... if you weren't so out of shape.”

“Ruby-” 

“No, your abilities… you're getting flabby. You know what you got to do.” 

“Stop-” Sam gazed over at Emily, who had stop clearing her space and was looking at him, confused. “No, I'm not doing that anymore.”

“Well, then you better either convince your sister to join us, or pray that Anna gets her groove back, or we're all dead.” Said the demon as she left the room.

Emily and Sam remained alone. “Sam, what was that about?” 

“Forget it, it's- it's not important.” 

“Doesn't look or sound like it.” 

“Really. Forget it.” 

There was a fight. Castiel and Uriel showed up, as well as Alastair. As they fought, Emily dislocated a shoulder. As Dean packed ice on it, she sat on the couch, the same couch where they fought after Sam died. 

“So, one hundred years, uh?” Said Dean, pressing the ice on her shoulder as she winced in pain. 

“Dean, please, we don't have to talk about that now.” 

“Of course, just- does that make you 125?” Dean smiled, amused. Emily thought about it for a second. 

“Dean, does that mean… Am I technically older than you?” 

Dean scowled at her, regretting his joke. “Absolutely not.” He said. 

“Dude- I just won the oldest sibling's privileges.”

“That's- that's not a real thing!” 

“Oh, I'll show you if it's not a real thing.” She giggled. “Also, dude, you had sex with an angel?!” 

“What?! How do you-” 

“I know everything. It's my oldest sibling's brain.” She pointed at her head, smiling.

“Yeah, right.”

“Also, it was super obvious. You know, you kissed in front of us. You doing okay?”

“I'll live.” 

[mintsilhouette]

I am back from my vacation, which was wonderful but also WOW, literally no downtime of any kind, and I’m onto the next phase of my time off, which is watching my two nieces (three and five years old) solo for a couple of days! Me of a few days ago thought this would be easy!!!

Flashforward to today, at 12:32am - I only just got them to bed, one had a complete meltdown while in the shower, and there was 3 (!!!) SERIOUS bathroom accidents along the way home (including one ON THE PLANE) that led to several pieces of clothing being THROWN AWAY, only because I couldn’t burn them!!!!!

I would die to protect these tiny children but also oh my GOD, I would not survive having my own. Please think good thoughts if you can about me making it through this and not turning into a pile of dust. I WILL BE MORE ACTIVE AGAIN AS SOON AS I CAN

[evita-shelby]

Between the Shadow and the Soul

Chapter 30

Gif by @inkyblinders

Morning comes too quickly for her tastes. Diane is an early riser much like her father. He holds her, playing with her like he used to do with Charlie. Charlie sleeps soundly, between them, clinging to her like he does when he has bad dreams.

“Aman called; said she found an Italian coming from Paris asking for my office.” Very serious talk coming from a man playing patty cake with the giggling baby on his lap. His smiles were rare these days, but he is happiest with the children. 

“Good morning to you too.” She carefully moved Charlie and sat up, head leaning on Tommy’s shoulder.

“I could’ve woken you up half an hour ago, love.” It's been a while since he called her that. Tommy was a different man when it was just them, he smiled more, laughed genuinely and he ate and slept enough. This was the real one, the tiny doll at the center of bigger dolls. “But I wanted time alone with this beautiful girl.”

Diane giggles, she will be bright, she will be Tommy’s favorite child, but she cannot see the rest anymore. Once she saw her become an actress, with an insatiable desire to travel and a bombshell red airplane. Other times she is crowned the most beautiful woman in Great Britain and twice she sees her in the veranda facing the beach in her old house in Veracruz.

The latest things she’s seen of Diane is her nearly seven running to Tommy after a long work-related trip. Red coat, a red ribbon on her silky brown hair, jumping up and down waiting for the car to come to a stop.

This morning as she watches her husband play with her, she sees ten-year-old Luca Changretta playing with his half-brother, Angel, in the grass while a young Vincenzo looks at them fondly from a distance. Audrey isn’t there, but Vincenzo tells his sons, she will be there soon.

Eva hates these types of visions, the one she has to interpret because the universe has suddenly decided it wanted it to be poetic.

“Vision?” he asks and she shakes her head. Eva then remembers the cursed sapphire on her neck and the strange curse on Bonnie Gold. A child for a child, Vincenzo Changretta looks at her as the vision ends.

“I’ll need to do a reading, maybe have Polly help me with it. The universe being poetic again, but I can tell you one thing, Luca Changretta will die.”

---

“I forgot you lived here until he got you a real house.” Linda has become almost unbearable since she’s taken up cocaine.

She comes in with baby Billy and some toys, and thankfully cooked food. Eva can barely stand being in the kitchen let alone cooking. it's by far the worst pregnancy yet.

“Believe it or not, I missed this place. Missed being busy.” Eva says helping move away something so she could sit on a chair. “Missed not having to pretend I’m interested in gossip about people I don’t know or care about, or that I don’t hear them call me a bean eater behind my back.”

“No one would call you that here, just like no one can call me a nutjob and keep all their teeth.” sometimes the nice and understanding Linda came back, it was as rare as one of Tommy’s good moods these days.  

No one ever tells you that you can hurt yourself while you help other. Linda was proof of that.

“Just like this sweetheart here won’t have anyone being awful to her because half her left eye is brown,” she adds giving the baby in question a hand sewn rag doll Diane will treasure forever. Linda wanted a girl, but she was happy with her baby boy. Linda had so much trouble during the birth the doctor told her it would be damn near impossible for her to have a second baby. “Arthur can’t kill Luca.”

“Tom won’t let him, Polly won’t either, but there’s only one way to guarantee its Aberama Gold who kills him.” She turns to the Quaker woman who hasn’t had risky, fun sex with Arthur since he put his ring on her finger. “It will work because so far it hasn’t failed me.”  

That’s one problem solved.

---

Tiago and Lizzie show up unexpectedly, and while Eva has not forgotten her perfect cousin has a pilot’s license, she has completely forgotten that he owns a private airfield and a yellow biplane he named Minerva’s Wings. Tia Mimi always liked yellow and did say aero planes were the future.

“We came back as soon as we heard, luckily, we had only gotten as far as Gretna Green when Florence tracked me down. She sends her condolences, by the way.” Tiago kissed her cheek with all the usual affection of a brother and Lizzie hugs her as she stands there with Charlie clinging to her leg and Diane wanting to go with Tiago.

Florence Scott was forty-six and perhaps the best spy friend one could ask for. She had been Eva’s mentor, partner and British Contact who gave her the files on Grace Burgess after Eva saw the Ten of Swords over her head that morning they met.

“The plane fucking broke, and your friend was kind enough to get us on the first train out of there, but my dear husband made us late by insisting we ride first class because he didn’t want to look poor.” Tia Mimi’s famous flower cluster of diamonds couldn’t have graced more deserving hands. “I am so sorry for your loss; John was the best of men.”

“He’s not really dead and do me a favor, don’t get on another plane for the next nine months.” She whispers while Tiago picks up Charlie over his shoulder completely unaware that they brought back a souvenir from Scotland.  

“Dear God, you Rileys are fertile.” She mutters and doesn’t refuse Día when she stretches her little hands towards her new auntie.

Diane is too busy with the blocks and Charlie with a toy plane while they discuss things. Lizzie remains with them and Eva fills the blanks in their information.

Florence had managed a spy in Changretta’s place, a cute maid who did a little more than tiding up his office and bed. Same maid who fucked her way into Carranza’s private correspondence with the Germans.  

John was very alive, but not many people were allowed to know. The handful of Lees were gone with them, Johnny Dogs had more secrets than the Vatican and Aberama Gold was to be paid for killing Luca.

Oh, and there was a conveniently orchestrated strike so no employees can get stuck in the middle of a possible fight between Changretta and Thomas. Eva really hates leaving honest working people out in the street like that, but the less bodies the better.

---

“Mr. Devlin, what can I help you with?” it has been almost a week and still no nightmares have come. There is the occasional spotting, newfound love for custard, and the confidence that maybe no one will die this time. With the exception of their enemies of course.

But something about this pregnancy doesn’t sit well. It's almost as if it wasn’t there.

She sits in a tea room with a sleeping Diane in her pram, reading a book of poems by a new poet of the name of Jose Gorostiza, when she sees him look around nervous and scared. Must have to do with the unpleasantness of the strikes and his train to Glasgow leaving tonight.

Still, Devlin wasn’t the man she had lured here. Eva was not the best artist in her family by a longshot, but Florence, Tiago, her grandmother and Tio Lisandro had made her great at facial composites. She had a graphite pencil and several well-placed sheets of paper in between the pages ready for the bastard.

“If anyone could get Mr. Shelby to see reason, it would be you, ma’am, what with the new baby and all that’s happened, he wouldn’t be able to deny you nothing.” he is scared and shaking even as she orders tea for him.

She throws up once and now everyone thinks she’s pregnant, great. Eva was pregnant, but she didn’t want it to be an open secret. Like how they all know Thomas Shelby becomes the greatest boss in the galaxy the moment Eva spreads her legs open for him right before work, or, better yet, during. He must've been Satan in the flesh this year.

“It's rather nice of you to think I have that much power, but I am afraid, Mr. Devlin, that I can’t.” she doesn’t mean to sound indifferent and cold, but there is a weariness she’s never had in her prior pregnancies that just won’t leave. “The most I can do is provide money for your family and ask my husband to go easy on you, but my hands are tied.”

“You don’t understand, Mrs. Shelby. Things are terrible after Mr. Shelby fired everyone who walked out on strike!” his voice rises slightly, getting them looks from all the people in the tea room.

Eva doesn’t put her book down and barely makes eye contact with the scared man. “I know and it's bound to get worse, Mr. Devlin. Perhaps if the workers had brought their complaints to me instead of Mrs. Eden, we could’ve avoided all this, but it’s too late now.”

“I told them so, but the workers thought someone like Jessie Eden could get Mr. Shelby to agree to their demands. It was no secret that you and Mr. Shelby had hit a rough patch and the workers didn’t---” he explains and she interrupts.

“Didn’t trust the word of a bean eater with a failing marriage and her half-Spaniard cousin who eloped with a whore who used to fuck his cousin-in-law? We’ve been over this, Devlin, I always keep an ear on the ground.” She flips the page, almost bored at how predictable it was.

“I don’t tolerate racists in my shops, but when Jessie Eden painted you and Mr. Rosales as villains to hate, some workers forgot my policy.” He drinks his tea, now this was the smart man she negotiated contracts with.

“You should return your ticket; my husband won’t let you on the train. Hell, I could ask Tiago to fly you there, but Thomas is bound to have the plane broken so you don’t get away.” Eva explains sipping her tea as all ladies do. getting her pencil ready for the handsome Italian she's come here to see.

“I understand, Mrs. Shelby.”

He leaves and Eva pretends she doesn’t see Luca Changretta eying her from the moment he entered, everyone knew she was a soldier, but only a handful knew she was a damn good spy. She takes up her pencil and begins scribbling on the edges of the book, Eva needed a cover to make him less suspicious of her.

“My mother mentioned you in some of her letters, you know.” He says studying her bored and uninterested face and she stays thinking about whether she should close the book she isn’t reading or pretend he is beneath her notice.

“Good things I hope.” She flips the page, landing on the drawing paper she strategically placed and briefly looks at her daughter, thank goodness Tom had let her hire a maid while they stay here, this would have been more difficult with Charles.

“She thought we’d make a good match.” There it is, all women befriended her with the intention of attaching her to a single bachelor. “You already looked Italian, and your company was already getting its hands on New York, but when I finally had time to come here to see the woman she wrote about, you had already eloped with Thomas Shelby.”

Like she’d consider marrying her husband’s murderer if such a thing happened.  He had a rather distinct look, like Tommy. Neither men could ever blend in even if they tried. It will be easy. If only she could draw quicker. “I’m surprised your mother didn’t tell you I am a witch.”

“She may have brought it up, I didn’t believe her until I came here. You word is law, even your husband knows better than to question it.” He sits as if they were old friends, he looks at the baby with a left eye that is half brown in the elegant pram. Luca makes the calculations in his mind and Eva answers his unspoken question.

“Yes, I was pregnant with her when your father’s man fucked up and shot me instead, had seen my death beforehand so I had no loose ends when I went. Lucky for you and your parents, I woke up and I was very lucky it didn’t trigger a miscarriage because if it had I probably would’ve been the one to kill your father.” she takes the graphite pencil and begins the sketch. “You should’ve seen what I did to this priest who kidnapped me and my son when I was four months along, as much as I preferer knives, they are very messy. Difficult to get that much blood off a channel dress, I’ll tell you that.”

“I don’t hurt children. I promised my mother I wouldn’t.” It’s not a lie, but that’s not enough to her. Besides, grief can fuck up a person no matter what age. just look at Eva, lost her parents, her sister and her only niece at seventeen, just months after having her dream of being a ballerina shattered like her right foot and it made her look for death so much and so fucking often, she had to be smuggled out of her country in a wooden crate after pissing off the president at a dinner party at four months shy of twenty-three.

“Your mother would’ve made an excellent tactician, killing everyone and leaving Thomas alive?” she whistles in approval and keeps drawing as accurately as she can. “Thats incredibly fucked up and this is the same person who judged me for marrying Thomas because he is who he is.”

Eva is only half done, but she already has enough of him sketched down. If he is to meet Tom in half an hour, then she can finish it later with his input. Or hope someone can find the photographer his cousin used.

“She says she’ll make sure your grave always has marigolds.” the waitress brings him his order, but he stands up and leaves instead.

---

Notes:

people who are racist will find any excuse to be racist, here the racist employees felt empowered enough to call her and Tiago slurs even if it is against company policy. btw beaner is an abbreviation of bean-eater which originated around the late 19th century in the US.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~sixth chapter rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Two months later, you sat outside The Daily Bugle and impatiently bounced your leg. While waiting to see if your boss liked your first draft of the Cleatus Kassidy article, you reflected on your past two months in New York.

It was now June. You and Venom had fallen into a routine. You’d work on the Cletus article by day and go patrolling at night. Of course, being Venom wasn’t a nightly occurrence. You’d only go out eating once or twice a week. Still, you managed to have 11 run ins with Spider-Man.

You and Peter had become significantly closer in that past two months as well. You’d help him with his homework, though you secretly thought he was smarter than you, and he helped me with your story. Some nights, he’d visit you on your fire escape and watch the sun go down. You had no idea how he got there, but you didn’t care.

You’d send him science puns while he was at school and he’d bring you food and keep you company when You had writers block. Your favorite was the long talks on the roof. You would sit there for hours and tell each other everything. You knew all his secrets and he knew yours.

Well, not all.

But the best part of all was that every now and then, you’d catch the other staring. Then, the other would stare back until someone, usually Peter, started to lean in. Every time you thought you were finally going to take the next step, something would interrupt you. Whether it was May knocking or Ned barging in or Peters phone ringing. That was another thing about Peter. His damn phone was always ringing and then he’d have to dash off somewhere, leaving you with a random excuse or something about an internship. Sometimes, you’d wish he’d just throw his phone aside and kiss you already.

“Great work so far, L/n.” Your boss tore you away from your thoughts. “I knew you’d be right for the job.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jameson.” You stammered as you stood up. “I really appreciate you giving me this job. I was kinda blackballed back in San Francisco.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “But you ask the hard hitting questions that people want to hear. Once this article is out, I want you to write one on Venom.”

“Venom?” You gulped at her name.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You know that scary black monster that’s been fighting Spiderman? I’m thinking an exposé on that menace webhead and his latest enemy, and I think you’d be perfect for the job.”


“I would love to.” You said quickly. “I’ll start researching right away.”

With that, you turned on your heel and left the building before Venom caused a scene.

“Monster?” Venom roared once you got in your car. “Scary?”

“I know.” You whined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was gonna call you that.”

“His whole job is reading about the most dangerous criminals in New York. If he thinks we’re scary, what’s Peter gonna think?” Venom asked. You laughed in dismissal until you thought about what he said.

What would Peter think? What if you told Peter who you really were and he ran away? He was sweet and understanding, but how understanding could he possibly be when you tell him you can turn into a flesh eating monster?

That’s when you realized you were scared. You were scared of letting Peter in and him letting himself right out. You were scared of repeating the mistakes you made with Andy. No, not scared.

Petrified.

What if Peter didn’t like what he saw? What if he realized you were too messy to be with? Or had too much baggage? Peter deserved a nice girl. One with a normal family and friends. One without depression. One without a flesh eating symbiote attached to their immune system.

“What’s wrong baby?” Venom asked with concern. She cuddled around your neck and nuzzled into your cheek.

“I can never be with Peter.” You whispered, mostly to yourself. Hot tears of frustration filled your eyes so you looked up to keep them from falling. Admitting it felt like a fatal blow to the stomach. Venom tied your hair up with one of her arms and wiped the tears from your face.

“Why do you say that?”

You thought about it for a moment before answering. You didn’t want to tell Venom that you were feeling insecure. She freaked out on you whenever you said something negative about yourself. You didn’t wanna another 100 slide PowerPoint titled “why Y/N L/N is the baddest bitch in the galaxy”. Especially since forty of those slides were just pictures of your butt. You appreciated Venom wanting to help but you were feeling the kind of insecure that a pep talk couldn’t fix. You needed to figure it out on your own. So instead, you told her a different fear you had.

“Because. Look at us. We’re the only thing keeping each other alive.” You reasoned. “What if we get separated and die? I can’t become one of those people in Peters life who loved him and then left him. His mom, his dad, his Uncle Ben. I don’t want to die and leave Peter behind. He’s been through enough. He’d be so much better off without me.”

“We’re not gonna die. You protect me and I protect you. Nothing will hurt us as long as we have each other.” Venom assured you.

“I can’t protect you like you protect me.” You said softly. “I’m just a human. What if something happens to me and you die because of it?”

“Nothing will happen to you, Y/N. I promise. I won’t let it.” Venom swore. You looked at her and gave her a sad smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you either.” You said, but you didn’t promise it. You knew you couldn’t promise it.

“And you can be with Peter.” Venom insisted. “On Klyntar, we mate for life. And we think you’ve found your mate in Peter.”

“What does that mean?” You wondered.

“It means we’ve become attached to him and will never be happy with anyone else.” Venom said. You let out a shaky breath as that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You needed a reason to shut your feelings for Peter down.

“Like soulmates?” You asked.

“Exactly like soulmates.” Venom answered.

“Well what happens on Klyntar if someone is your soulmate but you’re not theirs?”

“Then we go into a cave and mourn until we die alone of heartbreak.” Venom said simply.

“That sounds about right.” You laughed sadly as you took a second to think.

“I’m gonna call that guy back.” You said suddenly.

“What guy?” She asked.

“They guy who asked me out at the coffee shop this morning.” You reminded her.

“The one with the stupid hair? Why would you call him?” Venom asked angrily.

“What was wrong with his hair?” You laughed.

“It was blonde. We like brunette.” Venom said with a devilish grin.

“His hair was fine.” You rolled your eyes. “And I’m gonna call him to say yes to the date.”

“Why would we do that when we like Peter?” Venom whined.

“Because if Peter doesn’t like us, I don’t want to die of heartbreak alone in a cave.” You admitted.

“He does love you.” Venom protested.

“We don’t know that.” You shook your head. “It’s just one date. I need to get back out there anyway. I haven’t gone on a date Andy and I broke up.”

“Fine.” Venom grumbled. “But this is a terrible idea and I’m going to complain the whole time and sing the Les Mis soundtrack in your head.” This was one of those moments where she felt more like your toddler than your symbiote.

You gave the guy a call before driving back to your apartment. As fate would have it, you ran into Peter in the hallway on your way to your room.

“Hey Y/n!” Peter greeted you. “You want to come over later and help me with spanish? I’ll amo you mucho.”

You wanted so badly to say yes but you had to stick to the plan to squash your feelings for Peter.

“Aw, I’m sorry Pete. I wish I could but I have a date tonight.” You frowned, instantly regretting it when you saw the look on his face.

Peter’s heart sank to the floor as he emotions went from feeling devastated to feeling white hot anger in a matter of seconds

“A date?” He sputtered. “With who?”

“Some boy I met at the coffee shop.” You said weakly, knowing you were hurting him.

“Oh.” He said dully. 

“Some boy.” He thought angrily. “Some freaking dirty ass sissy coffee boy asked my girl out.”

Peter felt like hunting the man down and smacking the shit out of him. Or at the very least, webbing him to a wall leaving him there until he missed the date.

“What’s his name?” Peter asked suddenly, wanting to put a name to his new mortal enemy.

“Matt.” You nodded slowly.

“Freaking Matt.” Peter thought. “Freaking dirty ass bitch ass Matt. Was Matt Spider-Man? No. Could Matt treat you as well as I could? Probably. But did he like you as much? No. Did he have inside jokes with you? No. Could he make you laugh your beautiful laugh just by doing a Captain America impression? No. He wasn’t good enough for you. He couldn’t do the things I could do. He was trash. He was a trashy dirty ass rat boy.”

“Interesting.” Peter said, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I’ll text you when it’s over and maybe I can help you then.” You offered. That sound okay, guapo?”

Peter nodded sadly, not even acknowledging that you called him handsome. Actually, he probably had no idea that you did. He was smart, but only in English.

“That’s fine.” He nodded glumly. “I’ll see you later.”

You watched Peter trudge into his apartment and felt a pain in your heart. He seemed so upset all the sudden. It couldn’t be from your date, could it? It’s not like you told him you got engaged or something. It was one little date. And it’s not like Peter even made a move. He had no reason to be upset. You brushed it off and went into your apartment to get ready.

Just as Venom predicted, the date went horribly wrong. You drove back to the apartment in silence afterwards, leaving Matt to clean himself off back at the restaurant.

“Why did that happen?” You asked her after a long drive in silence. You were mortified from the events of the night but you needed to know why they happened.

“Because he wasn’t your soulmate.” Venom said simply.

“We defiled that boy.”

“It happens.” Venom stated.

“It shouldn’t.” You said, shocked at how nonchalantly she was being.

“But it does.”

You rode the rest of the way in silence, shooting Peter a text before asleep on your couch. You woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat and in tears. You didn’t know it, but Peter was listening to your breathing from his apartment. He had picked up the small cries of his name in your sleep with his superhearing and stayed up to see if you were okay.

You weren’t, by the way. You had had a nightmare that shook you deeply and left you shaking. It was about Peter, but not in a good way. In this dream, he laid injured on the ground after a fight. You were separated from Venom and bleeding out near Peter. You couldn’t do anything to save him. You couldn’t scream for help. And worse, you couldn’t protect him. It caused you great agony to not be able to reach him.

Without giving it another thought, you got off your couch and made your way to the door. You needed to see Peter and tell him how you felt.

You didn’t care about your insecurities anymore. You didn’t care about all the things keeping you apart. You only cared about him, and that was enough. He needed to know that and you couldn’t wait another second.

You swung open your front door, only to find Peter Parker outside it in pink Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a tight white t-shirt. His hand was raised, like he was about to knock.

“Hey.” you breathed. His hair was tousled and sticking up in random places. He looked heavenly.

“Hi.” He said shyly.

“I was just about to go to your door. I had a bad dream.” You told him. You were anxious to skip the semantics and cut right to the chase. 

The chase being, “I love you and I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Yeah, I heard. That’s why I’m here.” Peter explained. That’s not what he wanted to say. What he wanted to say was, “I’m always here if you need me. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. I love you. It’ll be okay.”

Peter looked at you funny for a moment, like he was seeing something beneath the surface.

“She looks so beautiful.” He thought. Makeup free, hair a little messy, and nothing but an oversized sweatshirt to cover you. Peter recognized the sweatshirt as his own, one you had swiped from his laundry basket because you had been freezing while watching Alien in his room. He felt so honored to know that you slept in it. Peter wondered how many times he could fall in love with you in a short span of time. In the past few seconds, he’d fallen about 15 times. Once for every breath you took. And you were breathing quite heavily.

“You heard?” You asked, wondering how he

had possible heard from his apartment.

“My hearing is excellent.” He said quickly. “Are you alright?”

“Please be alright.” He thought. “I’d stop anything that tried to hurt you. I’ll protect you from the storm. Don’t shut me out. Don’t turn me away. Let me love you.”

“Um…” You trailed off and looked behind you at your empty apartment. The darkness looked anything but inviting. You couldn’t go back in there just yet.

“No?” It came out as more of a question.

“No? Do you want to talk about it-“ Peter was cut off when you rushed into his arm and hugged him tightly. He seemed taken aback, seeing as you nearly knocked the wind out of him. But as soon as he found his footing, he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you close. You relaxed in Peters embrace and let out a sigh.

“I had a nightmare.” You croaked. “You died and I couldn’t save you.” 

“I know. It’s okay. You’re awake now. I’m here.” Peter said soothingly. 

“I’ve been here the whole time.” He thought. “I will never abandon you. You are safe in my arms. Nothing can hurt you now. I won’t let it.”

You pulled away a little and looked at his face, seeing how tired it was.

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly. You didn’t want him to go. Not now, not ever.

“Always.” Peter answered with a smile. “As if I could ever leave you.”

Your lips lit up in a smile as your eyes fell to his lips. They lingered there for too long, or maybe just long enough. Peter took the hint and slipped his hand behind your neck and began to pull you closer. As your lips were about to touch, your door slammed, causing you to jump out of each other’s embrace.

“Shit balls.” You said immediately, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“What?” Peter asked, giggling a little at your choice of profanity.

“I just locked myself out.” You realized as you jiggled through door handle. Peter laughed louder this time and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Come on. You’re sleeping over.” He said, leading you back to his apartment with his hand on the small of his back.

You entered Peters room for the millionth time, but it felt the first time. Sure, you’d become good friends in the time you’ve lived in the building, but bedrooms were intimate places. The context of you being in Peters bedroom after going to him for comfort changes how you saw the place. After all, bedrooms were windows into the soul. Oh wait, that’s eyes. Still, the room was different. You didn’t feel like you were entering it. You felt like you were returning.

You looked around with a content smile on your face. He still had his academic decathlon posters on his wall, along with a few Avengers posters. Peter was pretty neat, but he was still a teenage boy. Socks and sweaters were strewn across the room. You saw him kicking a pair of boxers under his desk out of the corner of you eye. His room was so cute. It was so…Peter. You noticed a first aid kit on his desk next to his chemistry textbook and wondered what on earth he could be using it for.

“I’ve always liked your room.” You complimented as you touched a decathlon trophy on his dresser.

“Oh thank God.” Peter sighed in relief. “I thought you’d take one look at my nerdy ambiance and run.”

“Star Wars bedsheets?” You asked when you noticed the Death Star poking out under his duvet. You definitely hadn’t seen those before and found them endearing. Peters ears reddened and he fixed his duvet to cover them up.

“Those aren’t mine.” He said quickly.

“Are they Mays? As in May the force be with you?” You played along and he gave you a defeated smile.

“That was the worst thing anyone has ever said. Ever.” Peter joked. You laughed and he gave you a shy smile.

“Fine. They’re my bedsheets. Star Wars is cool, okay?” Peter defended. You took a seat on his bed and shrugged.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me Peter. I just didn’t know you were a loser, is all.”You said simply. Peter sat down on the bed next to you and rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. You’re the funniest person I know.” He said sarcastically. You nudged him with your elbow and he and hit you with a Yoda printed pillow.

“Mm. Good with the force you are.” You commented. Peter groaned loudly and told you to shut up.

“Enough playing around. How was your date?” Peter asked as he turned to face you. You could hear the pain in his voice and regretted ever telling him about the date.

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged. “Terrible.”

You weren’t going to let him off the hook that easy. If Peter really did like you and want to be with you, he needed to say it. He couldn’t just grumble and wallow in self pity when you were with another boy. You wanted to test him to see if he’d ever actually admit his feelings, but a part of you was still scared there were no feelings to admit to.

“Really?” He said excitedly. He cleared his throat to cover it up and grunted. “I mean, really?” He asked calmly.

“Yeah it was awful. I definitely won’t be seeing him again.” You sighed sadly, but you weren’t actually sad. You were just putting on a show for Peter. Peter bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from emerging.

“That’s terrible.” Peter lied. “What went wrong?”

His acting was equally as bad as your own. He had a shit eating grin on his face, pretending to be sad when he was clearly over the moon.

“It was going fine all night until the kiss.” You sighed dramatically, looking longingly out the window. You might as well have thrown yourself onto the balcony and cried out for Romeo. Peter, however, was buying every second of it.

“You guys kissed?” He asked, his voice heavy with disappointment. He looked miserable. All you wanted to do was throw your arms around his neck and tell him he was the only one for you. Instead, you kept your feelings to yourself and nodded slowly.

“Almost. He leaned in and…” instead of finishing your sentence, you just shrugged. You could tell Peter was on the edge of his seat so you dragged it as long as you could.

“And?” Peter practically begged. You let out another long, dramatic sigh as Peter took a slow sip of his water bottle.

“And I threw up on him.” You said simply. Peter spat out the water in his mouth and burst out laughing, doing his best to cover it up. You gave him a fake angry look but ended up laughing as well.

“What?” Peter laughed.

“He was such a tool.” You whined. “He talked down to me the entire night and then had the audacity to try and kiss me. I don’t know what happened but all the sudden he was leaning in and I was throwing up. He deserved it though. He treated me like was an idiot. I’m almost glad I threw up on him.”

Peters was overjoyed. He was about to say something when we heard a straggled cry of your name.

You and Peter rushed to his peephole and saw a familiar blonde haired boy standing in the hallway.

There he was, Matt, outside your apartment door with his phone on full volume playing “Hungry Eyes” from Dirty Dancing.

“What the actual hell?” You wondered out loud. “I better get rid of him.”

“Y/nnnnnn. I’m sorry I was a jerk.” Matt slurred. “Please talk to me. I told the doorman we were cousins. Then I told the elevator guy that I was your husband. You may need to move now. Y/nnnn.”

“You definitely can’t go out there.” Peter shook his head. “He could have a knife.”

“Or worse.” You whispered, making Peter looked at you fearfully. “He could have the same loser bedsheets you do.”

Peter scrunched his nose at you and picked up you swiftly to threw you onto the couch.

“Since when are you so strong?” You laughed in shock. Peter shrugged and held out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” He said. You raised an eyebrow and he quickly added, “In a non-sexual, platonic way.”

He was always so cautious of offending you or making you uncomfortable. You appreciated how much of a gentleman he was and knew Aunt May had implemented those qualities in him.

“You can take the bed.” He offered. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded and climbed into his bed, patting the the space next to you.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him. “Get in.”

Peter looked at you with wide eyes, looking very unsure of himself as he toyed with the hem of his shirt.

He was torn. He wanted to get into the bed, but he also knew you were vulnerable right now and he didn’t want to take advantage of you. He didn’t want to do anything you’d end up regretting in the morning.

“Get in, in a non-sexual, platonic way.” You added. Peter relaxed but stayed standing. You pretended to splash Peter and twirled your hand around the bedsheets as if they were water.

“Come on in Parker. The waters warm.” You said in a low voice.

“I am…repulsed.” Peter deadpanned. In reality, he was dying to get in the bed. He wasn’t gonna try anything, he just wanted to feel you close. He wanted to comfort you and take the pain of the night away. Finally, he got into the bed and pulled the covers up. He shut off his lamp and we fell into comfortable silence.

“Good night, Peter.” You whispered, turning your back to him and cuddling into his pillow.

“Night, Y/n.” He whispered back. You felt his eyes on the back of your neck still. He didn’t want to close them and fall asleep. He wanted to stay in this moment as long as he could.

You soon felt hesitant arms wrap around your waist. Peter was very unsure of himself and kept his hands loosely on your hips, barely touching. You turned your neck around and looked at him quizzically.

“What the hell are you doing?” You demanded. His hands flew off your waist and his eyes widened with fear. He looked so apologetic, you thought he might cry.

“Do you not know how to cuddle?” You asked before he could blurt out an apology. You grabbed his arms and pulled them tightly around your body. You held his hands in your own, flush against your chest. Peter felt really tense at first and a bit stiff, but he soon relaxed and nestled into your hair.

“You smell really good.” He muttered. You laughed softly against his body, prompting Peter to hold you even tighter.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Y/N.” He whispered. He said it so quietly, you figured he thought you had fallen asleep. “Sweet dreams.”

You woke up the next morning in Peter Parker’s arms. Subsequently, you wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of your life in Peter Parker’s arms. You were a mess of tangled limbs and hair but you found yourself firmly in his embrace, inhaling his cologne.

Peters eyes fluttered open suddenly and you were nose to nose.

“Hi.” You said softly, a playful smile resting on your lips. He was so pretty in the morning. He didn’t even have to try.

“Hey.” He chuckled. “This is new.”

“It is new. Is it okay?” You asked him, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

“Is waking up next to the actual sun okay?” He teased. “Uh yea, Y/n. It’s okay. You can sleep over anytime you like if it means more mornings like this.”

Of course he said that. He held all your strings and knew just how to tug them.

“Did you really not enjoy that date?” He whispered, but in his head thought, “Do you want to be with anyone else?”

You didn’t know why he was whispering, but the look in his eyes told you he was dead serious.

“Not in the slightest.” You answered honestly. What you wanted to say was, “Because it wasn’t with you.”, but you didn’t.

“Would you…would you want to go out with me sometime?” He asked shyly. “I promise I won’t throw up on you.”

He said the second part as if it was the only way you’d say yes to the date, which made you laugh.

“Peter Parker, I have waited exactly 64 days for you to ask me that question and you just had to ruin it by promising you won’t throw up on me?” You playfully scolded as Peters eyes lit up.

“Is that a yes?” He asked excitedly.

“It’s a yes.” You nodded, holding his nearest hand. “It’s always been a yes.”

“Can I-“ He began.

“Don’t ask.” You whispered. “Just do it.”

Peter leaned in slowly and you did the same. His lips had just ghosted yours when Aunt May knocked on the door. He bolted out of bed as you sat up.

“Breakfast is ready. Did you clean your room?” Aunt May called from the other side of the door.

“Yes.” Peter called back. You looked around. No he didn’t

“No you didn’t.” She said knowingly. She didn’t even have to see his room to know it wasn’t clean.

“I’ll clean it after.” He groaned.

“I’m coming in.” She said suddenly, making you and Peter look at each other in fear.

“Don’t! I’m naked.” He screamed.

“Fine. But it better be clean after breakfast. And put some clothes on. You should not be naked at 7 am.” Aunt May said. You heard her footsteps walking away and knew it was safe to speak. You got out of Peters bed as he got up to lock the door, his back still to you as he did it.

“Alright.” He sighed. “That should buy us some ti-“

The second he turned around, he was met with your lips on his. You had your hands on the sides of his face and your head tilted to the left. You felt Peters eyes flutter shut as his eyelashes tickled your cheeks. He was frozen at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You melted into him and he melted right back into you. The kiss was short and sweet, but absolutely perfect.

When you pulled away, Peter gave you the softest eyes ever. A grateful smile was on his lips.

“I am so over these interrupted moments.” You laughed softly as you shook your head. Peters eyes twinkled in agreement. The sun was coming through the window and made his brown eyes look like pots of honey. You could stare at them forever.

And then he kissed you again, with confidence this time. He wasn’t ready for the last one since you caught him off guard. You let your fingers tangle in the messy curls at the back of his neck, something you thought you’d only get to dream of doing. Peter groaned slightly into your mouth as you tugged on his hair, indicating that he liked it. He put his hand under your neck and slipped his toungue in your mouth. Who knew Peter Parker knew how to kiss? He tasted like morning breath, spearmint chapstick, and something you could only identify as being exclusively Peter. When you pulled apart, he looked up at the sky and sighed.

“If I wake up and this is all a dream I’m going to fight you.” He said menacingly.

“Did you just threaten God?” You laughed.

“For you? Anthing. I’ll fight anyone for your honor. Our Lord and Savior can catch these hands can square up.” He promised.

“You’ve gone to far.” You joked. “We need to break up.”

“Don’t even joke. I’ve waited too long for this.” Peter said as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m only teasing. I’ve waited my whole life for you Parker. I’m never letting you go.” You told him. He burst out in a smile and kissed you swiftly, then promptly got down on one knee.

“Will you please be mine, darling? Officially?” He pleaded softly. There was so much hope in his eyes so you pretended to think about it.

“Sorry.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty busy with Matt.”

Peter stood up and gripped your hips, pulling you closer while you let out a small gasp.

“I never want to hear his name again. He had the privilege of taking my girl on a date and treated her poorly?” He raised an eyebrow. “He’s a deadman if I ever see him around here. Now, I need you to tell me you’re my girlfriend before my heart explodes. Tell me you’re mine. I won’t believe it until you say it. ”

You nodded yes as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

“Peter Parker, I always have, and always will be, yours.”

[twiceasfrustrating]

HELLOOO, HERE I COME!!! I've been wanting to comment on your Yandere!Diavolo fic forever, and now I finally seized the chance!

It is SO GOOD. Literally. I read all (back then) 9 chapters in one sitting. Sweat drops forming on my forehead. Stomach CHURNING, suppressing gagging noises. And still getting butterflies during the sweet scenes and immediately resenting myself for it, then doing it all over again. At the end I felt so desperate and empty inside. You pulled off the emotional rollercoaster so well that I felt every emotion and reaction of the character in my soul. The latest chapter was really well executed; you brought the point and the feeling across without going too much into physical detail, which made the scene even more horrifying. The breaking of the main character is well crafted and put just in the right places at the right frequency.

Many overdo it with their interpretation of Yandere!Diavolo, but you do it in such a measured and realistic way that it feels natural. There are a few hints in canon about him having thoughts like that, and I think you brought him indulging in them out perfectly.

That being said, thank you so much for the fic, and I cannot wait for the next update! Don't stress yourself out over it tho, take care of yourself and do something nice for yourself today for me! <3

Okay. You. Come here. Come here so I can kiss your face and love you.

You are the sweetest Anon and you have no idea what this meant to me. I would have responded sooner but... I have been keeping it and staring at it 👉👈

Like, seriously. It means a lot. I worry about if I am going over the top or not doing enough, so these kinds of things are really nice (and help me know how other people think of the progression).

I hope you have a wonderful month, sweet Anon.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Raven Haired Rebel

Chapter 4

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki and you make a breakthrough. Chapter Warnings: none I believe A/N: Happy reading folks :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedficrecs @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​ @mooncat163​ @lokislittlesigyn​

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Masterlist 

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had insisted on moving again before your team got to work. The team, of course, was really just you and him, but he liked the sound of it. Of having a whole little group to belong to. But, in reality, he didn’t. He had you, at least, and that was enough for now. Quite possibly for forever, if he were to be honest. After all, everyone always says it's better to have one true friend than a million who don’t care for you at all. Growing up, he’d had plenty of sycophants attach themselves to his hip, only to ignore him once they got close with Thor. That was before everyone decided Loki wasn’t even worth their time. The lonely, brooding sorcerer prince of Asgard deemed too unimportant to even use as a gateway to greater things.

You, however, were different; Loki could tell. Truly, you had nothing to gain and everything to lose by aligning yourself with him. Yet there you were, listening with rapt attention and big eyes, clinging to his every word. That was why his latest choice of motel was nicer than the previous one. He felt like you deserved it. The fact that there was only one bed was not his doing, he swore on his life. Alas, that was all that was available. He’d offered to take the floor so you could have it to yourself, but you insisted on sharing. And with all your stubbornness, who was he to resist?

Now, that’s not to say there weren’t problems with the set-up because there most certainly were. Like the fact that on the first night, despite falling asleep with his back toward you, he woke up facing you, an arm lazily wrapped around your waist. He could tell your sleep was feigned, an act he assumed was out of consideration for him so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. He’d whipped his arm away as quick as he could, rolling onto his back, the act making you open your eyes and blink innocently at him.

“You know,” you’d said, sleep still in the edges of your voice. “I really didn’t mind.”

“Thank you,” he’d cleared his throat. “But you do not have to say that just for my sake.”

You’d splayed a hand on his chest and leaned your body over his, making his heart stutter in his chest. “I’m not. I mean it.”

Before he could think of some reply- which with the way things were going, honestly could have been kissing you—you moved away from him. He laid there for a bit longer as you fixed yourself a breakfast of cereal. You put together a bowl for him, too, leaving it on his nightstand. Even that he did not touch for a bit, too lost in thought. He hadn’t been in touch with his emotions for quite some time. Now when he needed to most, he hoped he could be again.

Whether he understood his feelings or not, he stopped pulling away in the mornings. Because, yes, without fail, every time he woke up his arm was around you. You kept snuggling closer every night too; just that day he’d woken up to your head resting on his shoulder. He’d adjusted his haphazard grip on your body to hold you closer, tighter. It was a secure little bubble for the two of you to relish in, away from all the troubles of the world. How Loki wished he never had to leave it. Sadly, there was work to be done.

Currently, you were trying to find AIM’s secret headquarters. Loki was flipping through the files of intel he’d compiled, and you were tapping away on that computer device you had. You’d tried to explain how to use it, but it was lost on Loki. He promised to try again once you had more time. Which was odd, he thought, that you’d want to stick around him even after all this was over.

He wasn’t even exactly sure what he was going to do once his name was cleared. He didn’t particularly want to join SHIELD, though he felt that’s what you had in mind. So even if he didn’t agree to becoming the other half to a top secret crime fighting duo with you, would you still want to stay with him? What if he wanted to keep up this rebel, vigilante lifestyle? Would you keep traveling with him? He was pretty sure he’d miss you if you didn’t.

One thing he wouldn’t miss, however, was the fact you decided to put the TV on. The incessant blathering coming from the screen was beginning to annoy him. He’d tolerated it the whole week you’d spent together, but it was really getting on his last nerve now.

“Darling? Would you mind turning that off?” he asked.

“Do I have to?” you pouted. “I think better with the background noise.”

He walked over to the counter you were sitting on, going to grab the remote. You picked it up before he could and held it above your head so he couldn’t reach it. Unfortunately, even with the boost your perch on the countertop provided, he was devastatingly tall. You tried moving it back behind you a bit, too, but after a quick struggle, he seized it from your grasp with a smirk, hitting the power button.

“So some music then?” you asked with a grin.

“How about some peace and quiet?” he chuckled.

You playfully sighed. “Only for you.”

He hadn’t realized it during your little game, but he was standing between your legs so that they were wrapped around him a little. He knew it should have been oh so easy just to move away, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Your fingers began to run through his hair as he stood there, the tenderness startling him.

“What are you doing?” he puzzled when you stopped for a minute, only to start massaging his scalp.

“You seem stressed,” you shrugged, hesitating for a moment but ultimately deciding to continue. “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” he sighed in relief as he allowed tension to leave his body. “It is perfect.”

When you finished, ending by smoothing his mussed hair back down, he rested his head on your shoulder, eyes hidden in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist and you held him back, contentedly humming your approval. It was dangerous that he felt so attached to you, he thought. He was also surprisingly worried for you, but he could write that off in his mind as he felt like he was in your debt, something he didn’t like being in to anyone. The only way he felt certain he could repay it was by keeping you safe.

“Are you certain they will not find us, darling?” he checked. “That we should not move again?”

“We’re practically hiding in plain sight, and we haven’t really been out of this room in a week. We’ll be alright,” you assured him.

“Ok,” he acquiesced, though he was ready to protect you at any cost. His clever little darling mortal. But before he could analyze what all that really meant, something else occurred to him. “Wait a minute, that is it! Hiding in plain sight.”

You cocked your head at him as he pulled away a bit so he could look at you. “You mean... AIM is hiding in plain sight. Of course! Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”

“Well, it is just an idea. After all, we have checked their active facilities and found no suspicious activity there.”

“Good point,” you mused, going back to your computer. “But what about a site that’s not up and running yet?”

Loki looked on at the screen as you ran a few algorithms. He must admit, he was rather impressed as you quickly narrowed the options down location by location until only one was left.

“Here,” you said, turning the device so he could see it easier. “A new facility they’ve been ‘remodeling’ to make it the latest branch. But look when they bought it and started renovations; just a little over three months ago.”

“Which corresponds with the spike in their activity,” Loki caught on to your point. He took your hand and led you over to the bed where his files were laid out. “Hold on, I know I have a history of their transactions somewhere... Aha! Here, look; they have not bought very many items with which to refurbish a new building. Plus, those are not any of their usual contractors.”

“So that’s it then. That’s their base,” you said with a bubbling excitement. “So now we just have to get in.”

“No offense, darling, but are you sure you are up for it?”

“Yes,” you glared. “Besides, look at this. They’re ‘hiring.’”

Well, you were determined and clever, Loki had to give you that. The only problem being AIM was too. They were pretty good at keeping up a front, and he somehow had a feeling something would go terribly wrong. Still, some kind of backup would be nice. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings either. Norns, he really was going soft for you.

“Alright. So we go in for an interview and then sneak off to where they conduct their more unsavory business. But if we are going to clear my name, we have to let SHIELD know too,” he thought out loud.

“Easy,” you replied. “I’ll ping them our location once we get there. They’ll ship out immediately.”

“True,” he said, though he wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of letting them know where he was, let alone where you were. However, he didn’t really see many other viable options. “Then I suppose we should set to work, darling.”

You were able to get interviews for that Wednesday, just a mere three days away. Loki had noticed a disclaimer at the bottom of the form that said you may be offered a job at a different location. How very clever of them, he thought, to multitask like that, keeping up a front and expanding their company at the same time. Then again, he felt like it wasn’t the smartest idea to let anyone into a place where you were cooking a nefarious plot. That’s what happened when people got secure in what they did, though. They got lazy.

Regardless, about twelve hours later, you were off to California for your appointments, hoping the cover of night would make it harder to track you. As the sun rose on your car driving along the interstate, Loki broke the comfortable silence that had settled between you, ready to say what had been on his mind for the past several miles.

“You know that if something goes awry, we will not be able to save the other, right?” he began. “It will jeopardize the mission.”

“I know,” you replied. “We have to focus on taking them down. It’s not like SHIELD will be particularly happy with me either if we fail.”

“Yes, well, I thought it was worth mentioning. I am glad we are in agreement.”

After a few more minutes of silence, you spoke again. “Hey, Loki?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I think I’m falling for you.”

“Then,” he answered, turning his head to look out the window in order to hide his blush. He wished he could say it as bluntly as you had, but his nerves made him settle for a slightly veiled confession. “I am glad we are in agreement about that too.”

[justsomewritingblog]

Of Boggarts and Nightmares

Request:  None

Requested by:  Nobody

Pairing:  Fred Weasley x reader

Warnings:  Mentions of death

Word count:  4K+

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

Hogwarts was always fascinating to you.  Every corner you turned, it always felt like something was happening.  There were ghosts, appearing food, teleportation, and things you couldn’t even describe.  You were currently in Defense Against the Dark Arts, one of your favorite classes, with Professor Lupin, your favorite teacher.

“Tomorrow we shall be working on facing our fears!”  He announced as everyone packed up their things. “Please read the chapter on ‘Boggarts’ for homework tonight!”  He called. A couple students thanked professor Lupin before heading out.  You approached the professor after almost everyone had left, placing a small box on his desk.  “Another one, Miss L/n?”

You grinned, shrugging.  “Consider them as ‘tokens of my appreciation’.”  You offered.

“I’ll open it at the end of the day.”  He informed, getting ready for his next class.  You nodded, heading out the door.

“Thanks, Professor!”  You called over your shoulder.  When you faced forward again, you had only just closed the door behind you when your wrists were grabbed and you were drug away.  You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly who it was.  Or rather, who they were.  You allowed yourself to get pulled into a mostly empty hall.  You looked up as soon as you were permitted to stop, seeing two identical redheads looking down at you.

“What do you keep giving the Professor, L/n?”  Fred asked.

“Nothing of your concern.  Why?  Jealous?” You asked, smirking.  A mischievous glint was in your eyes as you stared the redhead down.

“Hardly, love.”  He shot back immediately.  You ignored the pet-name, getting back to matters at hand.

“Does it matter?”

“Let’s just say we’re curious.”  George replied.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”  You retorted.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not cats, then.”

“Maybe not, but you are in Gryffindor.”

“Well, so are you.”

“I’m not the one being nosey.”

“Touché.”

You rolled your eyes at his response, placing your free hand on your hip.  (You were still holding your things from DADA class.)  “Can I go now?”  You questioned.  The twins glanced at each other, having a silent conversation.  You knew that whenever they did that it was a bad sign. You quickly turned around, rushing out of the hallway to try to get into a more crowded area, hoping that they would lose sight of you.  Or if they didn’t lose sight of you, if it was more crowded they wouldn’t cause a scene.  You had a feeling they would anyway, and that it was too much to hope for, but you were trying.

You kept glancing behind you, making sure they weren’t following. Your relief was cut short when you bumped into a chest.  Your wrists were grabbed before you could react, and you were pulled back into the chest, a firm hold keeping you there.  Your eyes widened as your face became red.  You looked up, meeting Fred’s eyes.  You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but you couldn’t.

“Thought you could get away so easily, huh?”  He breathed out softly.  You visibly shuddered, and you knew he saw it.  You groaned softly, burying your red face into his chest, hoping to hide it.  He chuckled softly, letting you feel the vibrations rippling through him.

“This is so humiliating.”  You mumbled.  Fred looked around briefly, noticing that you were getting a few looks.  Fred leaned down to your ear.

“Hold on.”  He whispered. The next thing you know, you’re in an empty hallway.  You looked around, taking in your new surroundings.

“Are you gonna let go?”  You asked after a long moment of silence.

“Not a chance.”

“And why’s that?”

“Now who’s being nosey?”  He asked, a large grin on his face.

“Well, they are my hands, after all.”  You retorted, smirking back.  Fred didn’t respond.  He simply chuckled, pressing his forehead against yours.  You closed your eyes, savoring the moment and trying to burn it into your head forever.  You didn’t know how long you were there, but you heard a voice calling.

“Fred!  Y/n!”

You and Fred snapped apart, turning to the quickly approaching figure.  Fred dropped your hands, placing his in his pocket and turning almost fully to his brother.

“What’s up, Georgie?”

You clasped your own hands, missing the warmth his provided already. A frown formed on your face as you looked down at them.  You clenched and unclenched them, trying to get the nice feeling back.  Giving up, you put your hands into your pockets as well, looking between the twins as they plotted the next stage of their latest prank on Filch.

You stood there in silence for several moments before you finally waved your hand in front of their eyes.  You only spoke when they turned to look at you.  “I’m gonna head out.”  You informed, jerking your thumb backwards.  “It’s getting late, and I kinda want to eat some time tonight.” You joked lightly, backing up.

The twins both smiled at you, but you noticed the smiles were different. George smiled at you with genuine happiness and waved you a temporary ‘goodbye’.  Fred’s seemed slightly forced, and you noticed the usual glint in his eye was no longer there.

You turned your back to them, making your way to the great hall like a normal human being.  As you approached the Gryffindor table, you noticed Ron, Harry and Hermione sitting pretty far down, muttering to each other.  You shook your head.  They were always involved in some kind of trouble.  They were almost as bad as the twins.

“Look, Potter!  A dementor!” You heard a voice shout.  Harry whipped around, facing the door.  You looked to the door as well, seeing nothing. You looked behind you, seeing Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle laughing their heads off.  You rolled your eyes, sighing.  Of course, with Draco at school, everyone had heard about Harry’s little incident on the train.

“Pick on someone your own IQ, Malfoy!”  You shouted across the hall.  Malfoy’s head whipped to the Gryffindor table, scanning for the owner of the voice.  His eyes met yours.  You turned to fully face him, crossing your arms and manspreading, your back against the edge of the table.  You noticed Fred and George walk in, but you didn’t take your eyes off of the blond Slytherin.

“Oh, you mean like you?”  He retorted, raising an eyebrow in a mocking manner.

“Are you saying I’m smart, or dumb?”  You prodded, a sly smirk taking over your features.  You really hoped he would answer in a way that would work.

“Well, I think that sentence speaks for itself.”  He replied, earning laughs from the entire Slytherin table. A crooked grin overtook your face. This was better than you could have ever hoped.

“Well, you said I have the same IQ you do, so clearly that means that you’re dumb as well.”  You shot back, turning back to face the table.  The entire Gryffindor table erupted into uproarious laughter.  The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables let out a few good chuckles, trying to be less obnoxious.  Malfoy glared daggers into the back of your head as you started your meal.

“Bloody he-”

“Ron!”  Hermione scolded.  Ron cleared his throat, turning back to you.

“That was awesome, Y/n!”

You shrugged.  “He set himself up.”  You explained simply.

“Well, well, well.  The rose has thorns.”  A voice said, joining the conversation.  You turned, seeing Fred.

“But we knew that.”  George told his twin, pointing at him.

“Indubitably.”  Fred replied. You chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“Well, I hope you’re happy, L/n.”  Hermione started.  “He’s now surely going to be upset.”

“What’s he gonna do?  He’s two years younger than me.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t try anything.”

“You worry too much.”

“He could tell his father.  You know that’s who he cries to when he doesn’t get his way.”  Hermione reminded, her eyebrow raising in superiority. A cold fear swept through you. Your heart stopped beating briefly and you felt like your stomach was in your throat.  Your eyes flashed in terror briefly before you responded.

“Well, he can’t do anything to me.  I technically only repeated what his son said.”  You played it off, shrugging one shoulder.  Hermione opened her mouth, no doubt to contradict you again, but a voice beside her cut her off before she could say anything.

“Well, I think it was amazing.”

“I agree, Ron.”  George told his brother, leaning on your shoulder.  “Couldn’t have done it better, myself.”

“Could have used some dung bombs if you ask me.”  Fred countered with a shrug, his hands in his pockets. You smiled softly, looking down at your plate.  George sat down on your left, leaning in close towards you.

“Really, L/n.  It was brilliant.”  He complimented.  You shook your head, raising your hand to settle him.

“It wasn’t that impressive.”  You insisted.  “It was nothing, really.”  You told him.  However, a strange feeling in your gut told you that you would regret your little bout of courage.  Draco, like his father, was relentless.  You could only hope he would think better than to pick on a Gryffindor two years older than him with the Weasley twins for best friends.  “I’m gonna head to bed.”  You finally spoke, breaking the silence that filled your group.  You could still hear the excited chatter from further down the table, though.

“You’ve only half finished your meal.”  Fred reminded.

“Not hungry.”  You replied dismissively, standing up.  “You can finish it, if you want.”  You told him, sending him a small smile.  You turned and sent a similar one to the rest of the table before walking out of the great hall.  You had thought about checking to see if Malfoy was following you, but you decided that if he was planning something, your ‘confidence’ might make him think twice.  You entered the hallway, trying to make your way quickly to the common room without anyone noticing that you were in a hurry.  But you also wanted to be there fast enough, just in case Malfoy did try something.

You approached the portrait of the fat lady and quickened your strides, hoping to get there faster.  You got there moments later, telling her the password.  The portrait swung open moments later and you hurried in, turning to look at the open portrait.  Only when it closed did the tension leave your body.  You collapsed onto the couch in front of the fire, resting your head against the back of it.  You closed your eyes, allowing the warmth to consume you.

You awoke with a start when you felt your shoulders being shook. Your eyes snapped open and you were met with a red-head’s face less than a foot away from your own.

“Oh.  Hi, Fred.” You mumbled groggily.

“You sound cheerful.”  He remarked jokingly, jumping over the back of the couch and sitting next to you.  You brought your head back down to re-align with your body again, looking forward and rubbing your neck.

“I just got disturbed from a nap.  What do you want from me?”  You asked, a barely noticeable joking tone coming through your grumbles. Fred grinned down at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.  You fought the red that threatened to take over your face.  “Where’s your other half?”  You questioned, yawning through the end of the inquiry.

“Oh, he’s still in the great hall.”  He answered.

“Why are you, here, then?”  You wondered aloud.  Fred looked down at you, his face losing the bright smile he had, being replaced with a slightly more serious one.

“We’re not attached at the hip, you know.”  He reminded.

“Really?  Could’ve fooled me.”  You replied, a small smirk taking over your features.  Fred smirked softly back at you.  You rolled your eyes, looking back into the fire, feeling its warmth.  You zoned out, the rhythmic movements being hypnotic.  “What do you think of Lupin’s class?”  You asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had taken over for a few minutes.  Fred’s head whipped around to face you.  His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“Why would you ask that?”  He asked seriously.  He then chuckled softly.  “Where did that come from?”

You shrugged, tearing your gaze away from the fire to look at him. “I dunno.  I guess I was just thinking about what Professor Lupin said before we left class.”

“What did he say?”  Fred asked, tilting his head slightly.

“He said that we would be facing our fears tomorrow.”  You reminded, looking back at the fire.  You didn’t want to look Fred Weasley of all people in the eye when you discussed fear. Fred cocked an eyebrow.

“And?”  He prompted. You let out a small, exasperated sigh, shrugging again.

“I don’t know.  I just-” Your eyes widened.  “I have homework to do!”  You remembered, jumping out of Fred’s embrace.  “Shoot, shoot, shoot!  I have a whole chapter to read!”  You exclaimed, grabbing your books and rushing up to the girls’ dorm.  Fred still sat, frozen in alarm by your sudden outburst.  He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

You entered the girls’ dormitory, throwing yourself onto your bed and flipping through all your books, trying to find the one on DADA.  You grabbed it and headed back downstairs, finding Fred still sitting on the couch.  This surprised you slightly, but you ignored it, sitting back down in your previous seat.  Fred looked over at you, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“There’s more light down here.”  You answered his silent question, flipping through your book to find the chapter on ‘Boggarts’.  You finally found the page, opening the book wider so you could see easier.  “What are you doing?”  You asked, feeling Fred lean in closer to look over your shoulder.

“Well, it’s my homework, too.”  He replied easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  You rolled your eyes softly, shaking your head before you began reading the chapter on ‘Boggarts’.  It was a disturbing chapter, to say the least.

The next thing you know, people are flooding in from the great hall, having finished supper.  Most of them were chatting quite incessantly, being loud about it.  You furrowed your eyebrows as you struggled to focus on the textbook.  You put your hands over your ears, drowning out some of the noise.  After re-reading the same two sentences eight or more times, you quit trying.  You closed the book, now that Fred was talking to George, and was no longer ‘studying’.  You picked up your book and stood, walking back up to the girls’ dorm.  It was much quitter up there, since there was only one other person up there.  She was currently reading something, too, though you couldn’t tell what it was. Once you finished the chapter, having been able to focus better, you went to sleep, dreading what was coming.

The next day in DADA class, everyone took their usual seats, waiting for the professor to arrive.  He walked in a few minutes later, ordering everyone to push the desks along the wall.  Everyone stood, some pushing physically, some using magic.  Once the room was clear, the professor pushed a dresser to the front of the room.  The dresser shook, the creature trying to get out.  “Now, we have a boggart here.  Who can tell me what boggarts are?”  He asked, looking around the room.  When no one raised their hand, you raised yours.  You wouldn’t have normally, but since Lupin was your favorite teacher, you tried to make an effort for him.  “Yes, Ms. L/n?”

“A boggart is a shape-shifter that takes the form of whatever the person it encounters fears most.”  You answered, bringing your hand back down.

“Correct.  Very good, Ms. L/n.”  He smiled softly, standing up straight.  “A boggart likes to hide in confined spaces.”  He informed, which you had recalled from your homework.  “The spell to defeat a boggart can be quite tricky, because you must imagine your fear in a funny circumstance, or with a funny look.  This takes away your fear, making the boggart powerless.”  He paused for a breath.  “If you are able to laugh out loud at a boggart, it will disappear immediately. The incantation ‘Riddikulus’ transforms the boggart into a more amusing form.”  He stopped for another moment.  “Now, I want everyone to say ‘Riddikulus’ firmly.”

The room was filled with a chorus of the word.

“Keep practicing.”  He instructed, turning around to face the closet.  He walked over, standing next to it, then turning to face the class. “Form a line.”  He instructed.  You filed in somewhere in the middle, being squished by the number of people in there.  “Ready?” He asked the first student.  At their nod, Lupin pulled open the door, and out came a giant snake.  Your eyes widened as the snake slithered closer to the group, hissing and showing its fangs.

“Riddikulus!”  The student shouted.  Before your eyes, a small puff of smoke appeared, and when it was gone, the snake was tangled, wrapped up in itself.  You clapped, along with some other students.

“Very good!”  Lupin cheered.  “Stand over there, please.”  He told the boy, pointing another side of the room.  A girl stepped up and the confused snake disappeared in a puff of smoke again. When the smoke cleared, a pile of bugs had replaced it.  They all came rushing toward her.

“Riddikulus!”  She shouted, pointing her wand at them.  The pile of bugs suddenly had a layer of ice beneath them, and they were sliding all over the place.  You chuckled, clapping again.

“Next!”

The boggart changed into many forms throughout the class.  It was a spider, rats, bats, bees, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named showed up on several occasions, and a clown appeared a few times.

“Next!”  Lupin instructed.  The girl in front of you went to stand along the wall as you stepped forward.  Your breathing was abnormal, and you were terrified of what form it would take.  You hadn’t really thought about your worst fear that much.  The boggart in front of you, that was currently Filch wearing a tutu, disappeared in another cloud of smoke.  You lowered your stance, trying to even out your breathing as you readjusted the wand in your hand.  When the smoke cleared, gasps from every student in the room could be heard.  The scene before you was terrible.  The wand that you had clutched so firmly moments before landed on the ground with a thud.  Your breathing stopped.

Before you lay Fred.  He was pale and his eyes were open, staring into who knows what, with a blank expression on his face.  He was bloody and bruised, and very clearly dead.

“The spell, Y/n.  Remember the spell!”  Lupin instructed.  You barely heard him.  It was as though you were underwater, and he was trying to speak to you from above it. You heard him, but it didn’t really set in.  You tried to remember what you were supposed to do.  ‘What was the spell, again?’ You wondered.  ‘Riddikulus.’  You told yourself.  But as you stared down at Fred’s lifeless form, you couldn’t think of any way that you would make this even the slightest bit amusing.

Your heartbeat raced and you were cold, clammy and sweating.  Your breaths were shallow and labored.  You couldn’t seem to get any air in.  You stumbled backwards, trying to get as far away from the image as possible.  Lupin, seeing that this wasn’t going to get any better, stepped in front of the boggart, which turned into a bright, floating orb.  The orb floated back into the closet, which Lupin closed and locked. He turned back around to face you, crouching down to your height, (you had fallen over), and offered you a kind, sad smile.

“I’m sorry, Professor.”  You squeaked out.

“It’s perfectly alright, dear.”  He told you honestly.  “I don’t know how I would have defeated that one, either.”  He reached out a hand, helping you up.  “Facing one’s worst fears can be quite a terrifying self-discovery and can very much indeed take over.”  He spoke softly.  You nodded your head, not thinking you’ll be able to speak again for a little while. “Just relax.”  He told you.

You closed your eyes, about to begin taking deep breathes, but as soon as you closed them, Fred’s dead form was in the forefront of your mind. Your eyes snapped open immediately as your breathing picked up again.  Lupin frowned, seeing you begin to panic.

“Will someone please escort Miss-”

“We will.”  Came two voices.  You didn’t even have to look to know who they were.  Fred and George appeared at your side, followed by a nod from Lupin.  They each grabbed a hold of an arm, pulling you out into the hall.  They led you to the Gryffindor common room, seeing as DADA was your last class for the day, and set you on the couch.  They both remained standing, whispering quietly to themselves as you stared into the fire, ignoring their presence.  You felt a kiss on the top of your head and you looked up, seeing George smiling sadly at you before exiting the room.  You frowned at his departure, not wanting this inevitable conversation. Fred sat down on your left, looking at you in silence for several moments.

The image flashed through your mind again as you stared at the fire. Tears escaped your eyes before you could stop them; though at this point, you felt you needed a good cry. But you’d do that later: not in front of Fred.  You made no move to wipe the tears away, still staring into the fire, mind trying to catch up with what was happening and what had happened.

“Are you okay?”  Fred asked softly.  At his voice, the tears started streaming faster and you closed your eyes, hanging your head slightly.  “Hey.” He prompted softly, taking your hands in his.  “Your hands are like ice.”  He noted, a small chuckle escaping his lips.  When you didn’t respond, he frowned, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His face lit up slightly when an idea struck him.  “Come here.” He spoke, picking you up bridal style. You covered your face with your hands. He sat on the floor in front of the fire moments later, putting you between his legs so your back was against his chest.  The intense warmth from being this close to the fire warmed your hands slightly, but you still felt numb.  He placed his chin on the top of your head, wrapping his arms around your middle.  He sighed through his nose, closing his eyes in comfort.

“That was awful.  It was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.”  You mumbled.  If he hadn’t been so close he wouldn’t have known that you’d said anything.  A large, uncharacteristic frown took over Fred’s face.

“Did you……did you know that was your worst fear?”  He asked softly.  Your breathing stuttered for a second as you tried your best not to hyperventilate.

“I don’t know.  I never thought about it much.”  You admitted, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.  “I mean, I knew I cared about you a lot, but I didn’t know that losing you would-” You couldn’t talk anymore.  The lump in your throat was too overpowering.  Fred rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to soothe you.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I care about you a lot, too.” He informed.  You hummed softly to yourself.  You were sure that Fred didn’t mean it the same way that you cared about him, but you appreciated the thought.  “I didn’t think-” Fred stopped himself, seemingly trying to figure out how to word his next thought.  You sat in unbearable silence, waiting for him to continue.  “I didn’t think you cared about me in that way.”  He admitted.  You weren’t sure why, but you felt like bursting into tears.  ‘He didn’t?’ You asked yourself.  You thought you had tried to make it pretty obvious.

“Fred, I-” You paused, too, unsure if you wanted to go through with this or not.  You sat in internal conflict for a few minutes before you took in a shaky breath. “Fred, I, um…I think I love you.” You whispered.  You didn’t dare face him.  You don’t think you would have been able to bear the look on his face should he not like you back.  When his silence dragged on, you quickly stood.  “You know what?  Forget I said-”

Fred grabbed ahold of your hand, pulling you back down to his level, this time to face him.  You sat in front of him with your legs wrapped around him, facing his bright eyes, surprise written over your features.  He let out a breathy laugh.  “I love you, too, you bloody idiot.”  He told you, a large grin on his face.

You were certain you’d stopped breathing.  You covered your face with your hands, trying to hide the blushing and the enormous grin that had taken over your features.  His fingers gently wrapped around your writs, pulling your hands softly away from your face.  You looked up at him, smiling like an absolute dork.  He grinned back at you, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.  You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment.

“Bloody heck! My eyes!”  A voice shouted.  You opened your eyes, turning and seeing George in the doorway.  He was covering his eyes but was smiling.  You pursed your lips in a fake frown, but sure that they could see a hint of a smile, and reached behind Fred, picking up a pillow and throwing it at his twin brother.  It hit George in the stomach with a force he didn’t expect.  He uncovered his eyes, placing his hands over his stomach as he laughed heartily.  You shook your head, not being able to hide the smile anymore.

“Party crasher!”  You shouted.

“Hey, it’s my common room, too!”  He defended. You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“You’re banished!”  You declared playfully.

“Ah, yes.  I’m sorry, King and Queen of the Room of the Commons.”  George replied, fake bowing.  You laughed along with Fred, throwing another pillow at George.

“Get out!”

“Alright, I’m going!”

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

A/N:  This is my first Harry Potter story!  What do y’all think?

Tag List:

[blueroan-equestrian]

Once upon an Arrangement

Smut.... way towards the end

Gaara x reader

part 2

Gaara Side

Gaara and his council haven’t been seeing eye to eye as they wanted him to marry a woman he never met from a new powerful country he never met. It wasn’t that he was waiting to find the love of his life or anything, he didn’t have time for a relationship and he doubted he’d marry on his own. But to marry someone... someone he never met.... felt wrong even for peace. Sure he had long given up on the idea of having someone to come home to but surely whoever they brought over, she must have dreamed to marry the one she loved not some random leader of some country she never heard of.

He sat in the meeting on whether or not he should consider a marriage to form an alliance with this country, and he had long tuned out the bickering of the old men who sat in front of him. It became clear that they expected him to marry to prevent a war and not look for any other way to settle this. This was the only way. Gaara knew he wasn’t going to have the time to learn the language so he assigned a few ninjas all female to learn the language so his new wife could speak in her native language and have some friends... or at least someone to communicate her needs to.

...

You’re POV

My country called upon me to marry some country leader I had never heard of to unite our countries. I was of course allowed to turn it down, but if my marrying someone, could save our country’s from going to war, it was my duty to go join our country’s together through marriage.

As we flew to a country I never heard of they put me in a large, flowing white gown and a long white veil over my head so I couldn’t see anything. Someone led me off the plane into a car where we drove for what felt like forever and when I got out we were greeted with voices in a language I didn’t understand. Many hands led me somewhere else with more voices that spoke in a language I didn’t understand as a pair of hands held mine. Then after some time my vail was lifted by the hands that had been holding mine, just enough for a pair of lips to come in and lay a soft kiss on my lips, and then laid the veil back down, took one of my hands in his and raised our hands up above our heads and was met with a loud roar and clapping. I then am led somewhere else where I finally have the veil taken off from over my face. I am in a large fancy bedroom with a blonde woman and a tall red headed man with the most beautiful sea foam eyes. He stood tall and with a stiff expression as he said something to me and then to the woman.

“Hello my name is Temari, and this is my little brother Gaara... and your husband. This will be your room. I and a few other woman have learned English for you. I will show you them later...” she paused for Gaara to say something to her. “Gaara is the Kazekage so he won’t be around much but he will provide for you just let me know or one of the staff that he has had prepared for you. Um ... You will meet them tomorrow. Good night.” The two then left me alone.

The room was spacious and and well furnished, and had a balcony with a view of the city that I would now call home. A place where I knew no one and no one loved me. I was alone and tears began to flow down my eyes. I was married to a man who never show me any more affection than the one time he did today, if you can count a small kiss. I was going to be trapped here to be alone utterly alone.

My crying must have been loud because the stern looking blonde woman walked in and her face softened. “Gaara sent me back... his room is right next to yours, he was worried... are you alright?” She asked as she reached out to place a hand on my back.

I nod, and choke, “I’m just homesick already.”

She nodded and patted my back, “I understand, you are going to be alright. Tomorrow me, Hana, and Aika will go out and see the city. You can tell us about your home and maybe we can find something to make you feel less homesick.”

....

Two years in

I sat in my husband’s waiting room reading a book sent to me from home waiting for the opportunity to force my husband to spend time with me. A new thing I learned I could do to get attention. I waited for his meeting to end before slipping in and walking the perimeter to touch everything on my way to him. Then I would sit down on one of the cushy chairs in front of his desk again touching his things. In broken language I learned over the two years I say to him, “What’s this and what was that about?”

He looks at me with the same stony face he always has on when we interact. “(Y/n) that is a gift from the hidden leaf village Hokage, please put it down... thank you. And that was just an update on his latest mission.”

I nodded pretending to care, “Have you seen Temari’s new baby boy?”

He nodded, “Yes very cute...You aren’t here to ask me to... you know.”

“No, you would have to be able to touch me first and a ton of other steps before that could happen.” I joked but he didn’t get it but his brother who just walked in, did.

“She’s right and honestly she’s hot and it’s a pity you don’t put any effort in her. Give the girl some attention, stop making her work for it.”

Gaara thought for a second and then stands up, moves around and takes my hand “He’s right, no matter how busy I am, I should have made time for you instead of having others do it for me. Have you eaten?” I sat there with my hand in his completely shocked but quickly realized what happened and shake my head. He smiled the first time in our relationship, “May I take you to lunch?”

“That um that would be nice.” I smiled.

He held my hand through our walk through the town to the restaurant. People stared at us as we walked and as we ate. We sat at the table eating quietly, when a waiter asked, “Don’t you two ever talk?”

Without flinching I tell them, “Actually this is the most he has ever interacted with me on his own free will and not me just interrupting his work day.”

I was only teasing but he honestly looked hurt and guilty. When we were walking back his fingers were a wiggly mess as they tried to hold onto mine. I squeezed his hand and bumped into him playfully, “You know I was only kidding around right?”

He nodded, “but I should be a better husband, learned your language, spent time with you, and made sure you were alright myself... but I... I was scared...”

I stopped walking, “Scared of what?”

“Of making you afraid of me... like they all were.”

I hugged him burying my face into his chest, “Why would anyone be afraid of you? I have never heard you once raise your voice!”

He patted my back awkwardly, “Oh.... um ok”

I began walking again, “I’m going to teach you English. We’ll use it to bond. What do you say? An hour a day?”

“Alright, we can have lunch together in my office every day.”

“No we need to be moving and experiencing.”

He looks at me with considerate eyes and nods and agreed.

“We start today!” I begin with basic greetings as we walked into his office and then some office things.

Soon he could have moderate conversation with me in my native tongue. “I want you to read this book, okay? It was my favorite as a kid.” I laughed as I handed Gaara a thin chapter book. “And don’t worry I will read it with you. It’ll be a good activity to do together and it’ll give you more vocabulary and practice.”

Gaara held the book in his hands with a look of confusion. He looks at me and says, “Um honey, I don’t know about this, I have to read a lot for work, I just want to relax during our time. Can’t we do something else?”

I deadpan him, “We could make a baby.”

He opens the book and began to try to read the words. I moved to sit on his lap and I could tell he wasn’t sure if I was serious earlier but he leaned back and wrapped an arm around me so I could get comfortable. While he and I began our reading journey a knock on his door saved him from the book we were reading, “come in!” He practically sang.

I raised my eyebrows but said nothing as Kankuro stepped in. When his eyes landed on us he stepped back, “uh should I come back?”

“No! I mean no come in.” The two spoke in their native language so quickly I couldn’t understand. They talked for a little over an hour with me on Gaara’s lap as if I weren’t there then Kankuro left and Gaara turned to me, “Um... honey... Kankuro .... um he thinks that I should have... that we should have a um... talk? Yes talk about um ... if we want um babies because you brought it up and um... do you want a baby?”

I laughed and leaned in to kiss him, “Honestly.... I wouldn’t mind. I think we would make adorable babies.”

“Adorable?”

“Yes you know... cute.” I giggled.

He nodded with a serious look, “Alright, I’ll do some...”

“Research.” I teased knowing him all to well.

“Yes research. And then we can uh...”

“Did you never get the talk?” I giggled.

The look on his face gave nothing away, “the talk?”

“Yeah, like sex and how babies are made.”

“I know how babies are made, I have a one and a half year old nephew.” He grumbled.

I chuckled kissed him and hopped off his lap, “Alright sweetheart, I know you have work to do... will I see you at dinner?”

He nods, “Yes, I’ll see you at dinner... could you send the gaurd at the door in?”

...

Gaara sat at the head of the table, I to his right and Kankuro to his left as we did every night since Gaara decided to be a better husband. The two brothers are normally quiet, only chatting a little. But today there was an air of awkwardness. “What is up with you two?”

The two exchanged looks, “Nothing, sweetheart...nothing how was your day?”

“Oh your going to tell me what is going on... maybe not now but you will... my day was good, I got a new dress.”

Gaara nodded, “Nice, is it nice?”

“Want me to show you tonight?” I asked cheekily. His face turned tomato red at the innocent comment. I smiled, “oh I know what happened!!! You went to big brother for sex advice didn’t you?” I giggled and what made it better was when Kankuro smirked and nodded confirmation. Poor Gaara was so embarrassed but it was too fun not to tease him.

Dinner finished and usually Gaara would go back to work. “Gaara, I was hoping that you could take a break tonight as our hour got interrupted.”

He was still quite flushed but agreed and quietly followed me. He only hesitated when I entered my bedroom. “Gaara I know I like to tease but seriously we should talk... tell me what questions do you have...? Do you want to start having sex? Forget about the baby thing.” I say sitting him on the couch in my room and sit down with him.

He sighed, “I do... I like being able to kiss you when ever I want and I like how it makes me feel...”

“It makes me feel good too.” I hummed reassuringly.

“I... asked Kankuro... how I... how to please a woman.”

I smiled and slipped out of my panties, “Give me your hand and I will show you around.... that’s my clitoris.”

“Should I um suck on it?”

I moaned “If you like, go ahead and get to know her.”

He slipped off the couch and hesitantly prodding at my vagina before leaning into use his tongue causing my hips to snap forward “That’s right....ohhhhhh!” He hummed into my pussy causing me to moan even loader. “Ahhhh just like that!!!!! Again!” He worked me until I arched my back, screaming, and cumming into his mouth. He came back up after I had gone limp.

“Did I do good?” I nodded too heady to voice yet. “Kankuro called that eating pussy.

“Yeah you ate pussy and you did good... do you want me to return the favor?”

“I don’t have a pussy.”

I laughed, “No do you want me to suck your dick?”

“Oh uh .... um okay but only if you want to.”

I chuckled, “You’re always so serious, go lay down on my bed.”

He does and I climbed up on top of him and gently pulled down his pants to reveal his thick leaking precum cock standing up desperately seeking attention. I leaned down kissed the tip before taking him into my mouth earning a sharp inhale. I bobbed head sucking as I twirled my tongue around his shaft as he squirmed until his hot seed shot down my throat and I swallowed every single drop of it. I fixed his pants before crawling up him and snuggled into his side. He looks at me with such satisfaction, “Wow.... that... that was just wow!”

“Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with me tonight.”

...

Gaara started to spend his nights in my bed, I in a pair of panties and an oversized T-shirt, and he in a pair of tight black boxer briefs. He slips an arm under me and the other in my hair as I snuggle into him using him as a pillow. When I wake up he is always staring happily down at me. “Good morning honey.” He would hum.

“Good morning... love... Do you have to go?”

He kissed my head, “Yes... but um I have something special for us tonight.”

I smiled up at him, “well I have something for you right now.” I hummed going underneath the covers to go down on him before sending him off to work.

Today I knew I wouldn’t see him for the majority of the day, not even during our normal hour. I am the wife of the Kazekage so I can go absolutely anywhere and I have plenty of people around me but not always in the positive way. I am almost never alone once I leave home. But I struggle to understand the mill of people and today was a little bit more than I could handle. Luckily, Kankuro was around and came to help disperse the crowd. He sat down with me at the little cafe I was at, “You know Gaara would be more than happy to send a gaurd with you when you go out... actually I am pretty sure that is what is the point of your gaurds... where are they? Gaara is going to lose his shit.”

I bit my lip, “I gave them the slip and before I went out into public with Gaara it was alright but now people know who I am and I just can’t be alone ... I just want to be a little normal.”

Kankuro nodded, “Then let me come with you as a friend. What ever you want to do I will go with you.”

I smiled at him, “that’s kind of you...”

After I was ready to go back home Kankuro walked me back, “I will see you at dinner.”

I nod and walk to my room. Gaara would be in a meeting with the elders so I decided to go draw myself a nice hot bath. Eventually I just sank down under the water and listened to the white noise though I had gotten so relaxed I hadn’t even noticed that Gaara had come in and was standing over the tub till he reached in and pulled me up, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I gasped, “just being alone. What do you want?”

He relaxed and released me and began to remove his now wet white robe. “I was just wondering if you were ... Um..... if you were alright before I started my next meeting, Hana reported you were in here for quite some time.”

“I slipped out and your brother joined me for lunch actually, I’m surprised she didn’t notice me walking back in.” I pouted.

He chuckled and sat on the edge of the tub, “she probably did but she wasn’t going to admit that to me that she lost you.”

“Kankuro did say that you would loose your shit.”

“Well he’s right but I will deal with that later ... are you alright?”

“Yeah... I’m just a little bit lonely.” I say shrinking back into the water.

Gaara stood up and undressed, “Scoot forward sweetheart, I’m getting in.”

I do move forward but I questioned, “What about your meeting?”

He slipped into the water behind me pulling me into him, “It’ll have to wait, my wife needs me more. After our bath we can jump right into my surprise for you.” I relaxed against his fully naked body as we soaked in the large tub. But once the water got cold I moved to get out he pulled me back. “(Y/n) ... I .... you know... I love you... you know right?”

I turned to look at him, “Really? You do?”

He kissed me delicately, “Yes, I love you. I love you so much.”

I smiled, “yeah? I love you too.” I smashed my lips into his again.

We got dressed in clean clothes (he now keeps his clothes in my closet) and he turned to me and says “Baby... honey, I am taking you back home and your going to introduce me to your world. I already have our bags packed and they have a car... they are called cars right?” I nod “a car here to take us to your parents house. Are you ready?”

“Oh my goodness!!!!! Gaara! This is so sweet!”

I fling myself into his arms and he hummed, “Happy anniversary baby.”

I was so excited. We got into the car, a car for the first time in four years, years I tried my best to focus on the new reality and not on what I would no longer have. Positivity is the best way to look at things my mom would always say. When we got to the plane Gaara looked at it with a look I never seen on his face before ... fear? I take his hand, “Are you alright, My love?”

He smiled just a little bit at my last comment, “I’m fine... but um... what is that?”

I couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit, “It’s a plane, it’ll fly us back home. Don’t worry it’s safe. Just hold my hand and you’ll feel better.” I give him my hand and I lead him up the stairs and into the plane. “It’s a long trip home so just relax okay? Don’t tense up just hold my hand until we take off and then I will show you the bed and we can take a nap, alright?” He nodded and I buckled us up before we got ready for lift off. As soon as the plane began to move, Gaara began to hold his breath. “Babe, breath, just breathe, every thing will be alright. It’ll be alright, it might feel funny at first but that’s just the momentum and cabin pressure. It’s perfectly normal just relax, that’s right good job.”

Once in the air I unbuckled us and led him to the bed room. I undressed him and then myself before climbing in bed and pulled the covers over us. He curled into me, “This does feel a little weird.”

“Gaara?”

“Hmm?”

“This was a really sweet anniversary gift, I didn’t get you anything.”

“You gave me you, that’s all I need and all I want.” He whispered kissing my forehead.

...

We get to my childhood house and before I let him open the car door I take both of my hands and turn his face to look at me before trying to fix his hair in some way. He of course sat patiently as I swept his hair side to side nervously. “Okay, um use your English, shake my father’s hand and hug my mother don’t bow ok? Ok uh, you shake my siblings hands but only if they offer alright? And um.... stick by me alright? They already hate you because they blame you for the arranged marriage thing but know that I love you, I do ok?”

“Ok I love you too, it’ll be ok.” We get out and before we reached the door, the door swung open and out my little sister and threw herself into my arms

When I set her down she looked up at Gaara and said, “Who the Fuck is this?”

“My husband, Gaara.”

“Oh can he go away?”

“No, he’s my husband now let’s go inside.” And we do and when it came time to introduce Gaara it became very tense.

“Alright, guys Gaara is my husband and I love him. He makes me happy so be nice.” I scolded.

...

Bedtime rolls around and I lead him to my bed room and we go to the family bathroom together to brush our teeth and use the bathroom. Coming out we got glares from my two older brothers as they stood in the door way of their room opposite of the bathroom. I take Gaaras hand and take him back to my room shutting the door. “I’m sorry baby. They are being such Assholes! You called them and got them all to come home so that you could bring me here and see them. But they treat you like some dictator!”

Gaara smiled gently as he began to strip getting ready for bed, “They just want to protect you, that’s all.” I nod and join him in getting ready for bed the rest of the way. We climbed into bed and he added, “Besides, I’ve been treated much worse.”

I propped myself up, ���what? What happened, tell me?”

He gave me a weak smile, and gestured for me to come snuggle with him, “Babe, come on, that’s not important, you don’t need to know that horror of my life.”

I sat up more, “No, I want to know! Tell me.”

He inhaled deeply, “Alright, alright but first I want you to lay down and put your head on my chest and cuddle into me.”

I nod and he tells me about how his dad sealed a demon in him when he was inside his mother’s belly. He was ostracized and demonized, he was made to feel alone and he did some horrible things. Things he was ashamed of and he begged me to let him keep his shame to himself, so I stopped pushing, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried but I am glad that you told me. I love you.”

He kissed the top of my head and began to slip down my body when my mother walked in freezing Gaara at my breasts. “I just wanted to say good night and I am so glad that you’re back... how long will you be staying?”

I groaned, “I don’t know mom, but Gaara is very busy so I am sure it’s not as long as you would like. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Oh uh... ok see you in the morning.”

She shuts the door and I immediately shove Gaara’s head down between my legs. Gaara has become quite talented at eating pussy. He makes hard not to scream. I had to smother myself with my pillow. He crawled back up and whispered “beautiful, that was beautiful.”

“Yeah? Want to take it one step further?” I nipped at his bottom lip playfully.

“Are you sure? I mean you’re family is here.”

I smile and pulled on some shorts and threw him his white coat, “Follow me.” I open the window and climbed out onto the garage roof.

He began to follow me, “Sweetheart please, be careful.”

I look at him and simply jump off the roof. He of course follows and keeps close to me. I led him to me and my brother’s childhood treehouse. I stripped off his white coat and laid it out I stripped off my big shirt revealing my bare breasts to him. He looks at me and smiled, “You get more and more beautiful every time I see you. Lay down.”

He disgaurds his briefs and I my shorts. I spread my legs and reached for him, “Careful with me my love.”

He climbed between my legs. He kissed my lips and began to rub his cock between my folds, both of us moaning. “You ready?” I nodded and he slowly began to push into me. He let out a low moan and nipped at my collarbone as he tried to control his hips and his movements.

He was so very gentle and I peppered the side of his head with kisses, “give me it, baby.” He growled and began to thrust into me, admittedly a little awkwardly as it was our first time and we both were experimenting with pace and angles. Gaara began to rut into me moaning into my ear as he begins to lose himself and I just lose control and cum triggering his orgasm and he cummed inside of me. I smiled at him feeling like a teenager sneaking around. After a moment of relaxing against him I got dressed and said, “Come on honey, we can snuggle inside.”

He looks at me happily dressed himself too and follows me back to the roof helping me up and back into my room. Gaara seemed to have relaxed and so we both fall asleep. In the morning we are woken up by my little sister, Halley. “Wake up! Wake up!” She sang as she jumped on our bed. “Mom’s making pancakes!”

She then jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. I get up and shut the door and begin to get dressed, “Honey? Are you alright?” I asked as Gaara, who is a early riser, curled up in bed.

“Yeah... I’m fine .... my head just hurts.” He mumbled.



“Aww got a headache? Do you want some water? I’m going to fetch you some water wait here.”

I trotted down my stairs and into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and my mom asked, “Where’s um Ga-Gaara? It’s Gaara?”

“Yes it’s Gaara, he’s upstairs, I think the jet lag is getting to him, he gots a headache.” I moved to fill the glass and grab the thermometer.

“Why don’t you get him some aspirin? It’s in the cabinet.”

I shake my head, “He’s never had that kind of medication before. I don’t want him having a reaction.” I take the glass of water back to the room, and sit on the bed and rub his back, “Honey, come sit up and drink this water.” He groaned but did as I asked. “That’s it, all of it. Now how’s your tummy feeling? Can you eat?”

“Not hungry.” He moaned sickly.

“Oh? Please lift your arm.” I set the thermometer under his armpit and then held his arm to his side. He rested his head on my shoulder. I have never seen him sick before and as soon as I look at the thermometer I frowned. “You got a low fever... you need to rest. Is there anything else I can get you to make you feel better?”

He lays back down and curled back up, “No I’m fine... go see your family... have fun.”

“I will come check on you in an hour alright? I love you, get some sleep.” I hummed kissing his head.

I go back down stairs to join my family for breakfast. “Where’s the dictator?” My brother laughed.

I glared at him, “He’s not a dictator! He is my husband and you know I really don’t appreciate how you have treated him.”

“Dear...” my mother began but I wouldn’t allow her to continue.

“No! None of you have met him before, you know nothing about him he is kind and polite!”

“But the letters.”

“What letters?”

“You know the ones saying he was hurting you.”

“There was never a way for me to contact you until recently.”

“Oh? Uh... oh dear.” Mom flustered.

“What did you do?” I growled.

“I just put some Hydrangea leaves in his tea yesterday....” she says twisting her fingers together.

Standing from my place I growled, practically screaming, “I can’t believe this!!!! You tried to kill my husband!”

“No... just make make him sick... he’ll be fine in a day or two.” She squeaked.

I grabbed my plate and made one for Gaara before storming back to my room. “Baby? How do feel now? Are you ready for something to eat?” I cooed.

“Mmm...” he groaned “I feel like the room is spinning.”

I set the plates on the side table and then sat on the side of the bed to rub his back, “Aw baby... I’m so sorry. Do you want some more water?”

“No.... I just want to sleep.”

I nod and kiss his head, “okay.... how about a nice hot bath, it always makes me feel better.”

He nodded so I go and draw him a nice hot bath. I then help him to get to the tub. He sit on the toilet as I started to undress him. Once in the tub he seemed to relax. I dropped in a lavender bath bomb into the water and sat on the edge of the tub with him. “Careful, don’t get to close I don’t want you to catch this.”

I look down ashamed of my mother, “Don’t worry... I won’t catch it... my... my mother thought that you were abusing me... so she um... she poisoned your tea.”

“Why would she think I was abusing you?” He asked confused.

“Someone... someone has been writing her. But I swear Gaara it wasn’t me, I would never say such things.” I pleaded that he believed me.

“I know, I know honey... don’t you worry. Just get in and comfort your husband.” I smiled and stripped down and slipped into the water sitting between his legs and my back against his chest.

“Does the water help?” I asked.

He cupped my breasts in his hands and squeezes, “Yes, still a bit queasy and a bit dizzy but this.” He squeezes my breasts for emphasis, “helps.”

I chuckle, “You like my breasts, huh?”

He rested his head against the tile and continued to grope my breasts. After another day Gaara was feeling better and I decided to go ahead and show him the sights, just the two of us and my little sister. He was actually really good with her.

...

Time to go home and I was now sick but not like I have ever been before and my mother is suddenly excited? She ran to the store and returned with a... pregnancy test? “Mom really?”

“Yes go check... come on before you leave hurry up?”

I take it and pregnant... “PREGNANT? But... We only had sex once! Just my luck.” I grumbled

Gaara who had been packing and loading the car came in, “What’s wrong honey?”

“Pregnant!” I answered still in shock.

“Yeah? That’s amazing! I’m going to be a Daddy!” Gaara sang swinging me around.

“Gaara? You want this?” I asked confused. He always seemed to freeze up when I mentioned babies before.

“Of course, we made this baby with love.” He coos with a hand on my belly. “This baby is our manafestation of our love. I can’t wait to tell Kankuro and Temari, they’ll be so excited!”

I smiled softly, “I am glad that you are happy my love.”

....

The attention I got when we got back was a bit much and shaking my guards was lot harder as Gaara would come to check on me and if I wasn’t with them, he would become increasingly more angry with them. “Gaara!” I hollered, “I need my space, these guards are suffocating me! You! You are suffocating me! I realize that I am carrying your baby and you want to make sure it’s safe but for god’s sake it’s in the safest place it can possibly be! In my belly!”

He stood from his desk and walked over to me, embracing me in his arms, “I know you’re frustrated with the gaurd detail but it is as much for your safety as it is for OUR baby. Now Kankuro and I can’t be there all the time, so you’re going to have to have a detail with you.” He leans back to look at me and sighs, “I need you to tell me that you understand....”

“But I don’t!” I grumbled. I wasn’t going to say anything just to put him at ease, that’s what recks marriages but so does stubbornness. “Ok how about this, as long as I am on the compound I don’t need a gaurd just when I leave to go into town.”

He thinks about it and caves, “Alright, that sounds reasonable but if you leave without them we’re going back to full time alright?”

“Alright”

...,,

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.  

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.  

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose…because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.

[lovelylogans]

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

see other chapters, notes, and warnings here!

chapter five: obligate mutualism

obligate mutualism: a type of mutualism in which the species involved are in close proximity and interdependent with one another in a way that one cannot survive without the other.

REMY

Emile appears in Nice, squealing and jumping up and down.

“Hey!” Remy says warmly, hugging him; Emile’s joy is so infectious that Remy can feel Emile’s smile stretching across his own face. “What’s got you so happy?”

“They let him off!” Emile says exuberantly. “Rem, they let Remus off! Jay proved that they don’t have anything on him so Remus is free to go!”

“Oh my God, that’s amazing!” Remy says, then, “wait, what was Remus under arrest for?”

“Oh, murder,” Emile says, waving that off, “but Jay proved that Remus was just joking when he was threatening him, so Remus got off! Oh my goodness, he’s out! He can finish his latest book! He can stay with Roman! Yay!”

“Yay,” Remy cheers weakly, wondering what the hell kind of cluster his boyfriend has birthed.

ROMAN

Roman drops a substantial amount of money on champagne on their drive home.

Remus rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning a little bit, so Roman assumes that he’s happy about it. Or maybe he’s plotting how to ruin Roman’s possessions with champagne. One of the two.

Roman opens the door, balancing the champagne bottles in his arms, feeling a lot like he’s forgotten something. He drops his keys into the bowl on the entry table.

“Hey, Roman! Ooh, champagne—on a Tuesday? What, did you land a role with Guillermo del Toro?”

“God, I wish,” Roman says wistfully, then, oh shit I forgot to tell Sasha.

Sasha blinks a couple times before she stands up.

“Um, hey, sweetie,” she says. “Who’s your friend?”

Remus snorts loudly at the fake endearment.

“Um, Sasha,” Roman says, shutting the door behind him. “This is my twin brother, Remus.”

Sasha gawks at Remus. “I didn’t know you had a brother!”

Remus socks him in the shoulder so hard that Roman nearly drops the heavy glass champagne bottle. “You bitch, you said you’d tell her!”

“I forgot?” Roman says weakly.

“I have no idea how you put up with him,” Remus tells Sasha. “Is the convenience of a beard worth hearing him sing Disney in the shower?”

Sasha, looking a little startled that Remus knows the full truth of the deal Roman and her made, rebuts with, “

“Where have you been before this, anyway?” Sasha says.

“Oh, jail,” Remus says brightly.

“Oh, okay,” Sasha says, and, with a level of casualness that frankly stuns Roman, moves on to, “So, I’ve had a gripe with one of your books for forever.”

“Oh?” 

“I didn’t know you read his books,” Roman says, mystified.

“Yeah, I started back when I was doing that slasher pic a year and a half ago, you remember that?” Sasha says. “Helped me pick up on the internal life of a stalking victim. Anyways, the first book I read of yours—”

“Behind the Bushes, I’m guessing,” Remus says.

“Yeah!” Sasha says. “I super love that you subverted the expectations and the victim was the one that slaughtered the stalker, but I do think you could have carried through a threat she was considering through the book.”

“Which threat is that?” Remus says. “I write a lot of threats.”

“She should have castrated him,” Sasha says. “Duh.”

Remus looks at Sasha how an inventor might lovingly look at a device that finally works.

Roman groans, because he should have expected this outcome, and feared it.

“Oh, no,” Roman says. “You’re going to be friends.”

Sasha and Remus give him identical grins full of mischief.

LOGAN

Virgil appears sitting on the counter. Logan isn’t even fazed by the surprise of seeing him, although his heart rate does pick up a little.

Over the past few days, this is the way it’s been, between them; Logan suddenly finding himself looking over Virgil’s shoulder at his dinner when he’d meant to be looking at data charts, Virgil finding himself with handfuls of flowers in the face of the barren landscape of the Antarctic. 

Even when he isn’t actively visiting, Logan still feels that pull, his mind turning to Virgil at the oddest times of day. He tastes coffee when he should be drinking tea. He finds himself idly doodling South African native flora during dinner. He thinks Virgil might like this when he tries to read a novel during his relaxation times and wonders how best to explain the minutiae of his science to another scientist.

“Hey, Logan,” Virgil says, and Logan feels that thrill in his stomach again.

“Hello, Virgil,” he says, after making a show of turning on his Bluetooth, for the benefit of the other scientists in the lab. “How have you been today?”

“Pretty okay,” Virgil says. “My mom said she was gonna see if she could find any of the other sensates down here that my grandma knew, so I might be able to hear more about her cluster.” 

“Excellent!” Logan says. “Be sure to ask if they’re connected to the Archipelago?”

“You and that Neolithic Google,” Virgil says with a lopsided smile. “But, yeah. I’m being careful about it; I know not every sensate’s a great person to connect to. Ergo mom as a mediary.”

“A wise plan,” Logan says. “It does seem like a disadvantage that all that’s needed for a lifetime of connection is a singular instance of eye contact.”

“Maybe I should invest in a really good pair of blocking glasses,” Virgil teases, and he reaches over. Logan hadn’t even noticed they’d been slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Virgil gently nudges Logan’s glasses back into place, his finger resting on Logan’s nose, and Logan’s mouth goes abruptly dry.

This might be the first time one of us has touched the other.

Logan tries to swallow, coughs a little bit, and says, “It could potentially be a wise investment, yes. I’d—um. I’d have to do more research into what exactly would suffice to block eye contact.”

“Yeah,” Virgil rasps, and he clears his throat, too. “Yeah, that’s probably, uh. That’s probably a good thing to ask Emile about.”

“Yeah,” Logan says, and he fruitlessly tries to refocus his attention on his research. He’s much too aware of Virgil’s eyes on him.

JANUS

Janus turns the phone over and over in his hands.

One last job, two more jobs, three more jobs…

He remembers getting arrested for the first time. He remembers the lawyer who got Janus out of it, pro bono, and managed to keep it off his record by the skin of his teeth. 

He thinks about representing Remus in the courtroom; he thinks about the state of his accounts; he thinks about how the threat of jail that Remus would have faced was what spooked him into pursuing a law degree in the first place.

He thinks about Remus and Roman, side-by-side in the courtroom; he thinks about Roman declaring that he doesn’t care if Remus killed him or not.

Roman is an idiot. An idealistic, loyal, altruistic idiot.

Janus is many things. He is not an idiot.

Key, scowling, sits across from him at the restaurant. Sriracha aioli, fried cod. Janus has been here a thousand times before.

He proffers the little box; Key takes it.

“This is my last job,” Janus says.

Key snorts. “I’ve heard that before.”

Janus hands him the burner phone, too.

“Oh shit,” Key says. “For real?”

“For real,” Janus reaffirms. 

“Shit,” Key mutters, sitting back against the booth. They stay quiet. A waitress drops off their meal. They stay quiet for a bit longer.

“Don’t suppose I can lure you back with money,” Key tries to joke.

“No,” Janus says. 

Key heaves a sigh. “All right. Well.”

He moves for his wallet, and Janus shakes his head.

“I’ve got lunch,” he says. “I can appreciate that I’m leaving you in the lurch for a computer guy.”

Key snorts and shakes his head disbelievingly. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

Janus chews the inside of his lip. “If you ever need a lawyer…”

“Yeah,” Key says. He stands. “Yeah.”

Key leaves. Janus stays.

He’s been here a thousand times before. And yet.

PATTON

There’s a hint of spice in his mouth, and Patton rolls over in his bed to see Janus.

“I keep showing up when I should be sleeping, I think,” Patton muses, before he reaches out and takes one of the chips that Janus is neglecting.

Janus snorts. “Roman was stealing those the last time I was here. Perhaps you all keep showing up to eat my food.”

Patton smiles, dipping the chip in the sauce. “Maybe,” he says.

Janus exhales loudly, before he says, “I have a brother too.”

“Oh?” Patton asks, intrigued, and for a moment they’re in Patton’s bed, Patton lying down with his head propped up on his arm, Janus sitting uncomfortably at the corner.

“Unlike Remus, mine did it. Does it,” Janus amends.

Patton frowns. “That’s tough.”

“I did too, until,” Janus checks his watch. “Three minutes ago.”

Patton’s eyebrows lift in surprise, but that’s the only sign he shows. 

“It’s the reason I became a lawyer,” Janus says.

“Oh,” Patton says because that—that clicks. He doesn’t know Janus very well—he will, surely, but he doesn’t yet—but taking on the good-quality job of lawyer for self-protective reasons makes a lot of sense. Janus kind of seems like the type of person to not really want to rely on other people.

“So, I don’t,” Janus says, and he sighs again. “I’ve been chasing down just one more job for years and years, and now…”

“Now, you’re done, and you don’t really know what to do with yourself?” Patton asks sympathetically.

Janus nods and he drinks some of his Ribena. The fizz of blackcurrant condensation pops in Patton’s mouth.

“Can I offer some advice?” Patton says. “You can do whatever you want with it.”

Janus scoffs a little, but he gestures for Patton to go ahead.

Patton takes another chip. “There are a lot of other people who need a lawyer’s help to stay out of jail. Not just sets of brothers.”

He dips the chip, takes a bite, and is back in bed right as a thoughtful look dawns on Janus’s face.

REMUS

Roman’s fake girlfriend is delightful.

They spend almost the entirety of dinner talking about their favorite horror movies—Sasha is quite the aspiring scream queen in her career, so it makes sense that she’s studied the greats—to a point where Roman puts his hands over his ears and went “I can’t hear you, lalalalalalaLALALALALALALA—”

Truly excellent. Especially when Roman had screeched at the top of his lungs when Sasha had gone into an in-depth side tangent about the verity of the special effects of slitting throats in movies.

And now—

“Ooh, that was good!” Remus says eagerly, pointing at the Sasha in the little screen as she gets stabbed.

“Right?!” Sasha says, and they ooh! in unison as the movie gets increasingly bloodier.

“I hate you both,” Roman grouches from where he’s slouched between them, one hand covering his eyes.

Sasha ruffles his hair. “Go ahead and break up with me, then, I’m sure the press will get us both booked like crazy.”

Roman grumbles to himself, and Remus grins at Sasha over Roman’s head.

“If any of my shit gets adapted into movies, I’m absolutely gonna make sure you get cast into a leading role.”

Sasha grins back. “You’re the best fake brother-in-law I could ask for.”

⁂

Sasha is flopped out on the couch, asleep, as the credits of the movie roll in the background.

“Where is your nearest sharpie,” Remus asks, and Roman rolls his eyes, pulling Remus to his feet.

“Leave her alone, Freak-a Kahlo. I’ve got a spot set up for you to sleep.”

“But,” Remus whines, images of lewd drawings dancing in his head, but he allows Roman to pull him away anyway.

Roman has got a little cot set up for him in his room; it’s like they’re ten again, on a trip to see their abuela, except Remus can’t tackle him and wrestle him to the ground for the honor of sleeping on the bed.

Well, he could, but considering Roman posted Remus’s bail, he figures that roman could be allowed to sleep in his own bed.

All the same, it does give Remus a strange sense of deja vu of their (admittedly rare) family vacations; Roman brushes his teeth and does his extensive skincare routine in the bathroom first, then he cajoles Remus into handling his hygiene, please, they’re living together in the same room, eating soap didn’t exactly work to make Remus smell like a spring rose. To which Remus would usually rebut good, he doesn’t want to smell like a spring rose, he wants to smell like sewage, to which Roman goes ugh, how are we twins, how did two people so catastrophically different come out of the same womb, at the same time, to which Remus says it’s payback for stealing my dick in utero, to which Roman says that doesn’t even make any sense, it’s not like I have two, to which Remus says—

It’s a whole familiar argument, anyway. But Remus does at least dunk his head into Roman’s bathtub to get his hair sopping wet and swish around some mouthwash.

They’re both tucked into their blankets, and Remus is staring at the ceiling, wondering at the best ways to ruin Roman’s fancy linens. He thinks Roman’s fallen asleep until his voice pipes up.

“I’m glad you’re not rotting in jail.”

Remus ugly-snorts. “Yeah, I guess I am too.”

“Thanks to our weird psychic lawyer, anyway.”

“And your fuck-off big actor money,” Remus reminds him, rolling over to face him. The room is so dark that he can barely see the outline of Roman’s face. 

“Yeah, honestly, bribing the cops was going to be my next plan if you didn’t show up,” Roman says sleepily.

Remus grins at Roman in the dark. “I’ve been a fantastic influence on you.”

“Incorrect,” Roman grumbles.

“You’ll be watching slashers with Sasha and me in no time.”

“Ugh, I hope not,” Roman says. 

“They’re inspiring!”

“Yeah, to you, Mr. Big Horror Novelist.”

“You know what else is big—”

“Ew! Ew ew ew, I know I set it up, but ew. No.”

“...This—”

“Remus, I’m kicking you out, I swear to God.”

“No, you’re not,” Remus sing-songs, “You were gonna bribe the cops, I’m holding this over your head forever.”

“I didn’t actually bribe the cops.”

“Yeah, but you were gonna,” Remus says. “Funnily enough, that seemed like the biggest case the cops had against me, too. That I was gonna.”

“I know you’re a horror writer, but I hope you don’t write about Miguel,” Roman says. “Might look a bit too If I Did It to the public.”

“Course not,” Remus says, his eyes slipping shut. 

“Good.”

“I’m going to be writing a book about murdering the cops.”

“Oh, much better,” Roman sighs.

VIRGIL

Virgil spits out his toothpaste into the sink and looks up into the mirror to see Logan in his reflection, his glasses off, a toothbrush in hand.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Virgil quips.

The Logan in his reflection smiles at him awkwardly around his toothbrush, blushes, then redirects his attention to finishing off brushing his teeth as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Virgil uses that time to wash his face; Logan follows not long after. Virgil gets a whiff of the facewash Logan is using; it smells rather nice, something floral.

They do their respective routines in companionable quiet; Logan, waking up for the day, and Virgil, about to go to sleep. 

“What’s on your agenda for the day?” Virgil asks, moisturizing his face.

“Research, research, and more research,” Logan says dryly, rubbing sunscreen onto his face. Their hands move in unison; moving in small circles on each cheek, up to the forehead, down the nose, the chin, down the neck. Mirror images, if not for their distinct physical differences.

“Probably should’ve guessed that,” Virgil says, rubbing the excess moisturizer into his forearms. 

“Oh, you missed—”

And suddenly, Logan is not just in his mirror, but in his bathroom, reaching out a hand to smooth some more moisturizer into his skin.

“Right here,” Logan says softly, his fingers gentle on Virgil’s cheekbone. Virgil barely even breathes as Logan smooths away the smear of moisturizer.

“There,” Logan murmurs, but he’s still cradling Virgil’s face.

“Thanks,” Virgil rasps.

Logan smiles at him, just a little. “You missed right there when we first met, too.”

“Did I really?” Virgil asks. He can barely focus on anything else except the cool smoothness of Logan’s hand.

“Mhm,” Logan says. “There I was, thinking I was going crazy, and there was this African man planting a jacaranda tree into the tile, with a smear of sunscreen on his face…”

“And I had this note-taking Pole talking to me about preferring if I were a hallucination,” Virgil says. “Telling me you’d ignore me if you saw me again.”

“And then I immediately started questioning you,” Logan says, smiling. “And…”

He trails off. His hand is still on Virgil’s face. Virgil is standing so stock-still he could probably turn into a scarecrow, if only for the virtue of keeping Logan’s hand on him.

“And then I kept feeling this pull,” Logan continues quietly, looking Virgil in the eyes. He isn’t wearing his glasses; there is nothing between Virgil and those bright blue, captivating eyes. “This pull to come to you.”

“Me too,” Virgil says softly.

Logan licks his lips. He says, softly, “I do wonder why it is us, that keep feeling this pull to each other.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Logan affirms quietly. “Maybe there’s that call to those similar that we theorized about, that day. Maybe that’s what fuels this connection. Whenever I learned something new, I flashed to you. Always to you. I’m not sure if we’ll ever find out why. Perhaps there’s a level of…”

A level of what, Virgil doesn’t know, because he leans in and kisses Logan.

Logan freezes, and, with anyone else, Virgil would panic and pull back, thinking he’d been presumptuous, but he abruptly feels a thrill in his stomach and a yes in hid mind that may as well be in Logan’s voice, and Virgil’s shoulders relax at the presence of it, of that pull between them finally being eased.

Virgil wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, and Logan’s arms twine around Virgil’s neck, and they kiss, continents and oceans apart, able to taste the minty toothpaste on each other’s breath.