#i hope everyone who needs to see this sees this

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #Post Prison!Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

[bobacupcake]

indie game releases may 9 2024

today is just an absolutely amazing day for indie game launches. like there is something here for just about everyone. i want to catalogue all the ones ive seen

animal well

described by some as a "metroidvania thats similar to outer wilds in that you want to go into it knowing as little as possible" . which i assume if youre like me is all you need to know to be sold on this, so thats all i have to say

steam | switch | ps5

little kitty big city

you play as a little kitty in a big city. incredibly cute. great for people who love cats and play games to just take it easy and have a nice time. you get to put the kitty in so many silly hats

steam | switch | xbox (also on gamepass)

rabbit & steel

"what if you could do mmo raid progression but without having to invest hours into an mmo" here you go this is the game for you. get together with friends and learn mechanics and fights and get 5 different debuffs and try to parse what they mean before they make you explode in 5 seconds. i hope this sounds fun to you because to me this is what i live for

steam

crow county

an incredibly stylish ps1-style survival horror game. solve mysteries!! shoot monsters!! pick up items!! you probably know if this is the game for you already!! from what ive seen its a great love letter to the genre

steam | ps5 | xbox

1000xresist

i have heard /immense/ praise over this game from a narrative angle. scifi thriller. also the trailer starts with someone getting stabbed. cool. if you play games for their stories and a hyper-cinematic scifi adventure is up your alley check this one out

steam

cryptmaster

a dungeon crawler where you do everything by typing words . i dont know how to properly describe this but it looks incredibly cool the trailer through the link does a much better job of showcasing it than i do. AND , if this game and 100xresist both look up your alley, you can actually get a bundle with both of them for 40% off

steam

anyways thanks for getting through my big wall of gifs i really wanted to showcase these games because like these are some Real amazing games all launching on the same day. and also the same week as hades2 . and im sure theres even more that i didnt even see!!! check the replies because im sure people are gonna add even more

#long post #indie games #gaming

[ellecdc]

okay but….

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

aawwwweeeeee

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?” Lily asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were all going to know it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James scoffed in faux offence as Lily and Remus chuckled. 

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

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

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

“It was just…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had to admit that you were, too.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #poly!marauders #poly!marauders + lily #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders + lily x reader #poly!marauders + lily x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #lily evans x you #lily evans x reader #lily evans x fem!reader #ellecdc fics

[barcaatthemoon]

end of an era || jenni hermoso x reader ||

things don't always get better, but jenni tries to help you.

major angst warning, like implied/mentioned suicide attempt angst. proceed with caution.

everything and everyone went silent the moment you fell. it was daunting to watch back as you replayed the stream of your last game over and over again. jenni sighed as she glanced over at you. the two of you had been waiting in the doctor's office for hours now to see how your surgery had gone. both of you knew that it was going to be a long and hard road back, one that you honestly weren't even sure you'd have the chance to attempt.

"will you turn it off please?" jenni asked you. she was beyond trying to be nice about it. you got upset every single time that you watched it, and jenni hated hearing you get hit and go down again and again. she hadn't been there for that game, and it was one of her greatest regrets.

your teammates had told jenni how you had been immediately following the game. jenni almost couldn't believe it, not until she saw for herself that every ounce of happiness had been sucked out of you. you had become obsessive, attempting to figure out where you could have done something to reduce the damage. rather than listen to the countless people who had assured you time and time again that it was a freak accident, you still searched for an answer.

"it's not like i have anything else to do," you grumbled. jenni was really starting to get on your nerves. she was always a little annoying, but it had gone from being endearing to infuriating. "they're just going to tell me that i'm finished. my career is over, even if i can make a comeback. it will be too fucking late, jenni."

"no. no, stop talking like that. you're gonna be fine," jenni told you. oh how you wished that the doctors hadn't made her out to be a liar. jenni believed her words right up until the surgeon came in with a team of people that neither of you had ever seen before.

you felt numb as they gave the time frame of your possible return. it would be well over a year since you required multiple surgeries to fix the tears and breaks. you didn't understand how you had fucked up your body so badly, and it was obvious that jenni didn't either. however, you weren't left wondering for very long. the doctor mentioned old injuries that hadn't healed properly, claiming that your leg was a ticking time bomb that had been resting for nearly a decade.

"that was a waste of fucking time," you grumbled as you rushed towards the car. you were on crutches, so you weren't really moving that fast. jenni had slowed her pace down signficantly to keep up with you. she was carrying your bags, something that you only let her do today because she normally did it for you anyway.

"no, we have a timeline now. that's a good first step towards getting you back to where you need to be." jenni sounded so optimistic still, but you knew that it didn't matter. you'd miss the olympics, and you'd definitely have to retire by the next world cup. your time was running out, and it had essentially been cut in half by your injury.

"jenni, i'll be lucky if i ever get to step foot on a pitch again. let's just get home. i need a fucking drink." you got into the car, ignoring the look that jenni gave you. she was worried about you, despite you technically not doing anything worrisome yet.

you were depressed, and rightfully so. jenni had hoped that the doctors would have some good news for you, but they hadn't. your mood reflected that in the coming weeks as you moped around until you were cleared to start your physical therapy and rehab. your schedule for that was pretty light, especially since you had at least two more surgeries before you were in the clear.

jenni was great, and despite it being her off season, she didn't go back to spain. instead, she had moved temporarily to america to take care of you. you could tell that the move was hard on her, but she couldn't think of letting you stay by yourself. she was afraid that you'd do something stupid or dangerous if she left you alone.

you hated it, and because of that, you started to hate her as well. you hated that jenni kept looking at you like you were made of glass. you hated that she touched you so gently whenever all you wanted was for her to hold you down against the mattress and make you forget the past four months of your life. you hated jenni, and even more so, you hated that she never showed any resentment towards you.

there was always only ever going to be so much that jenni could handle. ten months out of your injury with only one more surgery to go, it all came crashing down around the two of you. the cracks in jenni's patience with you were starting to show, so she had taken a little vacation to spain without you. it wasn't for more than a few days, but it was long enough for your anger to betray you and turn into complete despair.

you had a family history of being fucked up. addiction, depression, anxiety, and a long list of other issues had plagued nearly every other member of your family for as long as you could remember. your parents had both tried to prepare you for the worst of it, and for a time, you thought that you had seen it. you had forgone taking your pain medicine because you had been terrified fo getting hooked on it. there never should have been so many pills in the house, but jenni knew she couldn't have just taken your extra ones with her to spain.

you wanted to call jenni, but she'd talk you down. you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had treated her so badly for nearly a year, to the point where she left the continent to get away from you. however, you believed that you owed her at least a text. something to thank her for taking care of you and apologize for being such a piece of shit for so long.

the time zone different meant that jenni should have been fast asleep. you didn't count on jenni being wide awake at 2 am. how could you have known that she hadn't been sleeping well since you got hurt. the vacation to spain should have been relaxing, but jenni couldn't quiet the voice in the back of her head warning her that you still weren't doing any better mentally. that was why she hadn't even finished reading your text before she was calling some of your american teammates to check up on you, hopeful that it wasn't too late.

…

"i'm here! i'm here!" jenni was nearly tripping over herself as she ran into your hospital room. she stopped when she saw you. you had expected her to start yelling at you or something, but instead she just broke down in front of you.

"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni tried to tell you not to be sorry, but she couldn't get it out. all she could do is kneel by your bed and cry as your hand weakly ran through your hair. "it should have worked."

"i-is that how you really feel?" jenni asked you. you realized that wasn't at all what she wanted to hear, and suddenly you were filled with guilt. all of that hate and anger that you had felt before came back, but this time it was fully directed towards yourself.

"yes," you whispered. jenni wiped her eyes and stood up as she stared down at you. "i've been awful to you. how can you still love me?"

"are you fucking stupid?" jenni regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. for the first time in months, jenni finally saw you cry. "shit. shit, shit, shit, c'mere. i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that. i love you, i want to see you get better."

"jenni, i'm not sure that there is a better. what if i come back and this happens all over again? i think that i need to retire and take some time by myself," you told her.

"a-are you breaking up with me?" jenni asked you. there was a flash of anger in her eyes, one that completely overshadowed the hurt. "i took care of you for almost a year. i waited for you to get better, to be yourself again because i love you so much. you can't just make a decision like this by yourself, not when you aren't in the right headspace."

"jenni, they're keeping me here on a hold for a while until i can prove that i'm okay. i'm selling my place here. i don't want us to be over, but i think that if you can find someone who actually deserves you while i'm gone, then you should go for it. and if you don't by the time that i'm better, then i'd really like you to consider letting me come back to you," you told her. jenni didn't like the sound of that, but it wasn't a clear breakup. it was a break, if anything, and jenni knew for a fact that she wouldn't find someone else unless you actually forced her to. "i've already been let out of my contracts, they're just waiting to make the announcements."

"i wish that you'd reconsider this, but i am glad that you can make rational decisions," jenni said. you nodded as you gave her hand a little squeeze. there was a chair by your bed, but jenni crawled right in next to you. she had a couple days to stay with you before you were moved to the facility that you'd call home for as long as it took you to get better. jenni didn't know when you'd be back, but she kept a calendar to keep count of the days you were gone.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader #heavy angst

[silent-stories]

Eddie lives with the fear but also with the certainty that sooner or later you will decide to leave him.

He knows that one day you'll start to see him the way everyone else sees him, that you'll realize that you were wrong about him, that in the end, he really was a loser impossible to love.

It's what almost every important person in his life did, and when he realized that, after so many times, maybe he was the problem, he lost hope of finding someone who wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

Precisely for this reason every moment, every small action, every detail is so important to him and scares him at the same time.

Because he knows that one day you won't be there next to him in the morning to gently move the curls from his face and cook pancakes making a mess in the trailer kitchen.

He knows that you will stop waiting for him in the school hallway between lessons for a kiss and you will no longer be in his room every afternoon with a cigarette between your lips sitting on the floor in front of him, holding the guitar in his hands.

He knows you won't be at the Hideout to see his band play anymore and he won't be able to make those stupid jokes about groupies and what you guys will do in the backstage anymore. He knows you won't be there to hold his hand when he wants to bring his mother flowers and the cemetery will seem even more depressing without you by his side.

He knows he'll miss falling asleep reading a book while you lie with your head on his chest and waking up with his arms around your body, holding you close. He knows you will no longer play with his fingers during that boring math class, slipping rings off his fingers and trying them on yours every time.

He knows that one day the trailer will seem so empty without your laughter to fill the silence.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask sitting cross-legged on his bed, turning a small bottle of freshly applied black nail polish on Eddie's nails in your hands.

This is the moment you admit that you don't want to see him anymore, that you're breaking up with him. Eddie knows it.

He would like to say no. He wants to say he doesn't want to hear what you're about to say, but he knows he can't.

"All that you want."

"I think I'm in love with you."

Eddie's heart for a beat. Maybe more than one. He tries to hide the smile on his lips, he can't find a way to do it and thinks the only way is to kiss you.

Maybe he was wrong. He had been wrong all along and you were not leaving him anytime soon.

When he kisses you you don't care that his nails are still freshly polished and will leave stains on your skin and you don't even care when his teeth collide with yours because he can't stop smiling.

The kiss was your answer, he didn't need to say he was in love with you too.

#random drabble! #eddie munson drabble #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

[k6tzie]

task force 141 'sharing' nsfw headcanons

be advised, the following content explores consensual sex involving multiple people during intimate encounters. reader discretion is advised

soap: he's a man of adventure and will try everything once, even if he thinks he might not like it. if he were to have a threesome, he'd share ghost or another close friend he can trust with you, not the other way around. it's almost like a dream, both guys splayed out on soaps bed, legs spread as they take turns fucking your mouth.

gaz: in all honesty, i don't see kyle being the type to have sex with another person or people involved (sorry to disappoint). maybe some light-hearted kissing or messing around but he wouldn't be interested in 'sharing' you with someone. if you really wanted it, he might do so just to please you but it'd be cut short and lots of cuddling after...y'know, to assure you still love him.

price: thankfully, john isn't the overly jealous type. he fully trusts you and your intentions especially when it comes to sex. so when you proposed the idea of having another person, he was okay with it as long as there were some ground rules. he cared about everyone's needs being fulfilled. but of course, when the other person leaves, he'll fuck one last orgasm out of you until your legs give out. and i can't forget, aftercare king!

ghost: he wouldn't be too eager to have another person involved but would only make an exception if he knew and trusted them. he more so enjoys the thought of other people drooling over you whilst he's the only one who can fuck you dumb. so if you wanted someone involved, it'd most likely be someone else from the tf141, probably johnny, "keep that pretty mouth busy, johnny. someone's making too much noise." whilst he fucks you with purposely slow, deep strokes.

this is my first post so i hope you enjoyed it, feel free to let me know if you'd like this with any other characters. i'd be happy to write it. thanks!

#cod #call of duty #cod headcanons #cod smut #cod fanfic #headcannons #simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #task force 141 #john price #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle gaz garrick #soap smut #ghost smut #smut #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #go easy on me this is my first post lol #been letting these rot in my brain at work

[ithebookhoarder]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests for criminal minds but if you are could you do the BAU react to their so being a paramedic/firefighter? :))

If you decide to write this thank you in advance

(BAU Headcanons) If their S.O. was a paramedic/firefighter 🚨

A/N: You're very welcome! Here you are my angel. I'm always taking requests but I can't promise how long I'll take to reply and finish them 😅 Hope this is worth the wait. Also - major shout out to any first responders out there. You are literal superheroes! 💕

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of mental health, alcohol references, sexual references, references to death. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

Aaron would be honestly so in awe of you and what you do for a living. He’d also appreciate having a partner who understands what it’s like to have a job with unpredictable hours, such high stakes, and requires risking yourself to save people. 

As such, he would know how important it is to prioritise time together for the two of you. It’s why he is so active with forming a family calendar as he knows that, if it isn’t written in ink, you may never find an opportunity to do something. 

He is all about creating concrete plans for you both, so you have something to look forward to and actually have a chance of being able to arrange it, even if it’s months in advance. It doesn’t matter if it’s Jack’s soccer game, going for a jog in the park together, or a week-long vacation. 

However, he’s learned to be far more flexible if plans don’t work out the way you’d hoped. He’s had virtual Thanksgivings with you over the phone, a boxing-day Christmas, and even turned running errands on a day off into a date-day. 

We know Aaron would honestly hate knowing how much danger you’re in sometimes at work but he also knows he has no leg to stand on given his job and what he does every day. So, you both agree to let the other one know at least once a day that you’re ok, even if only by text. 

You’d have to agree to a ‘no work at home’ policy for you both to even stand a chance of relaxing at home and focusing on Jack (who thinks he has the coolest parents ever! Like, two superheroes for parents? He’s the luckiest kid in the world). 

Aaron would be such a proud partner too, even if he doesn’t always say it out loud. He shows it in his face every time he and Jack come to visit you at work, or when he displays a picture of you receiving an award on his desk for everyone to see. 

He even helps Jack when he asks to go as you for Halloween one year - the sight of which made you cry so hard you couldn’t even speak for a good hour after. Instead, you snap a picture and carry it with you everywhere when you leave the house, and even stick a copy in your locker. 

He’d have notifications set too, tracking incidents in your area so he knows when you may be working or out on a job. He’s also not above pulling the ‘FBI’ card if he even hears of someone making your life hard at work. 

He’d also be the biggest hypocrite, always worried you’re not getting enough sleep or eating enough, despite him running on no sleep and three expressos. 

He’d also be the first to rip into you if he found out you’d taken some unnecessary risk whilst out on a call. 

“I have enough worrying about my own idiots over here without worrying about you doing something stupid too. Please, you need to be more careful, ok? I can’t and won’t lose you. Not like that.”

David Rossi 

Rossi has lost many people over the years so he would definitely be terrified of losing you, and getting hurt. However, he knows what it’s like to have a passion for helping people and he’d never stop you from doing what you love and making a difference.

Besides with his crazy schedule he doesn’t mind having a partner who is mostly out working, or also operates on a crazy schedule. It’s almost complimentary, and allows you both not to miss each other too badly when you’re busy. 

Rossi strikes me as a supportive partner in his own ways. For instance, he would make massive donations to fundraisers for your department and for causes supported by your work. He wouldn’t even tell you most of the time, leaving you to work out where the mystery million dollars came from overnight after you just so happened to mention it to him over dinner. 

Speaking of dinner, he’d be keen to invite your colleagues over to his place for social functions, offering to hosts BBQs and family dinners. He’d also invite his BAU family too, knowing how nice it is for your worlds to mix and for people to relax amongst people who get what it’s like to deal with difficult issues. 

He also makes homemade dinners at least once a week, cooking enough so that you both have leftovers to take to work for the next few days. 

He’s also keen to share any recipes he can with you, so you know how to make them when you’re on shift for hours on end. 

“Just because you’re busy saving lives doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t take care of you too!”

This man would also make sure to call you whenever he gets a chance, especially if he is away on a case. He likes hearing your voice and makes sure to ask all about your day so far, knowing its good for both of you to touch base. 

Derek Morgan

This man would be the biggest supporter and cheerleader. Like, you know your pictures are all over his desk and he’s always bragging about how you saved someone’s life whenever he gets a chance. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my baby. They’re a literal superhero. They’re badass.”

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry about you when you’re away working or if he sees some major incident on the news. He’ll be refreshing his phone over and over until he sees a text from you telling him you’re ok. 

You know he will also be begging Penelope to see what she can find out too, through any means necessary (Hotch doesn’t exactly have to know about it…)

You bet your ass that if he does hear you’re hurt or if something is wrong then he will be bolting his way down to the ER or wherever you are the minute he is able to. Penelope would likely be one step ahead of him if he was unable to be there right away taking care of you until he can.

Morgan is such a good care giver too. He knows how hard it is to take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself so is King of supporting healthy habits. I’m talking meal plans so you eat right, proper sleeping habits when you can make them work, and getting out of your apartment on your days off.

He’s all for vegging on the sofa sometimes but he’s keen to support you where he can and remind you there’s a world outside of work and your home. 

He would be the kind of partner who would suggest doing things together as a couple, whether it’s a daily jog in the park or even training for some kind of race. This gives the two of you a shared goal and also shared time together - including in the shower once you get home. 

“What? It’s twice as fast this way and costs half the water bill, sweetheart.”

Also, you know this man gives the world’s best massages and he would be only too willing to give you one when you get home. He’d even try and wait up for you if he could, although you’ve come home more than once to find him passed out on the sofa. 

Emily Prentiss

With her track record of trusting and being betrayed by people I think Emily would be extremely anxious about having a first responder for a partner, even if she would also be totally amazed by you and thinks you’re so badass. 

Like, you can’t tell me she wouldn’t be beaming ear to ear if you ever came to visit the BAU. She would be showing you off to everyone and anyone, giving them all a face to put to the name she’s been talking about for weeks. 

“Babe, you’re amazing. You’re literally saving lives every day. All I did yesterday was fill out a stack of paperwork as big as my arm.” (She ignores the disapproving look Hotch shoots her for that comment…)

It’s just that she’s scared about losing you and it would take you both a while to work out how to make your relationship work and communicate effectively with one another about your fears. I mean, it’s not like you aren’t as equally worried about her but it takes a while for you both to accept that it’s a part of your relationship and that neither of you are willing to give your jobs or each other up. 

When she’s away on a case, or if you’re working overnight, then she won’t be able to sleep unless she sees she has a text from you telling her you’re ok and still in one piece. Of course, she prefers to be able to call if she can but knows it isn’t always possible for both of you if you’re in the middle of a shift. 

She’s a safe space so wouldn’t take it personally when you get home and have fatigue, adrenaline dumps, or just lack any potential excitement or energy for plans you made in advance. 

She’ll meet you where you are, whether it’s cancelling plans and staying in, or going out anyway because you need a distraction. As long as she’s with you then she’s happy and it isn’t like she doesn’t do the same thing after a really bad case. 

Also, we know that you’re the only one she trusts to look after Sergio when she isn’t there, knowing you will be better having someone to cuddle, feed, and look after when you’re not on shift. You become Penelope’s version of Sergio too, as Emily instructs their tech analyst to keep an eye on you both when she can’t. 

She’d be keen to spoil you from time to time and indulges on takeout, trips to the movies, and wants to take you to as many amazing places on holiday as she possibly can. She knows it’s good to travel and to have a complete break from your daily routine. Plus, she knows so many people and so many languages that you’re spoilt on choices of where to stay next. 

JJ

I honestly feel like JJ would struggle having a first responder for a partner. She’d be such a Momma Bear that its both wonderful and intimidating.  Like, we know she and Will worked it out eventually with him being a cop, but the fear of losing you would be a big issue for the two of you for a while. As would be navigating how you both deal with the other’s feelings after a bad day on the job. It takes some trial and error before you get into the swing of things. 

For example, she would give the best pep talks and would also know just what to say after a bad day. 

“You did everything you could, sweetheart. I am so proud of you and you saved so many lives today. You may not have been able to save that one, but they knew you tried. They knew you were there and that you cared. That’s all we can ask for in the end. You are amazing and I’ve got you.” 

When you’re both home together, or if you’ve told her you’re having a rough shift, then bath times are a must. She normally has one run, with candles lit, by the time you get in the door. She is also keen to crack open a bottle of wine, or whatever you drink you want, to help you both relax as you lie together in the warm, soapy water and just forget everything for a little while. 

She’d also insist on you both leaving voice messages for the other when you were away, so you could wish the other a ‘goodnight’. It’s comforting to her but she also likes being able to share them with Henry too. 

Speaking of phones, this ex-media liaison would have so many alerts set up and contacts to call if she even suspects you may be out on a major incident. It’s honestly kind of mind-blowing how quickly she managed to get on the phone with your superior, after hearing you could be out on a job that had gone awry. She was in a different state at the time but wouldn’t hang up until they told her what had happened, where you were, and if you were alright. 

She’s also keen to support you in a practical sense, so offers to do loads of laundry for you between shifts and also cleans the house as a way of making sure you have a nice home to come back to. You’d be sure to return the favour when you could, but she likes doing it and being able to show her appreciation for you in such a basic but important way.

JJ would be way more relaxed leaving Henry with you if she’s away, knowing your training makes you like the best possible babysitter ever. 

That, and you cannot tell me that Henry would not worship the ground you walk on. After finding out what you do for work, that little angel would make siren noises whenever you’re in the car together - something you’re keen to encourage as “everyone knows the best part of the job is turning the siren on, JJ. Duh.”

Luke Alvez

Luke would be so proud and so scared for you sometimes, being a first responder. 

Luke would understand that you both have super stressful jobs so is keen to suggest a ’leave work at the door’ policy unless one of you really wants to share. He knows sometimes all he wants to do after a challenging case is walk in the door and face-plant on the sofa and he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t let you do the same… that doesn’t mean he won’t reach over and gently pull of your boots for you, and leave a glass of something on the coffee table for when you feel like it.  

He is also a firm believer that Roxie cures everything, so would be only too happy to leave her with you when he’s out of town, so you can have all the cuddles and playtime you want. 

He also walks her by your work if he gets time so you can come out and sneak a cuddle if you’re not too busy or on a job. Roxie is now your work’s unofficial therapy dog and she loves her role - and the added attention very much. (And you best know she has her own little version of your uniform too).

I feel like he’s the kind of guy who would wake up with you if you have an early start, even if he doesn’t, just so he can cook breakfast and make you coffee in your favourite to-go mug. 

“You deserve to start your day in the right way, so go and enjoy your shower, baby, and it’ll be ready for you when you come out.”

He’d also leave you stupid little love notes in your bag too, knowing they make you smile when you find them later on. You also like to keep them and stick them in your locker for luck, and normally have one tucked in your pocket too. 

He’d also recommend different kinds of music for you to listen to on shift, making you playlists you can share and add to when you’re not together. It’s got so bad your co-workers refuse to let you have the aux when you’re driving around anymore as your choices are so varied they get whiplash. 

Luke also loves getting involved wherever he can, whether it’s donating time to help organise a fundraiser, bringing pizza by work, or going with you as a date to any formal events you’re invited to. He scrubs up niceeee and he loves seeing you all dressed up formal too. 

Penelope Garcia 

Penelope would worship the ground you walk on and frets about you like she frets about all her BAU babies when they’re out on a case - but WORSE.

So she does what she does best and compensates with love and kindness. She takes care of the people she loves and you would know that better than anyone. This queen would totally make you care packages and would make sure you had them delivered when you’re on shift. 

“You spend all your time taking care of other people, my real life knight in shining armour. The least I can do is make sure you have some fluffy socks, face masks, and other basic pamper essentials to take care of yourself! Oh, and don’t forget the protein shake I made for you! And stay hydrated! And be safe!”

She’d make sure to send gifts for your co-workers too. It’s why she’s the favourite spouse of all your colleagues and she’s greeted like the queen she is whenever she visits. 

Her cookies have earned her the unofficial title of ‘Star Baker’ and you best know there have been physical fights over them whenever you’ve left them in the crew mess. In fact, your boss has had to give you all warnings about it as a result, calling ‘dibs’ on them if you couldn’t all be trusted to share. 

She would also give you one of her many mascots for the dashboard of your rig, knowing that the little bobblehead or whatever will remind you of her when you’re out on a call. 

Speaking of calls, you know she is tuned in to all scanners / messaging systems so knows exactly where you are at all times, but especially if there is a call out. You best believe she is making sure you’re ok and has her eyes and ears open if you need help of any kind or back-up. 

As a result, you know she has been scolded more than once by Hotch and by the local authorities for interfering and hijacking calls when she thinks you’re being ignored or need assistance. 

Penelope would also be the first person to encourage you to attend some kind of support group, or seek out some kind of therapy, to help deal with all the stressful and traumatic things you deal with on a day to day basis. She would be only too happy to help you find one and would drive you there and back when she’s able. She’d even come along if you wanted her to. 

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer would be an incredibly proud partner and you know it. He would show his support in various different ways and would absolutely take any and all opportunities to remind people he’s dating a superhero (especially Morgan). He doesn’t understand why someone as amazing as you would choose to date someone like him. 

He would like giving you book recommendations so you always have something to read on shift. He’d give you his copies to borrow, so you can enjoy his pencil notes in the margins when he’s not with you. 

Not only that, but he’d also be happy to take recommendations from you too - no matter how different they may be from his usual reading material. That way you can both compare notes when you both get home and leave work behind for a moment.  

Also, you know Spence would be a fountain of knowledge about your job and has probably read up on anything he didn’t already know about your field. There isn’t a piece of jargon or code that he doesn’t know and he loves trying to use it when talking to your colleagues when he visits sometimes. It earns him their respect, which you know he would be nervous about, as your co-workers are like your second family. He’s that way with the BAU and he wants to impress the people who mean the most to you. 

His thirst for knowledge means he is always willing to let you practise different exercises on him and is keen to learn whatever you’re willing to tell him (something that has come in handy on many of his own cases). 

In return, he would like sharing whatever statistics he has memorised about the work you do. It’s also why he is so concerned about you, knowing how much your role takes out of you. His job is tiring and traumatic enough, but he is at least part of a big team and works only one case at a time. 

“I’m just saying sweetheart, it’s estimated that 30% of first responders develop behavioral health conditions including, but not limited to, depression and PTSD, as compared with 20% in the general population. If you ever want to talk to me or someone else, like a professional, then you know that’s ok.”

As much as he isn’t an overly affectionate person, I feel like he’d be the kind of person to buy you both those bracelets that you can tap and it sends a pulse to the other, letting them know you thought about them. It’s like a virtual tap on the shoulder just to let you both know they’ve got you and love you. 

He’d also drive the doctors insane if you ever got hurt on the job, yelling at them to double check their diagnosis if he even thinks you’re not getting the best treatment and care possible. 

He’d also insist on taking care of you during your recovery, not trusting anyone else to do it right - and he also has Dr Who primed for your entertainment. What could be better than that?

Masterlist

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #david rossi x reader #david rossi x you #david rossi #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia x reader #penelope garcia #penelope garcia x you #luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds

[dixons-sunshine]

Sleepy!reader falling asleep all the time on Daryl’s shoulder,Chest,Arm anywhere in car ride or meeting with group and everyone teasing him and her about it

Sleepyhead | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Life in a world ravaged by the undead was hard. Constantly wondering where you'd find your supplies, whether your loved ones were safe and whether you'd die that day was exhausting. That exhaustion caught up with you, but thankfully, Daryl was more than willing to be your temporary pillow, even at the expense of getting teased about it.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sleep deprivation.

Word count: 768.

A/n: This is really short, but I really didn't have it in me today to write anything long, so I wrote this little fic instead. I feel like this isn't exactly like what was requested, but I hope you like this nonetheless!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Aw, the two of you are so adorable.”

“Glenn, get your camera. We need to get a picture of this.”

“Who knew you could be so soft, Daryl?”

The sound of laughter pulled you out of the black abyss of sleep you were nearly lost in. As everyone continued talking to the archer who's chest you found yourself rested against, you could clearly hear the teasing tones in everyone's voices, and it nearly made you smile—however, that would blow your cover and show everyone that you had woken up again. You wanted to see how Daryl handled the situation.

Barely even fifteen minutes prior, you had been sat against the wall of the lower level of the cellblock as everyone participated in a game of truth or dare. However, not too long into the game, you had yawned and rested your head back against the wall. You were extremely tired, the nights of sleeplessness finally knocking on your door in the form of exhaustion. As you had closed your eyes, you could distinctly feel the arms of someone wrapping around your shoulders, and your cheek had found itself rested upon a firm yet soft surface—that surface you now knew to be Daryl's chest—and a blanket had been draped around you.

“If y'all dun' shut the fuck up righ' now, I'll throw this goddamn pot at yer heads,” Daryl grumbled, subconsciously tightening his arms around you and readjusting the blanket that he had draped around the both of you to fight off the chill the night exhibited. “She ain't been gettin' any sleep lately. S'the first time she's slept in days. If y'all wanna make fun'a me, do it tomorrow when ya dun' run the risk'a wakin' her up.”

“Aw, Daryl,” Michonne awed teasingly, sharing a small laugh with Carl, who watched the exchange in amusement. “You're so sweet. Who would've thought that you'd actually be a big teddy bear instead of this brooding, scary guy you pretend to be?”

“She did,” Rick laughed, motioning over to you. “Look at her. She managed to make Daryl hold her in front of all of us. I thought that would be impossible.”

“Piss off, Grimes,” Daryl replied, ducking his head to hide the blush that spread over his face. Somehow, without even having to shrug you off first, Daryl got up and held you bridal style, regarding the amused faces of his friends once more before turning around. “M'takin her to bed. Nigh', assholes.”

Laughter followed him as he climbed the stairs to your shared cell. You nuzzled your face into his chest and tried to hide your smile, vehemently amused by the situation Daryl had just escaped. You knew that the two of you wouldn't hear the end of what had happened downstairs, but you had no problem with a little teasing over something as tender as Daryl holding you.

Soon, Daryl layed you down on the bed and climbed in behind you, adjusting the covers around the both of you. The archer grumbled something to himself before pressing himself against your back, wrapping his arms around you.

Finding it the perfect moment to add some teasing of your own, you rested your hand over his that rested around you. “They're right, you know. You are really sweet.”

A few beats of silence passed until Daryl spoke up. “Ya were awake the whole time?”

“No, not the whole time,” you corrected. “I woke up because everyone was laughing too loud. I'm glad I did, though. I'd hate to miss any opportunity to see you get so flustered.”

“Yer the worst,” Daryl mumbled, nuzzling his face into your shoulder blade.

“Yeah, I am,” you giggled. “You love me, though.”

A long moment of silence passed. You thought that Daryl had fallen asleep already, but soon he tightened his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I do love ya, sleepyhead.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl drabbles #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you

[thewulf]

Unseen Scars || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - hiyaa, i was hoping you were willing to write another Hotch x bau!reader. Maybe one where reader is in an unhappy/ toxic relationship, maybe abvsive even. And Hotch helps reader learn that what her significant other is doing is wrong, and he even helps reader get out of the absive relationship. And somewhere along the way he says something along the lines of “i can love you so much better than them”.

A/N: Not sure if I love this one. Kinda tough to write. Let me know your thoughts below.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Abuse (physical and mental), bruises, scars, talks of hitting, general CM triggers

You've been working alongside Aaron Hotchner for nearly a decade. Each year adding layers to a complex yet unspoken bond. As senior agents in the BAU you've shared long nights on cases. Him as your superior but respecting you as his equal. Both supported each other through victories and losses. You had the kind of mutual respect that's created from high-stress environments. Through it all there's always been an underlying current of attraction between you two. Subtle yet undeniable no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

When Hotch was married to Haley he was completely off-limits. It was a boundary you’d never dram of crossing. One you respected without question even as your friendship deepened. Then tragedy struck with Haley's death and while you were there to support him your own life was tangled in a serious relationship. By the time your relationship crumbled Hotch had started seeing Beth. And like the cruel joke life was, timing kept you apart once again.

Eventually, that relationship too ended for Hotch. But by then you had drifted into the arms of someone new. Someone the whole team disliked from the start. You brought him to a team dinner once and it was enough to know that no one approved even though they wouldn’t outright say it. He was arrogant, dismissive, and rubbed everyone the wrong way. But you were in a vulnerable place feeling lonely and somewhat unlovable after your string of failed relationships. He was there though. He was persistent and in a weak moment that felt like enough.

Despite the obvious red flags, you clung to the relationship out of a misplaced sense of necessity. You’d convinced yourself that any attention was better than the loneliness that echoed too loudly in the corners of your life. Yet, as the months wore on the relationship took a darker turn. It left you isolated not just from your friends and colleagues but from your own sense of self. You were slowly losing yourself to a man who hardly meant a thing to you.

You texted Hotch early in the morning. Your fingers hesitating over the keyboard before you sent a simple message: Running late today, see you by midday. The message feels sterile, too impersonal for the turmoil churning inside you. But you can't afford to say more. Not when every moment feels like a step through a minefield.

It's nearly noon when you finally push through the front doors of the BAU office with your mind rehearsing the excuses you might need. The bruise hidden beneath your scarf isn't just a reminder of last night's horror. It's a stark, physical manifestation of a boundary cruelly crossed. It wasn’t the first time he’d laid hands on you, but it was the first time it left a mark visible enough to demand a story. A story you hadn't yet managed to straighten out in your head. And if anybody was going to catch you in a lie it was Aaron Hotchner.

As you enter the building the buzz of the office feels both alien and overly familiar, a stark contrast to the silence you’d left behind at your apartment. You try to blend into the activity, nodding along to conversations you barely hear, laughing at jokes that don’t reach your eyes. You keep your posture deliberately casual, avoiding any movement that might shift your scarf and expose the truth lying so treacherously close to the surface.

From his office Hotch had been subtly watching your delayed arrival and your interactions with the team. His concern deepens with each forced smile and carefully measured laugh you muster. He's always respected your privacy. But today the instincts honed by years of profiling scream that something is terribly wrong with you. When the office finally starts to empty for the day, leaving behind the quiet hum of machines and the soft rustling of papers, he sees his chance to talk to you.

"Could I speak with you for a moment before you head home?" Hotch’s invitation comes just as you’re preparing to escape into the welcome anonymity of the evening. His voice is gentle. But there’s an undercurrent of urgency that stops you in your tracks. Reluctantly, you nod you head and followed him into the sanctuary of his office. The door closed softly behind you leaving you trapped with the one person who could unravel you with a simple look.

Inside his office the usual barriers of rank and protocol seem to fall away as he leans against his desk. His eyes were not just those of a supervisor, but of a friend—a protector. "I’ve noticed you’ve been different lately," he begins. His tone soft but firm. "You said you were running late today… but I can't help feeling there’s something more to it." His eyes briefly scan the edge of your scarf before meeting yours with a piercing intensity. "If there's anything you need to talk about, I'm here."

In that moment with the weight of his gaze and the sincerity in his voice the carefully constructed excuses crumble. The reality of your situation, so starkly isolated by his understanding, begins to seep through the cracks of your facade and you feel the first real breath of relief mixed with fear as you consider confiding the truth.

Hotch's eyes were filled with a deep, unmistakable concern. They stay locked on yours as he waits for your response. You feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with unspoken questions and worry. For a brief moment you consider continuing the charade. Brush off his concerns with a practiced smile and a reassurance that you're just tired, overstressed from the workload.

"Really, Hotch, I’m fine," you say. Your voice was steady at first but even as the words leave your lips they sound hollow. Unconvincing even to your own ears. His expression doesn’t waver. Those knowing eyes don’t buy the half-hearted lie.

"Are you sure?" he presses. His tone soft yet insistent. "Because if something—or someone—is hurting you, I want to help." He gave you that look. The one that he knew would break you down. The one that he used only when necessary.

You shake your head though. A simple reflex to protect your precarious world. But your facade is cracking, fissures widening under his gentle scrutiny. "It’s nothing, really. Just been a bit clumsy lately," you attempt to deflect again. But your voice wavers, betraying the turmoil inside.

Hotch's brow furrows slightly. His concern only deepening as he notices the strain behind your words. When you turn away, unable to meet his probing gaze any longer, a tear escapes trailing down your cheek. Your shoulders tremble with barely suppressed sobs. It was that damn look that had you falling apart. Who knew he could do that to you?

He doesn’t say anything for a heartbeat, allowing the silence to settle around you, heavy and expectant. With careful, measured steps, he closes the distance between you. You sense him nearby. His presence a comforting shadow in your moment of vulnerability.

“Hey,” Hotch’s voice is a soft whisper now. When he gently places a hand on your shoulder, it’s an offer, not a demand. You don't pull away and that’s all the confirmation he needs. With tender caution he pulls you into a hug. His arms offering safety, a haven from the storm you’ve been weathering alone. The warmth and solidity of him is grounding and as you lean into his embrace, the dam breaks. Tears were streaming freely now.

He doesn’t rush you nor does he bombard you with questions. He simply holds you, steady and strong, as you let the first wave of relief and acknowledged pain wash over you.

As Hotch's arms encircle you in a gentle embrace a rush of emotions overwhelms you each one more turbulent than the last. Instead of relief a sharp panic claws its way up your chest. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness, it all becomes too much. Your breathing becomes shallow, rapid, as if you can't get enough ai. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, threatening to burst.

"Hotch, I—I can't," you stammer. Your voice choked with rising fear. The room feels as if it's closing in. Each wall inching closer, trapping you in this raw, exposed moment.

He senses the shift immediately with his hold loosening just enough to let you breathe, but he doesn’t let go knowing you need a tether to the present. "Hey, look at me," Hotch says, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the storm of your panic. You barely manage to lift your eyes to his as you were caught in the whirlwind of your emotions.

"Take a deep breath with me, okay?" he guides gently. "In... and out," he continues, his own breaths exaggerated to model a slow, calming rhythm. His eyes are soft, patient, holding yours with a steadiness that feels both terrifying and comforting.

You try to follow as your first attempt is shaky and uneven. But Hotch is there. His presence a constant reassurance. "That’s it, just breathe. In... and out," he repeats with his voice grounding you in the moment. Slowly, the frantic pace of your heart begins to slow. The crushing weight in your chest easing as you synchronize your breathing with his.

"You're safe here with me," Hotch whispers to you. Each word carefully chosen to fortify the fragile peace you're beginning to feel. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I’ve got you. I promise." And you knew that it was indeed a promise. He’d never let anything happen to you if he could stop it.

His reassurances wash over you. His voice was a soothing balm to the raw edges of your panic. Gradually your fear subsides and is replaced by a weary relief. As your breathing evens out Hotch’s arms remain a gentle, unyielding presence around you. In this quiet space with the security of his embrace shielding you from the world outside you finally allow yourself to feel the full weight of your vulnerability—and the strength of the trust you have in him.

The panic attack recedes like a tide going out. It left you drained but inexplicably more grounded than before. Hotch holds you a little while longer making sure you're completely calm before he speaks again. "You’re not alone in this," he assures you as his tone is imbued with an earnestness that makes you believe him. That there might be a way out of the darkness.

As the last of your tears dry Hotch steps back slightly giving you space but keeping his presence comforting and solid. He ushers you to sit without words before pulling up a chair close to yours. His demeanor still radiating calm and concern. You notice his jaw tighten for a moment, a silent tell to his anger at seeing you hurting so openly.

As you finally voice the painful truth, "He's been hurting me, Hotch," the words echo starkly in the quiet office. Saying it aloud makes it all too real. A wave of embarrassment washes over you. Your gaze drops to your hands, fidgeting with the ends of the scarf. You can't bear to meet his eyes as you were afraid of what you might see there—pity, shock, or worse, disbelief.

Your fingers tremble as you slowly unwrap the scarf from around your neck, exposing the harsh evidence of your partner's violence. The bruises are stark against your skin. A palette of black and blue that makes your stomach churn. When Hotch sucks in a breath, a sound of sharp distress, you flinch, the sound bringing home the reality of your exposure.

"I'm so sorry," Hotch breathes out. His voice thick with emotion. You still can't look at him being too overwhelmed by a mix of shame and the relief of finally sharing your burden. The room suddenly feels too small. The air too thick with the weight of your confessed reality.

"You don’t have to go through this alone anymore," Hotch continues. His voice a steady, grounding force in the chaos of your emotions. Despite his words a knot of anxiety tightens in your chest. The vulnerability of the moment making you acutely uncomfortable.

Hotch's chair scrapes softly against the floor as he moves slightly closer. "I'm here, and we'll do whatever it takes to ensure he can't hurt you again," he says with a resolve that is both reassuring and overwhelming. You finally risk a glance up at him, meeting his gaze. Instead of the judgment you feared, you find only deep concern and a protective firmness. You shouldn’t have expected any less than that from him.

Seeing your hesitation and discomfort, Hotch reaches out slowly, giving you time to withdraw if you choose. When his hand gently takes yours, it's a lifeline, solid and warm. "We'll figure this out together," he assures you. His voice low and calm. "Let’s focus on what you need right now."

Tears well up in your eyes as you meet his steady gaze. Your fear of your partner bubbling to the surface. "I'm scared, Hotch," you whisper, your voice breaking with the weight of your admission. "I'm afraid of what he might do if I leave. He could do something drastic..." The possibility hangs heavily between you. A dark cloud of fear.

Hotch squeezes your hand gently. His touch reassuring as it always is. "We'll take every precaution," he promises with his tone imbued with determination. "You're not alone in this. We have resources and procedures to protect you. Trust me Y/N. You're safe."

His words were spoken with such a conviction that slowly penetrate the fog of your fear. The immediate comfort of knowing you're not alone, bolstered by Hotch's unwavering support, helps to steady the tumult inside you. The future may remain uncertain but with Hotch by your side you feel a spark of hope. A hope that perhaps you can break free from the shadows and rebuild your life once again.

The conversation with Hotch stretches late into the evening as a mix of detailed planning and moments of quiet support. Once the office empties and the building quiets Hotch makes a decision. "Why don't you stay with me tonight?" he suggests gently. "It's late and I'd feel better knowing you're safe." You agree, feeling a mix of gratitude and anxiety about the imposition. Hotch reassures you it's no trouble. Together you leave the dimly lit office, stepping into the cool night air that seems to offer a breath of tentative freedom.

The drive to his home is quiet, filled with the soft hum of the car and the distant glow of streetlights. Upon arriving, Hotch introduces you to his home with a warmth that's both inviting and respectful of your space. He shows you to the guest room making sure you have everything you need before he leaves. "Make yourself at home," he says. "We'll figure out the next steps in the morning." You give a grateful nod before heading to bed yourself. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep after your head hit the pillow. You’d truly never felt safer than you had right then.

The next morning as you make your way to the kitchen, Jack spots you and his face instantly lights up. "You're here!" he exclaims before running towards you with arms wide open. You kneel down just in time to catch him as he launches into a big hug. His enthusiasm bringing a genuine smile to your face. "I missed you!" he chirps, and you can't help but laugh, the sound mingling with his giggles.

Hotch watched the interaction from the doorway and smiles warmly but also feels a pang of concern given your recent ordeal. As Jack wraps his arms around you, Hotch steps forward and gently places a hand on his son's shoulder. "Be careful, buddy," he says softly, his voice tinged with protective caution. "She's a little hurt."

Jack’s expression immediately shifts to one of concern as he pulls back slightly. His bright eyes scanning your face with a mix of confusion and worry. "Did I hurt you more?" he asks, his voice small, his usual cheer replaced by a serious, almost adult-like concern.

You shake your head quickly making sure to offer him a reassuring smile. "No, Jack, you didn’t hurt me at all," you explain while ruffling his hair gently. "I'm just a little sore, that’s all. Your hug is actually just what I needed."

Relieved but still slightly cautious, Jack nods and gives you a gentler, more measured hug this time. Hotch watches this exchange. His own heart swelling with mixed emotions—gratitude for the innocent care Jack shows and a renewed resolve to ensure that both you and his son are kept safe from any harm.

Later as Jack plays outside, Hotch joins you on the porch with a thoughtful expression on his face. He watches his son for a moment before turning to you. His gaze serious yet open. "This morning, seeing you with Jack… the way he lights up around you. It reminded me of something important I've been meaning to share," he chooses his words carefully as he speaks to you.

Your gaze lets him know he can continue. "I ended things with Beth a few months ago," he reveals letting the statement hang in the air for a moment to gauge your reaction. "It was the right decision. My heart wasn't fully in it, and I realized I needed to be honest with myself about my feelings."

You're taken aback. Your surprise evident. "Oh, I... I had no idea. She seemed so lovely," you reply trying to mask your confusion. Beth had always appeared perfect for him. She seemed kind, attentive, and good with Jack.

Hotch nods, acknowledging your point. "She was lovely," he admits, "but she wasn't what I was looking for. Not what Jack needed either." His gaze drifts towards his son, watching him play with a gentle smile.

He then turns back to you with a thoughtful expression. "We needed someone who could really be a part of our lives, understand us. Someone who already fits so seamlessly into our little world," he adds. His eyes held yours for a moment longer than necessary, hinting at deeper layers to his words.

The implication of his statement hangs between you, stirring a mix of emotions between the both of you. His revelation not only adds a new dimension to your understanding of his current situation but also subtly places you at the center of his thoughts. The gentle hint that you might be the answer they needed feels both overwhelming and heartening.

"I just want you to know that I'm here for you, especially now," Hotch continues. His tone sincere. "It's been a tough time and you shouldn't have to go through it alone. Whatever support you need. I'm here."

As you absorb his words, a sense of safety envelops you coupled with a budding realization of the importance of your presence in his life. Not just as a colleague but potentially something more. The careful balance he maintains in offering support while subtly revealing his personal reflections provides a comforting stability as you navigate the complex emotions of your current situation.

Several days had passed since you sought refuge at Hotch's home after breaking things off with your ex. Each day Hotch gently suggests reasons for you to extend your stay. His concern palpable. "Just until we’re sure you’re safe," he reassures you, but his eyes betray a deeper plea for you to remain longer.

One evening after Jack is safely tucked into bed Hotch opens a bottle of wine and pours two glasses. He hands you one with a soft smile that doesn't quite mask his underlying nervousness. "Thought we could use this," he says as he joins you on the couch. The house is quiet, the subtle buzz of the evening creating a cocoon of calm around you.

As you sip the rich wine, the warmth it brings is matched only by the comfort of the familiar space. Hotch breaks the silence first, his voice low and laden with unspoken thoughts. "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking," he starts. Hesitating as he chooses his words carefully. "About what’s important... about what I want for the people I care about."

He pauses before taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "I want you to stay here a little longer. Not just for safety but because it feels right having you here. These days with you and Jack... they’ve felt more like home than anything I've known in a long time."

The atmosphere shifts charged with an emotion that’s both tender and terrifying. Hotch continues with his voice softening, "I think we could be good for each other… if you're willing to see where this might go."

Moved by his candidness and the earnestness in his eyes you find yourself nodding slightly. Your own emotions mirrored in his expression. "I've felt it too," you whisper. "It’s easy with you. With Jack.."

Hotch reaches out, his hand covering yours. His touch warm and sure. "I can love you so much better than he ever did," he says with a confidence you hadn’t heard from him. His voice deep and resolute. Then, taking another deep breath, he adds, "I love you. I love you with everything in me. More than I ever thought possible."

His confession, raw and powerful, cuts through the last of your reservations. Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the depth of his feelings laid bare in the quiet of the night. This isn't just a moment of comfort. It's a turning point, a beginning of something profound and life-altering.

As you sit there, the night deepening around you, you lean into him with your head resting against his shoulder. "I love you too, Aaron," you admit to him. Your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. In the soft glow of the living room, you start to imagine a future that holds not just safety, but a shared life filled with love and understanding.

Two years have woven themselves seamlessly into the fabric of your life with Hotch and Jack. What began as a sanctuary in times of turmoil has blossomed into a full, shared existence, each day deepening the bond between you all. The BAU team, integral to your journey, has watched this transformation and played a part in nurturing your collective happiness.

On a sun-drenched Saturday, Hotch has orchestrated a gathering under the guise of a simple spring barbecue at a picturesque local park. The team is there, along with Jack, who’s energetically darting around with Rossi and Prentiss in a spirited game of soccer. Garcia is setting the mood with a carefully curated playlist while you and JJ are laughing over a shared joke by the picnic tables.

As the afternoon wanes with everyone sated by laughter and good food, Hotch taps his glass gently with a fork drawing eyes with the subtle, familiar command of his presence. The conversations taper off, leaving a blanket of anticipatory silence.

“I’ve spent much of my life dedicated to understanding moments—capturing them before they slip away,” Hotch begins, his voice resonating with a rare tremor of vulnerability. He looks over at you, his eyes shimmering with unspoken words. “But the moments I’ve cherished the most have been with all of you—my team, my family. And especially with you,” he turns fully towards you, taking your hand in his.

Jack, picking up on the significance of the moment, quiets down and moves closer. His young face alight with curiosity and excitement. Hotch’s gaze softens as he kneels in front of you. A gesture that pulls at the heartstrings of everyone present.

“Since you entered our lives, you’ve brought light into shadows I didn’t even know existed. You’ve made a house feel like a home again, and you’ve taught me that love isn’t just a remnant of the past but a promise for the future,” he continues. His voice thick with emotion. From his pocket, he produces a small, velvet box, opening it to reveal a ring that captures the late afternoon sunlight.

“Will you marry me?” His words, simple yet profound, hang in the air.

Tears stream down your cheeks, joyous and unrestrained, as you nod emphatically. Words were lost in the swell of emotions. “Yes, Aaron, yes!”

Jack jumps up, cheering, "She said yes!" His delight infectious bringing the team to erupt into their own cheers. Garcia captures every second, her lens fogging slightly with her own tears.

Spencer, who has been quietly observant, steps forward with a bottle of champagne. “To new beginnings,” he says. His voice steady but emotional, reflecting his deep affection for both of you. He pops the cork, and as the champagne flows, so do the congratulations.

Morgan playfully nudges Hotch, while JJ, ever the emotional heart of the team, hugs you tightly, whispering, “He’s never looked happier.”

You grin to one of your very own best friends. “I’ve never been happier.”

As the evening unfolds with laughter and shared stories, the sense of family deepens. The park was bathed in the glow of sunset, feels like a snapshot of a new chapter. One filled with love and the quiet promise of forever. Your heart, full and overflowing, knows this is just the beginning.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

#aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #jack hotchner #x female reader #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds

[berryzxx]

hii! so for the short hufflepuff gf x mattheo riddle, could u write some headcanons please?? ily ❤️

Mattheo x Hufflepuff reader

i love this pairing sm

Before you even start dating his eyes always follow you around, looking at the way you smile at almost everything, your laughter, the way you cross your arms when your angry. Everything.

He doesn't realise he's basically in love with you so when you get partnered together he doesn't know what the excitement and happiness he's feeling is

This is the first time you've really noticed Mattheo because otherwise he was just another Slytherin for you

But once you do notice him, my god do you think he's hot. His chocolate eyes? Those gorgeous curls? The smirk? Yeah your fucking done for

Your in potions together and your stirring the wrong way but Mattheo doesn't want to say anything because of the cute look of concentration on your face.

Instead he looks down at you and takes the stirrer from you "It's this way sweetheart"

Oh my fucking god. When you hear his teasing words, and the word sweetheart your literally melting on the spot. Your cheeks are bright pink and your basically blushing like crazy

He LOVES teasing you about your height "Your like half of me" "I could easily pick you up" "Your so cute when you shout at me from down there"

Sometimes his teasing gets to you so you decide ignoring him is the best option. Of course that lasts a good 5 minutes "Look at me when I'm talking to you" "Don't think ignoring me is getting you anywhere, princess"

Once you can basically class yourselves as friends Mattheo asks you to come to the quidditch game wearing his jersey

"Come on sweetheart. I need my biggest supporter there" His eyes are wide and pleading so who are you to say no?

Of course after Slytherin win your so happy you give him a hug and god is he shocked. Like so shocked that he doesn't even hug you back.

"Sorry I...I was just happy for you" You back away awkwardly but Mattheo is finally realising how much he loves you

How much he loves staying up sneaking into each others dorms to finish homework together

Going into the kitchen for a midnight snack and seeing you on the way too

Getting you your first detention ever because you were talking way too loudly with Mattheo

After this realisation hits him, you have your first kiss in the middle of the fucking quidditch pitch but luckily everyone's mostly gone

"God I can't get enough of you" "I promise I'll treat you right darling" "Let me prove to you how much I love you"

Literally him rambling and waiting for u to say yes after he asks you out, slightly stressing because you haven't said anything (stressing a lot acc)

Once your dating he does not leave your side. He is so so so fucking protective of you like it's unreal

"Just because you didn't want to be mean doesn't mean I don't want to punch the shit out of him"

Whenever you walk down corridors he loves having his arm around your waist or holding your hand

To you he is the fucking funniest man on this earth, the little comments and sarcastic remarks always have you smiling and trying not to laugh or else it'll get to his head

Also he loves giving you his hoodies to wear because their like dresses on you at this point because of your height (their also super comfy which is why you end up stealing them)

You also can't lie to him. He can get anything out of you once he flashes those chocolate brown eyes at you

k...um they were in a slightly random order but i hope they made sense. hope u liked it lovely <3

#berrywrites #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo headcanons #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo x hufflepuff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x reader headcanons

[midnightcrw]

Little Vase

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: Your daughter, Daisy, is trying to find something

a/n: This was inspired by one of the reblogs @connorsui made about my one-shot "Awake." I just got a bit inspired and thought that this would be a good idea. You don't have to read the "Mama's Boy" one-shot I wrote, but there is a little bit of a reference. I hope you all will like it, especially @connorsui , since she always reblogs my stories and leaves sweet messages

The few weeks didn't seem to go so well as Daisy started to doubt herself more and more each day because of school.

Daisy wasn't dumb and she knew that, well, she used to know that, but now every day felt like an endless, boring routine that she couldn't find any joy in.

"What's with the dull face?" Your voice was heard from behind her as she just realized that you were watching her. And usually she wasn't the one to cry, but seeing you brought tears to her eyes.

"I..." she tried to start the sentence, but cut herself off as she suddenly began to sob softly.

Immediately you went to her side and embraced her as you let her cry her heart out to you about the fact that she had been feeling terrible about herself.

"Daisy, look at me," you said, but your daughter just buried her face in your chest, "please," and she looked up. Just like Simon, whenever the word "please" fell from your lips, they always listened.

Her eyes were red from crying as you could almost feel your heart breaking, "You're not dumb, okay? You're so smart, everything you do is perfect, and there's nothing wrong with you and your accomplishments. It's okay to fail, it's okay to feel sad, but what's not okay is to insult yourself. You're my daughter, you're your dad's daughter, and you're perfect. There hasn't been a single day that I regret having you and no matter what you do, I will always support you" It was even difficult for you to speak without a wavering tone because the hatred Daisy felt for herself reminded you all too much of Simon's thoughts about himself.

A single tear slid down Daisy's face as she only nodded, obviously too scared to say anything that might make her burst out in tears again.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head "How about we both go to the park?"

Rattling drawers and frantic footsteps could be heard as Simon began to frown at what was going on downstairs. From the footsteps alone and the loud noise, Simon could tell that it wasn't you, but most likely Daisy.

And when the noises didn't stop for the next five minutes, he started to go downstairs when he saw his daughter running through the whole living room, probably trying to find something by throwing opening more drawers.

"You need something?" Simon's gruff voice was barely audible as Daisy just kept going, only giving him a glance.

"Teenagers," he muttered under his breath. Everyone always told him that once your child was a teenager, it would be one of the most confusing years, and Simon definitely understood.

Sometimes she didn't answer, sometimes she got angry and only in the rarest of moments she was at peace, but Simon could never be mad at her.

He had been a mess his whole life until he met you, so if there was one person who could relate, it would definitely be him.

"Little lady, what's the matter?" He asked, knowing that using 'little lady' would make her react, since she didn't like that nickname.

The rattling stopped for a moment as Daisy turned to face him. One... two... three-

"Don't call me that!" There it is, he thought as a triumphant smile made its way across his face.

His daughter just gave an annoyed huff as she continued her search. Simon could only roll his eyes as he watched her. At least you're not at home right now, because you'd probably be angry about the mess she's currently making.

The pillows are on the floor, the drawers are wide open, and the contents are spread out on the floor.

"You're going to clean that up," he said, though Daisy didn't respond back, almost even tripping over the carpet, but before he could rush over she was already back on her feet.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the coffee table where several things were lying in front of it, crouching down with a pop from his knee and a silent 'fuck', cursing softly as he began to pick up some of the items.

"You're getting old," Daisy declared in an amused tone as Simon shot her a look across the room, "We'll see who's laughing when you're in your thirties, because I held up pretty well in the military. You complain while you get the remote control," he replied gruffly as he resigned himself to sitting on the floor and putting the items back in the drawer from there.

"Also, answer my question, Missy," he threw one of her soft childhood toys at her head as she said "ouch"

"So dramatic," he exclaimed as Daisy just narrowed her eyes at him and threw the toy back, trying to hit his head with it, but Simon caught it.

"Fucking reflexes," she cursed quietly, but not quiet enough as he heard her. "Language!" He scolded her in a stern tone.

"You were the one who taught me the word."

"And I regret it every day," Simon said in a hushed voice as he felt shivers run down his spine.

He remembered how angry you were with him when the second word Daisy said as a baby was "fuck" and not "mom".

Slowly getting to his feet after closing the drawer, Simon rubbed his lower back, his eyebrows furrowed at the unpleasant sensation, and it seemed that Daisy had finally found what she was looking for as she immediately rushed into the kitchen, him following her.

Standing in the door frame, his daughter began to fill a vase with water as she placed several daisies in it.

And then a picture of Simon's mother flashed before his eyes. The sight of her putting daisies in a little vase to display in the kitchen when he was a little boy.

"Why?" The sudden question made the teenager turn around with her eyebrows raised in confusion. "The flowers," he said as Daisy understood.

"Two days ago, Mom and I went to the park and she told me some of the meanings of flowers. She said that daisies mean new beginnings, so I went to get some today," there was a little sparkle in her eyes, obviously wanting to believe in a new beginning for herself.

You had told him that she was upset and why she was upset, but he didn't know that you had told her the meanings.

Simon could only watch as she continued, "I'm sure Mom already told you that I cried and I want to be more confident, so maybe this will be a good start," her tone was enthusiastic as she smiled, revealing her dimples.

Just like her, he thought.

When Simon's mother told him about the flowers and smiled, her dimples were also visible. Deep and sunken and something he remembered quite well. Unfortunately, he never got the dimples he wished for because they reminded him of his mother, but Daisy had them.

And now it hit him even harder as he looked at his little girl, who at that moment almost resembled his own mother. Sparkling eyes, smiling face, dimples all visible.

Oh and how he yearned for Daisy to meet his mother, she would have been her grandmother now, but sadly Daisy never got to meet her.

"Dad, is everything-" before she could finish the sentence, she was engulfed by Simon's arms around her, holding her tightly against him as tears streamed down his face, his lip trembling as he bit onto his lower lip, trying to keep himself from sobbing.

Although Daisy was confused at the sudden embrace, she began to wrap her arms around him as Simon inhaled her scent shakily while he ran a hand through her hair and kissed the crown of her head.

"Love you, kid," he whispered softly.

"Love you too," she said as she let her head lay on his chest.

"I'm home," you said as you walked into the living room, where you saw Simon and Daisy sleeping in each other's arms as you smiled fondly.

Quietly, you took the blanket that was lying on the couch as you placed it gently over them, not wanting to wake them, but Simon has always been a light sleeper as he opened his eyes and immediately asked if you had told her.

"Told her what?" You asked back with confusion laced in your tone.

Your husband gestured toward the kitchen, whose door was already open, and you frowned at first until you saw the daisies in a vase.

"Well, I never told her that your mother used to do that," you confessed, as you could see Simon visibly swallowing as his Adam's apple moved.

"Just like her," he finally murmured what he had been thinking, "I wish she was still alive to see her," Simon said with a strained voice as you sat down next to him and kissed his cheek gently.

"I'm sure your mother would have loved her. She's probably watching you right now, and let me tell you, she's so proud of you, Simon," you whispered as Simon moved his head to kiss your lips with his trembling ones

Letting them linger for a moment before he pressed more fleeting kisses all over your face as you held his face in your hands to stop him with a chuckle.

Thank you, Simon mouthed silently with adoration in his eyes.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x y/n #cod x you #cod x y/n #simon x reader #simon ghost riley oneshot #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost x you #ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader

[russellsppttemplates]

Love notes (Charles Leclerc)

A look into Charles' notebook allows words and feelings to be exposed

Note: english is not my first language. The request didn't specify this, but friends to lovers was the first thing that popped into my mind and I know I'm not the only one whose favourite trope is that one so I did it ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions Charles' father and his passing and implications of the loss of someone close to the reader

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"And you want me to tell you that code?", you asked Charles over the phone.

Your boyfriend needed to go to the bank to sort a few errands out, and since you had finished moving the last boxes of your belongings to his apartment, you stayed back to tidy them and organise them within the apartment. As it turns out, he forgot to take the documents with the codes.

"Yes, please amour - it's in my notebook on my desk on the office", Charles asked, "I think I went as far as taking the paper out a little so it peeks out but I forgot to take it with me", you could hear the smile and blush on his face.

"Let me go there - don't you mind me looking on your notebook though?", you said as you moved through the apartment, "by the way, I have already found some space in the kitchen for mug collection - yay! Okay, found the notebook - is it the document with your signature or the one that has the details?", you questioned.

"The one with the signature, at the end, left side", Charles repeated what the bank assistant was telling him so he could help you find what he wanted, "and it's the third and fifth number on the Mobile Key".

"Okay, I have it - it's 4 and 1", you informed him, "those are the third and fifth numbers".

"Merci amour, I don't think I need anything else! Once I finish up here, I'll head home to you, I love you! And Y/N, I trust you with everything I have - I have nothing to hide", he offered, making you bid him goodbye before ending the call.

His words ressonated with you as you flickered through the pages, noticing some doddles and racing notes before you decided to look at it from the beggining.

The first page had what looked like a poem and it dated back to the end of 2016.

My father told me to be careful

- Try to slow down a little

You don't ponder nor stay still

You don't belong or give yourself to anywhere

He said - my boy, you know what you're capable of

The world awaits you, go ahead and smile

You don't want to be left behind

It's not been easy dealing with everything. There's hope and there's the want to do more to prove everyone that I belong in Formula One. Still, I'm happy that Prema decided to have me race for them next year in Formula Two and things should go up from there. Time and patience, work and rest. Spending time with the people I love most and care about me the most.

Y/N also progressed on her studies and she's doing really well - she makes our friend group very proud! The guys are investing on their careers too and it's nice to see that, in a way, we're all growing up.

The page went on about all the whereabouts of the group, who had gotten together with someone, who had moved out of their parents' house and the ones who got work offers. There were jotted up plans for the summer holidays that, in hindsight, were mostly realized.

When you turned it to the next one, the poem continued with the same tone.

My mother said to me

- You have to see what's happening

That girl is much more than a friend

And you don't want to lose her

She reads it in my eyes

Or in my open soul

I don't know how she does it

But no matter how much I deny it

My mother is always right

I really like Y/N. Not just as a friend, but also as someone who I want to share my life with.

Whenever someone wonders how I think my life will be like in five, ten, fifteen years, she's always there. There's racing - me climbing up the ladder to points, podiums, wins and championships -, and there is my family.

Y/N and our own family.

Mum claims she noticed it since we were kids and that right now is the right time. Y/N is single again and I can't afford to lose her. Lose her as a friend or lose the opportunity to confess my feelings, or the worst one: lose her because she doesn't feel the same or feel like being in a relationship right now?

It's funny how this works, how much I care about her and how it hurts me when she isn't feeling well. Or how bad I feel because I keep missing some of her university milestones because I'm racing somewhere in the world but she always call me and I'm right in her hand while her family and our friends are in the stands or waiting area.

Even though I'm the one that's furthest away, she keeps me close.

Charles had notes about you? He always carried the little notebook around but you assumed it was because of important information he wrote there. You didn't expect this.

His words rang in your ears as, while your boyfriend had told you he had been crushing on you for a while, he had never admitted feeling this doubt. Not to this extent.

Suddenly, it felt like you were taking a look from a different angle at Charles' soul. The intimacy and vulnerability wasn't foreign and you fell in love with him a little bit more.

Today is the day to get closer

To face her and see what she says

And if luck follows me

As I'm writing this, I hope Y/N is getting ready to meet me in the park. She looks beautiful in anything, but I'm hoping she wears one of her dresses that make her look like a real life princess.

Maybe we will be happy

What I have planned isn't elaborate, because I don't think she would like a big production, and I hope it's enough to show her where I stand.

I asked maman for some help with the cakes and cookies and got the rest from the shop, we're going to have a picnic and I've decided today is the day where I tell her how I fell about her.

There is no point in hiding it, and Joris and Riccardo seem so sure that she shares the same affection.

Today is the day to grab her

I hope she does.

To be with the one I always wanted

And if the nervous voice doesn't fail

Y/N said yes to being my girlfriend!!! As it turns out, she does feel the same and we both agree that it was a mixture of stubbornness and bad timing for eachother. Now, it's the right place and the right time.

I hope we will be happy

The memory is clear as day on your mind.

I confessed how much I love her and she reciprocated it.

Charles asked you to meet up with him at the park because he wanted to talk to you. The seriousness of the text was confirmed when you arrived, Charles pacing around the picnic blanket until his eyes found yours.

"I can't pretend anymore", he said, "you're the first person I look for when I get somewhere I know you will be too, I can't stand to see you hurt or upset and I will kick myself every day if I'm ever the reason you hurt, which I hope I'll never be. You deserve the world, Y/N, the moon and the stars, and I'm going to get them for you because I love you", he offered.

You had been so dumbfounded that you could only approach him and kiss his lips, cupping his face closer to yours, "I've been in love with you for so long, Charles", you whispered back.

It was the day where your love story truly began despite having existed for all of your childhood. You were his and he was yours.

Come with me, love is not time

Continuing to look through the notebook, you spotted some racing notes with numbers and acronyms you weren't sure that they meant, taking a while to find another page that had similar writing.

It's not even time that does it

Come with me, love is the moment

In which I give myself

Y/N is asleep right now as we fly back home after the race. She hasn't left my side and I think this is the first time she's sleeping since we got the news. We knew it was coming, but it doesn't mean that it hurts any less.

In which you give yourself

The feeling is unbearable. Someone who gives you so much also takes so much away from you when they go away. There's so much to go through, and all of the feelings haven't come up yet.

Maman is waiting for us with Lorenzo and Arthur, and I hope we will all find peace with this heavy feeling together.

Y/N told me the feeling may never leave, it creeps up when you least expect it and there are no rules to it.

Time is precious and I want to spend as much time as I can with the ones I love. God knows I did that with papa and it still feels like it wasn't enough.

The creak of the floorboards alerted you that someone else was inside the apartment before Charles' head peeked, "Hello, mon ange", he smiled, coming up to kiss your forehead.

It's these moments where we're not doing anything particular or special that mean the most. Y/N has given me all she's got and I've given her all of me, at the end it's the most human thing to do. Be there. Be present. Allow the other to feel everything they need to feel and protect them. Y/N has protected me and she's never let me doubt that we are for each other.

"I looked through these - I didn't mean to invade your privacy but I got curious", you admitted. It would be no use to lie about it or try to hide it away.

Time will wait, stop there

"Did you like what you found?", Charles asked, pulling the other office chair to sit at the table with you, "I have this one here that I really like actually", he flickered through the pages.

So I can stay like this looking at you

Time knows well, even time understands

That someone doesn't rush

"I wrote this one when we were on holiday, it the boat", Charles tapped the page, "you looked so beautiful that day and I felt like I was running out of time to appreciate you. Then I spent the whole afternoon watching you and I felt like time slowed down a little bit because it knew I was appreciating you", he charmed.

That looks at you like I do

"These are very beautiful, Charles - this one is so beautiful", you smiled, kissing his cheek and cuddling up to his arm as he continued to leaf through the notebook.

Call me an adventure and come and have an adventure

There were also drawings and loose poems along with some photos he kept of you two. One of the hike you had done in Ibiza last year caught your eye. You stood on top of the rock and by the way your arms were positioned, you were calling Charles to join you in there while he snapped the picture.

Change my plans and I promise I'll believe

That I'm the only one you want to see when you wake up

Your haven if the world collapses

Come and deceive me with that look of yours

The sweet way that trips me and without counting

Quench my thirst with a kiss to shut me up

Make me a poem and let me stay

I do not forget

But I want to hear from your mouth all the words that make me blush

Speak softly in my ear

And grab my hand

"This was last year, one of the seasons where I had to deal with so much disappointment in racing, and you never let go. You were there to hold me everytime things didn't go well, to celebrate my achievements and my podiums, and you still make it feel like an adventure every single day", Charles mused, "being loved by you is assuring, comforting, liberating, soothing, amazing, incredible and the best feeling I have on the world! Loving you? It's as incredible as it is a big responsibility because I have to make sure the adventure is still there and that we're both in it", Charles admitted.

Before the night is over

"Being loved by you makes me feel like the only other person in the world", you looked up at him.

"Loving you is making sure the time stops when you're with me so I can tell you all the silly stories I know just to make you smile, all of this to make sure you know you're the reason behind my happiness and the one behind the longing that never lies when you're not there. It's hugging you back tight and have my heart wide open because it's yours to take", he sighed with a smile on his face.

"I love you, Charles - being loved by you is the best thing I get to experience in this life", you smiled before kissing his lips.

"This helps me a lot when you're not with me, it's like I can talk to you", Charles muttered, "and I get to have the memories written out too, you never know when this can come in handy".

"You have no excuse if your speech in our wedding feels impersonal or doesn't have any memories then", you joked as Charles' finger lightly pressed down on the remaining pages of the notebook, making sure you don't get the idea to flicker through the random pages he has used to doodle the perfect engagement ring for you, smiling at the thought of having you be his forever.

"I definitely don't, amour - I'll make sure it's a good one when the time comes", he smiled.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fluff

[fyregrayfong]

Bitter

Summary: While dating Gary, Melissa found out about your new relationship that leaves her...bitter.

Note: I wrote this on a whim after listening to the song. I kept thinking this in my head and needed to write it out. Not Beta'd. I hope you enjoy

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader (gender neutral)

Warning: angst, mentions of alcohol towards the end

This is inspired by the song Bitter by FLETCHER, Kito

WC: 1.1k

Melissa sat at her desk, her manicured fingers tapping rhythmically on the wooden desk as she stared down at her phone. She was debating whether or not to send you a text. You both used to text constantly, sharing jokes, memes, little flirty quips, basically anything and everything. But lately, she noticed that once she and Gary started dating the messages had dwindled to almost nothing. They would still message but it wasn’t the same.

A badge pops up on her phone, y/n just posted a new photo. Melissa hesitated but then she opened the app and a small gasp escaped her lips. A photo of you looking out of frame in mid laugh with the caption, ‘best part of my week are lunch dates with you’. Melissa’s eyes darted up and she noticed that it was y/n’s girlfriend that posted it, some collaboration thing. She’s posting on your instagram now? You’re usually private. Whatever that means she can’t remember what Jacob taught her.

She slammed the phone screen down and covered her face then leaned back in her chair. She glanced up, her eyes inadvertently drawn to the clock on the wall. You would be arriving any minute now, probably hand in hand with the new girlfriend, the one Melissa had heard so much about but never wanted to meet. It all started innocently enough. Melissa and you had always shared a flirtatious rapport, a connection that danced on the line between friendship and something more. Yet, both knew that Melissa was with Gary, and you seemed content with the casual dynamic.

However, when you introduced your new girlfriend to everyone one lunch period, everything changed. Melissa hadn't anticipated the tidal wave of emotions that would crash over her upon seeing you together. It was a bitter pill to swallow, witnessing you with someone else, someone who now occupied the space that Melissa had temporarily claimed.

She sighed and slipped her phone back into her pocket, trying to shake off the feeling of disappointment that lingered like a heavy cloud over her thoughts. you had been her confidante, her partner in crime, even though they had always maintained a flirtatious friendship. But now, with you dating someone new, everything felt different. Though the mature part of her knew that she had no right to feel like this. She was dating Gary afterall and for the most part the relationship was great. 

As if on cue, the school entrance door swung open, you and your girlfriend walked hand in hand heading to the teacher’s lounge. Melissa saw them walk in the room and she couldn't help but notice the way your gaze lingered on your new girlfriend, the adoration evident in every glance. 

She forced herself to focus on the salad she brought for lunch, burying herself in her phone, finding anything to distract herself from the ache in her chest. But no matter how hard she tried, the laughter and banter that flowed easily between you and your girlfriend, every word felt like a knife twisting in her heart.

She stole a glance at you and your new girlfriend, her stomach churning at the sight. You were so happy, seem so in love, and Melissa couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She had thought she was enough for y/n, and had convinced herself that their friends with benefits arrangement was all they needed and no harm done when she decided to date Gary. She forgot the part that y/n wouldn’t be waiting around until she was single. But now, seeing you with someone else, it was like a slap in the face, a reminder of her own mistake.

She would catch herself looking at her phone waiting for a reply or a text from you, when there was a notification it turned out to be from either her mom or Kristen Marie. She knew she shouldn't care, shouldn't let your new relationship affect her the way it did. But no matter how hard she tried to rationalize her feelings, she couldn't escape the hurt, the sense of betrayal that gnawed at her from the inside out. Jacob walked in and was playing a song on his phone, a song you remember well.

The memories flooded back, overwhelming her senses as a familiar song filled the air. It was their song, the one they used to dance to in your living room, the one that had always made Melissa feel like this could be something more. But now, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost.

Melissa forced herself to smile through the tears that threatened to spill over, pretending that she was fine when all she wanted to do was run away and never look back. She felt like a spectator in her own life, watching as you and your girlfriend laughed and joked, wondering if she would ever feel like she belonged again.

She glanced up again, her eyes locking with yours across the room. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like they were the only two people in the world. But then you gave her a soft smile until you looked away, your attention already drifting back to her, leaving Melissa back to her thoughts.

Lunch breaks at work became torturous affairs, filled with forced smiles and polite conversation on the days that your girlfriend would visit for lunch. Melissa couldn't escape the feeling of being on the outside looking in, forever excluded from the intimate bond that you now shared with someone else.

Even social gatherings with their mutual friends became bittersweet occasions. Melissa watched as you and your girlfriend mingled and started to really integrate with the group. She longed for the days when she and you had been the ones sharing secret smiles and stolen glances. Jacob had suggested that everyone should meet up for drinks after a hectic week of testing. Everyone agreed and it was one of the rare moments that everyone was in one place outside of work. 

Gary and Gerald were in the midst of a conversation while Barbara was telling Melissa about their upcoming plans for Sunday brunch. Yet her gaze went over to the younger group of teachers, forced to watch as you and your girlfriend danced in the middle of the packed bar with eyes so warm looking at each other in an embrace while Jacob and Janine were there recording the interaction. She saw as you held a glass of whiskey you started raising it for a toast with Gregory when he arrived. And in that moment, Melissa knew that no matter how hard she tried to push her feelings away, no matter how much she pretended to be okay, the bitterness would always linger, a constant reminder of what she had lost. Yeah she’s bitter.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary

[myhappylittlesideblog]

On the Fence

A/N: Some Daryl comfort for y’all. Hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

W/C: 2k

Warnings: typical TWD gore and violence, killing walkers on the fence (prison era after Woodbury falls), Daryl comfort

Summary: (Y/N) is new to life at the prison and terrified of what the world has come to after living in the safety of Woodbury. Daryl helps her with the transition and advises her on how to stay alive when walkers are near.

“What?” Daryl grunted once he saw Carol’s smirk. It was clearly aimed at him, cutting across her pleasant face, teasing him.

“Nothin’. Just didn’t know anything could take your attention off fresh venison.”

He took another bite and slurped the juice from his thumb as he glared at her.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

She laughed. “I did thank you. Earlier. You probably didn’t hear me because you were distracted then too.”

He stared back out over the prison yard, trying to ignore Carol and the way she could read him at all times, know exactly what was on his mind even when he himself wasn’t quite sure. Even now his head swam with this feeling he couldn’t put words to. It circled through him, just out of reach and made things fuzzy.

“She’s down there again,” he said.

The girl from Woodbury.

These days there were a lot of people at the prison. He knew all the newcomers by their faces, if not their names, and as they grew to recognize him, they swarmed him, asking for his laundry, signing up to follow him on a run, thanking him for the latest meal he’d brought back from a hunting trip. He was slowly getting to know them all.

But the girl on the fence intrigued him the most.

“You’re right to worry about her,” Carol said.

“M’not worried,” he grunted.

“Sure.”

He turned to her. “M’not. Got enough ta worry ‘about these days without addin’ somethin’ else.”

Carol shrugged. “You’re right. I just meant that she seems a bit off. The transition from Woodbury must have been hard.”

“No harder than takin’ in a whole extra town a’ people.”

Carol held her hands up in surrender. “Hey, you’re the one watchin’ her all the time.”

She left his side before he could find a rebuttal. He chewed on his meal alone, trying to keep to his own business.

Everyone watched everyone around here. It was part of the ‘it takes a village’ mindset. Gotta keep an eye on everyone, especially the new ones, he thought. Most of them were inexperienced in the new world. Those are the ones who get into trouble.

From the beginning, he could see through you. You were just a girl- a young woman- who’d lived in a protected town during the entirety of the outbreak and now you were thrust into a prison surrounded by the walking dead. He knew Carol was right, that such a change would affect anyone. Hell, it could send some off the deep end and he didn’t want that to happen to you.

You were kind and helpful, generous with your time and smiles. But you stayed indoors as much as possible. You took on babysitting and story time regularly and happily spent your free time doing laundry and cooking for the crowd. Your whole demeanor changed when you looked outside, as if you too would be dead the minute your shoe touched the grass.

Which is why he was caught by surprise the first time he spotted you down on the fence line. Not only had you left the safety of the prison’s walls, but you had snuck past the gardens, all the way down to the outer fences. You stood, crowbar in hand, just a couple feet from a small herd of walkers pushing on the barrier wall.

You had never volunteered to work the fence and the council didn’t push anyone. After all, you always did more than your share of work inside. There was no need for you to take on more.

Daryl had watched you that first time, and each time after that. You’d walk down to the fence line and stand there, watching the walkers gather. You’d stare at them, but never raise your weapon. And then you’d leave.

He had a feeling he knew why.

***

They were so loud against the fence. Each one of them had a different growl or snarl or cry, like they would have all had different sounding voices when they were alive.

But they’re not alive, you had to remind yourself. They’re not who they once were and now, they’re dangerous. You had to learn how to kill them, even with their horrible, overwhelming noises that scared you almost to tears. And you weren’t even that close to them yet.

You forced yourself to take another step toward the outside fence, squeezing the iron crowbar in your hands. It’s safe behind the fence, you convinced yourself. Just stab them in the brain.

A squelching sound brought your attention fully back to the monsters in front of you. Gross, gray fingers grabbed at the fence and pushed through towards you. Like a twisted birth, the zombie’s hand wrenched through the diamond of metal, slicing off its own thumb to get through. Dirty brown blood spurted from the thing and the lost digit fell to the ground as the desperate fingers reached for you until the walker’s elbow caught in the fence next.

Dazed with terror and disgust, you backed away until a hand landed on your back. You screamed at the touch, only choking it off when you saw that it wasn’t one of the dead that had a hold of you, but the camp hunter, Daryl Dixon. You were grateful, albeit embarrassed and somewhat scared to see him standing there.

He only looked you over for a moment before turning his focus to the reaching walker. He kicked the reanimated arm hard against the fence, breaking it off at the elbow, and ripped the crowbar from your limp hands.

“Gotta git ‘em in the head, ya know that,” he said, finishing off the thumbless walker himself.

All you could do was nod. Tears dropped from where they pooled in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks, finally free to fall now that you had someone to protect you.

He held the crowbar out to you but you wouldn’t take it.

“Why’d ya come down here f’yer so scared of ‘em?” Daryl asked.

You couldn’t look at him. Adrenaline steeped in humiliation and fear rushed through you and made your hands tremble. You were shaking uncontrollably and you knew it was obvious to Daryl as you lifted your hands to wipe the tear tracks from your face.

“C’mon. We got food inside,” he said.

You grabbed the crowbar from him after dragging your fist across your eyes, clearing them of tears. “No, I’m gonna stay here.”

“Can’t stay by yerself.”

You shrugged, but didn’t answer.

“S’no reason to scare yourself shitless down here-”

“I don’t want to be scared anymore,” you said, gripping the crowbar tightly in your hands and turning your back to Daryl. You planted your feet and stared at the things gathering on the other side of the barrier.

It’s safe behind the fence. Just stab them in the brain.

You held the weapon in the air and aimed. The weight of your body rocked back and forth in preparation, but you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t thrust forward. You couldn’t kill it. You weren’t meant for this-

Then Daryl was behind you, his chest pressed to your back. His hands covered yours, fingers curling around the crowbar.

“Count a three, alrigh’?”

You nodded.

“One, two, three-”

The power he gave you was palpable. It wasn’t just that he was strong, his arms helping you plunge the weapon through the walker’s skull. It was also the strength of mind his presence gave you. He believed in you enough to teach you, cared enough to help you. With him there, you could do it.

You aimed at another. His chest bloomed against your back as it filled with breath, readying himself for another blow. Arms stained with sweat and dirt caged your head and neck as they held tight to the crowbar in front of you. The effort it took to stab the weapon through a skull was probably minimal for Daryl, but for you, the work sent a grunt pounding from your body.

When the hit landed, it stuck hard into bone, sending you stumbling forward. But so quickly, so easily, Daryl caught you before you could fall any closer to the heathens reaching through the barricade.

He helped you yank the crowbar back through your side of the fence. When your balance returned, he came to stand in front of you, wiping the spattered blood from your face. “Not that hard, right?”

With his help, no, it wasn’t. But even though you appreciated Daryl and selfishly wanted him near more often than not, you didn’t want to depend on him. You didn’t want to depend on anyone.

“I’m sick of being so fucking scared all the time,” you mumbled.

He straightened, pulling his hands from your dirtied face. He nodded. “Bein’ scared is good, ya know,” he said. “Keeps ya quick. An’ smart. If ya get too used to ‘em, that’s when they getcha.”

“Feels like they already have,” you said. “Like my life is already gone. Can’t even step outside most days-“ You swallowed hard.

“That’s why ya come down here ‘n watch ‘em. Ta get used to ‘em.”

You nodded, looking down at the shoes of the wobbling dead, the backdrop to the self-severed thumb and the walkers Daryl had helped you take down. Just two of many.

“I thought if I could desensitize myself to them it would all be easier,” you said.

“Jus’ takes some time,” he said, reaching for the crowbar.

You didn’t let him take it. “I’m already so far behind everyone else-”

“Dun matter.” He chewed his lip, looking back up to the prison. “We’re not goin’ anywhere. Yer part of the group now and we’ll help ya ‘til it gets easier.”

“What if it never does?”

He slid the weapon from your hands and shrugged. “S’okay too.”

***

You’d hugged him before. He remembered when you’d first stepped on the prison grounds, you’d wrapped your arms around his waist before someone else had pulled you away, inside to the cell blocks. You had been in shock and his was a safe face that you’d seen before. That was all.

There were other times you’d touched his shoulder or gave him a casual, sloppy one armed hug when he’d skinned his hunts instead of having you do it, or when he’d returned from a long run. You were always kind to him- kind to everyone.

But this was different. Something more. Now, when you hugged him in thanks, it made his insides burn and swell up into his throat. Every place your bodies met warmed his flesh as if he were sunbathing on the equator. It was pleasant and felt morbidly addicting.

He didn’t miss the way you skidded away from the outside fence and closer to him as he led you back up the hill to the prison walls. He saw the fear still wreaking its havoc in you and only letting up when he closed the door to the cell block behind you. It pulled at him- you pulled at him in a way he didn’t expect from an outsider.

Somewhere deep in his gut, he couldn’t help hoping that it didn’t get easier for you. That you stayed exactly who you were- full of light and compliments and smiles. He didn’t want you to fall into the apocalyptic haze everyone else he knew had given in to. He wanted life to be about more than just survival for you. He knew it was selfish of him. The consequences swam around his brain. What could happen if you didn’t know how to protect yourself, didn’t learn to kill as easily as breathing, or worse- trusted too easily. Your world view was so pure, but so dangerous, and yet, when he looked through your eyes, he felt a little lighter himself. Maybe that’s why he was drawn to you from the beginning.

You weren’t just the girl on the fence anymore. Or the nice girl in the kitchen or with the kids. You were (Y/N). He liked that.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion imagine

[exhaslo]

Helloo! Can i request about moth reader and yandere miguel?.. I really appreciate all your writing! I hope you had a good day!

Tbh I'm not sure if you actually mean "moth" or if you meant "goth" but you know what...

Why not both? Haha, I think I have an interesting idea for it.

Warning: Possessiveness, experimentation, fluff, mentions of sex, manipulation

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

This was NOT how your experiment was supposed to go.

This was NOT how you expected your life to turn out.

This was NOT how you wanted Miguel O'Hara to see you.

You had always been the oddball at your job. Most told you that it was rare to find such a 'creature' like yourself. It was always frustrating to explain to those ingrates that you were just expressing yourself the way as many did during the Great Hero Age.

You were a proud goth. Not many committed to this life style anymore as they focused more on the future. Hell, you had spent a good amount of money trying to find old CDs and Vinyl's from back in the day. There were many things that had disappeared within the last hundred years.

All you wanted to do was bring back an old culture to the year 2099!

The only person who did not mind your lifestyle was one of your regulars...

Miguel O'Hara

The man was the definition of fine. He was tall, hot and oh so perfect. He had wanted to get to know you at your little coffee shop and quickly became your regular.

Miguel was understanding. He enjoyed listening to you talk and even took your suggestions. You knew someone as perfect as him would not join in your lifestyle, but you were just happy that he bothered to give you the time to explain.

However...

How would Miguel react to you now?

You were desperate for money, so you decided to take an offer from Alchemax-the biggest company in the city...If not, the world. The only problem was that you didn't expect for the turnout. This was not what you were expecting at all!

It felt like a nightmare! You felt different already compared to your futurist coworkers, but now...to your fellow humans? Alchemax turned you into a freak! Who would bother to look at you now? What were you going to do now?!

"Ah, my dear (Y/N), how beautiful,"

---------

From the moment he laid eyes on you, Miguel knew that you were special. Call it fate, but Miguel just knew that you were meant to belong to him.

Miguel knew that he had to control himself. He didn't want to scare you after all. So, he started by stopping by your work. Bringing up small chat, getting to know you. Loving everything about you. Loving to find out new things about you.

When you weren't working, Miguel would follow you home as Spider-Man. He needed to protect you. Such a fragile human like yourself knew not of how to protect themselves. You were a target for people to pick on.

And who better to protect you than Miguel?

Miguel made sure that no man got near you. Every guy who even dared smile or tried to flirt with you disappeared. Everyone who dared give you a hard time, Miguel made sure they were taught a lesson.

The more Miguel got to know you, the more he became obsessed with you. You were perfect for him. His lovely little doll. Miguel made a special room for you in his place. Put everything you would like and even started to take some of your stuff.

This room was going to be yours very soon. That bed would be where Miguel will show you his love. Where you will conceive his child and become his wife. Your body and soul will belong to him.

Miguel knew you were short for cash. He knew that no one wanted to help a freak like you. It was a shame. Only Miguel knew how wonderful and kind you were. How amazing your lifestyle was and how this world was too naïve to embrace you.

So, Miguel thought of a plan. He watched as you accepted the offer from Alchemax and went to get your blood done. It made Miguel shudder as he watched you undress for the doctor, wanting to make sure that you were healthy for the test.

That body was only for Miguel to see, but he will let this slide since it was a woman doctor.

Once the experiment began, Miguel watched from the sidelines. He waited for his moment to swoop in and change the procedure. Why? Because Miguel was going to give you a reason to stay with him.

"What have you done?!" You cried out, sobbing at your new form.

The doctors and scientists panicked and fled to find some information and excuse for what went wrong. While Miguel stood in awe at your beautiful new form.

Your DNA was now mixed with that of a moth. You had large gorgeous wings and your hair had streaks of white. You were crotched down on the floor, sobbing as you tried to cover yourself from the bright lights.

"Ah, my dear (Y/N), how beautiful," Miguel couldn't help but say cheerfully as he approached you, "Don't cry (Y/N), it's going to be okay."

"M-Miguel? W-What are you doing here?" You sobbed quietly, covering your eyes, "I-It's so bright...I'm getting dizzy."

"Shh, I know. I know,"

Miguel was careful with your wings as he wrapped his arms around you. Your warmth was comforting. Your scent, better than he could ever imagine. Who better than to love you now than him?

"I know you're confused, but come with me. I'll take care of you."

---------

Miguel was true to his word. You had followed the man whom you had a crush on, scared for your new form. Miguel gently explained what happened, saying that it was an error on the scientists he watched over. Since it was under his watch, Miguel claimed to take responsibility for you.

You wanted to find it strange that Miguel already had a room for you, but you were too stressed to care. Your mind was all over the place and your body felt strange. The room was dark and cool. Much to your liking.

"(Y/N), I brought you some food." Miguel called out.

As he entered, he held up a small lantern, to which you felt drawn too. You pressed yourself against Miguel, wanting to reach for the light, but Miguel chuckled and brought you back to the bed. His hand stroked your cheek, placing the food on your dresser,

"You are so cute, (Y/N)," Miguel whispered, kissing your head. You hummed lowly,

"Why...are you so kind to me?"

"Ah," Miguel chuckled lowly as he held your hand, "Because I love you. We were meant for each other."

That sounded nice. Honestly, who would love you now as you were? Hell, who would even want anything to do with you now? You were part moth. At least now your gothic lifestyle matched your new look. Hell, it made your wings pop out more.

"Miguel...I...I um, I like you too."

-------

Yes.

YES!

Miguel could hardly control his laughter as you fell into the palm of his hand. Of course you loved him. You had no one else to turn too. No one else to help you.

Miguel made sure to keep you believing that you needed him. From helping you figure out your powers, to fucking you senselessly during the night and day.

Miguel gave you everything you wanted.

Just as long as you behaved and listen to everything he did and said. Miguel smiled as you approached him in the living room, showing off the new gothic attire he had bought for you. Doing a little spin, Miguel groaned softly as you let your wings spread.

"So beautiful." He hummed. You smiled, sitting on his lap,

"Miguel...could we go out? I want to fly for a bit," You begged.

Miguel just smiled as you waited for his response. You knew of his secret and made sure to not do anything he wouldn't like.

"Of course, baby, but I have to give you a good reminder on what to do and what not to do,"

You just nodded, smiling as Miguel pressed you against the couch. Your back to him as your wings were on full display. Miguel groaned softly as he held your waist, ready to give you some good reminders about going outside.

After all...

You were Miguel's.

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

Def unique and different, so I hope you enjoyed!!!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you

[pomefioredove]

Imagine instead of rook voted for rsa, the reader did. Who is in a relationship with Vil.

Angst:333

ANON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME /light hearted

summary: betrayal of the highest order type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: established relationship, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, ANGST, hurt w no comfort

"I can't even look at you right now,"

The words hurt.

They burn coming out of his mouth, and they sting your skin when they hit you. You'd never heard a sentence with barbs before.

A part of you was hoping that he would shout. Chastise you, drag you off stage and scold you until his perfect throat was raw.

Instead, he had just... stared.

Vil stared at you after the loss. He stared when you admitted being the cause of it. He stared all the way back to the dorm, where he promptly holed himself up in his room, refusing to speak with anyone.

After an hour and a half of Rook and Epel begging for him to say something to them, he demands you.

And that brings you here.

"I am so... utterly... disappointed," he says. He's not wearing any makeup. His face is puffy and red.

You don't want to dwell on being the cause of that.

"I simply won't allow myself to beg for an answer. You have now to explain yourself, and then I don't want to see you."

You're quiet for a moment. There's really nothing you can say, but he's demanded an answer, and it's the least you can give him.

"I didn't think it would matter,"

His eyes sharpen. "Pathetic. That's the best you could come up with?"

"I was told to be fair-"

"There is no fair," he says, crossing his arms as if putting a barrier between the two of you. "There is no equality. I am your boyfriend. And more than that, you saw how hard everyone worked. How could you-"

His voice catches on that last word, and he stops himself. He takes a long, deep breath, and runs a hand through his hair. It seems more undone than usual.

"For him, of all people. Rook... I understand. Rook would chase the light from a laser pointer if it was pretty enough. But you...?"

Vil falls silent again, turning to face the door. His eyes, though narrow and sharp and uninviting, are glimmering with tears. You feel dizzy.

"Vil..."

He holds up a hand, silencing you. "That's enough. I suppose it's my own fault. I deluded myself into thinking I knew you better than that,"

Is there anything you can really say? Do? Or is this just broken beyond repair?

What is he thinking right now?

"I'm sorry,"

He's quiet.

"I know. But that doesn't fix anything,"

You're both quiet.

You hate seeing him like this. His face contorted into something meant to imitate anger, his body language closed off, but something in his eyes begging for you.

For you to what, you can't imagine. No apology could save this.

The silence passes you both by, although it offers no comfort. He clears his throat.

"I think you should leave. I need some time to think. I suggest the same for you,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #vil schoenheit x reader