#the police officers were so tired of seeing him in there sometimes people call stuff in and they just ignore it

[write-orflight]

The Fraction of Innocence.

**Gif Not Mine**

Anon Requested: 10, 16, and 25 for the smutty prompts thing!!!

10: “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you donna do about it?’

16: “the only way you are gonna get off is on my thigh.”

25: “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

Pairings: SpencerXReader

Rating: M, (This is very explicit.)

Words: 4K

Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+ (Dom!Spencer, BDSM overtones, sexual conduct, fingering, bondage, etc.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Spencer thinks Y/N is an innocent, naive girl until a case reveals her extracurricular activities. 

Spencer had been back from jail for 2 months when he first met her. 

At first he didn’t think anything of her, other than the faint smell of vanilla and daisy as she walked past him in the bullpen and the bright smile that seemed to take up half her face. She was carrying files close to her chest like a schoolgirl late to class and the skirt of her white dress bellowed softly behind her as she made her way to Emily’s office.  

“Who is that?” He had asked. 

Luke looked up to where Spencer’s gaze was. “Oh, that’s Y/N, she's a tech analyst helping Penelope out right now. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”  

It doesn’t take Spencer long after that to decide he, in fact, does not like you. There was nothing wrong with you. Luke was right, you were sweet, almost sickeningly so. It was like you had no concept of reality. You lived in this world of all sunshine and good things despite the horror that crossed your screen daily. And while Penelope was the same, she at the very least knew how bad the world could be and chose to see the good in it. You didn’t, it was like you’d never had a single bad thing happen to you. And Spencer, who had been dealt the bad hand so many times in life hated that. 

It also didn’t help that you were gorgeous too. You looked like an artist sculpted you himself to make the perfect woman. Real People weren’t supposed to look like that. Real people were supposed to have flaws and blisters. Real people were supposed to look tired so early in the morning not fully awake and smiling while handing everyone in the office a coffee. He didn’t understand how you could be real.   

“Here you go, Spencer. Americano lots of sugar.” You said, placing the coffee on his desk. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles. 

“We have a case, by the way.” You giggle, going off to hand Luke his coffee before walking away to the conference room. Spencer was barely able to keep his eye roll at bay. 

Luke sees that and laughs, clapping Spencer on the back. “Come on, kid. Play nice.” 

“She’s giggling about a murder case.” Spencer grumbles before following him into the conference room. 

“3 women have been murdered in Queens. Judging by the scars, they were all bound and strangled before finally being dumped in an alley.” Garcia says, as she goes through the slides, showing the crime scenes. “Police need our help finding the connection between these three women because right now, it looks like there is none.” 

“I’d say.” Tara speaks up. “We have a waitress/student, a doctor, and a paralegal. All living in different areas of the city with virtually no reason to interact.” 

Spencer looks down at his file, examining the picture when he notices something. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you clear your throat.  

“Umm, Emily?” You say from your seat right across from Spencer. Emily looks up inquisitively at you. “I think I know what connects them.” 

“What’s that, Y/N?” Emily asks, raising a brow at her.  

You clear your throat again. “Victim #2, Rebecca Belfront, has a Padlock collar necklace on in her second picture. That’s typically used to indicate she’s a submissive with a committed dominant partner. But she wasn’t wearing it when her body was found which makes me think that that relationship recently ended. That made me look at the marks on their arms. While there are some new ones from the murders, they all have faded marks around the wrist and body as well. Leads me to believe the bounding was er-... consensual. We should probably look into New York’s BDSM scene.” You close, smiling awkwardly. 

Spencer looks at you in shock. He, of course, had come to the same conclusion you did and had been about to say that but he, at least, knew why he knew that. Why did you know that? 

Emily hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth looking into. Do you mind coming to NY with us? Your insight might be needed.” 

You look kind of shocked at that but nod. “Of course, whatever I can do to help.” You say, softly. 

“Great, Wheels up in 30.” She says, getting up, effectively ending the meet. Spencer watches you speed after her, files in hand to ask some more questions. Spencer’s walking back to his desk when Luke catches up with him. 

“Y/N has a dark side. Who knew?” He says, smirking. 

“Probably not.” Spencer muses. “She could’ve just known that. I mean, I  just know stuff sometimes too.” 

“Nah, I don’t think so. Her body language gave her away. She was flushing and stuttering sure, but she was confident in what she was saying. Almost as if, she was speaking from experience.” Luke laughs. “She may be all lollipops and candy bars here, but I bet behind closed doors, she’s handcuffs and gags.”  

Spencer hums. “Maybe.” He says looking up to watch you walk back across the catwalk from Prentiss’ office. Luke was right though, your body language did give you completely away that you were talking from experience. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder just how much. 

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

When you arrive in New York, You head straight from the jet to the Police Station in Queens. You fiddle with your thumbs a bit, you are nervous. 

“You ok?” Spencer says, from his spot in front of the bulletin board he was setting up. You were supposed to be helping him but you knew Spencer was particular about some things so you let him do it. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d let Spencer do. With you, to you, you weren’t picky. The man was gorgeous enough to make you nervous. With his lean muscles, long, fluffy hair, and large hands, he looked like something that walked right out of a wet dream of yours. Which sometimes, he was just that. You weren’t stupid though, you knew Spencer didn’t think of you that way. In fact, you didn’t think Spencer thought of you in any way. He seemed to ignore you anyway he could. 

You look up from your laptop. “Oh yea, I’m fine. I’m just...nervous. I’ve never been in the field.” 

“Chances are you won’t be, Emily will probably keep you in the Station if she can help it.” Spencer provides. 

“I know, it’s just-- you know what I mean.” You say, Spencer nods before returning to the bulletin board. You stand to look at the map with him. “So, from what I was able to find there’s only 3 BDSM clubs in Queens but there’s only one in the middle of where the three women were found. Place called Cat’s Cradle.” 

Spencer hums. “How complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.” You look up at the man, recognizing the quote.  

“There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look.” You say back, shrugging. 

“You read Vonnegut?” He asks. 

“You said that like you’re more surprised that I can read than what I read being Vonnegut.” You say, Spencer shrugs not even denying it. God, he was such a dick sometimes. A hot dick, but a dick nonetheless. 

The two of you turn when you hear a knock at the door to see the lead detective coming in to check on you guys. “Just wanted to see how things were coming along. Also see if you guys needed anything?” Though he only directed the question at you with a sly smirk on his face. Men were so obvious sometimes. 

“Nope, we’re fine.” You smile although you didn’t want to. “We’ve narrowed down to a couple BDSM clubs so hopefully we’ll catch our guy soon.” 

“Wait, you think these girls were…” He trails off. You nod, knowing what he was thinking. “Well, it probably serves them right.” 

“Excuse me?” You say. 

“Listen, I know what kind of girls go into those kinds of clubs. If they want to be sexual deviants, they can’t be surprised when shit like this happens to them.” He gestures to the board. 

“Actually more women are into Dominant/Submissive as well as BDSM relationships than you would think, statistically 85%.” Spencer cuts him off. “These clubs are just commonplace for them to meet like minded people just like you would do in any other club and they should be put on trial after their deaths for trusting the wrong person. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to work, Detective.” He says, turning back towards the board. The man nods and leaves shortly after that. 

“Thank you.” You say, softly. 

“What for?” Spencer asks. 

“Come on, I work with profilers and I’m not stupid. I know you guys know about me so thank you for defending me just now.” 

“I wasn’t defending you.” Spencer says. “He was making inappropriate comments about victims and we don’t need that outdated way of thinking working on this case. Besides…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “You’re not the only one with… unconventional extracurriculars.” He turns and walks out after that leaving you watching after him. 

What? 

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

 After delivering the profile, you find the Unsub, a man named Ivan Parke. The only thing left to do was find the best way to snuff him out. When the team is discussing the next best course of action. It’s then Luke comes up with the idea. 

“We should send Y/N undercover.” He says. “She knows the profile and knows the most about the scene.” 

Emily nods. “Is that something you’re comfortable with, Y/N.” 

You look up. “Oh, um yea. I’d have to find a different outfit but you have to send someone with me.” You say, everyone looks at you confused so you sigh and explain yourself. “If you send me into a club like this, in a foreign place with no Dom, the Unsub isn’t going to be my only worry. Someone’s going to have to play my dominant.”   

“I’ll do it.” Spencer speaks up. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting Spencer to agree to it, you assumed you’d be stuck with Luke. Now you’re going to have to spend the night with the man you’d been crushing on since you started working with the BAU as his submissive. Like that wasn’t a dream come true. 

“Great.” Emily says, dismissing everyone and handing you an expense credit card for an outfit. You take it and leave immediately, ignoring the sly look Spencer gives you. 

You ended with a short, low-cut black leather dress with tank-like sleeves that showed off your curves and left very little to the imagination. As well as a clear pair of platform heels. You pulled your hair back into a sleek ponytail and you topped the look with your own personal leather choker with a large circle knob in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces to wear though you never really got a chance to wear it unless you were going to clubs, which you didn’t do as often these days. It was an expensive piece sure, but so worth it when you got to wear it. You were doing your makeup a little darker then you usually do in the bathroom when Spencer comes in. 

“Is this how you typically look on the weekends?” He asks, standing behind you in the mirror. You look up to look him in the eyes through it. 

“If I have the time.” You shrug. 

“It’s very different. You’re very different from how I thought you were.” 

“And how did you think I was, Spencer?”

“Naive...innocent.”   

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed anything about me.” You say, turning towards the man. 

“Maybe you’re right… That’s an expensive piece.” He points out pointing to your choker. “Emily’s going to have fun explaining that at the next budgetary hearing.” 

“I didn’t buy it today.” You explain. “It’s mine.” 

Spencer hums for a moment before lifting his hand to turn your jaw, examining the piece. You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the contact. Spencer was already so close to you and now he was touching you, it was already starting to be too much. Soon, Spencer is hooking two fingers into the circle knob of your choker and he yanks it. Involuntarily, a whimper falls from your lips, prompting a smirk from the man across from you. 

“Tonight’s going to be fun.” He says before leaving you in the bathroom in a state of shock. 

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

 After getting your comms set up by Luke, who tried to avert his eyes from your frame as much as possible, you and Spencer walk into the Cat’s Cradle. Typically you didn’t like the club scene, but you sometimes liked to venture out when looking for a new partner. Cat’s Cradle was definitely different than the other places you had been. Sure it still had the private rooms and the main stage where a scene was happening in front of you but it was a lot more laid back than the ones you went to in DC. Spencer was really enjoying his role too. Probably hamming it up too much because he knew there was a part of you that actually wanted him to. In the end, finding Ivan Parke was easy. He took the bait almost instantly and you were arresting him just as fast. 

“Great work tonight guys.” Emily says, when you reach the hotel lobby. “Jet’s leaving at 7AM so make sure to get some rest.” She says, dismissing you. 

Now begged a tricky situation because you had almost forgotten you and Spencer were rooming together. As you walked back to the room together the air was thick but both of you were silent. The tension had been building between the two of you since he yanked your choker in the station bathroom. You knew it was a matter of time. The dam had to break. 

“You can shower first.” Spencer says. You nod, taking off your choker and grabbing clothes before taking solace in the bathroom. You wanted Spencer and you knew you needed to expedite this. After a much needed shower, you change into your pajama shorts and tank combo. Spencer steps into the shower almost as soon as you leave it. It’s then that you think of the perfect plan. You lay on the bed and spread your legs before slipping a hand down your shorts. You tease yourself at first, rubbing your clit through your underwear while you thought about the events of the night. How Spencer had been so authoritative. How his hand slid to the small of your back and sometimes ghosted your ass as the two of you walked around the club. How he had been so close in the bathroom. The way he yanked you closer. A small moan escaped you as you slid your hand in your underwear. Soon you hear the bathroom door open. Spencer stops short, watching you before leaning on the frame. 

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“Yes.” You answer. “Are you gonna to do something about it?” 

“Should I? Instead of telling me what you want you decide to act like a brat and do this.” 

Spencer moves closer to the bed but doesn’t do anything, just continues to watch you so you decide to give him a show. Moaning loudly as you slide a digit inside of you. Spencer looks at you with hooded eyes. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you. 

“I think you’re going to give me what I want.” You say, smirking. 

“And why’s that?” He says. 

“You’re already weak.” You say. 

“I’m weak, pretty girl?” He asks, incredulously. Before you know it, he’s ripping your hand out of your pants and crowding in the space between your legs forcing you to sit up and look at him. “You’re in here touching yourself to the thought of me like a horny teenager and I’m the one who’s weak? Ok.”  He sits back and pulls you by your hips to sit on top of his lap, your legs straddling one of his thighs. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, ok?” He tells you, starting to move your hips. You moan, nodding your head as the friction makes its way through your core. Spencer lifts your shirt off you and smirks when his eyes land on your bare breast. He leans forward to catch your left nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you grind harder against his thigh. Your hands fly up to start unbuttoning his shirt when he stops you. 

“Did I say you could touch yet, princess?”  He asks. 

“N-No, sir.” You stutter. 

“Then keep your hands to yourself.” He says, putting your hands back to your side. He does indulge you by taking his shirt off himself. But that doesn’t help you keep your hands to yourself. You saw the lean muscle and craved to mark it up with your nails. Your hands go up to touch him again but he stops you. 

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to tie you up, Princess. Just be good, baby.” 

You were already close before but now with Spencer’s hands and mouth everywhere and constant friction on your sex it was damn near pushing you off the edge. 

“I’m gonna come.” You tell him, he grips your hips tighter, lifting his leg slightly so he was only rubbing against your clit. That makes you moan out loudly. 

“Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me.” He says, and that was all you needed to fall right over the edge. Your legs shake and convulse as Spencer grips your hips help you ride it out.  Soon you come down panting and he’s kissing into your neck. He pulls back and grips your jaw. 

“Still think I’m weak, Princess?”  He asks. 

You knew it was unwise. In fact, you tried to stop yourself before you did it but it was too late. You reared your hand back and slapped Spencer across the cheek. Not hard enough to be seen as anything malicious but sharp enough to throw him off, like he couldn’t believe you had done it.  

“Yes I do.” You say looking him in the eyes after. Something like a switch went off because there was no other way to describe the look he gave you other than feral and fully primitive. He pushes you off him. 

“Get on your hands and knees, now.” He says, menacingly. You scramble and run to get into the position. Once in, Spencer forces your knees further apart. He angrily takes his belt off his pants before fashioning them into a makeshift cuff and pulling your wrist so they’re tied behind your back, leaving you face down into the mattress. He slides your shorts and underwear off in one go. You yelp loudly when the first slap comes to your behind. When the second and third slap comes, you try to squeeze your legs together to get some form of friction but Spencer forces your knees further apart. You moan out when you feel a digit slide against your folds. You try to push back on it but Spencer holds your hips in place. 

“P-Please.” you stutter. 

“What do you want, Princess?” He says, sliding a second digit inside you making you cry out more. 

“Please, fuck me, Spencer.” You say, and you really didn’t have to ask twice because almost as soon as you ask Spencer’s hands leave you to finish unbuckling his pants. There’s a brief moment of calm, so calm that you almost think Spencer wasn’t going to give you what you want but that calm is interrupted by Spencer slamming into, no warning. You scream out but that’s only rewarded with your head being shoved more into the mattress to muffle your cries. Spencer’s hands are pulling on your cuffs so he is almost impossibly deep inside you. You moans start to get louder and louder. Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you up so you’re both sitting up, your back against his chest. One of his hands slides to grip around your neck while the other is moving to circle your clit. The hand around your neck tilts your jaw back so you’re looking up at the man behind you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Open your mouth, Princess.” He orders, which you do instantly sticking your tongue out. Spencer leans forward and spits into your waiting mouth before locking his mouth with yours. His hand squeezes your neck tighter as you moan into his mouth as he starts fucking you faster, his dick hitting your g-spot almost every thrust. It’s not long before you’re just babbling, not even able to string a coherent sentence together. 

“You gonna come for me, Princess?” He asks. You nod, moaning loudly. At this point, you knew there was no way the person in the room next to you guys didn’t hear you. You could only hope that it wasn’t one of the team. “Go ahead for me, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” After that, it doesn’t take long before you’re falling over the edge, shaking all the while. Spencer fucks you through it before tightening his grip on your hips to bend you back forwards so your face is back on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast before falling over the edge himself, moaning your name. 

The two of you say nothing as he unties you. When he does, you instantly flop down on your back, breathing heavily. Spencer wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom. For a moment you think he’s just leaving you like this, that you were foolish to think Spencer cared anything about you but in that moment he comes back with a wet cloth and ointment. He says nothing as he wipes between your legs before tossing the towel aside. You watch him with a smirk on your face as he rubs the ointment on the red marks the red cuffs made on you. 

He looks you in the eye. “What, Y/N?” 

“What happened to Princess?” You say, Spencer just looks at you with a bored expression which only makes you smile more. “Now’s probably a good time for you to ask me to dinner.” 

Spencer chuckles lightly at that. “You don’t want to go to dinner with me.” 

“I’m almost positive I do. Why would you say that?” You ask. 

Spencer looks you in the eyes at that moment. “I’m not-Y/N, I’m not like you.” 

“Like me?” 

“I’m not able to be cheery and smiley. I can’t float into rooms. I can’t be happy like you are, too much has happened to me. You deserve someone happy.” 

“Spencer.” You say, looking him in the eyes. “You are not broken. You can be happy, it’s going to take time sure but I’m willing to be with you through that. If you want that.” You say. 

Spencer nods. “Ok, Y/N.” he smiles. 

“So….?” 

He rolls his eyes at that. “What’re you doing next sunday?” 

You smile, brightly. “Absolutely nothing.”    

Perm. Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯. — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞? Overview: Y/N tells Mike information to help their lost friend, she also heads to the search party for Will with Victor. As they explore, the past unravels and there is an odd occurrence that happens. Navigation & Mixtape

Tag: @samiyamuntaha @thepowerstoner @ughgclden @mqyfield @cooperdaysgf

“So right by Mirkwood right?” Mike Wheeler’s voice peeped after listening to Y/N’s remark of details about what she heard at the Hawkins Police Department a few hours ago. It was around 7 pm, right around to where the girl was getting ready prone to the search party being held with a few of the residents of the town.

Y/N hummed a positive response to clearing out his doubts just in case he was confused by any means, this wasn’t going to help Mike, it was going to help Will get a faster chance to be retrieved to his home again.

Although Hopper disapproved the request of letting young people in the search, Y/N and Victor were eventually allowed to come along, “Yeah, but remember you have to be somewhat far from the real search group okay? We don’t want you to get caught.”

”Mike! What are you doing?” Nancy’s faint voice was caught on the other line of the phone, leading Mike to leave the phone out, Y/N overhearing them argue over the dumbest things.

Prior to the noises of Mike pushing Nancy out of the basement she guessed, the boy came back on the line, sighing loudly, “Sorry about that, Nancy gets so annoying, I still don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

”She could be a priss sometimes,” She responds, breathily giggling, clenching the ceramic telephone tighter, “But she’s still my friend if you could say.”

Continuing with their conversation based on the plan, it was perfectly assembled, safe with a high possibility of finding Will, even if it had been a day. Will couldn’t have gone far anyways. Y/N was about to speak, but was suddenly caught off guard as soon as she heard her dad in the hallway, getting prepared for the search.

”Oh shit! I have to go now,” Y/N hushed in a subtle tone, trying her best to keep away Hopper from listening to their discussion, “Remember to be home by 9 at least with flashlights. Stay safe Mike.”

The line went awfully silent, placing back the phone to its regular position on the handset, while it being attached to the wall. Rapidly, spinning to look at her father, trying to act as normal as possible, his brows furrowed at her.

”What were you doing?”

Shrugging it off calmly, Y/N breathily giggles while she put her hands on her hips saying, “I was just checking in with Victor, that’s all.”

Hopper’s eyes widened at her point, clicking his tongue as he started grabbing on his sweater for the frosty night ahead, “Funny, but I just called his mom to let him know that he was coming.”

”Right..” Y/N casually crossed her arms, cursing under her breath before she showed any subtle reaction to what she was up to. Play it cool.

In the silence of her looking around the messy home by the front door, Hopper sharply whistles while slinging the car keys in the air to catch them, making Y/N follow right behind me, pretending as if the few minutes didn’t occur. Feeling the breeze of the autumn air, both the relatives made their way to the vehicle, on their way to the small yet important search for this boy, Will Byers.

As the road got narrower and narrower, the car drove deeper into the dark woods, where Y/N could see the slender trees and branches surrounding them. The starry sky lit up the place with a soft tone of dim blues and grays painted across it on the chilly night. Watching out the window, Y/N squinted her eyes to see a figure from afar waving towards the vehicle, a familiar figure to be Victor. Hopper drove nearer, the headlights being able to guide him to the stop where a small crowd of people were surrounding along with the patrols.

Hopper cleared his throat, while he pushed the breaks down and turned to his daughter, “Hey kid, remember don’t be-“

Without hesitation, Y/N swung the car door open to step out of it, hustled her way to her so called “acquaintance”, Victor. It was more like a friend but she didn’t want to be that close with the boy. Victor wearily smiling at her.

“You seem tired,” Y/N creeps up next to him, watching the small groups of people around the mounds of dead leaves and twigs gathered for the search.

Victor’s voice brings the girl’s attention back to him, he clears his throat, “I mean dealing with Flo is already a lot for me to handle, so I suppose I am.” The two silently chuckled, the frost getting to their noses, “I heard there’s gonna be a chance of rain.”

”Really?”

“Yes really! Haven’t you seen the forecast? I’m even wearing a jacket!” Victor squinted his eyes, his eyewear raising up on the bridge of his nose and the girl shrugged aimlessly.

Y/N scoffed, shoving him slightly, “I think there’s way more important things we need to focus on instead of the weather.”

From afar, Hopper and the policemen indicated all the volunteers to gather around on the sidewalk, near the entrance of the forest. The flashing blue and red lights were turned off from the cars, everyone else preparing for the upcoming search.

”Okay guys!” The chief shouted to direct everyone, “We need to stay in the 5 mile radius from where Will was last scene! Everyone please be careful and remember to blow the whistle if you find anything at all!”

Heads were nodded, agreeing to the directions, Officers Powell and Callahan guided two separate groups from different directions, Y/N having to come along with the third group including her dad. Although the girl was 16, her father wanted to take the best care for her, after Sarah. He wanted to keep her as close as possible, but he knew she was getting older. It was just for today, he can protect her for today, now being aware of a kid disappearing in their town. Maybe one of them was next.

“I guess that’s your call genius,” Y/N told Victor as she pointed towards Powell’s group who were walking to the right side of the woods, the people disappearing one by one into the darkness.

Not budging at all, Victor stood his ground saying, “I think I’ll stick with you for now, there’s just soccer moms hoarding the group for Powell, he has a fan club.”

“You’re not wrong Vic,” She sniggered quietly but failed miserably, letting out a subtle loud laugh, both of the teenagers walking behind their group, down a steep hill leading to the inner nature.

Rushing down first to the bottom, the tall brunette reached his hand out for Y/N who was still at the top, to help her come down to his level, “M’lady?”

”Why thank you, what a gentleman!” Y/N sarcastically gasps, gripping onto his hand to steady herself below, after they jogged closer to the group, flicking their flashlights on to carry on.

Everyone glanced above the branches, the moon shining as the crickets chirped. The crisp wind running across their faces, making the trees shuffle loudly. As flashlights led them with its brightness, they all searched and searched, for any trace of the boy around the area.

Half an hour later, the air became cooler than usual, almost bringing a frostbite to their bare hands. The sound of branches and dead leaves crunching over the few people above them. In the silence, Y/N stayed near Victor and her father, hearing shouts for Will. The realization hit the girl, they were looking for lost Will, Will hasn’t appeared, he was probably in some sort of danger. She fastened her grip on the flashlight, looking around more closely, along with the rest.

”He’s a good student,” Someone decides to break the silence of the leaves and twigs crunching under their feet, Victor and Y/N turned their attention to him as they strolled in the woods.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow up and looks towards the teacher’s direction after the statement, “What?”

”Will. He’s a good student. Great one actually,” He elaborates, smiling sheepishly to lend his hand in front of the chief to introduce himself, “I don’t think we’ve met, Scott Clarke. Teacher, Hawkins Middle. Earth and biology.”

“Don’t you remember he was my teacher back in the day?”

Victor nods agreeing with Y/N’s statement from behind, Hopper reluctantly trying to remember his daughter’s middle school teacher, still not recalling since in those past years where fighting for Y/N’s custody between the parents, “I always had a distaste for science.”

”Well maybe you had a bad teacher,” Mr. Clarke remarks, checking if his flashlight was still operating, trudging closer to the group of three ahead of him.

”Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work,” Hopper scoffs jokingly, Y/N doing the same as well, remembering his shitty science teacher from his past years while he studied at Hawkins High.

”Ratliff?” The teacher ponders, realizing that the same teacher still resides in Hawkins after all these years, “You bet. She’s still kicking around believe it or not.”

Victor elaborates in between them, sliding his hands onto his pockets, “I had her when I was in eighth grade a few years back.”

”Oh I believe it Victor. Mummies never die, so they tell me,” Hopper smiles, trying to get his daughter to notice but she dozed off beyond the sight of the woods, ”Sarah, my youngest, galaxies, the universe whatnot.. She always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going down here, I never needed to look elsewhere.”

Y/N flickered her eyes towards her father’s direction after hearing the special name, it wasn’t so special to one, but to her, it was. Sarah, Sarah Hopper her little sister, but soon enough the teacher interrupted, “Maybe I’ll get her in my class I-“

“No, she uh.. she lives with her mom in the city,” He cuts the man off from his statement, Victor widening his eyes on Y/N’s side, knowing fully that wasn’t true.

The girl beside the tall boy looked back at his dark eyes, signaling him to be quiet, Y/N was aware of the fact that everyone in Hawkins knew Sarah’s death. Just because of her own blabbermouth, Steve told everyone including the parents her little secret the young female confessed to.

As much as her dad still wants to deny the fact the little one was gone and resting in peace, staying of his delusion Y/N wished she could have. It was a promise. A promise that everything was okay and there wasn’t nothing to worry about, almost some sort of fairy tale where everything had its happy endings with a happy family which wasn’t it.

“Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it.” Hopper clears the air, trudging past them farther into the dark eerie woods, Y/N and Victor repeating his steps behind him.

Once they were  out of the picture and range from hearing, a middle aged woman spoke up next to the teacher, in a hushed tone saying, “She died a few years back.”

”Sorry?” Mr. Clarke shifted his head in bewilderment towards the lady for any clarification from the inadequate statement given.

”His kid.”

The teacher’s eyes widened, observing the two family members mumbling inaudible words behind the brisk trees of the cool night. He didn’t know the Hoppers hid their family, they never talked much about family when it came to projects when Y/N was younger. It seemed like something ever so private not like where many kids shared experiences with their loved ones, they always kept everything about their family closed up. Almost a mystery.

Y/N could hear the soft mumbles of the quiet conversation being exchanged by the lady and her former teacher, she felt sick knowing that her father stays in the delusion of her sister being alive, lying. Lying wasn’t so hard for her, Y/N was almost a professional at it when it came to helping the party in situations. But lying to her dad was different, it was the both of them against the horrid place called the world.

“Is Sarah going to be back?” A small girl walked over to the grown adults who stood at the front door, puffy eyes showing on their faces, as they held a plastic wristband and stuffed tiger after a long day from not seeing her sister. It was already near midnight.

Without any move, the woman, who to be seen was the girl’s mother, bursted into tears, her husband catching her into his arms. The youngling worriedly watched her parents shed tears, a middle aged woman got up from the couch to comfort both of them. Whispers and mumbles being shared between the adults, bringing more tears.

”Mommy?” The girl steadily crept next to her mom’s leg, wrapping her short arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the woman’s body, “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Sobs were still heard from the mother, the two of the women held each other tightly while the tall man let go from their hug, kneeling next to the girl’s level, “Y/N, kid-“

”Dad, where’s Sarah?!” Y/N shakily shouted, her stomach feeling uneasy, with her sister not being found. What happened to Sarah? She knew Sarah was going to get better. Why was mom crying? So many questions filled her head, eyes welling up, her father hugging her tightly with all the hurt and love. Y/N noticed the wristband that her father was holding, she peered closely to see a sloppy handwriting shown as the name Sarah, written all over it with the date when she was sent to the hospital.

”Sarah is... gone.”

The little’s watery eyes widened, her bottom lip trembling, she threw her arms around her father, her head leaning onto his shoulder. Her little sister was gone, she was alone now, her heart crumbling into a million pieces. Sarah, Sarah wasn’t here anymore. But it seemed so surreal, it was only yesterday the two sisters laughed about one of the nurses dropping her cup of coffee while getting chemotherapy.

“Dad.. Can she come back?”

Sadly grinning, Hopper wiped the girl’s chubby face from her tears, shaking his head, “I’m sorry kid, she’s not coming back.”

”But she has to! Sarah has to come home with us,” Y/N choked in her tears, her eyes becoming swollen, grabbing the wristband from her father’s large hand, “Sarah can’t leave me alone here. She promised she would stay.”

”Y/N, I know this is difficult but your sister left us. She’s in a better place now.”

Making her cry even more, Y/N’s mother rapidly kneeled next to her husband and daughter, she sniffed, grabbing onto her daughter, “We promised Sarah we would love each other and always stay safe. Forever.”

”Promise?”

Both of the girl’s parents joined in for a tight hug, Y/N fastening her arms around the two others, “Promise. We promise you sweet pea.”

”Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice boasted in the ears of Y/N, she focused her attention back to the voice. There was no one beside her by the time she looked around, it was the sounds of the wind and her alone. Her flashlight flickered in her hands, she shook it vigorously to try and turn it back on, but there was nothing coming out of it, just a dimly lit tone guiding her way. Nothing else in her sight except for the trees and moonlight, she tried her best to not overthink this and make her way back to the group.

Every turn she made in the paths, it led her to nowhere, noises filled the aura. Slowly, she began to worry, she wasn’t coming back to the group. Y/N’s head filled itself with thoughts, there was no way she could be lost, last time she was with Victor, rambling about the weather. Where was she? Looking up, she felt small droplets of water dripped onto her face above, Y/N squinted her eyes to avoid the drizzle. The water fell down slowly until it started raining heavier in the air, she wiped her face to dry it off and continue to try to find her way back.

“Dad!” Y/N shouted, wrapping her arms over herself, her hair becoming soaked along the time. She kept shouting and shouting, worry filling her in. The girl was afraid. What if she went missing like Will? Oh no.

Without a precaution, a branch from behind was heard. Y/N whipped her head to the direction, seeing a small human with a white gown rapidly run off to opposite direction, the rain blurring her eyes. Was that Will? Curious, she picked up speed to follow the boy, it may be Will. A chance of relief rushing in as her adrenaline sped up, almost running faster. “Will! It’s me!”

The boy didn’t stop, sprinting faster with his bare feet. Y/N still yelled, slowing her pace down, then picking it back up, going through the trees. An idea came to her, tugging at her metal whistle to her lips, blowing on it. The sound coming off it, maybe attracting people to find her and the boy, it has to be Will. Using her arms to run faster, she suddenly trips over a thick log after not seeing below her because of the wind, sending her to the floor. She whimpers as she felt her ankle burn in a pain, whistling even more.

From the distance, few people to what she could tell came forward to her, rain soaking over her head. Thunder being heard far away, Victor came into the picture to kneel down next to Y/N.

”Hey are you okay?” He worriedly checks on her, receiving a nod. Victor looked around for any possible wounds since he found her on the ground, “We couldn’t find you!”

Y/N hardly paid attention to him and looked afar to see if the boy would turn up again. She held Victor’s jacket to pull him closer, “I think I saw Will! He was running through there I-“

”Chief Hopper coming through, excuse me,” A voice from the crowd of people called in, Hopper bringing himself forward to find his soaking daughter on the ground pointing toward another direction. “What’s wrong?”

Victor moves to tell Hopper while being next to shaking and wet Y/N, “She saw Will.”

[thisismyhell]

With you, Safely

Pairing: Hotch x reader (criminal minds) FLUFF :)

Summary: You have a stalker, and it just so happens the BAU is in the right place at the right time. Can Hotch make you feel safe in your stressful state?

Words: 5k

TWs: blaming yourself, a gun is mentioned, making out!!!!!

Being honest about your personal life was never your strong suit. You always had the habit of leaving out sometimes small, and sometimes big, details about your situation. Whether it was because you found it way too personal, or just simply forgot about the idea of telling someone. You knew that theoretically if the people in your life were good, they would be there for you. But, you also knew that you had some people in your life who were not so good, and the lines often blurred in your mind. So when you started getting anonymous threats sent to your workplace, it took you a while to come to terms with the fact that you should tell someone. 

Taking your boss’s advice, you went to the police station. You have never had a reason to engage with a cop before, and if you were honest with yourself, you were not exactly thrilled at the concept. Especially under your circumstances. Not only did you hate the idea of talking about your personal life, but asking for actual help made you nauseous. It made you physically uncomfortable to put yourself out there like that, admitting to being vulnerable and not being able to take care of the situation quietly on your own. You understood that having threats sent to you like this was not a casual situation you could take care of, but you were still mentally trying to get out of this realization. Everything is fine if you just don’t talk about it, right?

“How can I help you today?” the receptionist asked, bringing you back into reality. “Um, sorry - I just..I think I may have a s-stalker? I don’t really know though, it might not even be that serious-”, “okay, what makes you think you have a stalker?” you were thankful she had taken the lead in this conversation. “Well, I-uh, I have been getting threats. Like, sent to my workplace? I don’t know, like, letters and packages from someone I don’t know. It might not be serious, my boss.. My boss just thought I should tell the police?” You were so uncomfortable, and the woman helping you could tell. “Alright well, how about you step into an office over here and we can take you information, and you can tell an officer everything you can. How does that sound?” Her kind eyes were easing your shoulders from their crunched up state. “That would be helpful, yes, t-thank you”. You followed her into an office where an officer wrote down everything you described to them. 

Taking the bus back to your apartment, you felt some tension leave your body. It had been maybe 2-3 months of keeping this to yourself, and you finally had the energy to tell someone. Someone who could maybe actually put you at ease. You probably didn’t have a stalker, let’s be real. That stuff never happens in real life, the concept was so far away from being real to you. Exiting the bus you kept telling yourself everything would be fine, and this would blow over in a week. You walked up the steps to your one bedroom, and found a stack of mail at your doorstep. Picking it up and entering your home, and flipped through. A bill, some junk mail, and some letter with no return address on it. Actually, it just had your info and nothing else, not even a stamp. You put the rest of your mail down and opened the mysterious letter. Your heart sank when you realized what it was. 

“Why did you have to tell them about us? Everything was going so well.”

That’s all it said inside the letter. You dropped it, and called the station asking for the officer you were just speaking to. They told you that you were lucky, because the FBI was in town that week and had just finished up another case. You were told they had some extra time on their hands, and you could come in tomorrow to speak with them. You sighed and agreed, hanging up in relief. This would blow over, everything would be just fine. 

The BAU team was getting ready to head back to their hotel room when Hotch was pulled aside by an officer at the precinct they were working at. “Sir, I’m sorry to ask about this on your way out. But a woman came in earlier about a stalker sending threats to her workplace. We took her story and information, but she just called me back. She got a letter in the mail saying she shouldn’t have told the police. The guy knows where she lives”. 

The team all gathered around the officer. Hotch reached out, “she came in today about this, and he escalated that quickly?”. “Wait, if she was here today, how did we miss her?” Reid probed. The officer shook his head, “the lady was so quiet, she seemed hesitant to even be here in the first place. As soon as she finished her side and said that was all she knew, she was gone. Quietest girl I’ve ever seen”. “She must not have thought it was serious,” commented Morgan. 

“Sure, but a stalker rarely sends threats to the object of his desire without preparing for some kind of meeting. Officer, tell her to come back to the station and we can make a profile”. The officer told him she was already on the way, and she’d be there in less than an hour. 

Feeling shook up, you entered the station for the second time that day. The receptionist recognized you, and walked with you to where the BAU team was working. You felt somewhat shameful that such a big deal was being made over you, but you had to keep reminding yourself that you were not safe in your own home at this time. So you swallowed your pride, and right when you were about to try and get their attention, a tall dark haired gentleman introduced himself. “Good evening, you must be y/n. You can call me Hotch, and this is my team-”, you listed as he told you everyone’s name, thankful for his close proximity to you. Sure it was cheesy, but having a man like Hotch around you made you feel safe. You looked up at him, “thank you all, really - you didn’t have to stay in town just for this”. Hotch cut you off, “Nonsense. We were already here, and having a stalker know where you live on top of where you work is not something to ignore. We will help create a profile for you, you might know who it is without realizing it. You nodded, realizing for the first time in the past 3 months just how tired you were of this. Hotch immediately picked up on your body language, leading you to where a couch was placed in the back of the room.

You sat down next to Reid, the young doctor. He smiled at you almost as awkwardly as you smiled at him. Feeling safe on the couch, you let yourself relax a bit more. The situation you had gotten yourself into was far from ideal, but at least now you weren’t alone in it. However selfish it made you feel, you were happier to be here with the overworked team instead of your lonely apartment. You looked around and it seemed like the entire BAU were trying to profile you. Maybe they were, it was their job of course. You made eye contact with Hotch, who nodded at you, giving you the opportunity to tell your side of things. 

“It started 2 or 3 months ago when I got some letter delivered to me at work. It was weird since like, why would I get mail at work? But I opened it and it was just a description of what I looked like, like in a poem. But I googled it and it’s an original. I couldn’t find it anywhere. So that threw me off but I didn’t take it seriously. I work in retail, I see a million people every shift, you know? I thought it was just some guy who was into me and was weird about it. But then I started getting them more and more often, but just at work. I got sent pictures of myself, presents, and they never had return addresses. And they all had the same handwriting so it was easy to assume it was the same guy. But today...I got a letter to my apartment. To where I live...alone. That’s never happened”. 

The team took in your words, looking like they had definitely seen this kind of thing before. Your gut had the mixed feeling of relief and worry. If they had seen this before they knew what to do, but that meant that they had to do something. Hotch looked at you, “luckily, we should be able to end this before he goes further. Can you tell us anyone in your life, no matter how small, that might want to hurt you, or even someone who holds some animosity towards you?”. You thought about it, and though you had a hunch, you were hoping it wasn’t true. “My..my ex boyfriend. I thought we ended things amicably, but I don’t think he ever got over it. I was hoping it wasn’t him”. The team all nodded, this was probably more common that you thought. 

You stood up, “I’m sorry, I just need some air”. You stepped into the hallway for some quiet, when you heard the office door open and close behind you. You recognized his cologne, Hotch came out and stood in front of you. “I know how uncomfortable this situation must be. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable in the meantime?”. The man had the kindest eyes, even under his stern brows. You wondered if he practiced this expression, the perfect balance between intimidating and soft. You hoped you were that good and being readable, that way you wouldn’t have to open your mouth. Weirdly, the only thing you wanted in that moment was a coffee. Something to keep you warm and give you some much needed energy. Having yourself on display like this all day had been exhausting. You were amazed when Hotch spoke, “there’s a coffee place across the street. The machine in here is broken, thankfully. I’ll take you”. He gently hovered his hand on the small of your back, as if asking permission to guide you out of the building. 

He walked you out, opening doors for you on the way. Walking into the shop with an FBI agent on your arm made you feel safe for the first time in a couple months. You weren’t one to rely on others in any capacity, but in that moment, you let yourself feel relaxed with the man’s presence. It was literally his job to keep you safe, and you’d be lying if that fact didn’t give you butterflies. You were a little too engulfed with taking him in that you didn’t notice he was speaking to you. “Sorry? I’m sorry, I must have zoned out, what were you saying?” you stammered, and he just looked down at you and smiled, repeating his question. “I was asking what you would like to drink? I assume coffee, but I wasn’t sure what your preference was”, he was smiling down at you, and you forgot about every type of coffee that has ever existed. “Oh! Um, a vanilla latte. But you don’t have to get it for me, I can take care of myself-” he cut you off with a single look. “Although I am more than sure you are capable of taking care of yourself, I would like to give you this one thing, if you’d let me”. You swallowed, “I guess- I guess I can let you do this one thing. For me. Thank you, sir”. He ordered your drinks and the two of you stood at the next counter waiting for them. Hotch quietly spoke to you, almost like it was just the two of you in the entire building, “as much as I appreciate the title, please call me Hotch”. You found yourself suppressing a giggle at the feeling of his voice so close to your neck, you were definitely not used to this level of attention. “Okay, Hotch it is”. 

You grabbed your drinks, and he held the door open for you on the way out. He moved his hand from your back where you had gotten so used to it, and he walked right into the road. You watched as he lifted his hand, stopping traffic to let you cross alongside him. What you didn’t see, was Morgan looking out the window at you two, and beckoning the team to come see how Hotch was treating you. “Damn, he must really like coffee today”. Reid joined him at the window, “actually, Hotch always has a next level of confidence after a case ends well. Y/n must be his outlet for a good mood”. Rossi sat at his desk working on a file, “yeah.. Pretty nice outlet if you ask me”. 

The two of you came back into the meeting room, and you couldn’t help the blush you felt when you noticed the team all glance at each other at the site of you two. This kind of attention was okay you thought, as long as he’s the source. Hotch pulled out a chair for you to sit next to him, and the team gathered at the meeting table. 

After some deliberation, and completely downing your coffee, you all came to the conclusion that based on your ex’s habits and personality, it was almost definitely him. So you created a plan to lure him out and catch him in the act. Unfortunately for you however, this meant having to literally face your problem. The team seemed confident enough, but Hotch could feel your body stiffen at the thoughts running through your head. Since meeting you just a couple hours prior, it turned out he could read you like a book. You couldn’t tell yet, but he could. He caught your jaw tighten, and he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, “y/n, you do not have to do this. We can find another way if you cannot bring yourself to go through with this plan”. He was being kind, but you all knew that this was for the best. You softly grinned at him, “thank you, Hotch, but I can do this. I want to face him”. And with that, you all left to get into your various positions. 

The plan was simple. In one of the letters you received, he stated that once you finally realized he was the one meant for you, you would get a table for two at the restaurant you had your first date, and you would prove to him you meant it by waiting for one whole hour, sitting there. Alone, while he supposedly watched you and your body language, and would then arrive. You would be wearing a wire, and once he started threatening you in person and possibly making a scene, the BAU would swoop in and save the day. You were confident in your role, not that you had to do much. You borrowed some date-type clothing from Emily, and you were now heading into the restaurant wearing your wire. You knew that this could all go horribly wrong, but hopefully whatever did happen, brought an end to your unhappiness. 

Taking the 100th deep breath of the day, you told the hostess your party name and they sat you down at your table. Thankfully your waiter was in on what was going on, so they wouldn’t be asking you about food until your ex came and sat down. You felt so exposed, of course your table was in the dead centre of the restaurant. You weren’t aware of the agents stationed around you, Reid pointed out that if you knew too much then the stalker would be able to read your body language too well. So you say there, sucking on the ice cubes from your water knowing what a long night this was going to be. 

“How are you feeling, y/n?” Hotch scared the daylights out of you, causing you to swallow your ice cube by accident. You gasped, but recovered smoothly. You kept your face as straight as you could without openly talking to yourself, “you scared me, I didn’t know you’d be on the other end of this thing”. You heard him softly chuckle, easing the tension. “Well, having you wired would be pretty useless if we couldn’t hear each other”. You smiled to yourself. Obviously he was right, but for some reason you just didn’t clue in that it could be him, out of everyone on the team, to be the one consoling you tonight. Maybe they were in on how he made you feel. Mentally thanking Hotch for his presence, “you’re right, how silly of me. Here I am feeling all alone in here without realizing who has my back”. There was a small pause on the other end before he replied, “you are far from alone in there, y/n”. You didn’t think it was possible given the circumstances, but you felt safe here in that moment too. You swore you could feel his physical presence even through the tiny earpiece. 

Some time passed, and with talking as minimally as you could, you realized an hour was about to pass. Now you had to prepare yourself for the confrontation. You were fine, but emotionally and mentally, you were not thrilled for the exhaustion you knew you’d be feeling in the next few moments. Looking out the windows of the patio, you saw him. Walking oddly through the crowd to the front doors. You knew this was going to be some sort of confrontation, but honestly you didn’t think that far ahead of what you would be saying or doing. Sensing some heating tension between your ex and the hostess, you found yourself frozen to your spot. He was just supposed to come in, say his name and be escorted over, what was going on? The hostess knew what to do, so why was tension rising? “Hotch..” you whispered, trying to get his attention. You heard a very quiet “don’t move”, before seeing your ex flash a gun hidden in his waistband. If you weren’t frozen before, you sure were by now. He hadn’t seen you yet, which was good. Maybe they’ll get to him before he gets to you. Slowly standing up from your seat with no intention to do anything but drop dead, you felt yourself taking a step towards him. You didn’t know why but something inside you told you that this whole thing was a mistake, and whatever was about to happen was your own fault, and you needed to stop it. You could talk to him and calm him down, that’s what your whole relationship was based on anyway. He just needed to be with you, and he would stop the hostility. 

As you were taking your third step in his direction, Hotch stepped in front of you, holding out the side of his jacket to stop your ex from seeing you. You felt his other arm ghost around your waist, his cologne seeping into the dress you borrowed. “Don’t let him see me..” you whispered. “I won’t let him do anything to you, y/n”. You let Hotch take the lead and guide you into the kitchen, out of harm's way. You didn’t realize you were quietly crying until you were standing against the cool tile wall, and Hotch brushed a tear away with his thumb. He went to leave, presumably to help arrest the man who was going to kill you. Before he could take another step, you grabbed his hand more forcefully than you thought you had the strength to. “Please, don’t leave me”. Hotch saw the pleading look in your eyes, and leaned into his phone, “take care of it, Morgan”. You let yourself quietly cry against the wall, facing Hotch. You were so incredibly embarrassed, this was all your fault. You should have realized who your stalker was immediately and squashed this whole problem by yourself. The fact that someone was being arrested right now because of you, made you sick. Sure, it was in order to keep you safe, but you still felt like a burden. The FBI shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t have happened. 

Hotch couldn’t bring himself to just stand there and watch you fall apart, so he put his arms around you, gently squeezing you enough to make you feel present. You let yourself get your tears on his uniform, it was just something else to apologize for later. You almost collapsed, having all this mental weight pulling you down to the ground. Before you could fall, Hotch steadied you, pressing you against the wall in his hug to get you more grounded. The feeling of the cold tile against the back of your neck helped center you. Hotch let you go slowly, testing to see if you would stay standing without him. It tore him up inside seeing cases like these, and yours was no different. Now letting you stand on your own, the two of you held eye contact. “Y/n, you are safe. You never have to see him again. He cannot hurt you. He can’t hurt you anymore”. It was like he was saying it to the both of you as a mantra, getting you to feel okay and safe, and to bring him back to reality. He wanted to keep you safe, to open every door for you and stop traffic for you. Bring you coffee whenever you asked and even when you didn’t. He wanted you to understand how important you were, and how this was not your fault. He knew you blamed yourself, he could see it in your face and in your tears. 

You weren’t crying anymore, but you were exhausted. You wanted Hotch to just pick you up and take you home, take you anywhere but here. There was something in his demeanor that made you feel like a flower next to him. This big FBI agent, holding you up against the wall making sure you don’t fall over. You were almost killed tonight and all you could think about was just how strong Hotch was. Not to mention how good he smelled. He moved his grip from around your shoulders, down to around your waist. He pulled you into another deep embrace, this one feeling more personal. You had your arms around him but under his jacket, letting it fall around the two of you. You pulled away at the same time, and you muttered a small “thank you”. 

He towered over you, and he still had a concerned look in his eyes. You could tell he wanted to say something, so you nodded to try and get it out of him. “We both know you are safe now. That man is going back to the police station to be processed as the criminal he is..” he stopped, but you knew he wasn’t finished. You let him breath before continuing, “y/n, you live alone and today your life was threatened. You deserve to sleep somewhere tonight where you do not have to worry about a single thing”. He was right. You wanted to stay awake all night, knowing the moment you’d step back into your apartment you’d feel like you were in a cage. Your parents lived just outside the city, maybe you could have a police escort. But it was so late, and you hated the idea of waking up your parents just to baby you tonight. You knew exactly where you wanted to be, but how can you ask an FBI agent to extend his duties into watching over you through the night? All these thoughts raced through your mind in the second it took Hotch to open his mouth again, “I have an idea but the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured into saying yes, or scaring you off”. Now you were interested, the evening seemed to be playing out in your favour afterall. He continued, “y/n, the team and I are staying at the hotel downtown. I would be more than happy to pull some strings, and say we need an extra room for the night. We leave in the morning, but you’d be on a floor filled with FBI agents”. You accepted the offer maybe a little quickly, but thankfully he wasn’t put off with your enthusiasm. You leaned in again and held his suit collar, “thank you, Hotch. All I want is to feel safe tonight”. Looking up at him, a million thoughts crossed your mind all at once. You wanted to hire this man as your personal bodyguard. With the look you saw in his eye, he might even say yes. The next few moments were only seconds apart, but they felt like an eternity. Hotch placed his hands around your jaw, tilting your head up towards him. He looked at you with ocean’s in his eyes and whispered again like you were the only two in the entire building, “I can keep you safe, y/n”, before leaning in and giving you a kiss so grounding you swore he had you in the palm of his hand. 

“Guys, we’re good let’s head back - “ Morgan cut himself off when he saw Hotch removing his hands from you. Hotch cleared his throat, “y/n will be staying at the hotel with us tonight. I don’t think it would be wise for her to go back home alone”. You were hoping Morgan couldn’t see you holding on to Hotch’s forearm like your life depended on it. He got the idea, and the 3 of you left in the SUV back downtown. 

Once you entered the lobby, the team went up to their rooms as Hotch took you to the front desk. He enquired about getting an extra room just for you, and the manager handed you your key for the night. Slowly making your way up to the shared floor, you started to digest all the events that happened during your day. You almost got lost in your own brain, but Hotch pulled you back out when he placed his hand on the small of your back with confidence, leading you out into the hallway. You found your room, just a couple door’s down from where Hotch said he was. You were excited to be staying in a fancy hotel, even for just one night. As much as you wanted Hotch to come in with you, you knew he was technically still at work. But once again as if he could read your mind, Hotch was the one to open your door and see you inside safely. You took in your room. It was gorgeous with a king bed and a view for days. Putting your things down on the bed, you looked to Hotch, who seemed to be fidgeting slightly. He had been so confident in front of you all day, what was making him act like that?

“Is there anything else you need? I’d be happy to get anything-”, “thank you Hotch, really. But I have everything that I need right here in this room”. You gave him another soft smile, and you went to see him out. Your door was still closed, and Hotch was reaching to open it. He turned back around to you without realizing how close you were standing behind him. “If you change your mind, I’m just a couple doors down. I don’t sleep much, so it won’t be hard to get me”. You thought to yourself and spoke, “actually, I don’t sleep much either. I’ve had insomnia since I was a child”. 

“Really?” he asked you, returning a smirk. “Really”, you offered. You moved around him and leaned against the door, wanting to continue the conversation. Hotch took another guess at what you wanted, and he slowly pressed himself against your small frame, holding you in place. You let out a small sigh, showing him you didn’t mind at all. He took your waist in his hands for the second time that evening, and placed his lips against yours. He kissed you so softly and so gently, you thought you were going to float away. And his grip on you said he felt the same way. Digging his fingers harder into your waist asking permission to deepen the kiss, you granted him access. You opened your mouth to heat the moment, and Hotch was thrilled. He was pressing you into the door like he was afraid you’d otherwise fall through the floor. You were on your tiptoes kissing him and he wouldn’t let you feel any of your weight. You were completely pinned, and you loved it. You felt so secure between him and the door, knowing you were not going anywhere without him guiding you there first. He was protecting you with everything he could, never allowing you to go more than a split second without having his mouth on you. 

If the two of you couldn’t sleep, you wouldn’t mind being pinned all night long. Hotch was huge, towering over you from the moment you met. But he had the softest eyes you’d ever seen. He was kissing you like it was keeping you alive, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. You were gripping his shirt in your fists, seeing what he would allow you to do under his restrictions. He let you run your hands all over him, encouraging him to do the same to you. The two of you broke away at the same time for air. He looked down at you like you could break if he said the wrong thing. “If this is helping at all, I can stay longer if you need me-” you answered the lame question with a sloppy kiss on his neck, “Hotch, please stay with me”. With that, he gathered you in his arms and brought you to the bed.

_______________________

should i do a part 2?? 

[ha-hatdog]

daisuke kambe hcs

- what is it like to be dating daisuke kambe/domestic life with daisuke kambe

i hope you don't mind but i slapped two requests together because they were nearly similar. since i am making one post with two requests, i'll try to make this longer. i hope you enjoy this

requested by anon (i just turned my anon ask and i'll just go ahead and presume you want to be anon hehe sorry about that) : Hi, I saw your post. 😳 I just wanna say goodluck to your writing! and I'll be looking forward to them in the future. ❤ (Your anon asks aren't on btw. 😔) And for the request, it can be a headcanon or a short fic/scenario, whichever you like. :3 But can I please get soft/domestic Daisuke to his s/o (which is the reader)? Like, they're taking care of each other stuff. ❤👁👄👁

uwu thank you so much and i look forward to writing more stories for you

requested by @holdmejk : what it’s like to date daisuke 🥺

i wonder too how it would be like to date this rich man so here ya go

__

haru kato is the simple man, simple life

there is no way daisuke kambe can be considered the same. this is the very reason why haru hates the man with a burning passion

waking up with daisuke goes two ways - the normal soft wake up, or the after sex wake up

if you wake up normally, you will always find yourself on his chest, a hand over the small of your back and the other behind your head, pressing you close to him as if you were his leverage to the real world

you never get tired of seeing him peaceful and cute that you kiss him everywhere your lips can touch - his chest, his cheek, his nose, his forehead, but never his lips

daisuke loves waking up to your kisses but what really gets rid of his sleepiness is the annoyance he felt that you never kiss him on the lips

he will lift his head up from the pillow while holding your head and lean forward to capture your lips. no, he doesn't care about morning breath, he cares about your kisses

if you two had sex the night before, it's a different story because it's daisuke who always wakes up first this time around because you know, he tired the hell out of you

he runs his fingers through your matted tresses as the side of his head rested against his open palm, elbow proped up on his pillow

he loves how you look so happy and satisfied and peaceful. he admires your beauty silenty, a small smile on his lips

he'll try to go another round because he can't help himself when you look so enticing but you stop him because you were already so tired

you will drown in luxurious things. this daisuke kambe we are talking about. what did you expect?

you want it? you got it. you like it? you got it. you need it? you got it. your eyes looked at it a second too long? you got it

daisuke believes you deserve the best of the best so whatever you wanted, bam, something much better

flowers? you get a garden. chocolate? you get a factory. movies? you get a theater. cup noodles? you get a ramen shop or the actual cup noodles company. dress? you get your own clothing line that trumps over versace and gucci

oh you think you can stop daisuke from spoiling you just because you begged him and showed him your big doe eyes? he was tempted for sure but there is no way he'll be holding back, especially after seeing your big doe eyes (yup, that plan backfired)

one hard thing about dating a millionaire? you can't buy anything for him

you do not have the money to lavish him the same, and even if you did, it's stupid to assume daisuke can't afford the same things you plan on buying for him. maybe he'll buy something even better

so instead of spoiling him like he does to you, you buy him trinkets that remind you of him

daisuke has no clue as to why items could remind you of him but he still keeps everything you buy for him close to him like in his office so he can always see them

you bought daisuke a goofy looking bobble head and he put it on the dashboard of his super cool looking car and haru was like the hell is that

daisuke sped through the streets before haru could make a comment

daisuke trust you more than anyone. more than suzue, more than haru, more than himself, more than his credit card

that being said, you are the only one he allows to patch him up after a particularly rough day at work

he will literally drive all the way to your shared home while bleeding out, enter your shared room as more blood trailed his face and deadass say "Can you help me? My head is bleeding"

you scold him for being so reckless and for always giving you a heart attack whenever he comes home in that condition

he doesn't mind being lectured tho because he still gets to feel your soft touches and gets lots and lots of kisses from you

he doesn't get why you kiss his wounds after patching him up. like his wounds are dirty? it still hurts? what was the science behind it? he still won't get it even if you explain it to him but he'll take note for reference

when you get injured, you are obligated to tell daisuke that you are not severely hurt that he had to call the hospitals all around the world to come heal you

you had to snatch the phone from him at one point when he tried to contact professional surgeons from america after you scratched yourself from a bush

daisuke at least knows how to use the first aid kit and no matter how little your injury may be, he will always proceed with the basics because he's very worried about you (though his face doesn't show it), that your small wound would get infected, and then you'll be on your death bed saying your last words, and then he's kneeling on your grave -

you had no idea this is what goes on inside his head every time you get injured

he also kisses your wounds after patching them up. he still doesn't understand the reason as to why you and others do it, but he does it because you do it

daisuke doesn't allow you to move a muscle aftee he's done fixing your wounds. he acts as if you have a terminal disease and would check on you every five minutes when he's working at home and calls you every three minutes when doing police work (haru gets annoyed with that habit so you had a talk with him)

dates with daisuke is far from simple. you either go to the most expensive resorts or attractions in japan or you're going out of the country. yes, your dates are basically mini vacations

so that's the reason why whenever you two want to spend time together, you are in charge. you can't always go to malaysia and england every weekend. plausible when you're with daisuke but you're not having it

you try to make your dates as simple as it can be. like what regular couples would do like going to movies (he was irritated because he had to sit near other people because he only wants to be near you), hanging out in the mall ("No, Daisuke, don't you dare buy that Gucci bag for me, I just glanced at it - oh for fuck sake"), and eating food from stands (Daisuke was confused like where will you two sit so you can eat your food properly?)

you two went ice skating and you guided him as he wobbled on his skates. you never let go of him because the first time you let go of him so he can try to balance alone in the ice, he looked very worried and made grabby hands at you

he becomes better at skating after doing it so many times. you were a little jealous because he's better than you now

daisuke his whole life always had a professional chef make something for him and when he began dating you, he also began inviting other professional chefs to make something for you two

but as your relationship grew stronger, you began cooking for him and you made him feel so special and he couldn't react properly

sometimes he watches you cook and helps with the cutting (you stopped him when he cut himself), but most of the time he's at his office and you bring his food to him and he scolrs you because he wants to eat properly with you ay the dining table

bringing food to his office is a no no. eating together at the dining table and sharing stories together is a yes yes

you don't know if the food you make for him is good or bad to be honest because he always has a deadpan face and if it is bad he won't tell because he'll hurt your precious little feelings but he'll be blunt as hell if it was another person

don't even wish that daisuke will cook for you. don't get him wrong tho, he really wants to but he's been pampered a little too much that he can't distinguish onion from garlic. he just thinks garlic is an elderly onion lmao

so yeah, daisuke cannot cook

but he likes cleaning the dishes with you because he can spray you with water and he'll hear your giggles. you always break many plates when you clean dishes and always drenched in water after your little fight

having the same authority with his AI. you rarely use the AI unless absolutely necessary and you can communicate with daisuke through it. you always mess with daisuke and you'll say something to the AI like "dial haru" and AI will go like "contacting haru kato" daisuke will go "cancel dial" and then AI says "cancelling contact" and you'll say "dial haru again" and the cycle goes on

late night walks are common for you two. when he comes home earlier than he originally does, he will insist you to take a walk on his private property and if he's feeling extra generous, he'll let you take him outside and to the park or something

you can take him to the convenience, the gas station, the prison - as long as he's with you, he's fine

stargazing is part of the late night walks. he'll point at a star and you'll say what constallesation that star was part of

"do you want that star"

"no daisuke"

"i can buy it"

"you are not buying a star"

daisuke : (꒪-꒪) ⇨(¬､¬)

he loves kissing you on the lips. your lips and kisses were just so addicting and sweet that he can't find another better place to kiss you

plus your blush is too adorable. he smirks whenever you get flustered. add a soft embrace to the mix, and his heart melts

daisuke will always open the door for you. in cars, in restaurants (he'll pull your chair for you too), in anywhere

he won't let you open a door as long he's there with you cause he's a simp for you

he won't care about any other person trying to enter an establishment after you enter. he'll let go of the door handle and won't even turn if he hears a loud thump behind him

you know what else he loves? hand holding. daisuke always holds your hand whenever you're outside and will only let go if absolutely necessary like going to the comfort room

he likes playing with your fingers while you love tracing the lines on his palm. you'll probably make a cheesy joke that you can see him marrying you in his future and he goes ( ºΔº )

"how do you know i was planning to marry you?" ( ºΔº ) "can you really read palms?"

you always massage each other because stress. when you massage him, he'll let out small mewls that just makes you go omg so cute but when he massages you - he will whip out the best of best stuff for massage

he will play relaxing music for you. you fall asleep whenever daisuke massages you because he's just so good with his hands

you know what else those hands are good for? touching your body in places that'll make you blush but he mostly especially likes cupping your butt because he thinks its so cute

you don't try to do the same because last time you did, you couldn't walk the day after. don't seduce daisuke if you're not prepared for a pounding

you like grocery shopping with daisuke. sure you can always order someone else to do it or you can make use of shopping as a time to bond with each other

you two work out together. daisuke is a boxer and learning that, you begged him to teach you to box but he didn't because what if he hurts you and instead, taught you how to workout and how to defend yourself

he wanted to test out if his self defense lessons were truly learned so he hired someone to pretend to steal something from you

he learned that his self defense lessons was fruitful because the man he hired came back with bruises and such

when daisuke admitted, he slept on the couch for an entire week

in your birthday, you woke up feeling nervous because it's your birthday - meaning daisuke must be up to some expensive shit

then you realized you're not in your bedroom. it was a completely different bedroom

you were scared honestly and you thought you were kidnapped until daisuke comes into your room wearing his beach wear and his shades while holding two coconuts with straws

"happy birthday. welcome to hawaii, my love"

HOW DID HE BRING YOU THERE WITHOUT WAKING YOU UP

you're just very tired the previous night after some fun activities with daisuke if you know what i mean wink wonk you wouldn't wake up no matter how many times you tried

suzue adores you because daisuke smiles more with you and you're best friends uwu so cuteeee

will always be your peace maker whenever you and daisuke fight. she ships you two. her ship cannot sink

suzue: "just hug it out now. hug it out - I SAID HUG DON'T MAKE OUT YOU TWO ARE GOING TOO FAST"

daisuke loves head pats. he wants them all the time. ruffle ruffle his hair. his eyes will close whenever you pat his head

he only wants you to pat his head. anybody else is a no no. maybe suzue but mostly just you

he lets you get all the groceries while he pushes the cart. he doesn't know the brands he sees on the shelves so he depends on you all the time

there's another reason he likes holding hands with you - he doesn't get lost. there was this time when he got lost because you let go of him and someone called you in the intercom and when you went there, you saw daisuke waiting for you with crossed arms and a balloon and its string around his wrist

the person at service said he was frowning the whole time you were gone and so they gave him a balloon but all he did was frown while playing with the balloon. he's mad because he got lost, you were gone, and you let go of his hand

you two are opposite of haru and his girlfriend in grocery shopping

you love it when his hair is down because he's so cute? can a man really be cute and hot at the same time?

the first you saw him with his hair down, you swooned and coddled him and since then, daisuke makes it his point to put his hair down more often now

taking baths together is just as great as massages. shower? you're not some commoner peasant. you use a very large bathtub

you relax with daisuke in the bathtub with bubbles and wine and sometimes he read you a poem from the poetry book he brings at times

you two always go to bathe together. but if you feel like you wanna bathe alone, daisuke will get all pouty aww and sulk aww

he will sit at the toilet seat and stare at you and when he does this, you can't hold yourself back anymore because he's too adorable and just let him join you with a sigh. he's with you in the bathtub in seconds

but if you don't, he'll leave the bathroom after a while and poke his head at the door, staring at you, as if saying this is your last chance and if you still don't allow him, there is a good chance you'll find him sulking on your bed while lying down, back facing you

just cuddle with him, he'll be fine

haru still doesn't believe daisuke got someone like you as his girlfriend because you're so kind and down to earth and you're dating this rich bastard like whaaaat

you try to make haru see the good qualities of daisuke and every single time you do, daisuke does something to piss him off

you made it your personal mission to experience the regular life of a human being without an unlimited balance

daisuke allows you to style his hair whenever you two sit on the couch. any hairstyles, any accessories, he's open so long your soft fingers are on his hair

you have always wanted a dog and begged daisuke for one but he did not relent, saying it was too much work and although it hurts to see you sad, he had to be strong

this is the only thing and time he said no to you and i'm pretty sure you heard haru scream in horror at the distance in disbelief

then one day you and him were walking down a street when a small puppy trotted up to you two wagging its tail and barking happily at you

you bent down and patted it, cooing and daisuke is wary of that small adorable pup. will it bite you? surely the pup has some common sense

you scooped the pup up and it licked your face and you were laughing and daisuke just has a sudden realization - who looked cuter? you or the puppy? or perhaps you made each other cuter?

daisuke rejected the puppy when you tried giving it to him but you forced it into his arms. daisuke and the pup kinda just stared at each other for a long time. you honestly thought you broke both of them until daisuke kissed the forehead of the puppy, hesitantly but softly

you were shooked (you swore you can hear haru screaming again)

daisuke couldn't help himself. something about the puppy just reminded him of you. it's those puppy eyes

"we need to find its owner, daisuke"

"no"

you told him he cannot buy the puppy because the owner must be worried sick

but it turned out it was a stray lil pup and you adopted her

now daisuke comes home to see you sleeping on the couch waiting for him with the pup in your arms. his heart melts every time

his small little family

for now

Daisuke Kambe let out an exhausted sigh as he parked his car in the garage. His hair was tousled, eyelids dropping, and jacket discarded on the passenger seat beside him. The case earlier has proven difficult than the previous ones he had taken. The criminal was harder to catch with his agility and athletic abilities, and was not easily persuaded when beckoned by cash. Not to mention his partner has been rebuking him the whole time, ranting about how justice workes and how money does not solve everything - basically, the usual. He was extremely fatigued, and all he wanted to do was wash up and go to bed with his beloved in his arms.

A tired smile broke his bland visage at the thought of you. The only reason he hasn't decided to spend the night at a hotel was because you weren't there. The faster he moves, the faster he can get to bed with you. Oh, he can't wait to see you and that little puppy of yours and his.

He exited the car, jacket draped over his shoulder. He sluggishly went to the front door and entered. As he delved further into his mansion, he was immediately greeted by a lovely sight. Your slumbering figure was laid out on the couch, the newly adopted puppy curling near your chest and resting with you. Warmth swaddled his heart and his eyes softened. All of a sudden, the exhaustion he felt has vanished, and all he could do was admire this masterpiece before him. You were waiting for him again.

As much as he wanted to see you like this longer, he couldn't let you sleep on the couch. There's a much more comfortable bed waiting for you upstairs. He approached you with quiet footsteps. The puppy perked up, her superb hearing picking up the sound of his advancement. Daisuke knelt down and stroked her head. "Good evening, Chico." Then he turned to you. You looked so peaceful - parted lips, even breathing. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek, smiling a small smile when you shifted. "Good evening, love."

You let out a yawn as you rubbed your eyes, body shuffling. "Daisuke?" You groaned out. "Is that you?"

Daisuke knew you couldn't see him but he nodded anyway. "You don't have to keep waiting for me like this, you know."

To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled yourself closer to his body. "But I want to. And I missed you." You yawned through your statement as you nuzzled your head on his neck. "You still smell good after being outside the whole day. How unfair."

Daisuke let out a chuckle. "Come on. Let's get you to bed." He stood up easily even with your form carried in his arms. Chico jumped out of the couch at the same time and followed Daisuke as he carried you upstairs to your shared room, lying you down carefully on the bed. Daisuke made an attempt to withdraw from the withholding grapple of your arms around his neck but his endeavor was less then proliferant as you have established a stronger hold on him, unrelenting.

Daisuke let out a sigh as he tried to adjust from the uncomfortable stance he was positioned in. "I need to change first, Y/N." Badgered Daisuke, hands resting on your back.

Yet his words did no preclude you and you merely shook your head in response. "No," Your eyes shone with defiance, pout manifesting on your lips. "Stay."

"I'll come back in a few, love. I can't sleep in my work clothes." Insisted Daisuke, resolve crumbling the more he looked into your eyes.

"I don't care. Just stay." You grumbled.

Sometimes Daisuke sometimes wondered just how much power you had over him. He couldn't say no to you, apart for that one time when you asked if you two could get a puppy. Looking back at it, he felt guilty that he did not allow you two to have a dog earlier but if it wasn't for his stubborness, you wouldn't have come across Chico.

Speaking of the little puppy, it had successfully jumped on the bed and let out a merry howl. Distracted by the new development of the young dog, you were able to pull Daisuke down on the space beside you and did not think twice before snuggling to his side, arms embracing him tightly as you grinned happily, a happy giggle exiting your lips. You rubbed your head on his shoulders, sighing contentedly. "You're staying here with us."

Daisuke looked down at your beaming face and looked away, redness tinting his cheeks. "If it can't be helped." He stated, but he knew he made his choice the moment you had told him to stay.

Daisuke slowly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, and you willingly accepted his affection. You were so warm, so loving. How did he ever find you?

And then came the cloud of exhaustion. His eyelids gradually drooped over his sockets, his strength withering every second that had gone by until the last thing he saw before sleep overcame him was you and a bounding Chico burying herself in between the two of you.

[nights-legacy]

Big Heart=Trouble. Kirishima Eijiro

   Help and Hide Series. Kiri Edition

  Bakugo Ed.  Denki Ed.  Todoroki Ed.  Midoriya Ed.  Shinso Ed.  Iida Ed.  Aizawa Ed.   Tamaki Ed.   Hawks Ed.  Dabi Ed.  Shiggy Ed.

       + You had a big heart that much was evident to anyone. Sometimes that big heart got you in trouble. Naturally you always wanted to help people, hence joining the Hero Course at UA. One day, you did get in trouble just innocently helping someone being bullied and couldn’t help yourself afterwards. Your quirk couldn’t match theirs in the moment and you ran for help. Finding your help and hiding spot with Kirishima, the loveable rock.

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

      Sometimes being the nice person can really bite you in the ass. Be nice to the wrong person and you could have a couple things be the result. One, nothing could happen. Two, you could be seen as a bad person. And three, it could turn whatever was happening on you. That third bit happened a lot to me.

       “L/N! Uraraka and I are going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?” Su asked me. I looked up from my book and shook my head.

       “Thanks but I am okay. Have fun!” I waved as they jogged off. I looked up at the clear sky and closed my eyes. I sighed in content. It was nice day of refreshment at the park after the long, tiring days we have had lately. A lot of training and gloomy, dark days on top of it are not fun mixes.

       “Can you believe it?” I heard Midoriya yell in excitement. I cracked my eyes open and looked to my left to see him and Todoroki lounging in the grass a few feet from me. Midoriya was fanboying over something again and Todoroki was just watching him amused, head resting on his hand as he laid on his stomach.

       “Adorable.” I whispered and turned back forward. Kiri and Bakugo were playing a rough game of catch while Sero and Mina were huddled around Kaminari looking at something on his phone. My gaze lingered on Kiri as he smiled wide at his friends. As if feeling my gaze, he turned and caught my gaze. He smiled wide again before winking. I blushed and looked down smiling. He is such a flirt.

      Others that decided to join us were scattered around the park. I was just about to go back to my book when a distressed voice caught my attention. I looked up, searching for the source when I saw a woman and a man walking deeper into the park and the woman looked distressed. I immediately got up and followed, not liking the feeling I got from seeing them.

      “Please, just let me go.”

      “No! I want your money. Now!” The man yelled and I heard the woman whimper. A pang hit my heart and I sped up. I turned around a corner and saw the man pinning the woman and holding her at the mercy of his quirk. A hand to blade quirk it looked like. Something my vegetation quirk would have little effect on.

      “Hey!” I yelled. Both of their heads whipped towards me. “Let her go.” I said firmly. The man just laughed at me.

      “Get lost little girl. This has nothing to do with you. Run along.” He turned his attention back to the woman while she looked at me fearfully.

      “I said…” I started, lifting my hand. He side eyed me. “Let her go.” I repeated but this time punctuated my statement with the flash of vines tangling around the man’s blade arm. I moved my arm yanking him off the woman. “Go!” The woman ran. She went by me, thanking me and I watch as see runs out of sight. I turn back when I heard the sound of him cutting the vines.

      “You little…” The man growled before charging at me. I dodged his attacks and continued to use my quirk to little avail. Knowing he was getting angrier and closer, I did one last hit before retreating. I ran through the trees purposely. I heard him yelling but I lost him, for now. I leant against a tree to catch my breath.

      “L/N?” I heard Kiri call out. “You out here?”

      “Kiri!” I called back. I finally heard the man coming up on me again. I run in the direction I heard the sharp toothed red head. I snuck a peak behind me only to run into something hard.

      “Woah there! What’s the rush…”

      “Shh!” I shushed him before pulling him with me. He questioned me until he heard the yelling behind me. He let me pull him to the tree line opening into the park clearing. I ran to the spot where his stuff was at and grab his blanket. I stopped and pulled him down with me to sit at the base of a tree. I pulled the blanket over our shoulders.

      “What?” He looked at me confused but let me do whatever. In the corner of me eye, I saw the man come into the clearing looking around frantically. He deactivated his quirk but came our way. I yelped a little before grabbing his arm and maneuvering it around my shoulder.

      “Please just… go with it!” I said, eyes still locked on the man. He followed my gaze and spotted him. I set my head on his shoulder and pulled the blanket higher.

      Kiri finally understood my discomfort and took if one step further. He moved and pulled my into his side tighter and propped his knees up in front of us. He reached up and moved my head further into his neck before leaning his head on top of mine. He cuddled into me and I blushed.

      “Little bitch.” The man got closer and I turned my head to nuzzle into Kiri’s neck. He held me tighter. Just as the man got within a few feet of us, Kiri seemed to have another idea. He gently grabbed my chin and moved my head to kiss me softly. I made a surprised sound but fell into it easily. He moved slightly in front of me and held me tight.

      “Kiri.” I whispered as he pulled away so we could breathe. We looked each other in the eyes longingly before moving in for another kiss. This kiss was more than the last. That’s all I could describe it as, more. We only pulled away when someone yelled.

      “That’s him!” We pulled away and saw the woman with two police officers. I smiled as they arrested the man. “Where is she?”

      “Who?” One of the policeman asked.

      “The girl that helped me. There was a young girl with a vegetation quirk that helped me. I wanted to thank her.” Kiri turned to me and raised an eyebrow. I just smiled before looking back at them. The police escorted the man away as the woman stayed, looking around. She seems to give up with a huff before smiling at nothing.

      “You and your big heart.” He said while leaning back against the tree with me still pulled into his side.

      “What can I say? I like helping people.” His head fell back in exasperation.

      “I know and there’s nothing wrong with it. You just have a bad habit of getting into trouble on days where you are supposed to be RELAXING.” He put emphasis on the last word before pecking my nose. I froze before blushing and touching the tip of my nose.

      “Eep.” I accidentally let out the sound of excitement.

      “Oh? What was that little pebble?” Kiri teased. I looked up at him wide-eyed. He gave me a toothy grin before gently kissing me again. The only thing that pulled us apart we the sound of the snap of a phone camera. We looked and saw Kami and Mina sitting by us with Kami’s phone pointed towards us. Bakugo and Sero were standing a few feet behind them.

      “You guys are cute!” Kami yelled.

      “Are you two dating now?” Mina suddenly asked. Kiri stalled for a second before looking at me in question. We looked at each other for a second before I smiled and nodded the slightest bit. He smiled wide and kissed me forehead.

      “Yep.” Kiri answered.

      “About damn time you damn extras. I was getting real tired of your relentless pining for each other.” Bakugo exclaimed before turning to walk away. I blushed and hid my face in Kiri’s neck. They all laughed and I heard another snap of the camera.

      “Get lost you jerks.” Kiri laughed before cuddling into me again.

[ushidoux]

Look at Me, Senpai - Hinata x Reader x Daichi

Summary: Reader starts to see Hinata in a different light once he returns from Brazil. It turns out Hinata’s inability to give up isn’t just something restricted to the court. (~3.6k words)

Warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, infidelity, a touch of the yandere

A/N: This got really long so I split it in half lmfao, expect part 2 in a couple of days.

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

Senpai, I like you.

As you continued to sit courtside, watching Karasuno’s team overtake the opposition led by your boyfriend Daichi Sawamura, your eyes briefly settled on Hinata, the orange-haired first year. When the ball finally sailed over to him, and he hit it with an inhuman speed, the middle blocker’s signature, you thought briefly about his frank and surprisingly serious confession earlier in the day. How bold! You hadn’t taken it seriously of course - your affection towards him was nothing short of motherly. Plus, he was well aware of how serious you were about Daichi. 

What an odd joke, you thought, but you had played along with it despite the fact that you knew he meant what he said, dismissing him with a laugh and a pat on the head.

I like you too, Hinata! You’re very fun to be around!

His smile had only wavered slightly at your words but you could feel his eyes get just a little darker as the twang of rejection set in.

But he was just a baby and this was just puppy love. He’d get over it eventually, right? He’d eventually find someone his own age. 

Suddenly across the court, you could feel Hinata’s gaze fall on you again, and he smiled again, but this time it was different. Maybe it was bleed over from the boundless confidence and determination he had whenever he stepped on the court, but something about the way his eyes flashed just for a moment as he looked at you made your face grow just a little bit warm.

[Years pass.]

“So when’s the wedding?!” 

Your grandmother’s voice blared through the phone in raucous joy as you laughed and tried to field her many follow-up questions. She, like almost everyone else you had told, was incredibly excited about your proposal, and despite the fact that it was only three days later, the high was already starting to fade and you were getting tired of answering the same questions.

When’s the wedding? Where’s the wedding? How excited are you? Are you already pregnant? Are you going to move into a house? 

Between your grandmother, your parents and siblings, your wonderful friends, your neighbors - honestly, literally everyone and their mother - you were feeling incredibly supported during this time. But still, somehow, something felt wrong, and you couldn’t exactly place why. 

Once you had finally answered Grandma’s questions to her satisfaction, you hung up the phone and flopped backwards back into your bed with a sigh. Holding up one hand in front of you to display your engagement ring, you inspected the stone carefully, letting it glimmer in the slowly fading sunlight beaming in through your bedroom window. 

“Mrs. Sawamura,” you tried out the name in a soft whisper. It had a nice sound to it,  ____ Sawamura. This was what you had always wanted, ever since you had met and started dating in high school. You’d always wanted to support his dreams, whether it was excelling at schoolwork, volleyball, joining the police force… and what better way to do it by agreeing to be his wife and spending the rest of your life with him? So many years had passed with you by his side, this was only the next natural step.

So what exactly was this reticence inside of you? You knew he would be good to you, no matter what, even if you felt that something about your relationship had already started to lose its spark. He had been working longer days and later nights, leaving very little time for you, and with all this time left alone, sometimes you regretted not having spent more time in high school or even later on making friends outside of those people he knew. The problem was that the volleyball team was so warm from the start, and you were so invested in caring for them as Daichi was… maybe this was some form of delayed empty nest syndrome, solidifying as the members all grew up and grew apart.

You checked the time on the small wall clock before you. Daichi wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours, and again you couldn’t fault him for this. The ring on your finger looked quite expensive, so he’d clearly worked hard to afford it.

Maybe you would draw.

Minutes passed, maybe even an hour, and as the sun finally set, you set down your pencil and reached over to your window to close the curtains so that the neighbors couldn’t peer into your home once you turned on the lights. Clicking on the bedside lamp, you settled back into a cross-legged position before your large sketchbook again, now taking a second look at your drawing.

An ordinary but hyper realistic-looking crow now peered back at you, almost as if it were wondering why you had decided on putting it to paper out of all the things that could have come to mind. You looked at it carefully and remembered a single fact about crows:

Crows never forget a face.

---

The next morning was Sunday and Daichi was fortunately off work for the day so you sat with your new fiancé at the kitchen table, listening to him talk excitedly about the week as the two of you shared a large omelette and munched on toasted bread.

“Honestly, you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I see, babe, it’s really something.”

His laugh was always hearty and you couldn’t deny the sparkle in his brown eyes as he shared work shenanigans with you, so while you were uncomfortable with the idea of him being in harm’s way so often as a police officer, you couldn’t help but smile with him whenever he did. His happiness was infectious, especially when he held your hand tightly and squeezed it just like this very moment, interlocking his fingers with yours as he ate with his other hand.

Once he finished eating, he leaned over to kiss you on the forehead, threading his fingers through your hair. 

“Thanks for breakfast, baby,” he whispered, his voice smooth and lowered an octave. With his gaze, he drank up the image of you only in his oversized t-shirt and panties before pulling you towards him so that you straddled his hips as he sat on the chair. With you pressed close to him like this, between his hardening cock and the edge of the table, you could feel your breath hitch ever so slightly in your throat. Years had passed and you were still like this - you were still the shy, bashful girl who dared to date the captain of the volleyball team. 

“Daichi…,” you trailed off, as he started to litter soft kisses on your collarbones.

“Do you want to uh…,” he paused and pulled back, a smile spreading across his features, as one of his hands found its way up your shirt to palm your breast, “... start off our morning right?”

 He didn’t bother waiting for your reply before his lips met yours for dessert.

---

Parted thighs and many soft sighs later, the two of you lay side by side in pleasant exhaustion. You stared at the ceiling, your cheeks flushed as you pulled air into your overworked lungs. Daichi’s head found its way to rest in the softness of your abdomen and you languidly caressed his hair, your body still buzzing from lovemaking. 

Daichi was clearly apologizing for passing out the moment he came home, you knew, and you appreciated his thoughtfulness. As you continued to softly scratch his scalp, the soft glow of the late morning sun warmed the two of you up even further and you knew that this feeling had to be what ballads were all about.

Love. 

You loved Daichi. Right?

His fingers traced up and down your thighs, just barely avoiding the dampness of him releasing inside you just moments earlier slowly leaking from your center.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, as his fingers traveled your skin. He always told you this, reminded you were the most wonderful girl in the world. 

And he was the most wonderful man on Earth. How incredible it was that you had found each other, you thought, as you lay together for what felt like hours and found yourself dozing off in each other’s embrace. 

Yes, this was enough.

---

“You don’t have to go all out babe, it’s just the guys!” Daichi’s loud voice carried from outside the bathroom as you perfected your mascara. You ignored him with a playful roll of the eye even though you couldn’t see him, focusing on perfecting a winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man. It had been a while since you had dressed up, and it didn’t hurt to really go all out. This was a sort of mini-reunion anyway and what better way to make your fiancé proud than to make all his friends jealous?

“I thought you said I was pretty this morning,” you called out, as you dabbed perfume behind your ears and at the center of your chest. “Don’t you want everyone else to know?”

With that you posed dramatically at the end of the hallway, cat-walking with a face so straight it was ridiculous until you reached Daichi who stood at the front of your door, holding in a laugh. You burst into laughter once you reached him, falling into his chest.

“Let’s go see your old team!” You said, quickly pushing him away playfully when his eager hands settled too comfortably on your ass. He nodded, deciding to grab your hand instead as your cab approached.

Your car ride was short and your mind started to wander as you idly rubbed the knuckles of Daichi’s hand with your thumb. You remembered him telling you vaguely about one of his teammates returning to Japan, prompting the reunion, the orange-haired one named Hinata who you recalled was nothing short of a ball of sunshine and had confessed to you once.

Senpai, I like you.

Well, he would probably have gotten over that crush by now. It had been years.

The restaurant was loud when you entered, following Daichi closely. A table full of young men almost erupted in praise once the two of you approached.

“Captain!”

Tanaka, who you recognized easily from his shaved head and brash attitude came sailing over to essentially crush Daichi in a headlock, but before he could reach him, the orange-haired boy who had just graced your thoughts a couple of minutes earlier beat him to it, slapping him heartily on the back.

“You finally made it! Did you miss me?” Hinata said, with a grin and for a split second, you thought you saw his eyes flit to you. Without warning, your mind started to race, realizing that immediately your face had started to warm as you watched your goofy little underclassman with a crush talk and tease your fiancé animatedly- 

And to your dismay, you realized you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

---

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had you unsettled throughout the lively dinner - was it the fact that even though you sat by Kiyoko, the previous team manager, she seemed to be more focused on eating quietly, a smile on her face as she basked in the glory days with the boys? Or was it the fact that you could see Hinata’s rare but noticeable furtive glances towards you, the ones that Daichi seemed to miss now that he was more than a little drunk judging by how red he was in the face? Maybe it was the fact that you were trying to understand what was this sudden gravitational pull you felt towards Hinata at first glance, something that made very little sense to you and seemed oh-so-very-wrong.

Was it the fact that while he was still shorter than average for a volleyball player, his time in Brazil had tanned his skin nicely, bringing out the well toned muscles in his shoulders or arms? Or that while his eyes were still bright and kind, the angles in his face had grown sharper and his smile had made the very slight shift from determined to confident and almost even cocky? 

What the hell was it that had you suddenly so distracted?

You fiddled with the ring on your finger above the table between bites of grilled meat and poured sake, trying desperately to make small talk with Kiyoko, only to be disappointed by how unsuccessful you were in engaging yourself in meaningful conversation.

Eventually you decided to get up for some fresh air, giving Daichi a little nudge on the back to let him know you were stepping out and took a seat in a small chair set outside the chilly restaurant meant for smokers. It was nice to have a little more quiet, and you briefly pondered if Daichi would be okay with you going home first. 

Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and it was about to get way worse since it turned out that Hinata had followed you out.

“Heya!” Hinata’s voice startled you as he approached, quickly taking a seat beside you. Your face flushing for the second time today (you blamed it on the alcohol, of course), you eked out a hello, mentally shaming yourself for being so awkward.

“You were quiet in there...” 

“A-ah, yes! It’s just I haven’t really seen any of you guys in a while and we weren’t close, so it was a bit hard to follow the conversations…,” you trailed off, not making eye contact. You decided that a good way to politely add distance would be to re-introduce yourself even though you knew exactly who he was now, and you knew he remembered you. 

You stuck your hand out to greet him formally with a handshake.

“I don’t know if you still remember me but I’m ____ -”

“I know,” Hinata interrupted curtly, without looking directly at you and your hand fell to your side slowly and returned to your lap. He stared out at the street with his face unsmiling, a look that appeared almost unnatural for someone like him and then turned back to you to give you a wide smile anew.

“How have you been? I didn’t think I’d see you here again!” He was cheerful again and polite as always, but for a moment you felt mildly insulted, as though he’d implied that maybe he didn’t expect you to be with Daichi for this long.

Maybe you were just overreacting.

...

Yeah, you were just overreacting.

“Mmm, things have been great!” You replied earnestly, fiddling subconsciously with your engagement ring again, only to catch him laying eyes on it but making no comment. For some reason, you didn’t feel like it was worth mentioning either.

Silence sat between the two of you as you stared out into the road again together. Two strangers who’d known each other briefly. You wished he would go back in and the night would be over and you could forget the fact that you were suddenly attracted to him.

Ah, that was it. And that would be it.

Hinata spoke again and your heart thumped at his simple question, “Are you happy?”

You gave him a look of confusion but you could already tell what he meant just by the look in his eyes. The same look he gave his opponents on the court, the one that demanded to be taken seriously. 

While, it wasn’t exactly the same look that he gave you when you brushed his confession off those many years ago, it was pretty darn close.

“Y-yes?” You asked, feigning incomprehension. He smiled in response but not with his eyes.

“When’s the wedding?”

The shift of his tone back to excitement was jarringly unnatural, especially since you hadn’t even brought up your wedding, and now you wondered how one person could be confident enough to appear out of nowhere and ask bold questions to a complete stranger.

“I’m not sure yet… we haven’t planned yet.”

“Great!” He interjected suddenly, and rose to his feet. “I still have time!”

Time?

He turned to re-enter the restaurant as you looked at him in shock and incredulity. “Excuse me, time to do what?” You asked, immediately questioning why those words had come out of your mouth the moment they did.

Hinata turned to face you, his smile only mildly sinister when compared to the seriousness of his gaze.

“Time to convince you, of course. I've always liked you from the start, ___, and I think… actually I know that I can treat you better than Daichi does.”

And with that he turned the corner, re-entering the restaurant and leaving you in a complete and utter shock.

---

Who would believe you?

Sweet little Hinata threatening to break up your upcoming marriage? 

Sweet little Hinata planning to steal your heart right under his senpai’s nose? 

Sweet little Hinata texting you suddenly at 11pm the next day while you got ready for bed just to let you know that he was “thinking of you”?

You looked at the phone incredulously, your other hand still holding your toothbrush wondering how to best respond to the message. The obvious answer was to block his number - you weren’t exactly sure how he’d gotten it anyway, but as your finger hovered over the button, you paused.

Then Daichi turned the corner of your bathroom door and startled, you fumbled and dropped your phone.

“You okay, Shakes?” He joked, as he reached for your phone, but you grabbed it quickly, locking it and placing it facedown on the bathroom sink. You quickly nodded, continuing to brush rapidly.

“Can you believe he grew taller?”

Your eyes rose.

“H-he?”

Daichi laughed. “Hinata, of course. He was such a shrimp, remember? I mean he’s still not that tall, but he definitely looks a lot more like an adult, right?”

“Y-yeah…,” you agreed, sheepishly, as Daichi hopped into bed, leaving you to squirm at the sight of your own reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

---

The next morning, you woke up to no new messages on your phone and breathed a sigh of relief, assuming that your non-response had sent the point across to the young volleyball player. With that odd guilt now off your shoulders, you occupied yourself with the first steps of wedding planning, spending most of the day browsing through websites and calling companies. You were determined to do this mostly yourself and do it right.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were trying to prove but over the next couple of weeks, you dove headfirst into flowers and venues and elaborate table accents and fancy invitations and ignoring Hinata’s messages that had now upgraded to thirst traps that kept your eyes lingering on the phone way too long, while Daichi spent more and more time at work, and less and less time with you, until suddenly…

“Daichi!”

For the fourth night in a row, Daichi had come home in the middle of the night and wordlessly crawled into bed beside you as you tossed and turned waiting for him to come home, because that was all you did: waste time until he returned to you, of course. What else could you do? Your world was so small, after all.

And it would only get smaller once you got married. Your miniscule sphere of existence centered around Daichi and you were beginning to resent it. 

Was that the reason you were starting to save every one of Hinata’s dirty pictures?

Dirty was an overstatement - you had seen everything up to his V-line and while your artist’s eye could now trace every single bit of his anatomy from memory, you couldn’t say anything he sent you was truly risqué, could you? Maybe he sent those pics to every girl on his phone, or maybe you were different...

That was besides the point. The point was that suddenly the man who lay beside you every night was no longer doing it for you.

“___,” Daichi whispered groggily, revealing that he really had just passed out the moment his head hit the pillow. “I really need to sleep… what’s the problem?” 

You faltered, unable to come up with something to explain why you’d just thrown a mini-tantrum.

“... there’s no problem, I was just… never mind.”

Too many things bubbled inside you and were left unspoken that night, and so in order to express yourself, you settled on, or rather on top, something way worse.

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect it to be this easy.”

Hinata didn’t mean to be offensive - howcouldhebehewassuchasweetboyafterall - but the pang of guilt in your chest said otherwise, as you inhaled and exhaled softly under the weight of his muscular body pressed against yours.

Maybe you felt bad, but the feeling was short-lived because once Hinata’s fingers dug into the flesh of your hips and gripped you tightly, firmly, so much so in fact you were sure it was just to prove that for all these years you had really belonged to him, he thrust into you so sharply and precisely that you let out a gasp as the intense pleasure blinded you.

“S-Shoyo!”

“Say it louder,” was all he whispered as he flipped you over before slamming you down onto him hard, sending another wave of intense stimulation through you.

You screamed his name again, tears now coming to your eyes as he bucked his hips against you, bouncing you up and down his deliciously large cock at a brutal, energetic pace, knowing very well that you couldn’t keep up from the short, unintelligible sounds now leaping out of your throat.

“You’ve always been mine, ___. You just didn’t know it yet.”

Warm wetness streaming from your face almost as much as from the space between your legs, you couldn’t find the words to protest. Did you want to protest? Was he right? Wasn’t he right?

Your mind was too hazy for thought, and instead you let selfish desire overtake you for the rest of the night.

[sanders-sides-fic]

We all pretend (to be the heroes on the good side)

So… This got real angsty real quick. I didn't intend for it to be that bad. But it went there… So… Yeah.

This is the prompt I was using

Trigger warnings: vaguely implied coma, vaguely implied character death, implied fall, abandonment, ability to move inanimate objects like they're alive

Virgil Sanders.

Most people didn't know that name. Some did, but not nearly as many as knew him. Weird, wasn't it? To be known, without your name being uttered. Maybe that was still part of his history.

He hadn't started out on this side of the fight. A few years ago he'd been feared beyond compare. "Nightmare", that's what they used to call him. Back when he'd been pushed into that role without a visible way out. He didn't have a choice back then, or, at least that's what he used to think.

Then, one night shit got down. He destroyed every connection he'd had, severed every bridge, left everything behind. "Nightmare" became "Anxiety" at that time. A villain-turned-vigilante, who didn't use his powers to terrorise his opponent's minds until they were unable to fight, but answered to the terror people around him felt instead.

Back then he'd started to work with some of his former enemies. They took him in well, everything considered. And he couldn't deny that they helped him a lot. He would sometimes join hands with "the brain", and occasionally even with his reluctant friend and Virgil's former nemesis "the prince".

There were a lot heroes with a "the" in their names, surprisingly.

Now, he couldn't tell anymore when it had happened. But at some time he found himself influenced by their heroic antics, and he took on the name of "storm cloud". His hero name. He teamed up with the brain in his mandatory probation, the so-called introduction phase before his official debut with title of hero. Sadly the name a common friend had offered for their team had been rejected by the hero in question. "Mind storm" would have been awesome, though, right?

And then things started to become brighter in his little world. Hell, his entire career was nothing more than a redemption arch.

That's why he was often times called "the light of hope" by the people. Light of hope, my ass! They were just relieved to see not every villain was beyond help. That was the only reason they liked him, if you'd asked him. Publicity.

That was what he kept thinking about in that moment, when he found himself facing off with his current nemesis. The golden snake was… an old acquaintance. A villain that'd only become a villain because of him. Or, because he wasn't a villain anymore. A villain that Virgil secretly couldn't bring himself to hate because of that, even after everything that had transpired between the two of them.

What even was this, really? A fight between a hero and a villain? If so, who was who? Virgil couldn't tell anymore. He didn't know who he was anymore. It was so… What was the word?

Ack! No time to think of it. He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the snake's poisonous fang. Ja- the villain had become quite good at this by now. Virgil was really driven to the edge of the building. Luckily there were no more civilians around, but he could still see reporters, some persistent fans, and police officers taking away the snake's underlings out of the corner of his eyes.

The wind blew strong this night.

A bolt of purple lightning shot towards Jan- the villain. It was stoped by the snake of pure gold he controlled so delicately without ever reaching him. Of course. What had Virgil expected? This villain was outstanding. Like he'd always had been.

Virgil tried again, the lightning coming from his finger tips getting harder to control by the second. Too many people, too much fear in the air, too little time to concentrate. And the villain knew this. Virgil could see his smirk underneath the shadow of his hat.

"Just give up, dark and stormy night! You can't hang on for much longer."

Virgil gritted his teeth and fired another bold of lightning. "And let you escape when we got this far? Big chance." Though he did want to do that, if he was being honest.

A laugh so hauntingly familiar and yet a far cry from what he used to know resounded through the tense air. "Suit yourself, then!" Another snake, another step back, pushing the golden puppet away from him with his lightning, parry, attack, cutting off the escape route, damn it all and…

And there was no more building under his feet. His hand somehow managed to grip the edge of the building, fortunately. He would decidedly not look down. And if the people around him would kindly stop sending their fear about him falling towards him, that'd be great, thanks!

He could see the golden snake stepping forward leisurely. "Told you so, dearest." With a smirk the snake retreated.

Well, from the sounds of it, Ro would arrive any moment now. He could hear him in the distance. So he only needed to hand on. Just a bit more. Even though his breath was heavy, and his muscles ached, and there was so much fear it felt like his powers were going to explode, and he was tired, and…

At that moment Virgil realised for the first time how tired he actually was. And he started to wonder what would happen if he would let go of the edge. Five fingers desperately hanging on. Now four. For how much longer? How long until Ro arrived? How much longer did he have to hang on?

What would happen?

Well, he would probably die. Splash, unsightly and painful. Sure. But, aside from that? Who would care? Who would actually care about it? Ro, who only accepted him after fighting so much to prove he was even a bit trustworthy? Lo, who had taken him in because he wanted to prove the point of villains deserving a second chance?

Would there be an official memorial? Like with other heroes? Or would there be merely a single line in the newspaper, like with the villains? Maybe there'd be a few lights on the edge of the street in his colour, like some did for vigilantes they especially adored.

But that would also be the end of so much bad stuff, right? No more pressure, no more screams in his head, no more false smiles, no more… No more tiredness accumulating in his bones.

Was that what would happen?

"No!"

The sudden desperate cry from the villain's mouth startled him out of his thoughts. And, oh… Oh, fuck. Oh, shit! Oh, in that moment of sudden stupidity he'd actually let go, without even fully noticing, hadn't he?

And again, the voice he'd always be able to recognise, no matter where he would hear it: "No! Don't you dare die! Not here, not like this, not now."

It was too late, though. And had Ro arrived yet? He could still see the shocked fans, the officers, the people up there. Frozen. They didn't move as he fell down to his inevitable death. But the villain? He did, he leapt towards the edge, as though he was still within reach.

And Virgil, no, Storm Cloud couldn't help but let out a startled laugh at the irony of it all. How ironic it was, he thought just before his vision went dark, that the only hand reaching out to him, the hero, the so called "light of hope"… the only hand reaching out to him now was that of his nemesis.

Maybe not hating the villain wasn't that stupid of a secret, after all.

❦

"Oh? So how do your powers work, then?" Janus looked up at him through his thick eyelashes, a content smirk on his face as Virgil played with his hair.

"I can hear their fears. They scream in my head, and I can feel their anxiety on my skin." Virgil thought about how to best describe it, fingers changing directions to trial the snake tattoo Janus had on his left cheekbone. "It's like static in the air. And I can either wait until it explodes, or I can let it free. That's what those lightnings are, just… The tension from the air gathered into sheer fear. If I condense it enough, it makes them pass out from fear."

Janus sighed, mismatched eyes closed. "Mine's so stupid in comparison. So I can control metal that looks like animals, wow. It's useless, really. Like, what am I? A fucking jewellery box? Stupid!"

Virgil couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, yeah. But it's fine, isn't it? Since I was able to capture you that way. If you hadn't become my hostage, you wouldn't be with me right now."

"Like me!" The two of them startled, looking at the man hanging upside down from the ceiling. "Though I suppose I'm less hostage and more freeloader…"

"You both are technically freeloaders," Virgil corrected with a smirk "and I didn't kidnap you. You followed me and begged me to take you in because your brother's my enemy. What was it again that you said?"

"I'm leverage so you don't kill him! So I am a hostage. A willing one, though. And it's not bad, you don't torture me or anything. You're surprisingly gentle for a villain…"

"Yeah, well, I… It just happened. If I had had the choice, I…"

Janus sat up suddenly, a serious look on his dolled-up face. "But it did happen. And that's good, because there's no way either of us" he pointed between Remus and himself "will be on any other side anymore. It's too late for us, and we like it here. And you do too, right?"

Virgil looked at the eyes of the man he loved, the man who he pretended not to know had bought a diamond ring just a few days ago. And he couldn't answer. So he just sighed and kissed his forehead instead.

"If you ever change sides" Janus muttered as he snuggled back against Virgil "I'll come and terrorise the entire world to get you back. I'm no hero, but I'm on the right side." Virgil didn't see it, but he knew Janus' face got considerably darker during that last sentence. "So I'd sacrifice the world for you."

There was a beat of silence.

"I'll never forgive you if you leave."

And Virgil didn't plan on leaving. Really, he didn't. But the next night… It just happened. Like when he became a villain. A week later, when he finally managed to get back to their layer, everything was empty. But on top of the bar there was an empty bottle of wine and a black velvet box.

Virgil leaned back, sighing. He looked back up, tears in his eyes. He was too late, huh?

"I guess you saved me, Jan," he muttered to no one in particular "since this is a nightmare. Or maybe it's hell. Who knows." He chuckled, tears still streaming down his face. "I hope I wake up soon."

He sighed, sinking to the floor, trapped in the most painful memory he had. "But then again, maybe that's what I deserve for always letting go at the worst times…"

The scene started to replay again.

Taglist: @gattonero17 @alias290

[mirrerover]

High on the Fumes

“Straying a bit far from the nest, Dickiebird,” Jason says. He’s got one hand shoving his mask back up into his hood, revealing just his mouth and the sharp line of his jaw, while the other digs in the pocket of his leather jacket, fishing for cigarettes. A beaten-up carton gets waved in Dick’s general direction, offering a cigarette Dick never accepts. Not like this. Not in the Nightwing suit, at least.

They’re currently overlooking Crime Alley, seated on the edge of the roof, legs dangling off the side. Jason hadn’t seemed surprised when Dick had dropped down next to him on the ledge. But Red Hood wouldn’t be Red Hood if Jason didn’t know the coming and goings of the various vigilantes creeping on Gotham's rooftops at night.

“Ran out of bad guys my side of the pond,” Dick says in the easy way he says lots of things. The patented Grayson charm. “What can I say—I’m just that good.”

That actually pulls a laugh out of Jason. A genuine one. One that has his mouth stretched apart in a smile that makes Dick think beautiful.

“No criminals in Blüdhaven. I knew moonlighting as a police officer would be bad for you. Six months on the job and they’ve already got you on their payroll.”

“Thought you’d be proud of me for lasting as long as I did.”

“Sure thing, Princess.” There’s a fancy Zippo in his hand now, one Dick has never seen before, lighting the first cigarette of plenty to come. Dick wonders if Jason lifted it off some crook he left for dead. “You probably broke some departmental records. Most Blüdhaven cops are on the take before they’ve even stepped off Academy grounds.”

Dick chuckles the way you chuckle when watching your own house burn down to ashes, all your mortal possessions still inside. Blüdhaven is a corrupt cesspool with no fast and easy fix. Maybe not even a slow and difficult one—and she’s all Dick's. He stuffs the thought somewhere deep and hidden and eagerly shifts his eyes to Jason so he can forget. Just for a while.

It’s hard to read Jason’s face, hidden in the shadows of his hood, but the body language is clear; no apparent stiffness or major sore spots. Jason looks relaxed, if not a little tired, fingers nimble when they lift the cigarette to his lips. So the bloodstains aren’t his own.

“Slow night?”

Jason shrugs. “Petty criminals, mostly.” His lips tighten into a harsh line. “Some creep who thought he could set up shop and play pimp. Fuck that. My girls work for themselves.”

His girls. And that, Dick thinks, is the difference between Bruce and Jason. Bruce has his villains, his meta humans, and when that well runs dry there’s the League. A galaxy full of nemeses for him to fight.  Big players and even bigger stakes. Abstract concepts of freedom and peace, and the liberty of dealing in absolutes. Jason has his people. The concrete reality of kids not being cornered by predators and sex workers keeping money in their own pockets. And his people love him. Prefer the Red Hood taking an iron pipe to the face of their abusive ex-husband, their kid’s drug dealer, or the rapist next-door, to the untouchable Bat Symbol high up in the sky.

Maybe Dick’s been staring too hard or maybe Jason can tell he’s thinking of Bruce because the next time he speaks, he’s extra crass: “I need a cock so far up my ass I’ll be seeing stars, a good meal, and a shower with better water pressure than the usual geriatric-taking-their-midnight-piss nonsense that’s rife this side of the city.” He sucks long and hard on the cigarette, posture thoughtful, before releasing the smoke in a slow exhale. “Not necessarily in that order.”

Dick snorts. Maybe there’s more than just the one big difference. “That really something you wanna yell off the rooftops? Thought you were some big bad crime lord.”

“The fuck's that s'posed to mean, Big Bird?” Some might assume that toting around eight severed heads in a duffle bag once would make it hard to take the moral high ground on anything. Dick knows for a fact that Jason doesn’t really give a shit about either morals or the high ground but it doesn’t stop him from taking both and making them his bitch. “Think I’m weak for taking it up the ass? How ‘bout you dial back on the homophobia, you bigoted prick.”

It might be more impressive if Dick was a little less familiar with Jason and his rage. Jason doesn’t settle his actual grievances with his words. This is foreplay.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Little Wing. Got the best thighs this side of the equator. Ain’t nobody calling you weak, babe.”

“Don’t you forget it, asshole.”

Dick hums, lowering himself onto his back, arms stretched high above his head. There’s a weird serenity to being verbally abused by Jason as the Eastern sky is starting to brighten. The sound from the street feels distant and Jason feels so close, their thighs mere inches apart. When Dick lets his head rest on his arm, Jason’s broad shoulders fill up half his vision and he knows if he buries his nose between his shoulder blades it’ll smell of leather and smoke and sweat.

Jason twists his torso towards him. “Were you even listening, Fingerstripes? Just told you I want a cock up my ass before the night is through. Need me to grab a pen and a piece of paper and spell it out for you?” Jason gives a depreciating grunt. “And Daddy dares to say that you’re the smart one.”

“Jesus, Hood,” Dick teases. “Can’t tell if you’re trying to go for seductive or insulting.”

“Shows how shit your instincts are. I’m doing both. You turned on yet?”

Dick shrugs good-naturedly, arches his back and gives Jason the Grayson smile, blinding, crooked, winning. “Little bit.”

There’s another laugh, another smile. Another beautiful in Dick’s head. Then Jason’s lying down beside him, shoulders brushing, and voice bleeding a warm: “thought you would be, you big slut.”

When Jason finishes his cigarette he kills what’s left of it on the concrete. Wordlessly lights another. The new Zippo burns big and bright.

Dick lowers one arm, carefully drags his fingers across the busted knuckles of the hand holding the lighter. Sometimes, those hands will leave red streaks on Dick’s skin and Dick won’t know if the person it came from is still a person at all. And he thinks Jason painting him with blood should probably bother him more than it does. But it’s hard sometimes, between the night job and the day job and the things he sees during both. Between Bruce, who puts principles before people, and Jason, who puts people before Bruce, is Dick, who doesn’t want to choose between either, who wants to have both—but let’s Jason mark him up with the blood from Gotham’s criminals, anyway. So, maybe he’s made his choice.

"Make me a coffee tomorrow morning," Dick says, Jason's hand warm beneath his own. "With those fancy beans. From that specialty shop where they roast and grind the beans on the spot and you watch them like a hawk 'cause you're both anal and a snob."

"Just the coffee?"

"Just the coffee."

"You're one cheap fucking lay, Boy Blunder."

“Only for you,” Dick says. "The Bat family discount.” Dick wonders if there’s a little something special in those cigarettes when that doesn’t get him punted off the roof immediately. The vicious elbow stab to the gut seems rather mellow.

“Asshole,” Jason murmurs under his breath. The vitriol dripping off that single word makes Dick honest-to-God giggle, chest feeling light like flying.    

He thinks they’ll stay here a little longer. Maybe one or two more cigarettes—all Jason. Dick will smoke after. After the sex, and the shower and the sleeping and the coffee. Long after the morning is gone. When Dick has been stripped of his suit for hours and Jason the same for his mask and guns. Then Dick will sit naked in the afternoon sun on Jason’s windowsill, grab that Zippo and smoke.

One cigarette. Just then.

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

@wethatake I wrote a thing. Can you believe it? I sure can’t

[sorenskyhigh]

What Pet I Think They'd Have and Why: Karasuno Edition

Daichi Sawamura

Of course he'd have a police dog

He's a cop and if he'd have any pet he'd have a buddy to help him bust criminals and fight crime

But I don't think Daichi would have a "normal" dog breed like a German Shepherd, Malinois, or Akita

I feel like Daichi would have a Rottweiler not bc they are my favorite dog breed

But Rottweilers used to be very prevalent in many police forces around the world until German Shepard and Malinois became more common

Also Rottweilers gained a harsh reputation for being aggressive bc they were trained by drug lords and criminals and were used to in fighting

Rottweilers are very muscular, sturdy, and hard working dogs

If trained right and with proper love and care these dogs are GREAT and I mean GREAT companions

They are stubborn and can be territorial with strangers, but, they are very loving towards familiars and family

They are a kind of one or two people fits them kind of dog

They also need constant stimulus as they were breed to be very hardworking dogs

Rottweilers used to pull sleds full of butchered meat bc they were so strong and the original breed was much bigger than the one we know today

They also herded large livestock through the alps and Roman region and are known to be fearless

They are also one of the oldest dog breeds

These dogs became popular Police dogs during the World Wars

Bc they were being used so much their guardian qualities were more showcased so more and more people wanted one to help keep and eye on their children

Since they are herding dogs they are good around children and can keep them in a yard if they are taught the parameters

Rottweilers despite their size generally don't bark a lot either, they are very sneaky when approaching a possible threat and will ppun e from behind

This is why I think Daichi would have one to be by his side

I feel like Daichi would do a lot of research into a good companion and finding a good breeder to find one after deciding

He'd get one as a puppy and personally see to it's training, working with a pro the whole time

His dog would also be a great family protector when he's home with his spouse and possible children, if he ends up having any

Koushi Sugawara

I feel like Koushi would be that really awesome teacher that has a really sweet and sociable pet that he brings in for the kids a lot

I feel Koushi would want soemthing small and cute so a rabbit of some sort would suit him well

Rabbits can be very loving with a small family most of the time or sometimes only one person

Rabbits are prey animals so some breeds wouldn't do well in a loud room full of young children

So what specific rabbit breed would suit his job?

So I chose the Harlequin Rabbit for Koushi

Harlequin rabbits are very social and loving towards owners and strangers alike

They also are known to be very silly, playful and very intelligent

They come in two colour types: Japanese and Magpie

The picture above is an example of Japanese while a Magpie can be colored in just about any other colour other than black nd orange like lilac, white, chocolate, blue and/or black

I feel like this specific type of rabbit would suit him so well as it would be comfortable around all those kids

Be very social and would be less likely to nip them

And it would be energetic enough to keep up with the kids

Koushi wouldn't just want a pet for his classroom though, he'd want a cuddle buddy for at home

He'd want a companion to sit on his lap while he works on lessons

He'd also want a pet that wasn't too lazy as his life would be pretty busy

The only thing is is that rabbits are high maintenance and need very specific foods, medicines, and an experienced vet to care for them

But rabbits are cuddly little crackheads that Koushi would adore

Energetic enough to keep up with his life, but snuggly and home bodied enough to not exhaust him

Asahi Azumane

Asahi is a fashion designer and thus would spend a lot of time hunched over a sketch book making designs

In other words, he has a very home based and indoor job

So he'd need a pet that isn't energetic and obnoxious like a husky or chihuahua

So I chose the Havanese

Havanese is the national dog of Cuba

This dog may be small but they are incredibly sturdy

These dogs become attached quickly and are extremely loyal to said lone owner

Something else that is good for Asahi is these dogs do not do good alone and are willing to follow their owners to the ends of the Earth

They can be described as velcro dogs bc of how attach to the hip with their owners they are

These dogs can be lively and active but they don't need much exercise as they are smaller

Most of their daily exercise can be met in a house with some light play

Also, these dogs are extremely friendly towards strangers and can be described as good host dogs

Another plus for Asahi about this breed is they aren't particularly vocal, most are rather quiet and reserved almost

The last thing you'd want is for people to look down on you for letting your pet act spoiled by barking and nipping at people's ankles

They also love to perform for others

They like attention and are good in groups

Asahi would have to meet with a lot of new people like models and companies and whatnot so a social dog would be best

Asahi also would spend a lot of time in an office or at home and since these dogs don't need much exercise he would be able to have it sleep on his lap while he works without disturbance

I also feel like Asahi would become a bit of a hermit

Like he would contact people but he wouldn't leave his house unless he absolutely had to or wanted to (which isn't often)

Havanese are home-bodied dogs and love just chillin' out on a warm lap or on a couch cushion beside their owners

Yū Nishinoya

Now I DO NOT think Noya should have a pet until he decides to settle down somewhere

Travel can really exhaust a person so it would harm an animal tenfold

So, if you travel a lot DO NOT GET A PET IT WILL ONLY HARM THEM

But if Yū were to have a pet.............................

Noya would need a pet that can travel well, is small enough to not cost a lot, is very attached to their owners, and can eat just about anything

I thought briefly of other rodents since rodents are generally small and can eat just about any food

But raccoons, possums, and other larger rodents that are more common for pets would be too hard to get on planes and boats since you need certification to own them

Rats on the other hand don't need such certifications in most countries and fill all the other requirements

The rat he would have isn't a Dumbo rat like in the picture above, he'd have like a wild rat that he befriended and decided to take with him so it'd most like be brown

Noya would 100% fight anyone who says they hate rats

He hypes up his pet rat to no end

He calls Asahi whenever he can and tells him about all the cool stuff his rat does and sends pictures of his rat being held up to a gorgeous background of famous landmarks in other countries

Nlya always has his rat around the back of his neck and wears a hoodie, scarf, or something like that to hide him so he can join Noya in places that don't allow pets

I also chose a rat bc they are incredibly loyal and I feel like if Noya were to be really tired on a plane and pass out, he would need a pet that he wouldn't have to worry about running away

Of course he has trained his rat to do amazing tricks, you already know

Also, as I previously mentioned, rats can eat just about anything, so his constant travel wouldn't hurt his companion diet

Rats are also quiet generally and aren't overly energetic so he wouldn't have to be worried about being escorted out for having a rat under his scarf

Chikara Ennoshita

Shibas are very independent dog, let's just start with that bc Chikara would need a pet that doesn't need constant attention

With him being a personal trainer he needs a pet that can self entertain

Something else about Shibas is they can often housebreak themselves bc of how fussy and finicky they are

You can also find them cleaning themselves much like a cat

Chikara would be busy for a good bit of his time so he doesn't really have time to properly spend time to housebreak a pet

But Shibas were originally bred to hunt and flush out game like birds and rabbits and other such small animals

A fact about Shibas is they almost went extinct during WWII bc of food shortages a distemper

Distemper is a disease only animals can be affected by that attacks many different systems in their bodies

Also, Shibas are the number one most common companion dog in Japan

Something else about Shibas is that they are fairly healthy, some of the more major problems they have are glaucoma, cataracts, hip dysplasia, entropion, and luxating patella

A lot of eye conditions but are easily avoided if you bring them in for very periodic eye checks and hip examinations

So these are easy to avoid as long you keep an eye on them

Over all I think that if Chikara were to have a pet it would need to be fairly self-sufficient but also something could have a very chill and laid back relationship with

Something that doesn't need to be on his lap all the time but something he can love and nurture

Kiyoko Shimizu & Ryūnoske Tanaka

Now I know I know

Ryu would be a dog person

He'd want a big manly pet not a cat blah blah blah

Kiyoko would definitely be a cat person

She wouldn't want a purebred and would probably find a box of some kittens with Ryu on the side of the sidewalk

Now look me in the eye and lie to me by saying that Ryu would now start crying immediately upon seeing like four lonely little kittens in a box that need a home

Needless to say, they take them home and nurture them endlessly

But Tanaka would be the kind of guy that harness trains his cats so they can go out on walks

Kiyoko would research how to harness train them, what food would be the best, and anything else they need to take care of these four cats

Imagine seeing these two, a big muscular dude and this goddess walking four cats on harnesses down the street

I literally cannot stop thinking about Ryu and Kiyoko cuddling on the couch with all four adult and rather large cats draping themselves across the two of them

I feel like the reason Ryu would want them harness trained is bc he wouldn't be able to spend much time with them

His job as a personal trainer would keep him busy

So on his morning jogs to stay fit he'd want to take not only Kiyoko but the cats as well

I plan on making more parts to this, I hope you enjoy it 😉

@popcorntime-doodles @multifandombrainrot @kneecapstealingalien @akabxne @jiheonity @weareallhumans123 @smallmangi @canadian-crow @just-jellyfish @immiamarais @i-need-coffee-now-pls @foreveryoung050 @kuroos-world @luminasapphire @silverfire6 @shadowsbutdead @ghostexhibit @simpfornishinoya @goshikisimp @anothershadeofpink @mestayanon @japoga @all-around-fandoms31 @thatfunnysprout @myyeetfelloff @itsallgonnabokayihope @g00s3 @boreateo @mirrorballmyfave @backalley-astrologer @vaniatslover @lil-mellow-bunbun @strawberrymakki @theforbiddenrealm-blog @beelziee @mehreenlol

[sevendeadlyvices]

Poker Buddies AU: Max and Memories Notes

Something I compiled for @i-cant-thinkof-anything-new Poker Buddies AU they have going. Now I used the Poker Night wiki to get this and I thought this would be helpful for any Sam and Max or Poker Night at the Inventory Fans in general. That and I have my own Poker Night At The Inventory AU and headcannons that I need to work on too. The first information is generally Max’s poker strategy in Poker Night At The Inventory:

When it comes to reading the opponent's strategies, Max's will prove to be a big problem. Due to his lack of knowledge on the subject, his poker strategy seems non-existent. His choice of whether to call, raise, or fold tends to come out of nowhere. Sometimes, Max will or will not have a good hand, so he will be very hard to read. His strategies are completely random; he might bluff, be cautious, or be aggressive. Sometimes he will just keep on betting or keep on folding.

I would call Max an unpredictable poker player at times. There’s this tell he has that if his left hand quivers, he’s bluffing, but other than that, you’re on your own with him. 

Next is his relationships with the characters of both Poker Nights:

Heavy: Max seems to have a good strong friendship with the Heavy, asking him about how his career is going and what kind of weapon he could recommend.

Strong Bad: Mostly casual, having the odd talk with Strong Bad when Max is compelled to tell some sort of story.

Tycho: His relationship with Tycho seems to be, again, a casual friendship. They share many of the same interests, although from time to time Max will be slightly put off by Tycho's odd behavior.

The Player: Max often thinks The Player plays too conservatively, especially when not calling a huge bet of Max's.

Sam: Max very much loves the big guy. Max is Sam's long-time partner, best friend, husband, and sidekick.

Brock Samson: Brock finds Max annoying like Claptrap, but also finds it much easier to ignore him, even when Max is physically attacking him. He also has some level of respect for the lagomorph for everything he and Sam overcame as members of the Freelance Police.

Claptrap: Much like Sam, Claptrap is a fan of Max for their games and comics. He seems closer to Max than Sam due to the fact that Max isn't as annoyed by him as Sam is. Max's love for violence makes the robot think he would fit in very well on Pandora. If Claptrap is knocked out before Sam, he will often sit next to Max for a while. Also, during a Showdown, Max will stand right next to Claptrap, wondering what the next card will be.

Ash Williams: Ash has considerable respect for Max and Sam's career and is otherwise "okay" with the lagomorph. However, Ash also displays a few moments of apprehension and even downright concern when Max' insanity acts up, usually in his theme eliminations.

GLaDOS: Max doesn't seem to mind the murderous AI as much as the other characters and occasionally joins in when she insults or annoys the other characters (primarily Sam).

This is from the wiki, so take this with a grain of salt.

And finally, with spoilers in the cut:

The Memories I would focus on for the Epic Texas Hold Em Matches! Note that it’s not all the conversations from both games, but here’s the ones I found so far that might be interesting to incorporate for the AU. I’ll bold the ones that would seem more angsty for the AU:

Max: I don't know a lot about card games, truth be told. But, I take it you're a little bit of a beginner, yes? Strong Bad: Are you talking to (pronounces it as moy) moi? Max: You betcha. You're as green as the bologna in Sam's mini-fridge. Strong Bad: (angrily) Shut up, Stitch. Max: (cheerily) It's OK. It just means you have to adopt a wanton strategy of wild deception. Strong Bad: Hmm... Not the woist idea I ever hoid. Max: (furrows brow) Get into their heads.

Max: You know what I love? Tycho: What's that? Max: Destroying wave after wave of the undead. Tycho: WORD UP! How do you roll? Max: With my trusty side arm of course. Tycho: I'm more of an auto-shotgun guy. Max: Oooh! Heavy: This is good weapon no? Max: Sam and I had to resign ourselves to pistols when our cleaning bill started going through the roof. Tycho: Yeah, its like ichor? Oxyclean ain't cuttin' it. Max: This pelt is dry clean only.

Tycho: Max, how'd you learn to play cards? Max: Funny you should ask! This one time, Sam and I were busting up a crime syndicate down in Atlantic City. A road job. Tycho: Indeed. Max: Yeah! So we're tailing this low level mafia bum for an hour and he pulls up outside a casino and before he can go in Sam says, "Well little buddy, we better nab this guy quicker than a Pittsburgh driver taking a left on a green in rush hour." I couldn't have agreed more. So I grab a tire iron out of the back seat, right, hop out of the Desoto, and pummel this guy like a piñata. Tycho: Yow! Max: Blindfold and all! Tycho: ...That doesn't really answer my question. Max: You asked me a question?

Tycho: Hey Max, how do you like being a freelance police officer? Max: It's the best. Tycho: I bet it is. Max: Oh, but that's not all I do. I'm also available for babysitting, bat mitzvahs and general shakedowns. You know anybody who needs work? Tycho: See, this why I think we get along. You're a Renaissance man. Max: You need anybody roughed up? Tycho: There's a bird at the pet store that's been giving me a little beak, yeah. Max: Oh ho, putting a wise acre in his place is my specialty!

Heavy: I will make hat from you, little bunny. Max: How 'bout I just sit on your head and shoot people? Heavy: (thinks about this) ...This is good idea.

Heavy: Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war? Strong Bad: Hmm, in WAR? Probably those Green Helmets. You know, the guys who don't have any cool weapons or gimmicks, and come in a discount three-pack. Heavy: To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type. Max: My favorite enemy? {gasps} That's like asking me to choose between my children! Heavy: {laughs heartily} You crack me up, little bunny!

Heavy: You look very familiar, bunny. Max: How closely do you follow the Manhattan crime blotter? Wait, you didn't go the Spiro Agnew School of the Arts, did you? Tycho: You attended? Didn't take you for the book learnin' type. Max: No, but Sam and I pinched their gym teacher in a black market jock strap ring in the 80's. I'd be surprised if any student didn't remember a dog choking out a large man with a unibrow.

Strong Bad: I don't trust you one bit, ra-bbit. Max: It's ok, I don't trust myself. Strong Bad: How do we know that you don't have a never ending stack of aces wherever you put your gun? Max: Well, you don't, but you're welcome to look!

Strong Bad: So... Max. You're like one of those (pronounces as poke mons) poke-mons, right? Max: (narrows eyes) My genus and phylum is a mystery to all mankind. Strong Bad: Because I'd love to see some prepubescent pointy-haired kid run in here and stick you inside of a baseball (laughs). (in a high pitched voice, with a smile) That would be hilarious. Max: Are you talking about the red-capped kidnapper who terrorized the fauna on the Upper West Side for months? Strong Bad: Maybe. Max: Because Sam, Flint, and I caught him trying to stuff a chimpanzee into his knapsack, and made him cry for his mommy.

Strong Bad: I wonder if this dump is haunted? Max: (cheerily) Ooh, I hope so. There's something about being able to terrorize a spectral being without it up and dying on you that (furrows eyebrows) I just love. Heavy: (sadly, lowers his head) I do not like ghost. Max: It's OK Mr. Weapons. I've got extensive experience with zombies and vampires. (points toward himself) I can handle a little ghost. Heavy: (with large eyes) You will take care of ghost for me? Max: (cheerily) You betcha. Heavy: (cheerily, nods his head) I like you, tiny rabbit.

(Brock) GLaDOS: Brock Samson is eliminated. Max: GERONIMO! (lands on Brock's head and starts to gnaw on it, to no effect) Die, die, die! Brock: (gets up) I'll be at the bar.

(Claptrap) GLaDOS: Claptrap is eliminated due to lack of funds. Max: Wet willy, wet willy! (sticks a finger in his mouth and inserts it into a hole in Claptrap's side) Claptrap: Hey! That's not my ear, it's my... (both are electrified and fall from chair)

(Ash) GLaDOS: Ashley Williams is eliminated. Ash gets up and reaches for his chainsaw, only to realize it's not there. Max is holding it, standing a foot or so behind him. Max: (grinning maliciously) Looking for something? (looks at Sam normally) Hey, check it out, Sam! I'm a tree surgeon! Sam: (whispering to Ash) He's not really a tree surgeon...! Ash looks worried. Max: (revs up chainsaw) Open wide and say "ah!" (chases Ash away)

[mrvdocks]

Nightcall P.1

Request/Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night. 

After

The flurry of phones ringing off the hook and background noise felt foreign to you, it was just a buzzing in your ear. You pulled the safety blanket around you closer, grabbing it in fistfuls. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like hours. The fluorescent in the room probably only made you look even worse for wear than you were hours before, but it didn’t matter now. In a span of 24 hours, your life had changed. 

The guarded door opened and an officer pulled up a chair in front of you, dropping photos of the gruesome scene you’d seen firsthand. She slides the photos closer, her thumb obscuring the killer’s face. You didn’t need to see it a second time.

“You were found in the residence of Mr. Kunkle, with one Jessie Adams and a John Doe, who seems to have been the victim of Mr. Kunkle’s spree amongst others.”

Even his name brings chills down your spine. 

“I already told the police everything.” You say groggily, your throat still sore from the whole ordeal.

“Yes, but there seems to be some doubt on your partnership with Mr. Kunkle. Footage, eyewitness accounts,” she’s studying you no doubt. Any sort of tick or movement you made without thought that could somehow lead her to think you were lying about anything you had explained earlier. 

“What was your relationship with Mr. Kunkle?” She pries, bringing multiple photos of Kurt to be splayed out in front of you. Some good, some bad, some….disturbing. 

“I - none. He just knew me through the socials.” 

“And you were also the target of his mania.” There’s something unsettling in how much she’s liking interrogating you. You ignore it. 

“You think it’s my fault he did this.” 

It was not your fault. None of this was. Kurt was just too power hungry. Maybe you were too trusting. You didn’t want to see Kurt for what he really was until it was too late. 

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but your compliance does seem suspicious.”

“I-I didn’t know him very well. He was just my Spree driver for a day. But he was always nice to me.”

“He was also your kidnapper.”

“Like I said, he was a nice guy.” Your voice breaks. 

They’re all nice guys until they aren’t. 

“And you didn’t think to call the authorities when you were alone? Were you helping him lure these people?”

You can feel her eyes burning into you. 

“I’m not stupid,” you cry. “I know how this sounds. But I’m telling you, he gave me a ride and then he - all of this. Oh God.” 

You bring your shaky hands to run through your worn and tired face, specks of dried blood still prominent even through many washes with soap. It’s another way Kurt managed to stay with you. 

“Let’s start at the beginning,” she sits back with her arms folded. “And spare no detail.”

Before

He scrolls through your feed for the millionth time today.

Photos of you on your daily walks, exploring hidden LA gems, posting places you were shooting at, people you were hanging out with, all at the touch of a button for him. The bell notification alerts him, telling him that you’ve posted. He taps the screen in the blink of an eye, meeting your face as you giggle about falling while skating. 

You pout as you show the damage, remarking that it was lucky you weren’t shooting that day otherwise you would’ve had to cover up on such a hot day. 

In a vain industry, you try to keep yourself humble and that’s what he loves about you. Though he’s never met you, he thinks you could live up to the image he’s created of you. One that matches your optimistic and humorous one. 

He re watches your story, pausing at random moments where he screenshots and saves to his photos. His home screen is a shot of you in black and white, seemingly topless from chest down and looking back with an enticing smile. He loves the way your hair frames your face, the way pieces of it were meticulously picked out to give it a sort of messy look.

You could make anything look good, he thinks.

Bobby gives him a hard time about you, bragging about how he knows you and that although you’re more well known than he is, you are the one who should be grateful for his exposure.

Kurt thinks it’s bullshit but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, maybe you’d come around to meet him one day.

The vibration of a text brings him out of his daze, seeing Bobby’s name in big bold letters. 

He can’t believe his eyes when he opens the text. It’s an off guard video of you behind Bobby, giggling at something on your phone before noticing that he’s recording and flashing a cheeky smile and a peace sign.

“Found your girlfriend.” Bobby mocks before erupting into hysterical laughter.

Kurt replays it until his phone dies, Bobby’s words echoing in his head.

An idea pops into his head, it would be difficult if he didn’t know your exact routine but thanks to your fan accounts and the power of gossip blogs, it’s a definite success. 

He calls Bobby immediately, hearing him and his entourage in the background as they talked about a video idea. 

“What do you want, Kurt? I’m busy right now.” His annoyance is clear but Kurt is way too focused on you to notice.

“I need a favor.”

It’s amazing what the internet contains about a person. It’s also quite terrifying. Through just a few minutes of research, he’s found out your schedule along with where you went to school, where you live and your closest friends. 

In a photo Bobby had taken, the location of the next shoot you had taking place somewhere was barely visible.

He connects the dots, thinking about how your involvement could help him get  #TheLesson out and make him a household name. 

And it’s exactly what he does the day of. He parks near your neighborhood, foot bouncing and anxiously looking at his phone. He declines the others in hopes of finding you according to the schedule. You almost never use your real name on anything when going out but he recognizes your fake name and location, he puts the car into drive and talks himself up. 

He parks across the street, giving him a better view of you.  

His heart skitters when he sees you look in his direction, your brows quirk up as you give him an easy smile and cross carefully. 

You stop and bend to meet him at the passenger window, “Kurt, right?”

His name coming out of your mouth is something he’s dreamed of since he first saw you. He almost pinches himself to know if this is real. 

He knows he’s grinning like an idiot because you laugh at his speechlessness. 

“Sorry,” he motions to the backseat, “Hop in!” 

“I take it you know who I am.” 

You’re not oblivious to your recognition, but with some guys it was just always a hit or miss. They either wanted you to take your top off or asked for some weird things.

“Are you kidding? I’m like your biggest fan.” He beams, going back on the road. 

You’re not good at accepting compliments, so all you can manage is a shy smile and a, “Thanks!”

You notice his set up of cameras and ask him about it, to which he says they’re just for protection. Throughout the ride you learn more about him, particularly that he was going something the next day called The Lesson. He had a very particular view about this digital world you both lived in, talking about these odd jobs he’d been doing along with trying to build up his following. In between talking about himself, he mentions Bobby and the events of last night from the video. 

“Oh right, Bobby.” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name. 

Bobby was a pain in your ass sometimes, acting all high and mighty all the time and just like he was the overall shit. 

“Yeah he’s alright. He could just tone it down a little.”

“Oh yeah - definitely, he was the same when he was a kid. Just pure chaotic energy.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

In between other conversations, Kurt brought back the spotlight to you, asking you about different people you hung out with. It was pleasant conversation, you felt like you were talking to an old friend and letting off some steam. The red flags hadn’t gone off just yet. 

To let loose and make you live a little, Kurt races past a red light and nearly misses being in a collision. 

It startles you but he assures you there’s no danger. 

“You trust me right?” He asks, glancing back to you.

“I mean, yeah.” 

The confirmation is validation to him. It’s all he needed to begin.

He picks up another passenger, an older man who definitely did not hide the way he was staring at your body. You’re thankful for sitting a little father from him but when Kurt initiates conversation with him, everything goes downhill.

“I know you from somewhere.” The man points out, his obvious staring makes you cringe as you stay silent.

“You’re that model, I’ve seen your stuff around Westwood. Bangin’ body.”

You can feel the anger in your chest rise as Kurt finally notices.

“What’s going on?” He glances to the back, meeting your shifting eyes.

The man ignores him. “Sweetheart when someone compliments you, the nice thing to do is smile.”

That did it.

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you shit!” You grit.

“Whoa! Whoa! Sir you can’t be saying that anymore.” Kurt changes lanes, ready to stop if the situation gets worse.

“She should be proud she doesn’t look like her people. All of ‘em just fat and lazy.”

“Excuse me?! My people?” You’re sure you don’t look the least bit intimidating but it doesn’t matter. You were willing to kick this man’s ass if need be.

Kurt pulls off the the side of the road, “Alright, get out.” 

“What? No, I paid for this ride fair and square. I’m not leaving for shit. I can say what I want.” He says adamantly.

“Sir if you make those comments again I’m going to have to cancel the Spree.”

Something clicks in Kurt’s head as he remembers the water bottles. 

He motions for you to take the passenger seat which you do without much hesitation. 

Kurt waits a minute before merging again, glancing at the man every so often and taking more desolate streets. You don’t notice the absence of cars and you definitely don’t notice when the man takes a bottle and practically chugs it. 

Kurt smirks as he slows down. “Hey maybe you should let them know you’re not going to make it.”

Confused, you glance at Kurt and then at the man who’s now starting to grab at his throat and coughing violently.  

Your eyes widen as you attempt to get Kurt to stop the car but he doesn’t move, instead he keeps his eyes trained on the road.

“Kurt, stop the car.”

The man’s coughs get worse by the second and he turns a very bright red. 

“Kurt! Stop the car!” 

You’re frozen, helpless to watch the man as he tries to grab at Kurt from behind but coughs up blood and passes out in the backseat. You slink back in your seat, utterly terrified of what just happened. 

Adrenaline and fear course through you. You side eye Kurt who is not as affected by this as you are as he merely readjusts his camera. 

You begin to hyperventilate and try the passenger door. When it doesn’t budge you shut your eyes and cry.

“I won’t say anything. I won’t I promise. I promise, Kurt. Please.”

Kurt sighs as he retrieves a piece of cloth from his pocket. Your eyes widen as he comes close and pins you in your seat and smothers you with the cloth. You struggle under him, pushing against his chest to no avail. 

The smell of the chloroform inundates your senses and in a matter of seconds you feel your eyes roll back and everything go black. 

Once you’re knocked out, Kurt takes both your phone and the other passengers to knock suspicion off of him. He has plans for the racist prick in the back, but for you, he has much bigger plans.

[whump-town]

I need hotch whump. Dad rossi being a total dad and the team helping hotch through his deep seated emotional trauma. Just the team helping hotch be emotionally open and maybe some crying and him getting hugs n shit?? And if you can, at least 3k words cuz hes sad and needs to use his words

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

(Fair warning, I feel like I couldn’t get Hotch’s script right. He has a unique way that he speaks and I just feel like I missed that. I hope I didn’t drop the ball but I’ve been working on this non-stop so I’ve kinda passed a point in my ability to tell. Bonus, this fits really well for a fix-it for this post that I made that hurt everyone. You can find that post here)

Word count: 5,452

He can feel himself falling apart. His thoughts are more than often filled with deterioration and self-deprecating harm. He knows it’s getting worse but he excuses it. If he can rationalize his thoughts, condone them, and recognize them then there’s no need to ask for help.

Especially, when he doesn’t deserve it.

The breath is kicked from his lungs as he opens the file in front of him. He’d gotten the call from the Dallas police department that morning and fielded the consult to himself. Normally, this would be the type of case JJ would handle but as soon as he heard the victims were blonde’s in their thirties he couldn’t let the case go to her. Except, a very important factor had been left out.

They were all mothers.

He finds himself looking down at half a dozen women who all look too much like Haley. 

Panic bubbles in his chest and a trembling hand pushes the case away. It’s not enough. He stands to his feet, leaning heavily on his desk to stop his knees from caving from beneath him. He’s paper left too long in the sun, warping. His print is no longer legible. His glue peeling away.

On the floor of his office, a step away from his desk, he falls to his knees. His breath is caught in his throat-- his tie an ever-tightening noose that leaves his mouth dry and his voice stuck. Logically, he can recognize his own symptoms. It’s a panic attack. Triggered because he’s never worked through his feelings. Never got over Haley. His incompetence. 

His failure. 

His brain can recognize that the pain in his chest shouldn’t kill him. His mind still draws the parallel to his own father. A chronic alcoholic who died in his office of a heart attack. An abuser. An asshole. 

What was that the team had said about him?

JJ had called him a bully.

Reid said he was a narcissist.

The hurt in Emily’s eyes as she deduced he doesn’t trust women as much as men.

Morgan said he’s a drill sergeant. 

So… maybe Hotch didn’t hit Jack. He’s never laid a hand on his son so he’s different from his father in that sole regard. He’s not a good father though. He’s not a good boss.

His team must loathe him.

Which means he’s not all that different from his father.

What does that leave? What does that make him besides a suit and tie? A terrified, sweat-soaked coward on an office floor. 

And there’s no wonder that he’s never made the time to work through his problems. Who is to talk to? Haley had known of his father. Enough to leave that subject alone. Even when he sat bolt upright in their bed, lost to his youth spent outrunning the hands of his father. She’d comforted him enough to get him back to sleep, holding him to her chest but never inquiring. Never pushing. 

The others have their own problems. Dave is a father without a son. Reid has a mother who’s taken care of for the better part of his whole life. Prentiss wants a child, a family so badly but she continues to have that torn from her grasp. JJ feels like she’s failed, Henry. Garcia is plagued by the images she sees daily. Morgan feels torn between his loyalty to this team and doing better for himself. 

So when should he fit in that time for himself? When does he silence them to talk about himself?

His phone vibrates on his desk. It’s a low, hollow sound but it snaps him to attention. The kind of sound that he could not ignore any more than a cry of pain from Jack. A case, more than likely. Maybe even an email from the Director or Strauss requesting his presence. 

His knees cave beneath him, a frustrated grunt leaving his mouth. He takes his fist and beats it into the carpet, hoping the pain that spikes up his arm will ground him. The world spins but he manages to stagger to his feet. Even if that means nearly losing his footing as the world dips suddenly. Curling that arm, pulling it protectively to his core, he manages to cross the room.

Except, there is no call to duty.

He’s greeted by a picture and an unknown number. 

It’s a newborn baby in the lap of someone but the important detail is the hospital bracelet on picture taker’s wrist and the distinct newness of the baby. The sight invokes a pang in his chest, reminding him of when Jack was that small. A youth blind to injustice and death. Before Hotch had gone and messed it all up.

A moment later, his phone goes off again. A single line of text but he knows immediately what it means.

“Learning how to smile again... I hope you are too.”

Elle.

He's not sure if he’s meant to respond so he doesn’t. It does spark a certain flame in his lungs-- he wouldn’t call it a breath of life but for once the inhale his raged lungs pull in doesn’t hurt. He falls into his desk chair, cradling his phone in his hand.

“You know,” JJ’s voice breaks through the silence of his office. She steps into the room with that blatant disregard that most of the team has. A mutual understanding that he’s given them-- as long as his door isn’t shut, they’re free to come in. 

As far as he sees, that openness is well understood by JJ, Morgan, and Garcia. He suspects their understanding comes from a creative source. A kind that Prentiss and Reid have taken their time in understanding.

He sees the way the two of them hesitate before knocking and announcing themselves. For what, he might ask if he did not already know the answer. The answer is on the tip of his tongue each morning as he shaves his face. It’s his last thought as he drifts off.

You don’t trust women as much as men.

“You’ve ruined me for all future employers.” JJ continues. Unaware of the fact that her audience is a bit lost.

I choose Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.

JJ moves closer, her arms falling from their defensive place across her chest. She smiles, her eyes dancing between his. There’s a flash there, of what she’s uncertain but as soon as it’s there it’s gone. She sees the bone-tired, ragged look of his large frame and she wonders when the last time he got a good night’s sleep was.

“You--” Hotch’s eyebrow’s knit together as he stutters to put together what she’s said. “I--I ruined you?” His brain is still reeling from the panic attack. He’s too exhausted to put together whatever trivial meaning her words are meant to have.

JJ chuckles lightly, perhaps she should have opened that better. “You didn’t ruin me, literally,” she explains with a smile. Honest, she loves him like a brother but he can be as thick as mud sometimes. For someone who’s entire job revolves around understanding people, Hotch often misses the point. 

Not that she minds explaining that to him. 

“I mean,” she says, sitting herself down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She pulls her legs underneath herself, not afraid to take the time to get comfortable. “You’re too kind. You give so much to this team that if you ever leave I’m not sure how any of us will function without you.”

He blanches. This seems out of left field to him. 

She smiles at his reaction, reaching across his desk to squeeze his hand. “Hotch,” she reminds him softly, “yesterday you brought me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You made it for me because you knew I hadn’t taken a break.”

He can hardly understand how making someone a peanut butter and jelly sandwich constitutes a pat on the back. He does it all the time for Jack. When he was making JJ one yesterday he’d ended up making one for Reid and Prentiss as well. The two of them poking and badgering him until he’d relented. 

“Bosses don’t do that,” JJ assures him. “Not normal ones anyway.” Sensing that he’s not really putting this together, she rises from her chair. Stepping into his personal space she can see just how awful he looks. With all the tenderness she can manage, she presses a kiss to his cheek. Encircling his shoulders in her arms, she realizes that he’s trembling. “I love and appreciate you and I’m just… None of them tell you how much you mean to us. I just want to make sure you remember that.”

It takes him a moment but he hugs her back. Where his body is stiff with tension, she’s warm and soft. He breaks for just a moment, allowing her words to warm his chest before resigning himself back to his darkness. To his self-hatred. 

JJ gives his back a quick rub before pulling away. “You need to take a nap,” she informs him. “You look like shit.”

He smiles, mustering up all his energy into convincing her that he’s not on the knife’s edge of falling over into darkness. “I’m fine,” he assures her. Besides, he motions to the file on his desk. “I’ll get some coffee and finish this consult. Then I’ll go home.” 

She looks at the file in question and decides to save him the trouble. She picks it up despite his anxiety-filled voice calling her name out. What she finds shocks her but not for the reason he’d thought. These women do look like her but their resemblance to Haley is… “Oh, Hotch…”

He can’t look at her. “They…” he clears his throat. “I didn’t want you to see it because I knew they were blonde and that kind of stuff really gets to you but--” He’s said too much. He’s admitting that he knows they look like Hailey. Maybe even that it bothered him as much as it’s bothering her.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” JJ whispers, her emotions getting the best of her. Of course, he looks like shit. He’d done something kind to spare her and ended up looking at dead mutilated women who look too much like Haley. “You’re too kind for your own good.” She tucks the file to her chest, where she knows he won’t make a quick grab for it. 

“JJ…”

She shakes her head. “Go home. Go get coffee. Take a nap. I don’t care what you do but you are not getting this file back because I promise that whatever seeing these women will do to me is going to be less damaging than seeing them is to you.” She doesn’t spare him a second more before leaving his office. Leaving him to do what he pleases just not allowing that file to be one of them. 

She turns in the doorway to his office, offering him a smile. “By the looks of you, I’d recommend taking that nap.” 

He doesn’t but her words stick with him for days. 

I love and appreciate you. It’s most unlike the voice in his head reminding him that he’s a bully. A narcissist. 

When he goes to bed, arms wrapped around his chest and tears threatening to spill down his face… he thinks about those four simple words. His cheek stings where she’d kissed him and for a moment his chest burns again with an unfamiliar light. 

He remembers these words over and over. 

He starts to believe them but that doesn’t mean he changes. 

Then a case sends him home. His hometown is hardly an hour away from Quantico. Standing in front of the team, his hands buried in his pockets to hide the way they tremble, he tells them they won’t need the jet or the GPS. He knows where they’re going. 

He knows it too well.

Prentiss doesn’t start second-guessing her boss until he pulls off the main road. Reid will testify, he second-guessed Hotch the minute the man told them he didn’t need a map and turned the GPS off. Neither says anything but Hotch is still aware of the weight of their silence. He doesn’t feel comfortable offering them the reassurance that he knows where he’s going so he chooses to say nothing. The whole car opts to not comment on how it is that he knows where he’s going.

“Detective Carter!” Garcia is the first person out of the second car jammed packed with the other members of the team.

In the second car, there was a lot of aired criticism. Ninety-eight percent of which came from Morgan but upon pulling into the station, thirty minutes before the GPS estimated arrival time, he can’t complain. It does leave him curious. It’s not often they drive to crime scenes from Quantico but they never stray from the GPS. 

“I’m Penelope,” she explains to the older man. It’s clear the detective is taken aback by the sight of Garcia but the old man just smiles and takes her hand. Kindly he smiles and Garcia only beams that much more. “These are the agents I told you about.” She turns back to the others, lined up like a kindergarten class rather than a ragtag group of highly trained professionals. “JJ, Dr. Reid, SSAs Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan, and our prestigious and very handsome leader-”

“Aaron?”

Prentiss had noticed Hotch’s hesitation the moment he put the car in park. He masterfully hid anything that might have given her a why but she’d still seen his stress become gradually more apartment as he got closer to the precinct.

“Jesus,” the detective shakes his head. He doesn’t give Hotch the opportunity to step away or even get a word out. The mood shifts as Hotch can’t hide the way he flinches as the man pulls him into a hug. “You were fifty pounds soaking wet the last time I saw you,” the detective admits.

Hotch can’t look at the detective and he can’t look at his team. 

Mercifully, Prentiss calls out to the older man. “I hate to push here,” she lies, “I would like to get working as soon as possible. I’m not sure how many more dead girls I can stand to see.” There are a few mumbled responses from the team, all agreeing with Prentiss. 

Hotch doesn’t notice. He stands in the spot the detective left him in. Eyes on the gravel, he’s struggling but he pushes it down. He has a job and the job has always come before physical comfort. 

He hangs his head and he gets through the day knowing that he’ll be allotted his personal time in a hotel room soon enough. He can break down there.

And he does. 

And then he has a nightmare that wakes up the entire team. 

He’s shaking so badly when he finally opens his door that he can’t even play it off. They know. 

“Let it out son,” Rossi whispers, holding Hotch tight to his chest. “It’s alright, it’s okay.” He rubs his hand down Hotch’s back. Something in his chest locking tight and stiff at the way Hotch melts, unable to even stand. Dave has always known, in one way or another, that Hotch’s childhood was a litany of things done wrong.

He’d seen the kid’s back, the crisscrossing pattern he’d only ever seen on dead people. Scars. Someone had hit Hotch so hard as a child to leave marks on his body into adulthood. If Dave had to guess, he’d say a belt. Given Hotch’s soft accent and tendencies, Dave knows he’d probably be right. Belts are loved by Southerners. 

Beat the sin out of your children. 

See if they ever come home. 

Rossi looks at Hotch, the man struggling to pull himself back together. Sometimes they do come home and that’s worse.

“This place,” Hotch whispers, eyes falling to the carpet. “This town is…” His eyes move to the window on the adjacent wall. If the sun were up, he would be able to see the house he spent his youth in. The drive-way where his father bounced his head off the gravel for dropping a can of green beans. The window by the main door that his father broke smacking his mother against it. “It’s an awful place and I-- I will be glad when we’re able to leave it.” 

Reid, of all people, is the first person to offer a condolence, a way out. He clears his throat, anxiously moving from foot to foot. “You could go back home,” he offers. “It’s not a long drive, you would be back with Jack before the sun even comes up.” Seeing that his idea isn’t being torn down but rather the others seem to agree this is actually a perfectly good solution, he continues. “You could work from the office with Garcia. We’ve all done it. I certainly wouldn’t think differently of you if you went home.” 

Reid sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, stepping forward and sitting on the edge of Hotch’s bed. “This town gives me the heebie-jeebies, anyway.” His small shiver lightens something in Hotch’s chest because not even Hotch can twist the genius’s actions. Reid is being sincere and Hotch hasn’t messed up. They don’t hate him. They don’t think he’s weak. 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Dave speaks up, shaking his head. “I feel it creeping into my bones.”

There seems to be a unanimous decision made in that immediate moment that no one’s going to push him. They’re not frustrated about being woken up in the middle of the night by his terrified screams. No one is going to force him to tell them about the detective. 

They solve the case and rescue the last girl from the clutches of their UNSUB. This time, Detective Carter does his job. He doesn’t send an obviously beaten and abused boy back home to his father. 

They save the girl the way no one ever saved Hotch but he doesn’t consider himself irreparable anymore.

He closes his eyes and remembers what it felt like when Dave held him.

Son.

I love and appreciate you.

I wouldn’t think differently of you.

He starts to feel loved and he’s so broken-- there’s something in his mind that just equates their affection for a need for him to be better-- he decides he has to prove he’s worth it. 

JJ has formed a habit of squeezing his elbow when she passes him. 

Rossi pulls him into one-armed hugs.

Reid brings him a coffee and smiles shyly when they pass one another in the halls.

But he can’t do anything right.

“Prentiss!” 

He doesn’t clear the second room properly as they raid a house and all he can do is put himself between her and the danger. There’s only a split second to think about it. She���s a head shorter than him. So the shot that would take her head off hits him center mass. 

There’s a sickening crack that rings through the room as he hits the wall behind them. His head bouncing off the wall. He doesn’t hear her cry his name out.

Prentiss’s hands shake but her own shot hits its mark. The UNSUB falls limply to the ground just as Hotch had. Despite every fiber of her wanting to double back and make sure Hotch isn’t dead, she moves forward. She can see her bullet embedded in the opposing wall. The hole in the UNSUB’s head is visible proof but she can’t walk away from him until she finds no pulse and moves his gun away.

“Agent down,” she calls shakily. Her knees almost give out from beneath her when she turns to see him. 

All six feet of her boss is crumpled into a limp pile. His neck is bent, chin resting against his sternum. She can’t tell if he’s even breathing, the vest strapped to his chest swallows any movement that might or might not be there. “Hotch?” She calls, hoping that he'll stir. That he’ll make a noise or something.

She sees blood.

“Hotch is down,” she cries over the radio. “Hotch is down and we need medics.” She pulls at his tie, swallowing down her own need to cry. To sob as her friend’s blood covers her skin. “It’s a--a-” she pulls the tie around his neck free and the blood starts to flow twice as fast. “Fuck,” she places her hand over the wound. Her hot tears stinging her eyes. “It’s a neck wound.”

A death sentence. 

She can feel his pulse against her palm. Each beat a little fainter than the last.

“Don’t you die,” she rasps. Her emotions are bubbling to the surface as her panic and adrenaline get worse. “Come on you stubborn bastard,” but her insults are laced with worry. “Hotch,” she pats his pale cheek. Attempting and failing to rouse him. On his cheek, her hand is left perfectly preserved by his crimson blood. 

“Agent,” the medics come in. Someone puts a hand on her shoulder but she can’t pull away. She can’t let him bleed out. “Agent we’ve got it.” 

I love and appreciate you.

Those words are the last thing Hotch thinks before his head hits the wall. He just has to hope she meant it. 

“Hey.”

She has to wait days to wring him out. To give him a proper piece of her mind. They are supposed to be passed this. They did pass this a long time ago. Time and time again he’s proven that he does trust her. After Foyet, they’d become the semblance of friends. She considers him family. 

Instead of offering him the immediate bitchfest he’s more than deserved, she offers him a passing-- “Hey, yourself.” Seeing him awake settles her but she has to be mad with him. She is mad with him. Even if she wants to hug him. He is her friend and she values him. It hurts to see him in pain.

After a moment, she looks up from the book she’s reading. Paying him just enough attention that she notices how uneasy he is. It makes her question her chosen silent treatment. It’s clearly not helping and the last thing she wants is to stress him out more. So she reaches between them and takes his hand. “You’re life isn’t less important than mine.” 

Her words take him by surprise. She can see the words make their impact. His brows furrow in confusion but he doesn’t say anything. Not for a long moment. He’s stalling. “I didn’t say that,” is what he settles on. 

She looks up at him and she’s disappointed. They’re profilers and he settles on deflection. She can’t say she’s surprised, he always chooses deflection. She’s just as stubborn as him though and she’s not afraid to push a little. “Your actions did.”

“Prentiss, I couldn’t--”

She lets go of his hand. For a moment, her anger gets the better of her. He gets the message and stops talking but the damage has been done. Of course, he’s not going to say that his life has less value than hers. He’s not stupid. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it.

“We’re partners, right?” She sits forward in the chair. “You trust me?” She already knows the answers. She knows everything he’s going to do. 

Hie scowls and he opens his mouth before he shuts it. He shakes his head as he says, “of course.”

She reaches back out to him, taking his hand again. His fingers are cold, his body still not fully recovered from the blood transfusions he needed. She needs something like this to never occur again. “Then it’s your job,” she tells him. “To cover my ass when I mess up and it’s my job to cover yours.” 

He doesn’t look at her. He can’t. He could have gotten her killed. Can’t she understand that? She should be furious at him for putting her life at risk. Not trying to go over protocol. He understands, though, that she’s trying to make a point so he nods his understanding. 

“I trust you with my life,” she whispers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you trust yourself with it?”

She’s right of course. If there was time for him to step in the way, there was time for her to move out of the way. A thousand things could have happened and, in the end, his actions weren’t warranted. This hits his chest in a tight, painful bundle. He has to look away from her. Clenching his teeth against the tears threatening to sting his eyes.

“Hotch, you gave me a family.” She squeezes his fingers, feeling her own emotions bubbling right back to the surface. It’s out of character, she can recognize that but something happened in that house during the raid. Something she never wants to happen again. “You are a part of my family, whether you like that or not.”

He turns to look at her, his mouth unable to tell her that he knows and he does like it but that’s okay. They’ve always been able to understand passing glancing. He offers her a lopsided, forced smile when she rubs her thumb over his rough hands. 

“I love you,” she says with a roll of her eyes because she’s Emily Prentiss and she can’t take herself seriously for too long. She stands from the chair at his side and knocks the back of her hand against his shoulder. “And,” she adds, “don’t take any bullets to the neck for me, alright? I’m starting to feel like I owe you.”

He nods his understanding, still not trusting his voice.

Just as JJ did, she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

Prentiss feels pretty safe at that moment. He’s high as balls and she doubts he’s capable of anything more than a grumbled complaint. 

He’s full of grumbled complaints but this time he doesn’t offer her one. 

He doesn’t spare Morgan the same courtesy. 

“Hotch,” Morgan manages, taking a deep breath to stop himself from losing his cool. “I love you, man. You know I do but if you don’t stand still--” Honest, Morgan’s seen Henry and Jack behave better. The soft corrector does the job though and Hotch lets Morgan shoulder some of his weight. Leaning into Morgan as they walk.

He knows he asked Hotch to lean into him. He said it would be okay but to feel the way Hotch trusts him, the way he stiffens in pain instead of masking it… Morgan has to clear his throat. “Hotch?”

Hotch is limping the whole way. Getting shot in the neck sucks but hitting a wall and breaking ribs isn’t any better. Through gritted teeth, he replies, “yes.”

“Don’t scare us like that again, alright?” Morgan keeps the pace going, forcing Hotch to keep moving even when he pauses as Morgan’s words take him by surprise. Morgan’s on a roll, though, and he’s got to get it off his chest. He can’t let Hotch think that Morgan wants this. “I can’t… This team…” it’s harder than he wants to admit. “I’m not ready to lead this team. I don’t… I don’t want to, man.”

Hotch remains silent. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say but he’s exhausted and he’s not sure he’s got it in him to tell Morgan that won’t happen. It might. 

“We left you the couch,” Morgan changes the subject. He steers Hotch through the opening of the jet, forcing him in the direction of the couch. As soon as Hotch is seated, Morgan excuses himself. He ducks away, taking his own seat and putting his music on. 

A proper distraction from the emotions burning his throat.

David Rossi knew the moment he met Aaron Hotchner that he would take the world by storm. Through the years, Rossi watched that rip him apart. Being unyielding and selfless is good in measure but too often Rossi found himself holding the younger man together. His hands interlaced over a bullet wound, holding him upright as his lungs rebel from smoke inhalation, and, on more than one occasion, watching him push himself past the point of no return.

David Rossi also knew Aaron Hotchner was going to be a problem child. Unlike the other interns, Hotch was married, had gone to law school, and had a successful career. A state attorney turned federal agent… Rossi was initially skeptical. He got a wise-crack, no-nonsense, hot-headed nerd dressed in mediocre suits but, Rosis had to hand it to him, the kid had spunk. So Rossi put in the time. 

He trained a prodigy and he watched that prodigy fail and break. 

But Hotch never quit.

Not after Gideon and the bomb that killed nearly their whole team. 

The Fisher King and Elle Greenaway.

Tobias Hankle.

New York and Kate Joyner.

Strauss.

Foyet… 

On the jet’s couch, some twenty-- hell, maybe thirty-- years after their initial meeting David Rossi is gently combing his fingers through that bull-headed new kid’s hair. His thoughts are actively drifting away. Back to times when he was the Unit Chief and Hotch was a lanky kid. Prone to accidents of spilled coffee stains on crisp white dress shirts and knocking files off his desk with his elbows. Dave and Jason had an ongoing joke that the poor kid should have come with a warning label sewed into the ass of his suits. 

He cracks an eye open, aware of a shifting presence. Emily. He offers her a small smile, “anything I can help you with, bella?” His voice is deep, bothered with exhaustion, and tinged with an unsettled sadness. 

But that’s all part of the job.

They get the bad guys and stop them from hurting people. Only, sometimes they become the hurt-- the victims. 

Hotch just added his name to another serial killer’s list of victims. His name is starting to appear a lot these days. 

Prentiss shakes her head. She’d been sitting on the other side of the jet and for a moment it occurred to her that from her vantage point she couldn’t tell if Hotch was breathing or not. Panic struck her center mass and she’d risen to her feet, clearing half the jet to get to him. To be close enough to see his chest is rising. To see if he's still breathing.

“I thought he wasn’t breathing,” she tells Rossi. “I just… it freaked me out.”

Rossi nods his understanding and shakes his head sympathetically, but not for Emily. 

He’s not sure what Garcia has planned but he’d put money down on the fact that Hotch isn’t ready for it.

Hotch is not even through the glass doors at BAU when the sound of heels prefaces Penelope Garcia shouting down the hall. He takes a step back, glancing at the others in confusion as they chuckle. Like they know what’s about to happen. He moves back to the hall, nodding his head at a rapidly approaching Garcia. 

“Sir!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Garcia.”

She comes to a stuttering halt, taking a deep breath as she steadies herself. 

Something about it, he can’t explain it, strikes him as humorous. He shakes his head and smiles. Next thing he knows she’s thrown her arms around him. Hotch raises an eyebrow, his confusion not muffling the smile still spread across his face. “Whatever was that for?” He wouldn’t lie by stating the feelings he has at this moment are anything other than happily surprised. 

Garcia’s smile is a twisted happy smile laced with sadness being overtaken. “You stopped smiling for so long, I-- It just made me so happy to see you happy.”

And he realizes she’s right. 

He hasn’t smiled in a long time but… slowly, his team has wormed their way into breaking that. 

Son.

I love and appreciate you.

I wouldn’t think differently of you.

You’re a part of my family. 

I love you, man.

"Please, " Garcia says softly. "Don't ever do that again, okay? You scared me--" she sucks in a breath and it sounds so much like an approaching sob that he reaches out and pulls her back into a hug. 

"I'll be more careful, " he promises. "No more close calls." 

She squeezes him gently, aware of his ribs. "Good, " she whispers, "because I'm tired of losing people I love."

And he remembers that next time he sinks. He reminds himself constantly. 

Aaron Hotchner is loved. He has a family to come home to. They need him. 

And he doesn't always have to be the strong one.

[holykillercake]

Hazy Justice - 02

01 03

pairing: Cop!Smoker x MilitaryDoctor!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: After eight years serving your country in a war, you returned to your hometown as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the best hospitals in the country. You were expecting a calmer life now, but suddenly you see yourself choosing between your brain and your heart, light and dark, justice and evil.

notes: I guess you saw the gif already! We have the introduction of a new character!

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 ����𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

Stiff neck and a headache. This is what you get for sleeping on your living room floor. 

You took a quick shower and some painkillers before heading for another day of work. On your silent drive towards the hospital, your mind ran through various things. 

The first being the list of your patients, the ones you had to check upon first, their conditions, and find out the attending who took care of them during the night, ask them about possible complications and current situation. 

The second subject hovered your head as more of a question, though. Had you finally met your neighbor, or was it just a dream, the result of your exhausted state? 

You spotted a cute restaurant when you stopped at the red light, perhaps you´d have lunch there today, it was near the hospital, and the place gave you a ¨good food¨ vibe. 

The image of the man you dreamed about wandered its way back into your thoughts, despite your difficulty of seeing a perfect picture. His hair was actually the only thing you were sure about. White, a single lock was falling on his forehead, but it didn´t look like it was meant to be there. Maybe it was just ¨end of the day¨ hairstyle. 

You parked your car on your designated spot and looked around the parking lot. It was the first time you´ve seen it so crowded. It made sense, though. 

A yellow Jaguar drove in a couple of minutes after you did, and since that was the only yellow car you had seen so far, and you spot the small white stuffed bear hanging on the mirror, you knew it was Law. 

He left his car and walked over to you with a strange expression.

¨Y/N-ya, what are you doing here?¨ always so straight to the point.

¨Well, good morning, Law. How are you?¨ the man rolled his eyes, but you refused to answer until he learned how to talk to people properly. 

¨Morning, Y/N-ya. I´m good. What are you doing here?¨

¨What do you mean? I work here.¨ you gave him a duh face. 

¨Yeah, but not today.¨ your head tilted to the side ¨Today is your day off.¨

¨My day off?¨ you were so used to not having days off that it didn´t even cross your mind. You asked the HR person everything but days off. ¨What am I supposed to do on my day off?¨

¨I don´t know, Y/N-ya. Go explore the city or have some rest. Today you only get inside this hospital wounded or dead.¨ he said bitterly, patted your shoulder, and entered the building. 

The only thing besides work you had planned for the day was paying a visit to that cute restaurant, so it took you some good thinking to come up with a plan. Maybe Tashigi was free, and you two could do something together. 

<Mornin´ Tashigi! U free today?>

<Morning, Y/N-san! I just need to take somethings to the office then I´m free!>

<Do u mind if we meet there?>

<Of course not! Smoker-san will be there too I think. You said you wanted to meet him.>

<Perfect then! See you in a bit ~>

<See you, Y/N-san!>

Tashigi´s station was inside the Justice District, so it didn´t take long for you to reach it. The journey was peaceful, and the view was something to take note of. Beautiful leafy trees were strategically planted on the sidewalks, offering shadows for those who preferred to walk, no scratched paint in any house, store, or building. They all looked recently finished. The asphalt was shiny and without bumps or holes, making every car trip smooth.

You entered the Police Department and couldn´t help but feel a bit lost.

¨The new Commissioner made quite a few changes in the place.¨ you mumbled to yourself. 

Back in the day when Sengoku was the Chief of the Police Headquarters, the halls were lighter and brighter, the furniture was softer, and it smelled like spring - if that is possible. After he retired, a man named Sakazuki took his place, and to be honest, he seemed pretty decent, but he deals with justice differently, and the place shows. 

First, it was damn cold; the AC was making his money worth it; the smell was the second thing that hit you. The strong odor of bleach, the freezing temperature, and the morbid LEDs on the bleak grey ceiling made you feel like you were in a morgue. Everything else was made out of either leather or metal. 

This Sakazuki guy was definitely on the list of the people you didn´t want to meet. 

¨Hi, can you help me? I´m looking for-¨

¨Y/N-san!¨ Tashigi yelled, almost losing balance and falling on her face. 

¨Hey, careful there!¨ you hugged her. ¨You´re good to go?¨

¨Yeah, I just...¨ she turned her head around a couple of times, looking for something. She smiled and waved at someone ¨Smoker-san! Here!¨

The man was getting out of a room, sunglasses on and a cigar on his mouth. He was tall and seemed muscular under the leather jacket, but what caught your attention was his hair, the same white hair you remembered from last night. Only this time it was completely put back, no loose locks. 

The change in his expression made you think he had recognized you as well, and the thought of Tashigi´s boss being your front-door neighbor made you chuckle. 

¨That´s what I call a coincidence.¨ he said and took off the shades. You struggled not to gasp when his light-brown eyes met yours.

¨Right? I was so tired last night that I thought you were a dream.¨ you giggled, and he broke a smile. 

¨You know each other?¨ Tashigi asked.

¨We´re neighbors! It took a while for us to meet, though.¨ 

¨Tough week.¨ he touched the nape of his neck. 

¨Yeah, it was. We even saw you yesterday, Y/N-san!¨ the young officer said, confusing you ¨The Sora park, we were there too! But since you looked so busy, I didn´t want to interrupt.¨

So much happened, but you couldn´t recall anything. 

You just focused on starting the triage process. Determining the severity of the patient´s condition, assign a priority level, taking care of those who could be assisted in the local, and having the severely injured ones being sent to the hospital where you knew Marco would take good care of them. 

You were immensely wrong when you guessed that the triage process would be easier, thinking that the majority of the victims were fatalities.

 Apparently, the park was celebrating its 5th anniversary, so people from not only the different districts but other cities were all gathered in the park. 

¨Sorry, I didn´t... see you guys.¨ you said a little apologetic and lost. 

¨No apologies needed.¨ Smoker said ¨It was pretty intense. Although we were not supposed to spread knowledge of our presence in the scene.¨ he gave her a disguised rebuke, and you watched your friend get redder than a bell pepper, apologizing. 

You stared at each other for two seconds before you burst into laughter.

¨You´re still as clumsy as I remember, Tashigi.¨ you wiped a few tears ¨But don´t worry, this information dies with me.¨ you turned to Smoker, and he nodded, trusting you as a military. 

¨S-Should we go, Y/N-san?¨ 

¨Yes, of course! Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Smoker.¨ 

¨Pleasure is all mine, Y/N.¨ you shook hands again, staring each other in the eyes. 

His eyes slowly traveled to your lips, and you noticed that you were biting it, blushing more than Tashigi. 

¨Well, see you, then!¨ you let go of his hand and rushed to the door. 

¨Y/N,¨ you turned with an audible hm? and raised brows ¨knock if you need anything.¨ you nodded and smiled. 

¨Will do.¨ 

~

¨I´ll have the Kenafa, please.¨ Tashigi told the waiter with so much of a look in the menu. 

The cute restaurant you drove by earlier was called Terracota, and it was specialized in foreign cuisine. Even with the names and ingredients, you couldn´t figure out something you´d like, so you decided to order the same thing as the officer. 

¨That´s what eight years of ration do to you.¨ you joked.  

¨What have you been eating these days?¨ 

¨Whatever they have on the menu at the hospital. Sandwiches, pasta, sandwiches, sandwiches, chocolate bars, sandwiches...¨ you laughed ¨Haven´t had time to think about cooking yet.¨

¨Take outs are simpler, right?¨ you nodded ¨So, what do you think about Smoker-san?¨ 

¨Looks decent, polite, hard worker-¨

¨Aw, come on, Y/N-san! That´s not what I asked!¨ she gave you a suggestive look ¨He´s not taken, you know.¨

You open and closed your mouth a couple of times, words refusing to come out.

¨What? Tashigi!¨

¨I´m just saying!¨ she held her hands up, defending herself in the middle of giggles ¨But seriously, Y/N-san, I think he liked you too.¨

¨Ok, first, I never said I liked him, and second, I just got here. Can´t really think about this stuff.¨ 

¨Well, you should consider, at least. He doesn´t go out a lot, so...¨ she prolonged the last word ¨...maybe it was fate that put you two as neighbors.¨ you scoffed.

¨You believe in this stuff?¨

¨I do. Sometimes we see some crazy things...¨ her expression frowned ¨...it helps if I believe in fate. And the reason behind things... you know?¨ you nodded when she looked at you, even though you didn´t.

For your salvation, the waiter came back with the amuse-bouche, breaking the uncomfortable moment.

 You didn´t want to tell her that you stopped believing that everything happens for a reason a long time ago.

¨But you said you have a brother here, right? Have you seen him already?¨

¨Unfortunately, no. He´s out of town now, so I´ll have to wait. God, I miss him so much!¨ a smile grew on your lips with the idea of seeing him again. 

¨Oh yeah, you told me he runs businesses. Do you know the names? Maybe I know or visited before, or even know him!¨

¨Of course! There´s the Casino Verde, the Hotel Verde and a restaurant called Suna. I´ve never be-¨ 

The girl in front of you turned purple as she choked on her food, a raucous cough called everyone´s attention while one hand covered her mouth and the other smacked her chest. 

¨Y-Your brother is C-Crocodile?¨ she asked with a hushed voice, still trying to fight her food from coming out. 

You were expecting her to know him, but the explosive noodle reaction caught you a little off guard. 

¨Yeah... are you ok?¨ you offered her a napkin which she gladly accepted.

¨I´m sorry about this, it´s just...¨ she paused a bit, brows furrowing while her fingers tore the napkin you gave her. Then she took a deep breath and recomposed herself ¨... he´s very famous, you know? He basically runs the Light District!¨

You knew he was rich and powerful, but to say that he ran the most extravagant district was a surprise. A good one, though. You couldn't help but feel proud of him. 

You remember all the sacrifices he made when you were two just kids lost in this world. All the humiliating jobs he´d work at to buy you food. The pain of having his childhood taken from him at such young age. 

He became a man to protect you. He never let anything or anyone hurt you, he never let you starve even if that meant he´d be going to sleep with nothing but a glass of tap water in his stomach.

You felt a burning sensation on your nose, and your eyes started to water, bringing a genuine smile to rise on your lips and tears roll down your cheeks. You didn´t mind it, though. You were too happy.

¨Yeah... he is my brother.¨ 

[earthblooded]

Just a drink - Rayllum Modern AU

Rayllum - Modern AU

Rating: M

Warning: Suggestions to adult-themed content, but nothing explicit.

Synopsis: Rayla's roommate, Nyx, convinces her to take a break from work for a night out, leading to a fun night, but eventual regret.

This is a fic that's been in my head for way longer than any other fic I've written for TDP but I never really had the time or energy to write it. I still technically don't have the time to write it, but I sure did find the energy tonight.

It'll probably turn into a multi-chap fic at some point, but I'll hold off uploading to ao3 until I intend to do so

“C’mon Rayla, you work yourself to death.”

Rayla sighed, leaning away from her laptop. She wasn’t a workaholic as many people pegged her to be, she just liked to keep herself busy. Getting any work done was becoming more and more challenging with her roommate breathing down her neck. This was the fourth time she had asked her to go out drinking.

“I can’t Nyx, it’s a Sunday and I need to be up early for work tomorrow.” Rayla chewed on her lip, glancing at the time – 8 pm – she still had time to get some reports finished before an early night.

“Well, everyone says Sunday is the new Friday, so maybe you should just come out.”

She stopped typing to raise her eyebrow, casting a skeptical look at her friend. “Who says that?”

“People.” Nyx answered, before waving her hand dismissively, “and anyway, you need the time to chill out. You’ve clearly been stressed because you keep snapping at me about dumb stuff.”

Rayla considered this, wincing when she recalled several occasions on that same day she had been short with Nyx about housekeeping, turning off music, her poor habits... “Fine, I’ll come out, but you can’t pester me about this again for another month.”

“Deal.”

Rayla gave her a week to break that deal.

____________________________________________________

“I thought we we’re just going for drinks.” Rayla said, as they queued to get into a club.

“I think they do drinks here.” Nyx nodded, pointing to a poster for drink deals on the wall. “Look, 2 for 1 on shots.”

“You know what I mean – like beer in the local, not clubbing.” Rayla watched a group of young women staggered out, giggling. “Nyx, you know I hate this, please can we go somewhere else?”

“No was Jose. You’re going to let loose tonight and tomorrow you will thank me.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

_____________________________________________________

Heaviness was the only word she could use to describe how she felt waking up the next day, her ringtone blaring in her ear. She wasn’t hungover, she barely drank anything, but she was tired – having arrived home at ridiculous-o-clock.

Home... no not quite, she realised, as she opened her eyes. Her bedroom didn’t have stacks of canvases and paint pots on every available surface. She sat up suddenly as her eyes scanned the room, trying to identify anything familiar to give her a clue as to where she was. Her clothing was scattered about the floor, her purse and contents among them. Light cast in through floor-to-ceiling windows, adorned with vine plants wrapping around the curtain poles. Sheer white curtains hung from them.

She pulled the duvet around her shoulders, feeling exposed despite still wearing underwear. She had a fairly good inkling as to what happened but there was one thing missing...

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Ahh. This is what happened.

She was greeted by a man in the doorway of the room, his brown hair ruffled, pupils blown wide as he regarded her and his t-shirt neckline was askew revealing the pink mark she had left him on his collarbone. This along with the state of the room, painted a fairly clear image of what had happened, even to those not involved.

In his hands, he held a tray with a small French-press, a couple of mugs and a plate of some sort of pastry. He crossed the room, setting down the tray on the bedside table as he sat opposite her.

“Coffee?” He offered, pouring a mug.

“Hmm,” she smiled, accepting it. As their fingers brushed, her mind flashed to the night before – his breath in her ear, lips on her skin, hands and body tending to her needs – she shifted uncomfortably as she felt that same heat rise up in her again. “Is this how you treat all the girls you bring home?” She asked, her eyebrow raised.

“I’ve never really had a one-night stand, so no... but maybe I’ll start.”

“Oh, just the one night we’re having, is it?” Rayla said, feigning offence. She’d never felt so bold before, but with this guy, she felt comfortable.

“Not if I can help it.” he replied, his eyes landing on her lips as he leaned forward.

Rayla’s ringtone blared again and the man’s head dropped into the crook of her neck as he groaned. She laughed, consoling him by smoothing down his shaggy hair as she picked up her phone.

Nyx was calling... holy shit 6 missed calls.

Her eyes flicked to the clock in the corner of the screen – 8am.

“Shit!” Rayla sprang free from his embrace and his lips on her neck. She bundled her clothing in her arms and hurried to the door. “I’m sorry, I have to go - I need to go home and change before work.”

“Wait, what about your coffee?”

“Sorry... you drink mine. You’ll need it after the night we had.” Really not the time to flirt right now, Rayla she chastised herself, lingering by the door as she watched him rise to protest further.

“What about breakfast? My aunt always said that breakfast was the most important meal of the day.” He raised an eyebrow, in an attempt to tempt her... and it almost worked.

“I don’t have time. I’m sorry – we'll do this another time and we’ll have breakfast, okay?” He sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Great, where’s your bathroom?”

Rayla came out a few moments later, having dressed and made herself semi-presentable for the commute back to the apartment. She found the man in the hallway, a brown bag in his hand held out to her.

“What’s this?”

“You should never miss breakfast.” He smiled, placing the bag into her waiting hand. “Here’s yours, to go.”

___________________________________________________

It was almost 10am and Rayla was sat in her office, staring at the reports she had yet to finish. The ones she should have finished last night if Nyx hadn’t have dragged her away.

Nyx. Rayla had just enough time to change and freshen up when she got back before heading to the office, but hadn’t caught up with Nyx yet.

The dial tone rang twice before she picked up.

“Oh, my gods, Rayla?”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t have time to call you back and you weren’t home when I got in.”

“I went to work early. Are you okay?” She asked, but gave little time for Rayla to answer before she continued. “When you didn’t answer for the fourth time last night, I assumed you’d been kidnapped. Police said I had to wait 24 hours before reporting you missing.” She grumbled the last part and Rayla shook her head in amusement. Rayla felt lucky to have someone who cared so much for her, even if she was a bit ridiculous sometimes.

“Sorry for worrying you. I was with a...” she grimaced, knowing full well how Nyx would react “guy.”

Nyx squealed on the other end, but Rayla knew to hold the phone away from her ear and had prepared in time. “Tell me everything! Who is he?”

“Some guy from the club.”

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know”

“Okay... great.” She said sarcastically. “Well, I know you never ever put out on the first night, so what happened? Were you drunk?”

“No, Nyx, I had that one tequila shot you forced me to drink and that it.” Rayla heard a knock at the door, and glanced up to see Soren wave at her through the window. She raised a finger, indicating she just needed a minute. “Look, I promise I’ll tell you everything later. I need to get back to work.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Nyx said before hanging up.

Rayla sighed – telling Nyx was definitely a mistake she’d live to regret.

“Hey Soren, come in.”

“Happy Monday, boss.” Soren said, striding in, as chipper as he always was. He was her second-in-command in their team. His up-beat attitude meant that she delegated a lot of the more hands-on work to him, while she worked on the nitty-gritty in the background. “New guy is here; you want me to send him in?”

Recruitment wasn’t something that she usually delegated to Soren – she had little faith in his judgement based on his previous hires – however, she was called away to other meetings on the day of interviews and so the responsibility fell to Soren, begrudgingly.

Rayla picked up the neat stack of documents on her desk, ready for the new recruit to sign his life away. “Yes, please – Callum, is it?” She read from the contract at the top of the pile.

Soren nodded, beckoning the new starter in. From her peripheral, she saw Callum walk into the room and she raised her head to greet him.

“Callum, sorry I missed the...” she trailed off as familiar forest-green eyes met hers. He was a lot more put together than he was a mere two hours ago – his hair smoothed tidily, the shirt and jacket concealed any marks of passion. His expression stayed neutral but Rayla saw the recognition flash in his eyes as they swept over her.

She fought back a shudder as the heat rose in her again but before her mind ran wild with memories, she realised how wrong it all was. She was in trouble.

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 3

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, death mention, mention of politics

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Happy New Year, everyone! We made it! To celebrate, here’s the next chapter of Honeydew. I’d like to mention that this story takes place a few years BEFORE the events of We Can Be Heroes, so that’s why some things are a bit different from canon. If we make it far enough, there might be some allusions to the movie, but for now you can think of this as being set 3-5 years before the movie. Wishing you all a safe and healthy new year!

Erin locked her car and walked down the sidewalk to the entrance of the restaurant. She felt just a little bit overdressed with her pencil skirt and ruffled blouse, but it was a day full of meetings and she didn’t have extra time to change. Hopefully she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

When she walked in, she spotted Marcus sitting by a window, gazing out into the street. The daylight highlighted the curve of his nose beautifully, almost like a painting. His glasses framed his eyes perfectly, drawing attention to the warm brown of his irises and accentuating his strong jawline. The short beard on his cheek looked soft and kissable, though shorter than her Marcus kept his.

Her heart fluttered as she stepped into the dining area. Each step towards Marcus Moreno felt like one step further away from the past, from her Marcus.

But wouldn't her Marcus want her to be happy?

Stop getting your hopes up, she scolded herself. This isn’t a date.

Part of her wished it was. It was the same part of her that gravitated towards him after they met at Sachi’s party and filled her with warmth when he texted her for the first time.

She knew it was silly to develop feelings for him; he was probably too busy for relationships. After all, he had to take care of his daughter, Missy.

What if he already had a wife, too?

Her heart sank as she glanced down at his hands, which were clasped together on the table. Shining on his left hand was a ring.

Definitely not a date, then.

“Hi,” he greeted, his face lighting up when she approached. He rose to his feet to give her a hug. When they pulled apart, he took in her outfit. “Wow, you look...great.”

She blushed, hands still resting on his arms. “Thanks, you too. I must say, a suit looks good on you.”

“Oh this? It’s nothing,” he said, beaming. Before she could stop him, he pulled out her chair so she could sit. “I, uh, ordered you a coffee; you sounded tired on the phone when you called, so I figured you would want a little pick-me-up.”

In front of her was a mug filled with steaming coffee. It was a cappuccino–one of her go-to orders. When she wasn’t surviving off of plain coffee, she loved the warmth and luxury of the more elaborate form of caffeine. Sitting down, she asked, “Thank you. How do you know my coffee order?”

Marcus laughed softly, his cheeks flushed. “Lucky guess?”

“Very lucky, indeed,” she hummed, taking a sip. As she did, memories of a certain agent and cup of coffee raced back to her. It was such a lovely coincidence that both Marcuses managed to give her coffee in the sweetest way possible. Admiring his dress shirt and tie, she asked, “Are you coming from work, or do you always dress like this for lunch dates?”

She let out a breath of relief when he explained it was for work. The man sitting across from her was already beautiful–she wasn’t sure how she’d cope if he also wore suits every day.

Marcus explained that he worked for a group called the Heroics, which was the organization responsible for coordinating superpowered individuals to protect the world. There was a dress code for those working in the offices, though sometimes the heroes staying behind could be ready in their super attire.

The Heroics were a fairly new group, one that the government had seemed interested in working with. However, most of the information was classified and only relayed to those working at the Pentagon. With the rising concerns of police brutality and the acceleration of technology, the world was searching for a newer, better, way to keep civilians safe.

When she asked him what position he had, he groaned playfully. Even after all this time, his honeydew never rested. He tried to ignore what that meant for her during the past few years. “Isn’t this supposed to be our break from work, honey?”

“What, can’t a girl be curious?” she teased, tilting her head.

Marcus chuckled, heat rushing up to his face when he realized his eyes had fallen to her red lips. Without thinking, he reached across the table to take her hand into his. “How about this: I’ll tell you later if you can make it through lunch without talking about work.”

She huffed playfully. “Alright, you win.” Rubbing her thumb along his fingers, she asked, “What do you want to talk about, Mr. Moreno?”

Everything. He wanted to talk about everything. Yet at the same time, he wanted to talk about nothing; he just wanted to spend time with his best friend.

But he was Marcus Moreno, not Marcus Pike. Even if she was his best friend, he wasn’t hers.

“I guess I just want to get to know you better,” he said, shrugging. The corners of his mouth curved up in a soft smile. “What does Erin He, the FBI’s Operational Technologies Supervisor, do in her free time?”

“Not that I have much free time these days,” she began, “but, I like making things. Food and art, mostly. There’s a new art gallery opening nearby. I’ve been meaning to go but work has taken up a lot of time. That, and most of my friends aren’t really into that kind of stuff.”

Back in Texas, Marcus had introduced her to the prospect of viewing and enjoying art, not just creating it. At first she’d been hesitant–she never really enjoyed walking through museums or galleries–but listening to Marcus’s interpretations of the artwork, and then offering her own, made her reconsider it. Maybe it was the art; maybe it was the company and quality time that used to come with it. It became a part of her life, a treat to herself amidst the bright screens and headaches. It was her escape from the world, even if it was short-lived.

She just wished Marcus could’ve been there in her years after moving to DC.

Marcus smiled. “Well, I’d love to go with you someday. Maybe not during the week, but one day when Missy’s over at a friend’s house.”

At the mention of his daughter, Erin remembered his wedding ring. Her stomach churned at the thought of keeping him away from his family. Retracting her hand, she said, “Oh, right. Of course…. But wouldn’t you want to spend time with your wife?”

His brows furrowed with confusion, then he followed her eyes to his ring. He smiled sadly. “Oh, right. I forgot to tell you…my wife passed away a few years ago.” He tapped on the metal band. “I used to see this as a symbol of my marriage, but now I like to consider it a reminder of my daughter. A reminder that I have someone waiting for me to come home and provide for.”

There were days when he missed his wife more than others, like whenever Missy would come home from school with an art project made for Mother’s Day. Or when she’d want to try new hairstyles or try on clothes at the mall. It had been years, but there were just some things he couldn’t be no matter how much he tried.

“I’m sorry,” Erin said. Offering him a small smile, she added, “For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re a great dad.”

She always knew what to say, always a step ahead. He’d missed that about her. “I don’t have the best track record with relationships,” he replied, letting out a huff of laughter. “Let’s just say that.”

“You’re not alone in that camp,” Erin replied. She played with the corner of her napkin. “Though I must say I’ve never made it far enough to have a kid of my own, so you’ve got that going for you.”

“Why not?” He knew dating while working for the FBI was always a tricky situation, but he never thought that she, of all people, would have trouble finding someone. She was sweet, hardworking, and smarter than everyone he knew. She was....everything he ever looked for in a partner. Having lunch with her, getting to relearn what it felt like to be her friend, was everything.

But he also knew her. He understood her dedication to her work, and why she worked long hours at the office. He did the same, too. Well, until he met his wife and had Missy.

Did Erin ever get to experience that feeling? The feeling of being home and content and loved? Did he take that feeling with him when he erased his identity from the world?

She was about to answer when a waitress came up to the table to take their orders. Once the waitress left, she turned back to Marcus. “Let’s just say there was an old friend, one that I can’t ever replace.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, so quiet that she almost missed it.

Why did it sound like an apology?

Taking a deep breath, she changed the subject. “Well, it was a long time ago, anyways. I’m just happy that I met you. Tell me, Marcus: what do you like to do in your free time?”

They talked about everything they could think of, basking in comfortable silences once the food arrived. It was all easy; almost too easy. But Erin couldn’t help but let it wash over her. It had been a long, long time since she felt at peace with everything. There was just something about the way Marcus smiled that was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. His humble–almost shy–demeanor only served to draw her in. She quickly realized that, at the end of the day, he was just a man trying to do right by his daughter.

When the bill arrived, he didn’t hesitate to slip in his card and give it back to the waitress. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s my treat.” Winking at Erin, he said, “Maybe next time.”

---

After lunch with Marcus, the day passed in a blur. The meetings were long, but not as unbearable as she expected. Even the piles of feedback on her desk didn’t feel as daunting as they usually did. When she left the office, the weight of the folders in her arms weren’t as heavy.

Erin had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when her phone rang, buzzing against the counter. She didn’t even need to glance at the screen to know it was him; she had a special ringtone set up.

Putting the call on speaker, she answered, “Hi Marcus!”

“Hey Erin!”

Warmth filled her chest as he thanked her for having lunch with him. His voice was as soothing as ever, even through the phone. She could have listened to him talk all night.

“I had a great time, too,” she replied, beaming. Sitting on her kitchen counter, she must’ve looked ridiculous with her hair in damp tendrils. Thankfully, Marcus hadn’t decided to do a video call. “I mean it. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a while.”

A soft chuckle. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t bore you too much.”

She scoffed. “You could never.” Maybe to some he would be boring, but to her? He was everything. His late wife was a lucky woman, and Missy was a lucky girl. Marcus was everything she ever wanted; he was kind, thoughtful, secure. And although they’d parted ways with nothing more than a promised call, she never felt so happy.

“Actually, I was wondering–”

He stopped as a little voice piped up near him. It must’ve been Missy, his little girl. Erin could just barely hear her ask, “Who is that?”

Biting her lip, she listened on as Marcus chuckled softly and bashfully answered, “She’s, uh, a friend of mine.”

“Is she a girlfriend?”

“N-no,” he stammered, laughing nervously. “She’s just a friend.”

“Is she pretty?”

His answer made her cover her face and fight to contain a squeal. “Yes, she’s very pretty.” A pause. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, sweetie? Why don’t you get in first, I’ll be right there.”

Erin waited patiently as silence settled in the kitchen once again. Her cheeks were hurting from smiling, and she was sure she’d feel it the next morning. He thought she was pretty!

Marcus returned with a sigh. “Sorry about that, Missy can get a little curious sometimes.”

“It’s alright,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too giddy. “She’s cute. What were you going to ask me?”

Silence. Then, he said, “Oh, right. I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to get dinner sometime later this week?”

Her heart raced as she realized what he wanted. It had been so long; what would she wear? Did he already have a restaurant in mind? Did he really want to take her out to dinner?

Was it a date?

Already deep into the whirlwind of questions, she realized she hadn’t responded yet. Without thinking, she said, “Yes. It’s a date!”

You couldn’t have been more subtle?

She braced herself for the rejection, but it never came.

“It’s a date,” Marcus repeated softly, almost as if he were saying it to himself. A soft laugh. “I should probably, uh, go check on Missy. We can figure out the details of our date later, alright?” His voice somehow turned even softer, like velvet. “Goodnight, honeydew.”

Erin yawned, the day’s exhaustion finally setting in. Maybe those files could wait until the morning.

“Goodnight, Marcus.”

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[morceid]

Beating The Dead Swan

Chapter 4: hold on for your life

read on ao3

<- chapter three

Summary: The team makes progress on the case and Spencer makes progress with Derek.

Word Count: 1.8k

Category: angst, some fluff

Content Warnings: drug mention, general criminal minds stuff

A/N: so sorry this took so long to finish writing! i just had some other things i needed to do for school stuff before i did this but enjoy!!

The next day Derek walked into the BAU, ready to give Hotch a rundown of how they were handling the case, but something caught his eye.

Through the windows of the office Spencer now occupied, there was an art easel propped up next to the couch. A sheet covered in various paints and colors laid on the floor as Spencer brushed a sky of purple and blue on the canvas.

“Whatcha doin’ there, kid?”

“Oh, oh hi Agent Morgan, I hope this is okay, I just wanted to paint.” Spencer stammered.

“It’s fine, it looks good too. How long have you been painting?”

“I’m fairly certain I was 8, could’ve been 9 though, my dad left around then and it’s all kind of blurry.”

A thick silence surrounded the two, the only sound being the brush against the cloth canvas.

“Um, I’m sorry. Anyways, what are you going to be doing today?” Spencer swiped his finger through the purple color he’d mixed and dabbed it across the wet paint.

“Well, Garcia is looking through the bank records of all the victims. If there’s anything suspicious then she’ll look into it and we might even take the case as a team, but for now it’s just me and her. I’m going to talk to my boss right now, I’ll talk to you later though.” Derek turned towards the doorway but Spencer stopped him.

“Morgan, uh, do you think, do you think you’ll catch whoever did this to Camille?”

“I sure hope we do. You deserve some closure. We all do.”

“Yeah, yeah just sometimes, it feels, I don’t know, captivating in all the wrong ways.”

“I know. But it gets better, I promise you. See you in a bit.” Derek left the office and headed towards the bullpen.

Spencer exhaled and studied the paint on his hand. The cold feeling, the intense smell, and the sound as he slapped it across the canvas.

“Hey, any updates?” Hotch asked Derek as he opened the door to his office.

“Nah, not really. All the people we’ve interviewed are completely innocent. Penelope’s checking men with sexual offenses that our victims could’ve interacted with but I’m not sure we’re gonna find anything.”

“Alright, you should probably check on that now, I’ll see you later if there are any updates.”

“See ya, boss.” Derek said as he walked back down the steps and across the hall to Penelope’s office.

“Hello my soulmate and love of my life Derek Morgan, how can I help you today?” Penelope excitedly exclaimed as Derek walked into her office.

“Hey baby girl, get anything from your search?”

“Unfortunately, no. None of the victims had close family that had both a connection to the company or a sexual offense, in fact there are no sex offenders in the area that have any connection to the company at all. They really do triple check everyone’s background.”

“There has got to be some connection somewhere. Did the M.E. do another tox screen?” Derek asked.

“Yep, and it seems that all of the victims had massive doses of ketamine in their systems.”

“Camille had ketamine in her blood?” Spencer walked into the office and started the two.

“Oh! Spencer, you can’t be in here, not right now.” Derek rushed to take him out of the room.

“Wh- why can’t I? Camille was my friend, I deserve to know about her. Did she have drugs in her body?”

“Spencer, you can’t be interrupting an investigation. I’m sorry, but you need to go back to your office.”

Spencer stops trying to push against Derek and exhales, trying to catch his breath. They walked back towards the office they now called home while squeezing his hands in intervals of three, a trick to calm himself down Camille had taught him. He fell onto the couch and fell asleep quickly, deciding not to fight the tired feeling his eyes gave him.

They woke up what felt like around thirty minutes later, but the digital clock he set on the table next to the brown leather couch read 11:43. He got up and grabbed flannel pants and a sweater from his bag of clothes and headed to the bathroom to change into the pajamas. They grabbed his chess set from his office and went into the breakroom. Their stomach growled and they recalled that they went to Penelope’s office earlier to ask if he could have the rest of the soup. He looked around the bullpen, wondering if they’d mind if he ate something from the fridge.

Agent Rossi walked out of his office and took notice of Spencer.

“Hey, what are you doing up? The only person here this late is generally that guy.” Rossi pointed towards Agent Hotchner’s office. The microwave on the counter now displayed 12:06.

“I-I took an unexpectedly long nap and uh, I didn’t eat lunch or dinner to- well technically yesterday now, uh, c-could I have something from the fridge?” Spencer stammered.

“Of course, kid. In fact, there’s some of my signature pasta in there. I make it weekly for the rest of the team, but today Derek ordered something for lunch so he didn’t eat his. You can have it if you want.”

“Thank you, Agent Rossi.” Spencer took the tupperware container out of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave.

“You can just call me Rossi, you don’t have to do the whole Agent thing,” Rossi said as he sat on the other side of Spencer’s chess game. “I didn’t know you played.”

The microwave beeped and Spencer took the bowl out and stirred it around with a fork. They brought it to the table, eating it as they moved a chess piece.

“Yeah, Camille gave me this set for my birthday, which actually isn't for another couple weeks but she didn’t want to wait.”

“You know, I had this old friend, Jason Gideon, he played chess. I think you’d like him. He’s the one who taught me.” Rossi moved his own chess piece.

“He sounds interesting. I fell asleep before Morgan could tell me anything, but have you made any good progress on the case?”

“A little. We found out how all of the girls died but we just can’t seem to figure out why the unsub did this.”

“Unsub?” Spencer said, moving another chess piece.

“Unknown Subject, it’s what we call the murderer. I’ve looked over your files, you seem like a really smart person.”

“Yeah, I uh, I can read pretty fast. I have an eidetic memory, too. I was a pretty good punching bag as a kid.”

“The world will see something amazing and try to take it for their own.” Rossi absentmindedly moved a piece.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

“So, I’m assuming you don’t have much of a record with the ladies?”

“None at all. I’ve been intrigued by a couple guys, but they’ve all turned me down or turned out to be assholes,” Spencer laughed and moved another one of his pieces before taking another bite of spaghetti. “What about you? You’ve got to have courted some girl with this amazing pasta.”

“Yeah, I have, I actually got three ex wives.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“Depends on your definition of impressive,” It was Rossi’s turn to laugh and move a piece. “You’ve got your eyes on him, don’t you?”

Spencer looked puzzled for a second before Rossi nudged the tupperware lid that had Derek’s name written across the top.

“Maybe, just a little bit. I’d be lying if I didn’t think he was attractive,” Spencer moved a piece. “Check.”

“I think he might like you too.” Rossi moved a piece.

“I don’t. He’s nice, but I don’t think he’d like me back.” Spencer moved a piece.

“I know you haven’t known me for long, Spencer, but I’m right about this,” Rossi moved another piece. “Checkmate. You’re smart, but you’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Rossi got up from the table and started walking out to his car. Spencer packed up his chess set and made a pot of coffee before heading to their office. For the rest of the night they drank his coffee and worked on the painting still sitting on the easel. 

At around six in the morning Spencer was getting ready to brew another pot of coffee and JJ walked into the breakroom. 

“Oh! Hi, uh, are you gonna be here long?” JJ asked.

“Uh, no, why?”

“Uh, Agent Hotchner called us in because he found something with the case. You’re not gonna be allowed in here when he’s telling us, I’m sorry.”

“Oh it’s fine, I’ve been up all night so I should probably just go take a nap anyways.”

They shared an awkward laugh before Spencer went back into the office and promptly fell back asleep on the couch.

Almost six hours later Spencer woke up to Derek knocking on his door. They got up and straightened out their sweater.

“Hey, so Hotch wants you there to hear the profile, just thought you should know.” Derek said, taking in the pajamas Spencer was wearing.

“Oh, okay, thanks.” 

Derek went back out to the bullpen and Spencer closed the blinds of the office windows before changing his flannel pants to jeans. When they finished dressing he went out to the bullpen and sat on the edge of an unused desk. Police officers were scattered around the area.

“You look like you need this.” Derek said as he sat next to Spencer and handed him a cup of coffee.

“Aren’t you supposed to be presenting the case too?”

“No, Hotch wanted to do it himself.”

The two set their cups of coffee down at the same time and their hands brushed against one another.

“You’re comforting.” Spencer thought out loud.

Derek didn’t respond. He just took it in and they both faced away from each other, hiding the smiles from the other’s eyes and savouring the moment.

Hotch’s profile wasn’t all that detailed, but it was early in the case anyways. The unsub would have either no mother figure or a distant one, and the father would be abusive in some way or another. His estimated age range was 25-30 and he would likely have learned his behavior from someone close, possibly the same father that abused him. He would rarely go in public and when he did he wouldn’t talk to anyone unless he had to. He likely wasn’t someone everyone knew and would isolate himself in most situations.

Most of the details floated out of Derek’s head as Hotch spoke as he had already heard the profile once and his mind was already clouded with Spencer’s words. When the presentation was finished Derek walked with Rossi to Penelope’s office to see if she had any new findings.

“He’s kind of a pretty boy, isn't he?” Derek said.

“Who?

“Spencer.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Rossi gave a knowing smile as they walked into Penelope’s office.

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