#just so you know my arms are jacked (sighs)

[nilesdaughter]

La Mécanique du cœur

Fandom: Critical Role Characters: Percy De Rolo, Vex'ahlia, Anna Ripley, Vax'ildan, Keyleth of the Air Ashari, Pike Trickfoot, Trinket (Mention), Syldor (Mention), Saundor (Mention), Scanlan Shorthalt (Mention) Pairing: Perc'ahlia Word Count: 3,017 Note: Here's the "Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart" AU that no one asked for, written for the "Heart" prompt for @percahliaweek. [Also found on AO3.]

Percival’s heart died at the age of eighteen.

That isn’t to say that Percival died, of course.

Rather, the young man in question survived the massacre of his family and the torturous pain inflicted upon him by Anna Ripley, living only by the “grace” of one of the good doctor’s many experimental forays into blending science and magic. Her medical tools made quick work of carving him open, breaking bone and tearing apart wet muscle to then hold his bloody heart in her hands. Within the new cavity of his chest, Ripley installed metallic gears and springs and small weights; where once he functioned through his own biological processes, he was driven by clockwork, the delicate kind that he once tinkered with in his youth.

And so, Percival persisted, though he was now forced to treat his heart like a machine.

x-x-x-x-x

Vex’ahlia’s heart died at the age of nineteen.

That isn’t to say that Vex’ahlia died, of course.

Rather, the young woman in question learned the shattered remains she had left in the wake of Syngorn and Byroden had to be held in a tight fist, guarded just as fiercely as Trinket’s mother had protected her cub in her final hours. As she traveled with her brother and slowly learned the magic of the world around her, she discovered that some of it could be used to wrap her fragile heart with briars and thorns. More times than not, the spike of the vines was an internal and mild discomfort that reminded her to tread carefully. But sometimes (the worst times, she believed), her thorns could be visible for all to see. They wrapped around her entire body in a startling display of gnarled and twisted vines, prickly things that warded off anything that would want to hurt her first.

And so, Vex’ahlia persisted, though she was now forced to act as though her emotions were inconsequential.

x-x-x-x-x

“I don’t trust him,” Vax’ildan said in a murmur, throwing a glance over his shoulder towards the pale human man that they’d just released from one of the many prison cells surrounding them.

“He can help us,” Vex countered. “If nothing else, he at least seems to know where to find this cult we’re apparently looking for.”

“Didn’t you hear his chest?” he pressed.

“Of course I did.”

“Then you agree that something’s wrong with him, or that he’s hiding something, because he hasn’t said a word of that to us.”

“And would you expect me to announce my condition to the entire world?” Vex asked with a quirked brow.

Vax stared at his sister for several long moments before rolling his eyes as he clicked his tongue in frustration. “That’s different, Stubby—”

“Is it?”

He sighed heavily. “Alright, alright, fine, be that way. But if he tries anything weird—”

“I know,” she said simply, because she always understood her brother and his caution. It was, after all, his own way of helping further shield her brambled heart.

x-x-x-x-x

Percy, as Vex learned his name was, managed to fit in with the rest of their group, despite clearly having some sort of noble background. Though he kept to himself, he did what he could to help with the various odd jobs they picked up, particularly so since he armed himself with some of the newfangled black powder weapons that were becoming increasingly popular throughout the world. Despite the weapons being terribly loud and often reeking of the burnt powder, they did pack quite the punch, and his precision with his shots usually allowed them to significantly reduce the amount of time they spent in combat.

The longer he spent with Vox Machina, the more they realized that he was also rather good with repairing things, a talent not restricted to the careful maintenance he had to keep up with so his firearms were in working order. Slowly but surely, it became commonplace to find Percy in possession of their broken odds and ends, piecing things together to repair weapons or to craft something entirely new and useful.

As such, it was not a surprise when Vex noticed Percy pulling out a small tool kit one evening when he had volunteered to take watch and she had yet to fall asleep. What was a surprise, however, was when Percy shrugged off the heavy blue coat he rarely parted with and unbuttoned his shirt. As the fabric fell away from his shoulders, pooling at his elbows, she saw the face of a clock on the front of his chest, resting over the space where his heart would be. What she initially assumed was nothing more than some intricate pocket watch sticking to his skin with sweat was soon proven to be attached to him as he opened the small glass door protecting the face and inserted a small key into one of the lowermost winding holes; as he turned his hand, his expression contorted with discomfort. Still, he turned the key a few more times, no matter how frequently he winced, before the subtle movements of the clock’s hands seemed to move much more smoothly than the jerky pace they had had before he used the key.

“So, that’s what you’ve been keeping secret from us, darling?” she couldn’t help but ask, propping herself up on one elbow as she looked at him.

Percy visibly stiffened, sitting ramrod straight as his eyes widened, before he hastily closed the clock’s door and pulled his shirt back up over his shoulders, his now-shaking hands fumbling to rebutton the garment.

“I, ah, didn’t realize anyone was still awake…” he said instead of answering her question.

Vex fell silent for a few moments, just studying him in curiosity. “Is it magic?”

Percy fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, intently focused on ensuring it lay flat against his throat.

“...I’m sorry for prying, darling,” she said gently, slowly recognizing that she would be equally evasive if the situation had been reversed.

Percy sighed a little and clasped his hands together in his lap before hesitantly meeting her gaze. “No, it’s… You all were bound to find out eventually.” He paused to tug off his spectacles before using the corner of his shirt to clean the lenses. “Yes, it is magic, but not by my own doing. I admittedly lack the interest, much less the aptitude, for such things. And, regardless of how I came by it, this is the only thing keeping me alive.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, more out of sympathetic understanding than pity.

“It is merely the current circumstances I have to live with.”

“...Does it hurt?”

Percy was quiet for several moments before he sighed and let out a small, almost exasperated, laugh. “Perhaps you could join me for the watch? I’ll happily answer whatever questions you have, dear, but it may be a bit more comfortable for you to sit up while we talk.”

x-x-x-x-x

Despite how carefully Vex guarded her emotions to keep her thorns under the surface of her skin, Syldor would always be one of the catalysts for pushing them up into plain view of everyone. It seemed like a miracle that her anxiety waited to take full bloom until after Vox Machina left the embassy. But it also seemed like a curse that it happened when Percy was still at her side even as everyone else had moved on to their rooms. As she heard the subtle creak and groan of the vines grow louder and felt the full-body prickle of the thorns forming, she let out a strangled noise of frustration.

Although Percy’s eyes widened in alarm, he had the decency to not jump away from her like some others had in the past.

“I… suspect you’re not alright,” he said tentatively.

She laughed, wet and strangled and lacking any true mirth, as she shook her head. “No, of course not. He’s supposed to be in Syngorn! I don’t know why he had to be here in Emon of all places.” She sighed and wrapped her prickly arms around herself, trying to further the physical shield around her form.

“If it will make you feel better, dear, we don’t actually have to search for your… for the Ambassador’s acquaintance.”

“No,” she said, vehemently shaking her head. “No, I… I don’t want him to know that I’m this upset about seeing him. I can’t let him know.”

“He isn’t aware of the thorns,” Percy guessed.

Vex swallowed and answered in a soft voice, “No. It was a kind of magic I learned after I left his home.”

“Then he won’t know,” he promised. “Even if that means the rest of us have to speak to him without you present.”

Vex tentatively turned her dark eyes to his blue ones, pools of sincerity that she usually only ever saw in her brother, lacking in judgment for the condition her body was in. Slowly, impossibly, her posture relaxed and the briars and thorns and vines receded under the compassion in his gaze.

“That… means more than I think you realize, Percival. Thank you.”

x-x-x-x-x

"Couldn’t sleep?” Vex asked quietly as she slotted herself beside Percy.

“Of course not,” he said, sounding as numb as his distant stare seemed to indicate. “Not when I know she…” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep until I finally end this.”

Vex nodded and watched him carefully, knowing full well that he was leaving plenty of things unsaid but also knowing he was unlikely to want to disclose any of them. That did nothing to stop her from worrying about him.

“Would you like me to keep you company?”

He was silent for a long while, the only sound between them the steady tick-tock, tick-tock of his heart. He eventually nodded, slow and hesitant. “Yes. I… I would.”

She nodded again and turned her attention to restringing Fenthras while Percy took apart Retort, cleaned the parts, and reassembled the weapon. He seemed more than happy to pass the time in silence, however broken it was by the ticking of his heart. When it grew late enough that Vex was about to suggest they call it a night and join the others in the train’s sleeping car, Percy lightly cleared his throat.

“I have something I would like to give you, Vex’ahlia.”

“Oh?” she asked with a small tilt of her head. Not that it was unusual for Percy to make things for her, of course; it just hadn’t seemed to be one of his priorities in recent days, and understandably so.

“Ah… not my usual fare, I admit, but… but it’s important for you to have, I think, before tomorrow.”

Vex felt a sudden whisper of anxiety in the back of her mind, sounding so much like Saundor that she almost physically winced (or was it because her protective thorns were pricking at her insides?), telling her that Percy was trying to say goodbye in his own way. She refused to entertain the thought and tucked the fear away deep in her chest, beneath the briars.

“What is it?” she asked, forcing her tone to remain light and teasingly curious.

He offered her a weak smile and reached into an inner pocket of his coat, producing a small—but thick—envelope. When he passed it to her, there was a surprising amount of heft to it. As she moved to tear the envelope open, he reached out and placed a shaking hand over hers to stop her.

“Please… please wait to open it. I suspect you’ll know when the time is right.”

“...I’ll wait,” she promised softly, once more feeling the prickling pain of her anxiety and once more burying it.

x-x-x-x-x

“No matter what today”—Percy paused to release a shaky exhale—“I forgive you. But I cannot let you leave.”

Ripley let out a noise that seemed caught between a derisive snort and a frustrated growl, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket with her clockwork arm and flinging him to the ground. The sound of glass cracking seemed nearly as loud and sharp as any gunshot from that afternoon. It was difficult to tell if it was from the shattered ground, Percy’s spectacles, or from the face of his heart; when he managed to push himself up into a semi-sitting position, Vex’s sharp eyes could see that it seemed to have been all of the above.

The glass pieces from the face of his heart were chased by its minute hand as he moved to aim Retort up at Ripley, his own hands trembling hard enough that Vex was certain he would miss the shot. The doctor seemed to reach the same conclusion as she shook her head and leveled Animus at Percy in return, her smile condescending and disappointed.

“It seems to me, Percival, that you are the one who won’t be leaving here today.”

A gunshot sounded, accompanied by the sounds of even more shattering glass and the crunch of wood and various metallic snaps.

As Percy fell backwards, pain erupted all over Vex’s skin as vines wrapped around her body and she screamed and screamed and screamed. She was vaguely aware of Keyleth’s responding cry and Scanlan’s curse and her brother suddenly at her side like a shadow, fumbling to notch an arrow when her hands were usually so sure. She drew back her bowstring, the briars and thorns of her pain indistinguishable from the ones blooming along the curve of Fenthras, the weapon mirroring her own heart, and she released all her grief and rage into the arrowhead that sank into the junction where Ripley’s clockwork arm connected with her shoulder. The others also turned their attention to Ripley, mercilessly cutting into her and breaking her as she’d broken their beloved tinkerer. When the doctor screamed her pain and frustration, the sound was cut short by Vex’s second arrow striking true in her throat.

Ripley’s decimated body barely had time to hit the ground before Vex, vision little more than a blur, dropped Fenthras and ran to gather up the pieces of Percy into her shaking, thorny arms.

x-x-x-x-x

Vex’ahlia, I have no doubt that you or your brother have found the letter I left for the group as a whole. I also have no doubt that you all have read it and are, in varying degrees, rather cross with me. This, however, is meant for you and you alone, dear. I’m aware that giving you my winding key is likely too little, too late, but I wouldn’t entrust it to anyone else. While you now hold the literal key to my heart in your hands, please know it belonged to you long before this. I have many regrets but I think not telling you sooner is the one that I carry with the heaviest burden. I sincerely hope you’ll hold onto this piece of me. Yours, Percival

x-x-x-x-x

“Honestly, what he needs is a clockmaker,” Pike sighed heavily.

“Then… there’s nothing you can do, Pickle?” Vax asked after he cast a sideways glance at his sister, watching her once again reread the letter that Percy had evidently left for only her.

“I never said that,” Pike replied with a small huff, moving to wipe her bloodied hands with a damp washcloth. “I managed to stabilize him but he’ll need a completely new clock to ensure he actually stays alive. Unfortunately, though, I think that’ll have to wait until he wakes up.”

Everyone in the room thankfully left the ‘if’ unspoken between them.

“So, what do we do now?” Keyleth asked, her voice still hoarse and scratchy from how much she had cried.

Pike sighed again, a little softer, and looked over Percy’s form in the hospital bed. “All we can do is wait.”

x-x-x-x-x

Despite Vax’s attempts to coax her out of the room, Vex became a near-constant fixture at Percy’s bedside, his winding key in her pocket and his letter in her hands, watching and waiting for him to open his eyes. Sometimes, for the sake of drowning out the irregular and weak ticking of his heart, she would talk to him, keeping him updated on the team’s misadventures or reading a book aloud.

On one of the many nights she tried to read to him, she found that she couldn’t focus on the words and, with a sigh, she closed the book. As she set the book down in her lap, she looked over at Percy, gnawing at her lower lip as she became lost in thought.

“I don’t know if you can actually hear me, darling, but I’m so proud that you entrusted me with your heart. That you let me see it as plainly now as you did when you first showed it to me. But, yes, I am a bit cross with you for not telling me about your feelings sooner.” She let out a small laugh before she sighed and continued, “It means nothing, though, without you here. Your home needs you. Your sister needs you. I need you. And… I should have told that my heart is yours in return.”

“Oh, good. I was worried I’d simply made a complete ass of myself for leaving you that note.”

Vex’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice and was met with a thoroughly exhausted—but cheeky—smile as Percy struggled to sit up.

“Percy!” she gasped, frustrated and surprised and relieved and giddy all at once, before she nearly flung the book across the room in her rush to move in and wrap him in the tightest embrace she dared.

“It’s good to see you, too, dear,” he said weakly.

As she pulled away from the embrace, she began to pepper his face with kisses, feeling his skin warm considerably under the shower of affection but not caring enough to stop, trying to pour every ounce of her love into him so he couldn’t have any doubt that she reciprocated his feelings.

x-x-x-x-x

Percival’s heart revived at the age of twenty-three and Vex’ahlia’s heart revived at the age of twenty-seven, irrevocably intertwined in each other.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Chained

He's been hungry for too long, starving for your touch and smell and taste. But he can't have you - not today. He is too wild and uncontrollable. He could hurt you so badly from the sheer force of his need. The rut is boiling his blood. That's why he's chained.

"Stay away!" His breath is hoarse. "Stay... away."

But it's so hard to look at him like this. He is drooling and panting, and you can see his cock throbbing. He is slowly transforming and his knot is red and heavy, glistening from sweat.

You know how dangerous he is. He could rip you with those claws and long fingers as if you're a paper tissue. His body is huge, warm, pulsating. You lick your lips feeling your core getting moist. You rub your thighs.

His eyes bulge. "Are you..." He can smell you. He can smell your arousal and your adrenaline heating up your body. "Are you insane?"

"Calm down. You will stay tied down. I will just... help you let off steam."

You kneel in front of him, push his thighs apart to admire his big throbbing cock with ease. It's almost purple, ready to explode, moist from precum. The veins that decorate the shaft are pulsating from hot blood rushing through them. It looks so... delicious. And the knot at the base... It's so big and firm and smooth.

You take it in your hand and hungrily look upward. His mouth is open, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes lustful and hopeful. He wants to say something, but he can't. He just stares at you, at your mouth.

You kiss his knot, gently, rubbing your lips against his cock's skin, not breaking eye contact. He swallows hard and carefully watches as you plant pecks along his shaft to his glans. Once you lick his tip, the chains rattle from his arms trying to move, and he grunts. "Nnnng... this is not... helping."

You giggle. Poor guy. Well, he deserves a little treat. You open your mouth and take his whole glans into it. It's so big that you almost can't breathe. But you've been practicing. He sighs a deep sigh, lifting his head upwards with eyes closed, enjoying your touch. His teeth are getting sharper and longer. They are so beautiful, you think to yourself.

You push your hand down your panties and into your wetness, thoroughly dampening each and every finger. You lift your hand up, offering your lewdness. He immediately snaps his head downward, his nostrils wide, chains shaking and ringing, and slurps your fingers into his mouth. You both moan, tasting each others arousals.

He licks your fingers like they are popsicles, collecting every drop of your juices and groans as you start sucking his glans, jacking him off with your other hand. He's too big for you to put him completely down your throat. You need practice - a lot more practice - to swallow his cock entirely. But, for now, this will do. And he's not complaining.

As you pump him, now with both hands, and suck him off, his chains shake, moving in rhythm with bobbing of your head like an instrument. He growls, moans and pants, and you know he won't last long. With a howl, he orgasms into your mouth and you let some of his seed down your throat, but you let the rest spray you, covering your face, neck and chest with thick cum.

He jerks his hips once, twice, and as soon as he empties his balls all over your skin, he looks at you.

"Oh my." He smiles, breathless. "You did such a good job."

"Did I?" You beam licking his seed off your upper lip.

"Mmhm... But guess what?" His grin becomes even wider. Alarmingly so. "My chains broke."

[etheries1015]

We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD

OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...

Accidentally courting them

General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu

Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.

TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3

Leona

It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.

"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.

"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.

"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.

"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.

"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."

Ruggie

You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.

"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.

"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.

"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.

Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.

Jack

You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.

"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.

"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,

"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"

...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.

Malleus

You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.

You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.

"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.

"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"

"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.

Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.

Lilia

Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.

You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.

"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.

"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"

"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.

"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.

"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.

"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.

"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,

"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"

Bonus:

Rook

You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.

"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.

"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)

Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??

~~~

This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh

Masterlist

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: short fics (blurbs?) characters: leona, floyd, jade, vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

It's eight in the morning after another disappointing attempt at rest, and now you can't even sleep in. Damn visitors.

You throw open the front door.

"What? What could you possibly- wh- Leona?"

The housewarden smirks. He looks a little too proud of himself for this early in the morning...

"A little wolfie told me you weren't sleeping well. Lucky for you, that's my specialty. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, letting himself in and making himself comfortable on the couch in the foyer.

He pats the spot next to him.

"Listen..." you say. "I don't know what you heard, but I'm fine."

"Don't be proud. I don't pity you, I just... owe you. Now get your butt over here, yeah?"

Leona isn't so scary when he's asleep. He's more like... the world's largest pillow. Of course, you're at risk of being smothered until you crawl into a better position, but once you're on top, he's surprisingly warm and comfortable.

You can tell you're being watched before you hear anything.

And you think you might just know wh-

"Shrimpyyy!"

For two boys so tall, the tweels are awfully quiet. Especially when it comes to "surprising" you in random places. This time: the hall.

Floyd pulls you into a bone-crushing hug while Jade watches from behind, smiling subtly.

When he finally lets you down, you're dizzy. (Though, at this point, you'll take whatever physical touch you can get).

"Shrimpyyy, why didn't you tell us you were lonely? We had to squeeze it outta Spade," Floyd pouts.

"His face makes fascinating expressions when he's afraid," Jade says, merrily.

Before you can answer, Floyd's already got you under his arm (seriously? Where do they find the strength?) and is heading straight towards the hall of mirrors.

You already know there's no getting out of this one...

Floyd is, unsurprisingly, all over, from leaning his whole body weight against you to lying across your lap, to biting your shoulder (in his sleep...?) Oh, and he drools, too.

Jade sits on your other side, one hand holding yours, the other leafing through an almanac from twenty years ago.

You're almost hesitant to admit just how nice it really is.

"And nothing else has worked?" Vil says, throwing open the door to your bedroom with no regard for a "hello" or, "how are you?"

You blink. "...Hello to you, too. May I ask what you're talking about?"

He storms inside, standing over you with his hands on his hips.

"Just that I overheard Epel Felmier asking my vice housewarden if he would be willing to satisfy your need for physical affection. You've been struggling? With sleep? And you didn't think to come to me, first?"

He almost sounds... offended that you didn't.

"...Well... I wasn't making a big deal about it,"

"So, no teas, no vitamins, no pills- nothing has helped?"

You shake your head. He sighs.

"Perhaps it is purely psychological... very well. Get up. I hope you don't toss and turn much, I'm a light sleeper,"

Vil is completely still when he sleeps. No tossing, no turning, no drooling, no snoring. He also insists on sleeping on his back, you, clinging to his side, and a single arm around you. Just as elegant as when he's awake. He'd be a true sleeping beauty if not for the mumbles of nonsense that come from him every few minutes. You swear you can make out your own name, once or twice or three times...

He is warm nonetheless, and his mumbles and idle stroking of his fingers on your waist is enough to satisfy you for a night of good sleep.

[luveline]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k

cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping. 

I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered. 

You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely. 

When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap. 

You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in. 

It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them. 

Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him. 

You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you. 

Your phone rings a moment later. 

You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too. 

“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“How come?” You sit up with a little start. 

“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.” 

“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man. 

“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?” 

“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.” 

“And you want me to fix that?” 

“You always fix my neck.” 

“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that. 

“I have bad posture.” 

“You have perfect posture.” 

“No, it’s quite bad.”

He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.” 

He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.” 

“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.” 

“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.” 

“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.” 

“What did I lose?” 

You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.  

“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.” 

“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.” 

“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.” 

“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says. 

“Or I could make us both some?” 

“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”

You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected. 

Cruel overpass, you think. 

Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek. 

The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later. 

You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back. 

Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—

A sudden chill. 

The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard. 

Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain. 

You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor. 

All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth. 

A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.

Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath. 

He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something. 

Your phone rings on the counter. 

“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.

You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins. 

—

There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.

What will he make of my handiwork?

You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.

The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.” 

“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.” 

“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot. 

“Honey?” a voice asks. 

“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays. 

Honey, are you in here?

—

The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder. 

Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off. 

Jack squirms closer, no room left between them. 

“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says. 

Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead. 

“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.” 

Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.” 

“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.” 

Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile. 

“I look tired,” he says. 

“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it. 

“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.” 

Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile. 

“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.” 

Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.” 

“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?” 

Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.” 

“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.” 

Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea. 

Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you. 

“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?” 

“You said I can give her a hug.” 

“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.” 

“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says. 

Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.” 

Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs. 

“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”

“Yeah.” 

Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room. 

You’re sleeping. 

Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing. 

He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze. 

The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown. 

Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic. 

“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly. 

Jack stays sitting. 

He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt. 

You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown. 

“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says. 

“When can she come home?” 

“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you. 

“Why is she sleeping all day?” 

Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.” 

“Should we go?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.” 

“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.

“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees. 

If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give. 

You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap. 

Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly. 

“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession. 

“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face. 

You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms. 

“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open. 

Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again. 

Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk. 

The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”

“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.” 

A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need. 

He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively. 

Aaron lets out a breath. 

“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.” 

“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.

His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some. 

Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone. 

“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.” 

“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.” 

“I know.” 

“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.” 

“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.” 

A tear rolls down your cheek. 

“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.” 

“Is that what you want? You want a hug?” 

“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder. 

You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 

Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down. 

Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying. 

“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently. 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears. 

“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic. 

“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow. 

He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow. 

Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand. 

—

Is she breathing? Can she talk? 

I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from. 

Where’s the worst of the blood? 

It’s everywhere. 

Abdominal? Chest? 

I can’t tell. I can’t tell. 

Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?

Yes. Yes, but– 

Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions. 

Honey, can you hear me? 

Your name said clearly. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Yes,” you murmur. 

“If you need a minute, that’s okay.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass. 

Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface. 

“Maybe we should start from the beginning.” 

There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.

“Okay.” 

Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you. 

You close your eyes. 

“What stuck out?” 

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.” 

“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?” 

“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.” 

Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.” 

“I never got that far.”

“What did you do?” 

“I filled the kettle.” 

“What kettle?” 

You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.” 

“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?” 

“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.” 

“When?” 

“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”

“And then–”

“Then he grabbed me.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. 

You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.” 

“Like he was quick on his feet?” 

“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.” 

“How big did he feel?” 

Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big. 

Where’s the worst of the blood?

“He said he was going to hide,” you remember. 

“He said that? He said ‘hide’?

“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.” 

“When was this?” 

It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers. 

“That was at the end,” you say. 

“After he stabbed you?” 

You wince. “Yes. After.” 

“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.” 

“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.” 

“When Hotch found you?” 

“No, before.”

“Before?” she asks. 

You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move. 

You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?

“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room. 

“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.” 

You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose. 

“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly. 

“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 

So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much. 

You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room. 

You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron. 

You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees. 

That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay. 

He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear. 

“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread. 

You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again. 

“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Please don’t let me get hurt again.” 

Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.” 

You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep. 

Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one.  He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you. 

He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water. 

“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.” 

You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say. 

“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Please.” 

“Did Emily tell you about my interview?” 

He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?” 

“I don’t want to say it again.” 

“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.” 

You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?” 

“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.” 

You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread. 

“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern. 

“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.” 

“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?” 

You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop. 

Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again. 

It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative. 

“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says. 

“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world. 

“…This is my fault.” 

“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep. 

Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.” 

“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly. 

“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.

“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.” 

You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

“I know.” 

“No, I love you.” 

He’s saying sorry.

“I love you,” you mumble back. 

“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?” 

Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.” 

“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.” 

You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound. 

His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both. 

You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours. 

“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says. 

You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek. 

—

Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises. 

“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters. 

“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.” 

The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved. 

I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone. 

It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them. 

I won’t. 

He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will. 

Foyet didn’t need much more than that. 

He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either. 

Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid. 

One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.

Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner. 

Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries. 

He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you

Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this. 

He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again. 

He rubs his brow. 

“You okay?” Emily asks. 

When he looks up, JJ is gone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not.” 

He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says. 

It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day. 

He can’t fail you, too. 

“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks. 

Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?” 

“Being in love.” 

He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.” 

She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.” 

Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks. 

He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger. 

It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says. 

He shakes his head. 

She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.” 

But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety. 

“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.” 

Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.” 

He turns his attention back to the board without another word. 

—

When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest. 

Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him. 

He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks. 

He goes home satisfied.

“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. 

“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits. 

Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!” 

“Hi, buddy, what are you doing?” 

“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.” 

“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.”

You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.

“You got him?” you ask. 

He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.” 

“How did you find him?” 

He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.” 

You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?” 

“Brave.” 

“I’m a coward.” 

He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” 

All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby. 

Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless. 

“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.” 

“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.” 

“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.” 

“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue. 

“But it keeps happening.” 

His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead. 

“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?” 

“I remember,” he says, practically mouths. 

“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–” 

You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands. 

“I didn’t want this for you,” he says. 

“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?” 

He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.” 

You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.” 

He looks at you in silence. 

“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.” 

He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?” 

Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag. 

You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed. 

But not everything. 

“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head. 

He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly. 

You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered. 

He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Was Jack good?” 

“Jack’s always good.” 

“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?” 

“She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.” 

“I can get those.” 

“I know, I knew you would.” 

He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek. 

“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely. 

“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip. 

“My present?” 

He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.” 

In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him. 

He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.” 

He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️

[auroralwriting]

jealousy, jealousy

bucky barnes x avenger!reader (no use of y/n)

bucky hates when his girl has to flirt with the enemy

word count: 1.5k | warnings: none

The whole idea of it was absolutely, utterly stupid.

Zemo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious when he couldn't leave your name out of his mouth during the whole Sokovia Accords issue. Now, he was up to no good once more after escaping prison, leaving the Avengers no choice but to find out what he was up to.

The only problem? He refused to speak. Well, he refused to speak unless it was with you.

Bucky felt rage creep up his whole body when Steve explained what you had to do. You had to actually pretend to be interested in every single word Zemo said, meaning even if he flirted, you had to just take it. Apparently, this genius idea was Tony's, and the rest of the team had agreed to it, meaning Bucky's opinion was next to worthless, especially when you already agreed.

He trusted you with every ounce of his being, and he knew you wouldn't do it if you couldn't handle it, but he hate the fact that Zemo was probably going to flirt your ear off. You were Bucky's girl, his doll, his special girl, his everything, not Zemo's.

Nonetheless, Bucly had to hold his tongue and silently nod as Steve explained.

"What're you thinking, Buck?" Steve asked, noticing Bucky's silent deminor.

"I'm thinking about how many ways I could murder Zemo," Bucky commented, eyes darkening.

Steve sighed, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder, "Bucky, she said she could do this."

"It's not her I don't trust, Steve. Imagine your girl getting hit on and you couldn't do jack shit to stop it. How would you feel then?" Bucky seethed, taking a deep breath in. "Sorry, that was hostile."

With a shake of his head, Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "I understand, Bucky. But we have to get to the bottom of Zemo's plan, and he won't talk unless its to her."

The whole team sat in silence, now gathered in the meeting room. The only noise was the whirl of the fan above their heads as they watched the live footage of you standing in front of Zemo's cell.

"Zemo," You said, crossing your arms. "Being stubborn as always, I hear."

A crooked smile formed on the man's face as he leaned his head on the bars, as close to you as he could get. "Darling, I just did not wish to speak to such insolent people such as the Avengers," Zemo scowled as he spoke. "But a dove as sweet as you? How could I pass?"

Bucky felt his fists clench tightly as he watched the interaction. God, he just wanted to deck this guy straight in the nose. Ever since the Sokovian first went on the run, he always seemed to make some time mid-battle to try and make some small talk with you. It annoyed not only Bucky, but everyone. No one talks that much during a fight. However, now that he was captured, it was the perfect time to use his infatuation of you to the team's advantage.

"Tell me, what do you have planned with those," You paused, grabbing your file and flipping through the loose pages, "Ah, 'weapons of double mass extinction' as you so delicately put it."

Zemo laughed, "Extinction is not my end goal if that is what you are asking my dove."

"It wasn't," You added as Zemo continued.

"However, I am just so excited to reveal what they will be used for." He smiled. Your brow shot up, waiting for his answer. "But seeing it will be the best reveal of all."

Sam sighed, watching this all carry on from where the team was still sat. "He's just gonna play games with her."

"She's smarter than you'd think, give her a chance." Natasha said, "I'd know, I trained her."

Tony stood up, "I don't like this, I'm ending it."

Bucky held up his hand, nodding. "For once, I gotta agree with Stark. I want my girl out of his sight."

Quickly, Steve stood up, "This is our only chance to find out what Zemo has planned. He won't lay a finger on her. Is it uncomfortable? Of course it is, none of us enjoy watching him flirt with her, but it'll work." Tony sat down as Bucky grumbled, all eyes falling back to the screen that showed you now closer to Zemo's bars.

"Would your wife really enjoy knowing you're flirting with me?" You slightly taunted, wanting to push his buttons.

"My wife is dead, but you already know of this." Zemo replied.

With a knowing nod, you pursed your lips, "She was Sokovian too, yeah?"

"We were all from Sokovia, my wife and son, as well as myself." Zemo answered.

"Born and raised?" You continued. Zemo gave a nod as you thought for a moment with a hum, "Were you there when Ultron attacked?"

Zemo nodded, "Yes. That is when my family was murdered."

"I'm sorry," You honestly replied. "Does it still bother you? Not your dead family, but the Sokovia thing. You know, the floating?"

A quick glance of the situation, and it would've looked like you were now just chatting with the enemy, but you held down a smirk as Zemo replied. "Of course I am. That was my home."

"New York could be your home now," You offered. "Turn yourself in and we can get you transferred here."

Zemo laughed, "I would not wish to be here after what will happen."

Boom. You looked up to the camera, "You all got that?" You asked the camera, knowing your team was watching. You grabbed your file, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Zemo. This was very informative." You grabbed your comm and pushed it down, "Stand-by. Send Stark-Bots to check perimeters of the state. Zemo's planning on making us levitate like Sokovia."

Face pale, Zemo stood up, yelling incoherent words that fell upon your deaf ears as you left the room. Bucky, who had seen it all, was already waiting for you outside. He was quick to grab you and hold you tight to his chest.

"I'm okay, Buck," You smiled, voice muffled from your face being pushed against his strong body.

Bucky shook his head, "I know, I just don't want you near that freak again."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words as you pulled away enough to give him a kiss. "You jealous of Zemo?"

"You played into it," Bucky muttered.

"It was all fake, love." You replied. "You know I'm your girl."

Bucky couldn't help but smirk, "Damn right you are." He turned to the door that lead to Zemo's cell. "You hear that? She's my damn girl!"

You couldn't help but feel your heart thump at Bucky's words. He was always so damn hot when he was jealous. "C'mon, show your girl how much you love her." You teased, Bucky's eyes falling on you once more. He was quick to grab your waist with his metal arm, pulling you in as his other hand rested on the back of your neck, pushing your face against his as his lips locked with yours, a tight, sloppy kiss ensuing in the middle of the hall.

"I'm never letting you do that again." Bucky muttered, pulling away to speak. His breath was hot on your cheek as he spoke. He pulled you into another wet kiss as a soft ahem came from behind you both.

"This is not a room, but I'm sure your horny asses could find one."

Bucky groaned as he turned around, "Do you have to ruin every moment?" He asked Sam who stood smugly.

He put his hands in the air, "I just wanted to congratulate Nat's best student on her great work. Especially the one where she made her soldier get all jealous"

"Thank you, Sam," You smiled, a light blush on your face.

Bucky took a pen out of his pocket and threw it at Sam, "Get outta here, man!"

"Alright, alright! No need for hostility." Sam defended as he walked away.

As Sam left, you gave a knowing smile at Bucky. "So jealous over my mission, huh?"

Bucky scoffed, feeling embarrassment creep in his chest, "I wasn't jealous."

"I think you were," You argued. "Over Zemo of all peopke."

"Only I can talk to you that way," Bucky said, voice nearly a whine. "You're all mine, not his or anyone else's, and he knows it."

You smiled, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek, "And that's probably why he loves doing it so much. You know he's got a thing against super soldiers. He's gonna do anything to get under your skin."

"And he chose the worst way to do it," Bucky muttered as you pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

Bucky looked at you with a goofy smile, pulling back. "C'mon, doll. We still got some work to do cleaning up Zemo's mess."

"Someone's feeling better," You teased as you both began to walk. "You'd better show me some more of that jealousy later," You suggested.

"Oh, I will," Bucky smiled. "You bet your fine ass I will."

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[lewisvinga]

Dios mío! | toto wolff x latina! reader x susie wolff !

summary; in which the young single mother of one of jack’s friends catches the attention of toto and susie

warnings; age gap

word count; 1.05k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote

note; requested ! my fave dilf n milf tbh , my requests are CLOSED ATM!!!

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Santiago! Adónde vas?” [where are you going?]

Y/n sighed as she followed the tan, curly-haired boy who just laughed in response. She held onto her bag in one hand and his helmet in the other as she ran after him. She huffed as she noticed other parents stare at her chasing her son around the track.

“Santiago! Ya vas a ver.” [you’ll see]

Santiago finally stops in front of another boy with brown hair. He greeted the young boy and the two immediately started conversing about whatever they usually chatted about.

Y/n finally caught up to her son and was completely out of breath. She bent down and grabbed Santiago’s arm. “Santiago, what did we talk about?”

��Stay by Mamás side.” The curly-haired boy mumbled.

“Exacto!” [exactly]

“But I wanted to see my friend Jack!”

“I know you’re excited, papito, but that doesn’t mean you can run off on your own. I don’t want you getting lost.”

Y/n sighed as she stood back up, finally realizing that Santiago’s friend and his parents were in front of them. Her face started to heat up from embarrassment. She let out a nervous chuckle as she brushed off her jeans. “I’m so sorry about Santiago.”

She finally got to take a closer look at Jack’s parents. They both seemed older compared to Y/n who had Santiago as a teenager. Jack’s father was tall, way taller than her or his mother. He had black frames and a smirk adorning his face.

Jack’s mother was shorter but seemed to have a strong aura. Her hair was short and blonde. The smile she wore matched her husband's. Both combined emitted an aura that Y/n couldn’t help but feel attracted to.

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it.” The blonde exclaims with a laugh. “Jack always talks about him.”

“Where are my manners?” Y/n suddenly gasped as she flattened her baby hairs that escaped from her ponytail. She holds her hand out with a smile, “I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.”

Jack's mother flashes her a smile before quickly shaking her hand. “Susie.”

Her husband was quick to shake Y/n’s hand after, the smile still evident on his lips. “Toto Wolff. Your son seems amazing, Jack is always talking about his best friend Santiago.”

Y/n lets out a laugh as she gently pats Santiago’s dark curls. “He’s the only one I got here. My family is back home in Latin America, so I always try to raise my boy the best I can.”

Susie nods sympathetically before her head tilts to the side out of curiosity. “And his father? Does he help?”

Y/n let out a disappointed sigh. “Nope. It’s just me and Santi in this world.” She chuckled and shrugged, “It’s better off just us two.” Her confirmation that she was indeed single made the married couple share a glance.

They’ve seen her several times at Jack’s school before while picking up Santiago. They never got a clear look at her until right before one of Jack’s races where her son ran up to their son. She caught their attention immediately, especially with the way she seemed so careful of Santiago.

Toto and Susie had shared multiple knowing looks while the young mother was talking to her son just moments earlier. They were attracted to her no doubt.

“Mamá,” Santiago’s soft voice interrupted them. He stared at Toto with wide eyes. “He’s the team principal of Mercedes.” He thought he was whispering but in fact, he was talking really loud.

His failed attempt at whispering caused Toto to let out a deep laugh, his hand ruffling up the boys’ curls. “Indeed I am, Santiago.”

At the realization, Y/n let out a gasp. She wasn’t into Formula One but he son was. She often spent Sundays making carne asada and watching races with Santiago even if she wasn’t interested. She had only seen Toto and Susie on screen once or twice, but she failed to recognize them until her son mentioned it.

“My abuelo [grandpa] likes Mercedes! He says I'm gonna be like Lewis!” The young boy continued to rant as Y/n watched, furrowing up her eyebrows.

“Dios mío, [my God] I didn’t realize at all.” She sighed with wide eyes. She had an apologetic smile as her hands rested on her son's shoulders. “Sorry, didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Toto interrupted her, waving his hand around as he turned to Santiago. “When you’re old enough, tell your pretty mamá to give me a call, hm? Maybe you and Jack can be teammates.”

Ar the mention of being teammates with his best friend, Santiago let out a cheer as the youngest Wolff followed him in cheer. The sudden compliment caused Y/n’s cheeks to turn a light shade of pink.

“I-uh-,” She coughed to clear her throat, “We have to go. Gotta make sure Santiago is all prepared before the race, right?” She chuckled, watching the curly-haired boy chat away with Jack.

“Hey, Y/n, wait.” Susie quickly said before the young mother could leave. Y/n hums in response as the blonde glances at her husband and back at her. “Are you busy tonight?”

“After the race? No.” Y/n replied, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. “Was just gonna order takeout for Santi and me. Why?”

“Come over for dinner at ours.” Toto quickly offered. His offer made her raise her eyebrows in shock as their two sons looked up excitedly.

“A gorgeous lady like you shouldn’t be alone. Come by ours, yeah?” Susie said with a smile, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle as she nodded in agreement, keeping her eyes on Susie and Toto. “Y-yeah! That sounds amazing.“ She reached into her bag and found a pen and a random piece of paper. She scribbled her number down quickly before handing it to the blonde.

“Just call me. I’ll be there.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely call,” Toto said, another smirk appearing on his lips as he looked over Susie’s shoulder at the paper.

Y/n shared another smile with them before grabbing Santiago. The two quickly said goodbye before walking off to prepare the young boy for his race. In reality, she was also preparing herself for dinner with the attractive older couple she just met at her son's karting race. She mumbled to herself, “Ay Dios mío.” [oh my God]

[hotchner-edu]

Down We Go | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: Aaron takes you shopping and you both find yourselves in a predicament when you run into his team and they recognize you as Jack's friend. — part 3 of (one and two)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (r is over 22, Aaron is in his late 40's), fluff, best friend's father trope

"Not to alarm you or anything, honey, but you do realize how this looks to others, right?" You ask, voice tinged with unbridled amusement as you suppress a laugh.

Aaron blinks at you blankly, trying to figure out what you were talking about as the clerk shuffles away to bag up the necklace he was buying for you.

"Aaron, you look like my sugar daddy right now." You explain with a snicker, pinching his side as his eyes widen a bit.

"There's no way people are actually thinking that, right?" He asks almost incredulously as he glances around and curls his arm around your waist.

You shrug and lean into his side, "We're in the right age range for that to be an appropriate assumption." You joke quietly, not bothered by the lingering stares you could feel from other mall patrons.

"When did a man buying his girlfriend jewelry become a crime." He grumbles in false exasperation, thanking the clerk when she comes back and passes the gift bag over the glass display case.

You smile as he carries it for you, taking his hand as he leads you out of the store. "You tell me. You're the one that works with social taboos for a living, Mr. Unit Chief."

"You're going to be the death of me." He murmurs under his breath, a small smile accompanying his complaint.

"You love me." You grin cheekily and bump your hip against his as you both walk. "Now, let's go buy some more ties for you."

"What about that pretzel you wanted earlier?" His asks, already relenting to your sudden suggestion. He lets you drag him toward a multi-story department store at the end of the mall, the glossy floors and milling patrons drawing you both in.

"Forget about the pretzel, honey." You rush out, glancing back at him to see the familiar defeated smile on his face that you've grown accustomed to.

He gives a big sigh and tugs your hand back gently so he's walking closer to you again, pressing you against his side. "Don't think I'm not aware that you just want an excuse to see me wearing more ties."

"Aaron, if you were me, you'd understand this obsession that I harbor." You jokingly lament, looking down at your phone and scrolling past the very appropriately-timed flash of your lockscreen, a selfie (that you begged him to take) of him in his suit while he was on his lunch break.

Just as you both cross into the threshold of the department store, you hear a surprised call of Aaron's name. "Hotch?"

Both you and Aaron spin on your heels to see a small group of people staring at you both. Sifting through your memories, you quickly deduce that it was his BAU team, recognizing them from the various photos he's shown you.

"JJ... Hi." He says politely, nodding to the rest of his teammates who were now gawking at you. "Having a good weekend so far?"

The woman— JJ, nods and smiles faintly, eyes flitting to observe you for a millisecond. "Yes, we all decided to just walk around after grabbing brunch."

"So... gonna introduce us?" A man you recognized as Derek speaks up, sharing a look around the group.

Aaron pauses for a second before squeezing your waist reassuringly and clearing his throat. "Right... guys, this is Y/N. Honey, this is my team." He keeps the introduction short, clearly knowing they'd likely interrogate you anyway.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Y/N..." Derek mutters your name softly after greeting you, trying to get a feel for its familiarity. "Huh, you have the same name as Jack's friend." He says, pausing as the last syllable leaves his lips.

You see JJ and Emily cringe a bit at his cluelessness, clearly having realized who you were a bit before him. "Ah, yes, that's me." You answer sheepishly, smiling and meeting his gaze evenly.

Penelope, who you recognize from her colorful jewelry and joyful disposition, is quick to recover from her shock as she gasps and looks at you. “Oh my gosh, I love your shoes!”

“Oh, thank you!” You’re quick to accept the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I bought them a couple of weeks ago.”

“You’ll have to come shopping with us!” Penelope excitedly says, looking as though she was already planning out the entire trip in her head.

Emily nods warmly,. “Oh please do, I’m dying for a new dress. Even if we barely have the time to go out these days.” She jokes and rolls her eyes playfully.

“I would love to. Though I think Aaron will be the first to tell you that the last thing I need to do is more shopping.” You jest back, feeling Aaron’s hand rubbing your back slowly.

“Whatever makes you happy.” Aaron speaks up to defend himself, amusement decorating his tone as he tries to hide his little smile.

“So it’s settled then.” JJ chuckles, motioning for the group to start walking as to not create foot traffic.

Penelope flashes you a bright grin, starting to walk. "No wonder you declined for brunch, sir. But worry not, all is forgiven!"

You direct your attention back to Aaron and you frown a bit, feeling guilty for causing him to miss a team bonding day. "I thought you said you had no plans today, honey."

Aaron shakes his head gently and swiftly wraps his arm around your waist again. "I wanted to spend the day with you."

You eye him a bit with faux uncertainty before catching Derek's gaze.

“So… I have to ask. How did this happen?” Derek says, motioning between the both of you as he walks beside Aaron.

Aaron looks to you and lets you explain, knowing you always got a good kick out of telling the story. “Jack accidentally set us up together on a blind date.”

Derek’s eyebrows raise up and he huffs out a light chuckle, shaking his head. Spencer speaks up for the first time, eyebrows furrowed as he turns back a bit while he walks. “Accidentally?”

“Yeah, he had an elaborate plan to set me and Aaron up on different dates at different places, but he accidentally sent me the wrong address. And much to his absolute chagrin, we hit it off.” You elaborate with a lighthearted tone.

“He set you both up on dates on the same day?” Spencer clarifies, looking a bit befuddled.

“Between you and me, I think he just wanted some peace and quiet.” You joke, smiling when the group lets out small laughs.

Derek crosses his arms and glances at Aaron, eyes glinting in playfulness. “So this is why you’ve been all giddy these past few weeks?”

You snort, the mental image of your no-nonsense boyfriend suddenly being go-lucky at the office popping into your head. “Giddy?” You ask and raise an eyebrow at Aaron.

“I have not been giddy.” He deadpans, seemingly trying to inch away from the group with every passing second.

“Oh, no, you’ve been pretty cheerful, sir.” Penelope chimes in from in front of you.

“Yeah, I mean he’s even going back home at reasonable hours.” Emily says to you playfully.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d leave the office with work still on your desk.” Derek adds.

You chuckle and squeeze his hand. “Really now? He’s still putting on the workaholic facade around me. He told me that he's just been getting less paperwork lately. Good to know you’re whipped, honey.”

Aaron rolls his eyes fondly and just sighs in defeat. You have been trying to instill a sense of self-concern in Aaron, texting him almost every night to make sure he got home before midnight.

You end up walking around with his team for almost an hour, swapping stories about Aaron and getting to know them. By the time you all decide to part ways, you've gotten the girls' numbers and been put into a groupchat with them.

"I'd say that went well." You muse happily and walk with Aaron to his car. "I was nervous they wouldn't be super receptive of the relationship. I was certain Derek would throw in a few quips about you being a cradle robber."

"Oh don't worry, Dave's already got that base covered." Aaron sighs to veil his fondness.

"A little office banter can't hurt." You tease, knowing about his bond with the older agent. "And I can't believe you really almost fought that death-row convict! With your bare hands, too!" You say suddenly, recalling Spencer's little anecdote.

He exhales through his nose as he can feel the carefully crafted line between his work life and his personal life blurring. "He was intending to kill me and Reid."

"Well, I'm happy that you're always ready to defend yourself." You reassure him, grinning when he gazes at you softly. "I feel like I learned so much about you today."

"I don't want to indulge too much into my work." He says quietly, leaving no room for question. "It's not something you have to hear."

"But it's a huge part of your life. I don't need all the grisly details, of course. I just want you to be able to talk to me when you've had a hard case... when you're not feeling great about something that happened on the field." You supply with a gentle tone.

Aaron stays quiet for a moment and you take the chance to continue. "You don't have to hold your burdens in, Aaron. You've always stayed strong for everyone around you, so lean on me."

When you both get to his car, he gently guides you to face him, trapping you between the passenger door and his body. He leans to kiss your forehead as an adoring look ripples across his expression. "Thank you, sweetheart." He whispers against your skin and brushes his thumb across your cheek.

"Just doing what I can." You speak quietly, rubbing his sides a bit.

"Will you stay tonight? At my house." He requests with a tender look in his eyes. Even if you wanted to decline, the vulnerable expression painted across his face is enough to have your heart swelling with affection.

You nod and pull him in for a chaste kiss. "Of course."

When you and Aaron make it back to the Hotchner residence, you're immediately greeted by Jack's narrowed eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I just missed you too much." You say with sarcastic longing, opening your arms for him.

His face twists in playful disgust and he tosses a pillow at you. "Ew, what the hell."

"Kidding. I'm staying the night." You explain with a light chuckle as you duck away from the pillow.

The soft object hits Aaron's chest and he shakes his head, dropping a kiss to your temple and placing the pillow back on the couch before walking up the stairs. "I'll be in the shower, honey."

"What's that?" Jack asks, stuffing some popcorn into his mouth as he pauses the show playing on the tv.

You hold up the small bag in your hand and walk toward him. "This?"

"Yeah, what'd you get?"

You pull out the tissue paper and hand him the small jewelry box. "Aaron bought me a necklace."

"Please don't tell me you're his sugar baby now. That's my inheritance you're messing with, you know." Jack huffs, looking at the necklace with interest.

You joke and take the box back. "Oh don't worry, you're already off the will."

part 4 here

[thoutisashark]

Accidental Courtship :3

Accidental courtship

ft: Savanaclaw, Octavinella

cw: possible minor spelling errors (blame the dyslexia), established relationship, swearing, implied fem reader

Penguins have this adorable courtship ritual where the male gives the female a smooth pebble, if the female is impressed by the pebble she accepts the gift and mates with the male

I know that jade, Floyd, and Azul aren't penguins, but i thought it would be so cute if their s/o gave them a pebble and basically proposed but not knowing what it meant.

And for the beast-men (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) i thought it would be cute if there was a special beast-men way of courtship, I couldn't think of anything though, but then i remembered that for a lot of mammals (and animals in general) grooming is a form of bonding, so what if licking was a form of courtship?!?!

ENJOY

Savanaclaw

Leona: he awoke from his nap when he felt a pair of hands running through his hair, he sniffed the air, realizing it was just his s/o he closed his eyes once again, surrendering to the comforting feeling of your hands, he hated to admit it but he loved when you played with his hair, it was something he looked forward to and expected. what he didn't expect however was the sudden wet feeling that graced his cheek his eyes shot open and his head snapped in your direction

"so soon? at least wait till we graduate"

your so confused, he realizes that you probably dont know what you just did

"for beast-men, your lick was you asking me to marry you you dumb herbivore"

he wont admit it but his heart was pounding in his chest

Jack: he had finished his classes for the day and was walking around the campus grounds, when he spotted you his tail started to wag a bit, he attempted to stop, annoyed that he was giving away how he felt. he walked over to you, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him you smiled up at him, kissing his cheek, he smiled at you and walked with you to the ramshackle dorm, you guys sat in the guest room you had been working on you had been pretty bored all day and wanted to do something to make you laugh, why not lick your boyfriend see what his silly reaction would be, little did you know the implications behind this supposedly innocent action. as soon as your tongue brushed his cheek he was off to sofa and staring at you in shock, he moved so fast that your tongue was still hanging out of you mouth

"i-im not ready"

his voice was shaky and his tail was wagging at a super sonic spread

"i mean you need to meet my parents and my siblings, and i dont have any money, i mean were still in high school, marriage is a very large leap"

you were so fucking confused Marriage? when you asked what he was talking about he looked at you confused

"you licked me... you want to marry me...right?"

you blushed and told him that in your world its just a weird thing to do. he sighed in

"so no marriage then, good, i love you but im not ready for that yet... try again in a few years"

he winked, his tail giving away his feelings

Ruggie: you had gotten some powdered donuts from Sam's store earlier and you were super excited to eat them, you rushed to your dorm hoping to avoid the food thief you called a boyfriend but it was useless, he could probly smell them from 3 miles away, he saw you running smelt the sweet scent of donuts and took off after you, he caught up quickly, snatching the box from you hands

"watcha got here shihihi"

he held the box out of your reach and took a donut out, he quickly shoved it into his mouth as you pouted, you loved him to death but god was he annoying sometimes you noticed how he had gotten some of the powdered sugar on his nose and an idea of revenge sprung into your mind, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to you

"you gonna kiss me~" he teased you, he wrapped an arm around you resting a hand on the small of your back while his other held the donut box.

you licked his nose, he tensed up, his eyes widened and he stumbled back almost falling over

"i-i dont- i mean-" he turned around, he grabbed his ears and pressed them down, trying to calm himself down, he had never felt so flustered before, but could you blame him? his s/o just asked for his hand in marriage "i accept but... so soon?"

you looked at him confused, he took a moment, realizing that what is a marriage proposal for beast-men might not be the same for humans, but everyone was aware of the tradition, then it clicked, you weren't from here, you had no idea what you had just done. his blush was still there, and to be honest he was dissipated, he licked you cheek "that is a proposal for marriage" he admits, looking away embarrassed, he shoved the donut box back into your hands and quickly walked away mumbling a quick "i love you" his tail was small, but it was wagging as he zoomed away from you.

Octavinelle (penguin esc courtship)

Floyd: he hated working at the cafe, it was so boring, why would he work when he could be with his little shrimpy? he found you outside of the ramshackle dorm, you were on your hands and knees digging round a pile of rocks

"shrimpy~" he lifted you up and hugged you from behind "what are you doing?"

he asked, examining the rocks you held in your hands, you didn't answer, instead you picked on of the rocks you had and handed it to him, it was smooth, and had a faint blue undertone to it, he squealed and snatched it out of your hand, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you till you felt like you were about to burst, he kissed you passionately before skipping off to tell his brother and Azul, you just stood there, confused as to why your boyfriend was so happy about the rock you gave him, i mean sure it was cool but was it that exciting for him? a couple hours later there was a knock on the door to the ramshackle dorm, you opened the door and say Floyd standing there frowning slightly

"do you know what a rock means"

you shook your head and you swear it looked like he was about to cry

"so you weren't asking me to marry you?"

you shook your head again, now understanding why he was so upset, you hugged him and kissed his cheek promising him to marry him one day, as soon as he heard that he was happy again, hugging and squeezing you all night long.

Jade: he was observing the mushroom he was growing, they had a strange mutation that he hadn't seen before and was eager to study, he was writing down the differences and comparing them to known mutations when suddenly you burst into his room clenching something in your hand, he turned to you smiling at you, he closed his mushroom guide and walked over to you, kissing your forehead and ruffling your hair, you hold out your hand and show a small smooth rock to him, he blushed, hugging you tightly

"are you aware of what your asking me?" he asked, his voice shacking lightly as he hugged you tighter, part of him wished you meant what mer-people mean when they give rocks, but he knows you arent used to the tradtions and culture in this world

he pulled away slightly and when he saw your confused face he smiled sadly "in merfolk culture you asked me to marry you" he chuckled as you blushed "i want to be the one to give you the rock dear" he mumbled into your hair he pulled away caressing your face before picking you up and taking you to the couch to cuddle.

Azul: he was in his office doing paper work and for the cafe, he was stressed, his hand was starting to cramp from the amout of writing he had been doing. the door to his office opened and you entered, his eyes lit up as he say you, your presence always made him feel better.

"hello my love"

he smiled at you softly, he open his arms for a hug and you wasted no time crawling into his lap and hugging him tightly, he kissed your shoulder, you reached into your pocket and handed him a pretty rock you had found earlier, his faced flushed with a blush

"m-my love? i- i mean y-yes ill marry you, but at least meat my family first, do you have a venue in mind? a dress? i can help you look- wait your not proposing? oh... you dont know do you"

as disappointed as he was that he wasn't going to marry you he chuckled and laughed

"my beloved your little rock was a proposal of marriage"

he smirked at you, watching as you face as you realized what you had done, he kissed you shoulder and cheek again

"just know love.... i will say yes, i will always say yes to you"

a couple days later when you walk into his office you she the rock you gave him on the shelf behind his desk, it was in a glass container, when you asked Azul all he said was

"its special to me, i wish to keep it forever"

End notes:

i had no idea what to do for leona and i think its pretty obvious, but i had fun writing this! its my first time writing for twst characters and i think i did ok... i hope

I am accepting requests :)

[bluewxrld07]

Kiss Cam (Luke Hughes)

Luke Hughes x female!reader

Warning(s): slight makeup sesh, angst, major fluff, touching without consent, alludes to smut

Summary:In which Luke lets his anger get the best of him.

“Mom I love you, but I have to finish getting ready for the game. We can talk more about it tomorrow.” Y/n sighs, applying mascara to her lashes. 

Her phone was on the bathroom counter with mom on speaker phone, mom currently blabbing about something that happened at work that she needed to rant over. “Oh, that’s right there’s a game tonight! Tell Luke and Jack goodluck for me, and I’ll let you go then. Love you!” Her mom’s sweet voice rings in.

Y/n responds back before ending the call, her music coming back on while she used her setting spray to set the rest of her face. 

Luke walks into the bathroom behind her a few moments later, setting his sweatshirt on the counter next to her puffer vest for her to wear. He stops and looks her up and down with a slight smirk on his lips. 

She wasn’t fully finished getting dressed, only wearing her flare leather pants and a bralette to prevent getting makeup on his clothes. Not that he would’ve minded that anyway, but he wasn’t going to complain about her current outfit. 

“What?” She chuckles putting her makeup away when catching his stare in the mirror. His eyes find hers as he walks up behind her with a hum, placing his hands around the front of her waist slowly trailing back and down to grab her ass. 

She squeaks at his hands, letting a laugh leave her mouth while his own kisses her collarbone a few times. “I like these pants.”

“Oh you do, do you?” an amused grin on her face. He hums with a nod. “Very much yes. You need to buy more.” 

Her eyes roll at his comment before she turns around in his grasp, his hands still going down to her ass when she faces him. Luke looks down at her, taking in the beauty of his girlfriend. She looks down at his lip before lifting herself up a little to place what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. 

Luke thought otherwise, humming out a no on her lips to prevent her from breaking away. She giggles at his comment, letting her hands trail up his chest and to the back of his neck and into his curls. 

Their lips moving in sync, his tongue finding hers as his hands roam her body. His touches and kisses making her whimper and moan into his mouth. 

His hands began to trail from her ass, up to her hips, then to her waist, until they were gripping her breasts. Luke letting his thumb graze over her nipples through the thin fabric. 

She breathes out a moan, her head falling back as he plays with them and his lips moving down to her jaw. “Lu,” she pants.

“Hm?”

“We are gonna be late.” She lets out another whimper when he bites down on her sweet spot just in the crevice of the crook of her neck. Y/n musters up the strength to grab his head from her neck, making him look up at her. 

His lips now swollen, eyes looking a little glazed over as he gives her a lovesick grin. She places one last soft kiss on his mouth before turning back around to grab his sweatshirt off the counter, putting it over her head.

"Why don't you just wear my jersey again?" he asks as he steps away to watch her in the mirror.

"Because I need to switch it up every so often," she says in a 'duh' tone. "Either way people will know I'm yours if that's your problem with it." she chuckles, watching him roll his eyes.

"Okay yes, but still. You can see my name on it in bigger letters than you can on my sweatshirt."

"The sweatshirt I'm wearing is a player only sweatshirt. Therefore nobody else but players own it, so I think that's pretty self-explanatory." she assures him as she sees his pout begin to form.

Once she puts the vest over her shoulders, she turns around to wrap her arms around his neck. He grabs her waist immediately, looking down at her with a knowing look. "You may be beautiful, but you're sometimes not the brightest." he jokes, earning a slap to the chest as she walks away after his comment. She slips on her heeled boots in the entryway while he slides on his dress shoes.

"Forensic Scientist means dumb to you? I don't think so baby." she shoots back, the boy just shaking his head with a playful scoff.

"Whatever you say, honey. Let's go," he sighs before tapping her bum as she opens the front door.

Once they arrived to the arena, Y/n says her 'hello's to the other players, and Jack of course, then gives Luke his good luck kiss before making her way to the lower bowl to find her seat.

She sets her food and drink down when she finds it, seeing she's in the second row from the glass and gets comfy as she waited for the game to start. Y/n watched as more and more fans began to pile in, some starting to take up spots around the ice to watch warmups.

The warmups probably had to be her favorite part. Getting to see the boys rev up for the game as well as interacting with fans, the younger kids especially. She sometimes would find herself overhearing conversations of parents with their little ones talking about how they will try hard to get puck from a player for them.

So some days she took matters into her own hands, signaled Luke, Jack or one of the other players she knew well to bring her a couple pucks to hand out to the little kiddos. The smiles and reactions on their faces always made her smile too, which is why she loved stepping in to help sometimes.

Before she knew it, the boys were out on the ice doing their routine, kids and other fans buzzing with excitement as they watched the players skate around the ice.

She smiles widely when she sees Luke spot her, the boy giving her a little wink as he stood at the blue line with Dawson. Her little moment with Luke was soon cut short when someone took their seat next to her and settled in, his stare never leaving her side profile.

Y/n slowly turned to look at the Devils fan, the boy looking around the same age as her. He had darker hair that poked out of his backwards hat, bright hazel eyes, chiseled jaw with a little stubble. He supported a Devils Jersey with an 86 on the back of it. He nods at her before speaking.

"Hey," he starts off. She smiles warmly. "Hello." she says before turning back to watching warmups.

Luke was busy doing his routine to notice the boy sitting next to his girlfriend, y/n adjusting herself due to feeling uncomfortable by his stare.

"I'm Micah." he introduces, y/n turning her head back to him with a smaller smile this time. "Nice to meet you Micah." she says in a soft voice, hoping that it sounded both nice and uninterested.

Micah leans towards her a little, making her smile falter a bit and look back at the boys on the ice for a minute. "And you are..?" he trails off, making her insides churn at his desperation.

"Um, I'm y/n," she says in a shorter tone. He nods with a toothy smile.

"Beautiful name for an absolutely gorgeous girl." he says, making her internally roll her eyes. She just nods at him and offers another warm smile. "Thank you."

She watches as he looks her up and down slowly, slowly biting his lip as his eyes find hers. "So what's a girl like you doing sitting here all by herself?" he asks.

"Oh, I'm not alone I'm-"

"It's okay, you don't have to lie and say your friends are coming. I'll take care of you," he winks at her, and places a hand on her thigh with a squeeze. He was making her stomach knot. "Please take your hand off my leg," she says firmly. She feels herself relax when his hand leaves her thigh, her chest feeling tight as he sat closer to her.

Instead of pushing the conversation she purses her lips and looks back at the boys on the ice, hoping to find her boyfriend and her muscles relax when she sees he's already staring at her.

Now many fans that paid attention to the Hughes brothers knew she and Luke were dating. It wasn't like they made it obvious, but they also weren't hiding it either.

His eyes going back between her and the guy next to her with a darker stare than she's used to. He can tell she's uncomfortable when his eyes find hers a second later, and skates closer towards where she's sitting.

Y/n watches as he skates past and gives her a small nod as if asking if she was okay, and nods back at him with a small smile on her lips.

Luke nods back one more time at her before turning back to finish his drills, his head turning back to stare at the guy sitting next to her one last time.

Y/n was happy the guy known as Micah let her be after that, hoping that he noticed she was uninterested and very much taken.

The lights dimmed as the boys left the ice, y/n sitting back in her chair and going onto her phone. Her phone soon buzzed as she began scrolling through Twitter, seeing it was a text from Luke.

from Lu <3

Do you want me to bring you one of my jerseys?

to Lu <3

I'll be okay. I can stand my ground, I promise

from Lu <3

Baby I really think you should take one of my jerseys

to Lu <3

Lu I will look like every other fan who has one here still. It wouldn't matter if I was wearing it or not.

read 6:36pm

Y/n rolled her eyes at his actions and no response, knowing he was frustrated by the situation at hand. She wouldn't be able to convince him any other way, him being the stubborn boy he was.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he just liked having people know she was his and his only. She would never stop that either, but she just wanted him to understand she can handle situations on her own most times.

Before she knew it, the game had started and that's also when Micah's voice started. He kept trying to talk to her more, explaining the game to her as if she had no idea what was going on. She wanted to move so badly, but knew that that wasn't going to happen.

Y/n just tried her best to act as uninterested as possible to his conversation, the boy obviously not getting the point as time went on.

It also appeared that Luke was getting more and more irritated by Micah's advances.

Y/n often caught him skating by their area and looking directly at the pair sitting next to one another, his expression each time darker and more pissed off than the last.

The one that caught her attention was when Luke looked directly at her, shook his head, rolled his eyes and made a swatting motion at her. It deeply annoyed her that he was getting mad at her when she was making it very clear she wanted nothing to do with the man next to her.

"That call right there is known as icing," Micah begins, leaning towards her and pushing a piece of her hair back. Y/n biting her lip and running a hand through her hair as he keeps his hand on her cheek. "It happens when-"

"Okay look. Micah, is it? Can you please stop explaining the game to me as if I don't get what's going on? I used to play myself, and have a boyfriend who plays it as well. So please just -- stop talking, and stop touching me." Y/n snaps, her facial expressions towards the boy looking like she was ready to bang her head against the wall.

Micah looked stunned for a few seconds, before he smirks and rolls his eyes with a scoff. "If you had a boyfriend, where is he at then?"

Of course that was the only thing he paid attention to. She scoffs at him and looks back to the game.

There was an intermission in between whistles, the ice crew coming to shovel off the ice. Y/n looks up and watches as a kiss cam comes on, happy couples one after the other doing funny or cute kisses.

She looks down at her phone while it goes, not really wanting to be at the game anymore with her boyfriend annoyed at her, and her being annoyed with the guy next to her.

That was until Micah was elbowing her a moment later, the girl looking at him with a scowl evident on her face and he smirks smugly while pointing to the screen. She looks up, and immediately wants to sink into a hole.

Micah and her were on the kiss cam screen.

Micah looks back at her and shrugs. "it's for the views," he says, and she shook her head.

Y/n looks up at the Jumbotron, doing a 'cut' signal with her hand while saying that Micah is not her boyfriend. She began to hold up her sweatshirt, pointing to the number 43 on the arm saying 'boyfriend'.

But before she could finish saying 'boyfriend' Micah tries grabbing her face in a bruising and harsh grasp to pull her in for a kiss. Y/n immediately pushes him away and smacks him hard across the face.

Before she can cuss him out, she hears a loud bang against the glass followed by yells and many fans gasping in shock. Y/n turns to the ice and sees Luke yelling at Micah with Jack and Nico holding him back as if Luke was about ready to break the glass to get to her.

"Get your fucking hands off my girl!" he screams at him. "You grab her like that again and I'll fuck you up, you got that! Get the fuck off of her!! Don't you dare touch her!" Luke continues to yell and cuss as the boys pull him back to the bench.

Luke looks at Y/n and points at her after. "That's why I fucking told you to wear my jersey dammit!" he yells to her, making her stomach drop to her ass out of embarrassment.

Her mouth drops at his reaction, seeing him yell to her once again. "Never fucking listens to me!"

Micah sitting there both in awe and shock by both getting cussed at by Luke Hughes and being smacked by the girl next to him.

Y/n is pushing her way past Micah who is still sitting there dumbfounded, some fans making comments to him saying how shitty it was for him to do what he did.

Y/n kept her head down as she climbed up the stairs, tears in her eyes. One of the security guards she knew very well immediately made her way up to her and pulled her into her arms as they walked.

"Let's get you out of the public eye, hm? Get you down into the tunnel?" she suggest, Y/n nods quietly as she wipes a tear.

When she makes her way to the tunnel she hears the buzzer, signaling the end of the second period. She tells the security guard to grab Jack for her as he walks back to the locker room, the older woman nodding before making her way down the hall.

As she waits for Jack, she manages to take in what just happened.

Micah tried forcing himself on her. Luke cussed him out and almost broke the glass to go after him. Luke yelled at her.

Luke embarrassed her.

Y/n didn't even realize she had tears falling until she saw them fall onto her boots.

"Y/n?" she hears, her head shooting up to see Jack making his way to her with concern on his face. He had his helmet off, stick still in his hand as he approached her.

"Hey," he said as he got to her, pulling her in for a hug first. She hugged him back tightly, sniffling into his shoulder. "You okay?"

She just shook her head as they pulled away. "I've never heard him talk to me like that. Ever. I'm so humiliated." she admits, shaking her head as she wipes her tears.

Jack looks at her with guilt and frustration. "I'm sorry I had no idea he would react like that," he says. "We knew he was bothered by the guy next to you because he wouldn't stop talking about it. But he kept assuring and saying he trusted you to take care of it. Of yourself. He kept saying he knew you could handle it. Next thing we knew he was jumping over the boards and skating towards where you sat. And then you can guess what happened next." he explains, making her nod.

"I just didn't think he would ever talk to me like that." she says in a whisper. "I didn't even know that that guy would grab my face like that." she stutters, letting out a choked sob.

"I should've just listened to Luke and wore his jersey." Y/n says, watching as Jack shook his head. "No don't say what you know would make my brother feel better. He's a piece of shit and a dickbag for saying and reacting how he did. You couldn't have known." Jack assures her, pulling her in for another hug, holding her for longer.

She sniffles and stays silent, Jack pulling away from her as he hears Dawson calling out to him signaling they're going back out in a few.

"I don't want to talk to him for a bit. But I can't go back out there. I don't even think I can show my face out there at all." Y/n explains, Jack nods in understanding.

"I'll make sure he steers clear of you for right now. I'll also be the last one out of the locker room, so I will let one of the trainers know to come grab you to get my keys. You can drive it back to the apartment." he says, making her shake her head and cross her arms.

"Jack are you sure? I can't take your car."

"Y/n/n yes you can. We live in the same complex. Worst case I can always catch a ride with one of the other boys if Luke is still being an ass, so I will be able to get home either way." Jack assures her, the girl contemplating for a minute, then nodding in agreement to his statement.

He kisses her forehead before heading back to the locker rooms, Y/n pulling herself together as she waits silently for one of the trainers. She sees and hears the guys cheering as they head out for the last period, music blaring in the stadium.

She spots one of the trainers walking towards her with a sweet smile, motioning for her to follow behind them to the locker room.

When they get to the entryway, the trainer stops and points to Jack's locker stall. "He said it should be in his suit jacket pocket on the left side." the trainer tells her, y/n nodding as she feels his keys.

As she was about to walk out of the locker room the trainer stops her once more. "Luke also told me to tell you that you can take his key. Since he knows you don't normally bring yours when you drive with him to games." they explain, Y/n feeling her heart clench at his name.

She slowly nods and walks over to her boyfriend's stall and grabbing his apartment key before following the trainer out and towards the garage.

She smiles softly at the trainer before thanking them, then unlocks Jack's car and gets inside.

On the drive home the car is silent, nothing being heard but the rain on the windshield. The radio off due to her not wanting to hear a single thing as she drove home.

The embarrassment she felt from the night was starting to creep up on her, making her just want to crawl up into a ball and live there for the rest of her life.

The facial expression she saw on his face was something she only ever saw when it came to him getting pissed off at another player in the ice, or when he was arguing with Jack. Never did she see it directed towards her. It made her insides burn, her chest feeling tight.

Most of all Y/n felt violated. She had never been grabbed or touched like that, and it scared her that a man would've been desperate enough in a situation to make a move like that guy did.

She let out a sigh as she parked Jack's car in his parking spot in the parking garage, locking it as she made her way up to her and Luke's shared apartment. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, keeping her head low as she made her way through the hallways.

When she saw her familiar doormat outside her apartment, Y/n felt her exhaustion hit. As she unlocked the door, she could hear the patters of the raindrops hitting the windows. The apartment only being illuminated by her golden sunset light in the living room, window cracked open to hear the thunder outside.

She shut the door, and took off her shoes. The tired girl's feet padded down the hall to their shared bedroom, going and taking a seat on their bed as she took a deep breath.

Her phone was buzzing, causing her to turn it over and see what it was.

Luke Hughes loses it over guy in the crowd!

Breaking: New Jersey Devils player, Luke Hughes, almost breaks glass to fight man in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend!

Devils player Luke Hughes screams at fan in stands after putting hands on Hughes' girlfriend. Soon starts screaming at girlfriend shortly after, causing absolute mayhem in the stands!

After seeing each title and tweet get worse and worse, she immediately puts her phone on Do Not Disturb and puts it face down on the nightstand.

Y/n began taking off her outfit, grabbing pjs and a towel before heading into the bathroom.

Y/n turned on the shower, loving how the warmth felt on her skin and closed her eyes as she stepped in.

Usually she had always taken a post game shower with Luke when they'd gotten home, but she couldn't even fathom to want to be in the same room as him after his outburst.

Sure she understood the one towards Micah, but she still thought she didn't deserve to get the backend of it too.

Y/n also knew that he probably felt like shit after how he acted, and was probably getting an absolute earful from the entire team, the coaches included.

She let the water soak up her scalp, taking a few deep breaths as she stood there. She didn't even know where her head was at. She was still so shocked of the events tonight, but also craved to have Luke holding her. Telling her she would be okay, and that he never meant any of it.

Y/n jumps and gasps when she feel hands slither around her waist, but relaxing when a familiar head of curls is seen in her side view as he hid his face in her neck for a few moments.

The girl fought with herself, wondering if she should just let it happen or push him away, not knowing which would be the better option.

That was until he propped his chin on her shoulder, sniffling a couple times. She stood there tense, staying quiet for a few moments.

"I don't even know where to start," he says, his voice rough. He squeezes her waist, her hands still staying crossed at her chest.

"Well I do know where to start. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, Y/n. I have no excuses for the way I spoke to you. You were trying to get him off you, and were clearly uninterested in general. Guy couldn't take a fucking hint," he chuckles bitterly. "In the end, I should not have yelled or screamed at you. You didn't deserve any of that. I can't imagine how embarrassed you felt after that. That's all completely my fault, I couldn't control myself after seeing how uncomfy he kept making you." he sniffles and pauses to press a kiss on her temple.

"I really can't believe I lost it on you. I have no regrets for losing it on that guy, but losing my shit on you I have every regret in the world. I would absolutely go back in time and prevent myself from doing that to you. Without a second thought." he finishes. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I am a dick, and I truly don't expect you to forgive me easily. I embarrassed you, and made it so hard for you to walk back into that arena without wanting to curl up in a ball. If you don't come to some my games for a bit, I get it. I don't blame you."

It's quiet for a few moments after that, Y/n taking that as Luke's speech being finished. She sighs and lets her body relax fully into his own, letting her hands trail down to where his hands are on her waist and wrap hers around his wrists softly.

She caresses the top of his hands with her thumbs. "You're a fucking asshole you know that?" she whispers, shaking her head as she looks down at their hands.

He nods against her shoulder. "More than an asshole honestly." he chuckles, making her muster up the smallest grin.

"You embarrassed me. You humiliated me in front of the entire arena, Luke," she starts. "I wouldn't have been as mad if it were just towards that guy. Yeah I still would've been annoyed, but it was when you started going after me. As if I had been letting it happen." she explains, Luke letting her speak.

"I tried everything in my power to make it known I was uninterested. I tried everything to make it known I didn't want him talking to me. I tried Lu," she says, her voice sounding defeated the last few words.

Luke just nods, saying he knows repeatedly. "Especially when he kept putting his hands on me, I kept telling him to stop and I kept saying no." Y/n says, her voice weak as her lips began to quiver. Luke pulls her in tighter, his heart aching and his anger rising at the guy. He had no right to touch her, and especially when she kept telling him to not touch her.

Luke couldn't imagine what was going through her head during then. It made him feel even worse after hearing how defeated she. sounded.

"Then when he grabbed my face, I felt so violated. Like I couldn't even win even when I kept saying no," she sniffled. "Then when you yelled at me like that, it made me feel like you didn't even care that I was trying my hardest to not let him touch me. When it was so clear I didn't want him to."

Luke raised his head from her shoulder, placing his hands on her hips to turn her so she was facing him. "Look at me." he says softly to her, seeing as she shook her head and kept it staring down at her hands.

He watched as she began to nervously pick ta her fingertips, something she did from anxiety, which made his hands leave her sides and lace his fingers between him own to prevent her from doing so.

"Y/n, baby, look at me." he says, his voice softer than the first time. Y/n mustered the strength to look into his eyes for the first time that evening, seeing his were incredibly bloodshot and swollen.

"Oh Lu," she sighs as she sees his face. He shook his head. "Don't worry about me." he says. "I want you to know that no matter what, I will always care for you. Even when it's so much it seems annoying, I will still be there by your side protecting and caring about you. I care more about you than I do myself." he assures her, making her lips quiver.

"You need to care about yourself too, Luke. Don't beat yourself up when you can't help me with a situation. You have to trust that I can handle it most times on my own." she explains, Luke nodding in agreement with her.

"I get that you were mad and that you were wanting to do anything you could to get to me in that moment, but taking it out on me when you know I'm trying is not the way to go."

Luke puts his head down, nodding once more. "I know. And I'm never going to stop apologizing to you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take it all back. I'm so sorry, Y/n/n."

She puts her hands on his cheeks. "I know. But you can't take it back, no matter how much to wish you could. Just learn from it, and move forward. Yeah this was a major bump we will work on fixing, but that is the thing. It's not just going to be you, it's gonna be us." she assures him, watching his eyes find hers again.

"You won't be going through this alone. Yeah I'm hurt. Yeah I'm embarrassed. But that's not gonna stop me from loving you and helping you. We will work on it together, okay?" Y/n caresses his cheeks, watching as he nods.

"I love you. So much. So so much, Y/n. I'm so sorry."

Y/n gives him a smile and nods, leaning her forehead against his own. "I love you too, baby. I know."

He presses his lips on her own cautiously, Y/n feeling his actions. In which she lets her hands find the back of his head and pull him closer to her to make their kiss more passionate.

He hums as their lips move in sync, letting her lead it as he wraps his arms around her figure.

Luke breaks the kiss after a few moments. "Let me start making it up to you right now, yeah?" he pants, and she nods.

"I'm all yours."

That's all Luke needs to hear before he begins his apology to her. Showing her how sorry he is in many different ways.

[rumplereids]

Stop bc I’ve had a little brainworm lately. Hotch’s really young ex wife bringing the kid(s) to Aaron bc he was late for a drop off or something and Spencer absolutely falling for her ⁉️⁉️ it’s been eating me alive (love your work mwah mwah)

part two tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. not really infidelity. p in v smut. a/n: anon, you are crazy. i love that for us. (thank u for reading my work ilysm) i hope u like this, even if it's just short :) requests are open!

He feels like he’s going insane. Scratch that. He’s actually insane.

He’s sequestered himself in the men’s restroom, tugging on his cock, biting the sleeves of his sweater so that he won’t make a noise, all because you smiled at him.

His boss’ wife. His boss’ young ex-wife.

Distinction is important in his line of business.

Spencer would love to blame you for putting him into this predicament, but that would be pointless.

It’s been a week since he last saw you. Since you last dropped Jack off at the BAU. Ever since your divorce with Aaron (the team didn’t even know he was married), you would show up to the office on their slower days to drop Jack off for the weekend.

Spencer doesn’t know much about you, only that you were once Jack’s nanny. You’ve been working for Aaron since Haley, Aaron’s ex-fiancee and Jack’s birth mom, decided that she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet.

Aaron once confided in him. You married Hotch when Jack was barely 3. You’ve always been ‘mom’ to the little boy. Aaron regrets marrying you so hastily.

You were around Spencer’s age. The fights leading up to your divorce started and ended with Aaron’s guilt for holding you back. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to care about your marital disputes since it led to him knowing you.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. White cum making his fingers sticky. Tucking himself back into his pants, he unlocks the bathroom stall with a cough, as if to hide the depravity that just took place. He quickly washes his hands, thrice. And then he leaves the men’s room, nearly running into a body in his haste.

Strong hands steady exposed shoulders. The skin under his warm hands, soft and smooth. It was you. He had just finished touching himself to the thought of you, and here you are now. Served to him on a golden platter.

“Hi, Spencer. I was just on my way out.”

“Did you talk to Hotch?”

You look up at him with a quizzical brow. He gulps down the thoughts looking into your eyes brought to his brain.

“Not really, no. I’m just here to drop Jack off for the weekend.”

He nods, and then you start to leave. He hesitates for a while, begging for the words to leave his tongue on their own. You beat him to the punch.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free this weekend?”

You fill his hands so perfectly. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts. Everywhere he cups and squeezes, as his hips smack thunderously against the flesh of your arse. You have your cheek pressed onto the mattress, taking everything that Spencer gave you. His cum, his sighs, his praise. The way he moans and mumbles your name like a prayer.

He’s your ex-husband’s co-worker. You swear you’ve read a cheesy erotica of this plot somewhere.

But that didn’t stop you from pulling him into your bedroom. Practiced hands undoing his dark blue tie. His longer fingers lifting the skirt of your sundress.

“You’re so good. You fuck me so good,” you can’t help but moan.

Spencer’s hand runs up and down your back, taking your hair and tightening a fist against your nape.

“You take me so well,” his following praise gets cut off by your phone ringing. Spencer slows his thrusts, hips moving until you’ve taken him to the base, and he continues his ministrations in tiny grinds of his pelvic bone against your clit. Your mind goes hazy at each tantalizing grind of his hips.

Your phone continues to ring. You blindly stretch out an arm to grab for it. Without looking at the caller ID, you answer the call. “Hello?”

Spencer watches from above you, watches you move your cheek and tilt your head so that you can make eye contact.

“Aaron?” you say with an almost whimper.

Spencer continues the grind of his hips against your wet and throbbing clit.

“Yeah, I can get Jack. Twenty minutes?”

Spencer almost hisses at the thought of the inevitable.

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

You hang up the call. Before the phone lands on your pillow, Spencer grabs you by the hips and maneuvers you to lay on your back, all while keeping his cock firmly inside you.

“We have to stop,” you say. “I think you have a new case.”

And then, his phone rings.

He puts two fingers into your mouth while he picks up the call with his other hand.

“This is Reid.”

“Reid? We have a case. A string of homicides in Atlanta.”

He hums, watching you slobber over his fingers.

“Reid?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Y/N with you?”

Spencer feels the way your pussy clenches around him.

“Yeah,” he admits.

Hotch is quiet on the other side of the line.

“Don’t be late. We leave in an hour.”

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of my Gotham/Tim Drake! Danny where Danny doesn’t know any knowledge beforehand about the DC universe.

Danny doesn’t know how he got here, but the fact that he now shares something in common with Vlad other than their technical halfa status disgusts him

His new name is Timothy Jackson Drake. It’s so far removed from Danny that his parents had him examined for deafness because he didn’t respond to it. He got better at it, at putting on the mask Janet and Jack Drake wanted to see. So they took him to the circus.

He meets Dick Grayson. Danny thinks the kid is adorable, even if Danny himself is technically younger. He sees the flying Graysons fall. The buzzing in his head doesn’t go away.

He’s five, when the fading spirit of Gotham reaches out and pleads her King to protect her city in her stead. She is fading. He says yes, because she’s one of his. The buzzing in his head settles and oh because that’s what’s been missing this entire time. Danny didn’t have a haunt and Gotham gave him one.

He grieves when she dies, the new title settling around small shoulders, and the city grieves with him. In the city proper, Batman and Robin are having the worst night of their lives in the sudden storm.

He’s nine. Robin is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, in turn, is an idiot. Batman… well, he’s at least mentoring and protecting the child vigilante, which is more than Danny ever had. He grows fond of them. How could he not, when they tried their hardest to help his city? To help him?

He shows himself, to the duo, in his Phantom form. It’s still him, still modeled after Danny Fenton’s face instead of Tim Drake’s. Ghosts are a reflection of the soul, after all.

“Who are you,” Batman demands, shielding Robin with half a step.

“Gotham.” He replies. Danny wills the city to affirm his claim and the city wraps its arms around the vigilantes. Batman and Robin understands, a deep well of pure knowledge being tapped into in ways they weren’t truly meant to understand.

“…How?”

“Magic,” Phantom says, dry. He tells them of city spirits, and that they can call him in times of dire need.

Dick calls him to help with Two Face. Two Face learns the pain of unmelting ice to the balls.

His core aches when the Bats fight, but Danny knows now that it is inevitable. They’re part of his haunt, his ‘fraid. He knows these things far before they come into fruition.

Dick moves to a sister city. Phantom expands his haunt to Bludhaven because he doesn’t, won’t, ever leave his Robins to themselves.

Nightwing is hopeful, is pleasantly surprised, and very suspicious when he shows up during patrol.

“Gotham…? What are you doing here…? This isn’t, well, Gotham?”

“Satellite City. It is an extension of myself. You were Robin, yes. You’re Nightwing, now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you when I can.”

Phantom goes back, and finds a kid trying to steal tires to make a living. He guides his Knight to him. The starved features, the bones Danny could see, it tugs at his core. It feels like the Ancient of Fate themselves were pulling him along.

“How’d you know I was taking the wheels?”

“Gotham.”

“Are you… high on shrooms or something?”

Bruce sighs. Batman asks Gotham to meet the new Robin, and chuckles when Jason is surprised by the glowing green figure.

Phantom hides this Robin just as much as the last one. He curls shadows around his vigilantes, sometimes at the same time, and softens what little sounds they made while stalking through his city for crime.

He makes small jokes with Jason. Danny forgets, a little, the crushing loneliness of being Timothy Drake.

“I didn’t kill Garzona!”

“You-”

Batman stops as a chill he’s never had experienced directed at him weaves around his neck. An angry Gotham.

“He didn’t kill him.” Danny slides a cold hand on Jason’s shoulders.

But the damage had been done and the next day, Batman is begging Danny to tell him any clues of where Jason had gone.

“Ethiopia.”

He clears the way for Batman to get to Robin. He clears the way for Bruce to get to Jason.

He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Batman would handle everything when in the end, he’s just a man in a mantle that demands more than he ever thought he’d have to pay.

Robin is dead and Danny grieves. The skies crack open and pours a torrent of smogged rain water upon the streets of Gotham. Despite that, Crime Alley is untouched by flood. They say the second Robin was protecting his home.

In a way, it’s not wrong.

Gotham fishes Batman from the bay, carelessly tossing the broken Joker against a shipping container.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’ll die.”

Bruce, Batman, lays on his back, eyes glazed and empty. “Maybe I want to.” He admits. And Danny can’t lose someone else. It’s already bad enough he feels the death of everyone in his city, he can’t lose him too. But Dick won’t come back. He already denied Gotham when Phantom had asked him to come back. Granted, Dick was nervous about denying him the entire time, but Danny realized that he’d lost a brother in the colors his parents chose for Dick. Danny- Phantom had cradled Dick in a swaddle of shadows and comfort.

“Alright.”

“Is it? Alright? I- I don’t want to fail you, Gotham.”

“It is. You’ve always made me proud. You will always make me proud. Whether it be by different name, it matters to me not. Stay. Heal.”

Like Dick was given permission, like he received a hint of peace, Dick Grayson crumpled to the floor and sobbed into Gotham’s shoulder.

(Later, long after Dick Grayson realized his little brother was also his city personified, he cries again into Tim’s shoulders after the later dropped a flower pot perfectly on top of Catalina Flores’ head.)

Gotham, Phantom, Danny makes a choice.

“Tomorrow, a child will show up at your door. You will let him in.”

“No- I can’t. I won’t.” He knows what Danny will ask of him.

“You will.” Danny doesn’t ever do it with his people, with his city, but dire times call for dire actions. It is an order. And Batman is Gotham’s knight. “You will. You will train him. You need a Robin to leash your brutality. I need a Robin, for Robin is my hope. The city’s hope. Our people’s hope. Do not forget the goal you have set out to accomplish in my city.”

Batman rages at him, until he falls unconscious from the wounds he’s gathered. Danny brings him home. He tells Alfred what to expect tomorrow. Bruce wakes up, eyes fixated on the crack that appeared on Danny’s neon green face. “Did. Did I do that?”

Danny nods slowly.

Batman crumples into Bruce Wayne. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

Gotham watches him, unreadable. “Tomorrow.” He says, before fading away.

Tim Drake shows up at the door. Nightwing shows up not long after. Tim Drake adapts to Bruce Wayne’s cold looks and brutal training. Slowly, but surely, he leashes in Batman’s grief fueled brutality and less criminals go to prison with half of their lives beaten out of them.

Batman doesn’t see Gotham as much anymore. He feared that he’s angered his city, that he is no longer welcome.

When Tim figures it out… he allows the roads and the shadows to help Batman once more.

Batman stared intently at the extra coverage. “Thank you,” Tim hears him whisper. “I’m sorry.”

And when Jason Todd comes back to life and attacks Tim in the tower, Tim lets Hood beat him. Gotham had failed him, as Jason’s city. He deserves it. (He doesn’t but Danny had gone past the point of being healthy about his own physical wellbeing. Perhaps being a city spirit this long had affected him, even with the King’s title mitigating the worst of the damages.

“HE REPLACED ME!”

“Because I ordered him to.” Tim whispers, past the pain of a broken leg.

“You? Order Batman around? If you’re going to lie, make it a better one, Replacement.”

Tim catches Jason’s wrist, the one holding the knife to Tim’s throat.

“Robin,” he says simply, allowing Gotham to come out and peer at the child that is his.

Jason stares, disbelieving. Gotham had… Gotham had come by and approved of his plans to clean up Crime Alley. Gotham had extracted a promise not to damage the buildings.

“No.”

His city stares back and him and Jason stumbles away. Tim shifts into Danny, into Gotham.

“You…”

“I am Gotham. I- I did not want to wear these colors. They were yours and Dick’s. But Bruce was hurting the city, he was hurting me. So I made sure he stopped.”

Jason stares at the new cracks, the fresh ones he just caused and the old ones he does not remember being on Danny’s ghostly skin.

Jason swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“As am I. I am sorry I was not there to save you. I am sorry that you died.”

Jason stares at him. The Replacement is Gotham. Jason almost destroyed his city.

“I am glad that you’ve returned. That you’re alive, now.”

“…Really?”

“Always.”

Alternative Version of the above Tower Scene:

Jason slides the knife against the Replacement’s neck.

Danny sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dying again.”

Jason pauses. “What the fuck did you just say, Replacement?”

Danny rolls his eyes at him and Jason rethinks his decision of not offing the little fucker right away.

“You think you’re the first one to die in this household? Get a grip. I did it first, way before you did, jackass.”

Tim is 14. He’s a child. What the fuck is Jason doing?

“When…?”

“How do you think I became Gotham, little bird?”

Jason freezes. And then he’s scrambling backwards, the knife flung away in his horror.

Tim shifts into Gotham and Jason bites back a cut of regret and bitterness.

He… no, what? What even is happening?

“Why is the Joker not dead? You… you told me that you loved me. That Gotham… that-”

“I’m cruel, little bird. The Joker would not suffer as much if he were dead.”

“He’s killing people! He’s killing your own!”

“So everyone thinks.”

“What?”

“I am Gotham, little bird. Mass hallucinogenic gasses are so within my reach to the point it is concerning. Perhaps you should help Ivy with the city clean up?”

“Huh?!”

[disneyprincemuke]

who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver

who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW

(series masterlist)

she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”

sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”

“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”

he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”

“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”

“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”

“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”

he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”

she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”

“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”

“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”

sebastian blinks. “seriously?”

“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”

“from falling down.”

“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”

sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”

logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”

“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.

“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.

“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”

logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”

“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”

“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”

“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”

“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”

mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”

logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”

“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”

“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”

“fair argument.”

“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”

max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”

oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”

“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.

“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”

“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”

“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”

“red bull literally created her.”

“no they didn’t.”

charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”

max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”

“who are you talking about?”

“my race car? her name is rocky.”

oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”

max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”

“seb.”

“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”

“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”

max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @darleneslane @inejismywife @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[luvyeni]

1095 DAYS ,, 방찬

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ exinmate!bangchan x fem!reader wc. 1.3k

genre. smut

🦢◞  including ... oral ( m. receiving ), unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink

request. HERE I AM AGAIN! Ahem so I want a chan smut "he comes out of prison after 2 years for killing your psycho ex and you wait for him at home dressed in his fav way ;)" yeahhhh sounds horrible and freaky but I trust you ;)))

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy it probably one of my favs in a while !

❪ masterlist! ❫

1095 days; 16 hours, 30 minutes and 23 agonizing seconds since you could wake up to his arms warmly wrapped around you in the morning, hear his laugh when he tells you a corny joke that you laugh at just to make him smile— it was finally coming to an end.

3 years before you met chan; you were in a very physically and verbally abusive relationship with your ex; he destroyed you and everything around you— if it wasn't for chan you probably wouldn't have escaped; he saved you, and after he saved you he protected you, didn't let anyone harm you.

when your ex began to stalk you again; finding your shared apartment with chan, breaking into your home thinking you were alone; fortunately for you; you were weren't, but you couldn't say the same thing about your ex. he left out in a body bag, but the love of your life; the only man to protect you was also leaving out that night— in handcuffs.

the court process was long and stressful; and in the end he was sentenced to 5 years in prison for the murder of your ex— 5 years which you told him you'd serve right by his side; well on the outside.

it was the hardest time of both your lives; seeing him locked up in a cage when you went to visit him; sometimes covered in bruises due to fights he would get into with other inmates. only being able to speak to him for short periods of time, most of the time it was him listening to you cry about how you missed him and you needed him, which only made him upset; but he would never change what he did , if he could go back and do it again, he would.

luckily it was all over; he was released, 3 years later; 2 years before his release due to good behavior— he couldn't wait to be and to touch you, it was the first thing he thought about as he walked through those gates. “look at you.” lee know a good friend of his waited with his car. “you’re fucking jacked, did all you do was work out?” he pulled the boy into a hug. “ah! so good to be out.” he said. “and that's all i could do man, that and think about my girl.”

“speaking of your girl; don't worry we made sure she was straight the entire time, she's waiting for you at home.” he smiled getting into the car. “take me to my girl.”

staring at yourself in the mirror; you looked sexy, and it was chans favorite. “perfect.” you smiled to yourself, heart pounding, you'd finally have him in your arms again— you'd finally have him inside you again. “baby?” you heard his voice , the door closing being him. “oh my god!” you shrieked, running out of the room. “channie!” you jumped into his arms. “babygirl.” he lifted you up. “fuck i missed you so much princess.”

“i missed you too.” you said , he groaned. “seeing you and not being able to touch you was fucking torture.” he said. “it's been torture.” you whined, kissing his neck. “i needed you.” he moaned as you bit his neck. “it's not the same using my fingers.” he could feel his cock hardening in his sweats. “then how about i give my pretty princess what she's been needing for the past three years?” he hummed against your skin. “let's take this too the bed room baby.”

he carried you to the room, sitting you down on the bed, taking in your outfit. “oh baby i surely did miss this.” he sighed. “good cause you're getting this for the next few months.” you looked at him with glazed over eyes as you sunk to your knees, hold the waistband of his sweats. “yeah?” he said. “gonna suck my cock?” you nodded; pulling his pants down, along with his underwear , his cock almost slapping you in the face. “missed this so much.”

you grabbed the base of his cock; kissing his tip. “fuck baby , give me what i've been missing.” you sunk down on his length; his head knocking back as you began to bob your head up and down. “that's it baby, suck my cock.” he hadn't felt this in so long; unable to ever have privacy in a prison cell; he was force to be celibate the three years he was locked up. “fu-fuck baby , not gonna last long; take it fully choke on daddy's dick.” he grunted , your removed your hand from stroking what you couldn't fit inside your mouth, holding his thighs as you took him fully , gagging around his length. “yes fuck!” his thick accent and deep moans , shooting straight to your cunt , making you moan around his length. “fuck baby gonna blow my load , gonna take it right fuck , take it right down your throat?”

he began to thrust himself; using your throat. “fuck baby im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum?” he released over and over. “fuck im cumming!” he shouted , cumming into your waiting mouth , pulling out cumming onto your cheek. “good girl , taking daddy's cock like that.” he moaned, slapping his cock on your cheek. “time for daddy to fuck that pretty pussy of his.”

he helped you up. “as much as i love this pretty outfit, it's time to take this off so i can get a good look of your pretty body.” you slowly took off your lingerie, he watched you , stroking his cock. “you like daddy?” he smirked. “so fucking much princess , your pretty photos is what kept me sane for those three years.” he groaned. “go ahead and get on the bed for me.”

he cursed as you climbed on to the bed , spreading your legs revealing your wet center. “so wet baby, you really missed my cock didn't you?” he got in between your legs. “so-so much.” you moaned. “missed it so much.” you said , running your freshly manicured fingernails , pink with his initials , down his abs. “please fuck me.”

he wasn't gonna deny you or himself , pushing himself inside you. “oh yes.” he moaned. “this is what i've been missing.” he slowly rocked his cock inside of you. “ch-chris.” you moaned. “so-so fucking big.” the familiarity of his cock stretching you out , giving your cunt exactly what it wanted after so many years. “go faster please.”

he pushed your legs against your chest. “want daddy to go faster, fuck you deeper?” you nodded, he folded your body in half , pounding into you. “fuck!” you screamed. “this what you want?” he plowed into you. “for me to ruin this pussy?” he hissed. “yes please!” you cried out. “fu-fuck princess , daddy missed you so much.” he cursed. “missed feeling you squeezing me like this.” he groaned , the last three years were hell , now that he was out , he wasn't going back , he would never leave you for that long. “shit im gonna cum.” he moaned. “me-me too.” you moaned. “please cum inside me.”

“yeah? want me to cum inside you, give you a baby?” he cursed, he was ready to settle down with you, he had it all figured out , get a job at changbins auto shop; marry you and start a family. “please chan , give me a baby.” he kissed your neck. “channie im gonna cum.” you moaned. “gonna cum all over your cock.”

“fuck baby do it, cream daddy's cock.” he watched your mouth drop open as you came. “oh fuck that's it baby cum for daddy.” he groaned. “gonna cum.” his thrust began to falter. “fuck im cumming!” his cock twitching as he came deep inside you. “shit.”

he pulled out; watching his cum leak out. “mhm , not done baby , daddy's still hard.” he began to thrust inside you. “chan.” you shook in overstimulation. “ch-chan please fuck me.” he smiled. “don't worry baby.”

“daddys got so much more cum for you pretty girl.”

©LUVYEN