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Omg so cute 😳

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・572 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kisses hehe, slightly suggestive

“See you tonight, angel,” Felix says, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. It’s chaste, short, familiar; your favorite form of farewell, exchanged inevitably before you part ways, even for only a few hours.

But this time, Felix doesn’t pull away afterwards, instead remaining so close to you that the tip of his nose is almost brushing yours, and there’s an ineffable glint in his eyes when he speaks again. (You should’ve known you were in danger.)

“Hang on,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet, and then he leans in again.

When he presses his lips to yours the second time, he moves with an intensity that you aren’t prepared for. You feel his fingers slide over the nape of your neck and tangle gently in your hair; your head tilts backwards from the weight of his kiss, his tongue feather-light against the seam of your lips, his mouth laving over yours as tenderly as if he’s trying to drink you, savor you. Dimly, you feel your waist bump against the kitchen counter, and Felix doesn’t even think when he moves a hand protectively to the small of your back, returning you to your rightful place against his chest.

You are breathless and lightheaded when your boyfriend breaks the kiss, his lips flushed and hair messy, looking like a walking dream.

“S'that a new lip balm flavor?” He asks.

Bastard.

You collect yourself just enough to give him an answer, but it sounds more like a blissful sigh than a spoken response: “Strawberry.”

The smile that crosses Felix’s face is mostly bashful, but you don’t miss the self-satisfied huff of laughter that comes with it.

“I like it,” he hums. “A lot.”

And he kisses you one more time, and then another.

He ends up being late to practice that day, his rushed apologies to Minho falling out of strawberry-tinted lips.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

Loved this!

they forget that it’s valentine’s day

valentine’s day isn’t always the best for everyone which is why i’m giving you a mix of angst and fluff ♡ i wrote this in less than 24 hours so there might be mistakes and it might suck so i’m sorry~

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive themes, angst

☆ taglist: @starlostseungmin @spicymooseeyes @venustired @chriscentric @l3visbby @abiaswreck @septicrebel @hwajin @svngcore @hyujinnie1 @staytheword @ughbehavior @sparkystraynger @erispancakes @still-a-stray @dadonbabysworld @qtieskz @imwithurmother @ketchupaeternum @midsoulz @reallyloudstarlight

This work is NOT to be copied, reposted, translated or plagiarized. Please remember to reblog and leave your feedback if you enjoyed it!

chan

— Chan finds you curled up on your shared bed fast asleep.

— His heart sinks when he notices the flower petals scattered about the room and the wine left untouched on the bedside table. Chan knows you fell asleep waiting for him—still dressed in the attire you were meant to wear out for dinner.

— In all honestly the holiday had completely slipped his mind since he had been swarmed with so many deadlines lately, all of his days had began to blur.

— He nudged you softly, watching you stir in your sleep before your eyes fluttered open.

— “Hi baby.”

— You blink at him before sitting up and taking in your surroundings, frowning as your eyes land on him.

— “Work run late?”

— Chan deserves the bite in your tone and the coldness of your gaze.

— “Y/n I’m sorry I—.” “You got caught up at work, another deadline that you took on, a misplaced file, a deleted track I know. It’s always something,” you sigh as you stand from the bed.

— “Just one day Chan,” your voice breaks as you reach for your pajamas discarded at the end of the bed, “Just one day. That’s all I asked but I couldn’t even have that.”

— You whisper the last part to yourself as you make your way towards the conjoined bathroom but Chan hears you anyway.

— While you shower, Chan takes in all of your hard work gone to waste and he can’t help but to curse himself as the tears fall.

minho

— Minho finds you curled up on the couch, working on your laptop with your headphones on. He notices Dori curled up next to you and he can’t help but coo. The sound gets your attention, rolling your eyes as Minho pulls out his phone to snap a picture.

— “Not again,” you whine as you hold your hand out to block the camera. “Please kitten just one? You both look so cute,” he pouts. You give in of course, letting Minho take a few photos of the two of you. It’s only then that you notice how dressed up he is.

— “Wearing that tonight?” Minho looks down at himself before nodding, “Yeah. I think these pants make my thighs look nice what do you think,” he questions as he poses causing you to giggle. “That and your ass. Makes me want to keep you here and eat you instead of dinner.”

— Minho launches one of the throw pillows at your head, trying to ignore the way his cheeks flush at the comment.

— “No can do kitten. I’ve got to leave in a few minutes or I’ll be late.” “What? Where are you going?” “Couple of guys wanted to get dinner and drinks so I might be home a little late.”

— Minho watches your face drop at that. He and Dori both jump when you slam your laptop shut. “Alright. Have fun hanging with your friends while I go eat dinner alone.”

— “Whoa whoa whoa,” Minho exclaims as he reaches out for your arm. “What’s wrong?” You scoff. “What’s wrong? Maybe the fact that my boyfriend is ditching me and our reservation on Valentine’s Day to hang out with a bunch of his single buddies,” you smile but there’s no humor behind it.

— “You might just be joining them in that aspect by the end of the night,” you spat before turning on your heel but you’re stopped by a yelp.

— “Wait it’s Valentine’s Day!?”

— “You really forgot?” Minho groans as he makes his way towards you before pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry kitten I completely forgot. Can I do anything to make it up to you,” he pouts before using his puppy eyes on you.

— You giggle before you wiggle your brows at him. “Think you could give me an appetizer before dinner,” you giggle before reaching behind him to smack his ass.

— Minho groans dramatically before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m the whole meal kitten.” “That you are. Maybe we don’t need the reservation after all.”

— The apartment is filled with giggles and kisses as you make your way towards the bedroom.

changbin

— Changbin let’s out a deep sigh when he walks in the door, toeing off his shoes as he discards his gym bag next to the couch.

— “So that’s where you’ve been?”

— Your voice startles him, spinning around to find you leaning against the the counter—arm crossed under the other as you sip your wine.

— Changbin takes in your attire and his heart drops.

— “Fuck Y/n I’m so—.”

— “Save it.”

— Your voice is harsh as you set down your glass before moving to make your way out of the kitchen. Changbin tries to reach out to stop you but you shrug his hand off of you.

— “Don’t touch me,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Don’t apologize to me. Just don’t—,” your voice breaks before you leave Changbin starting after your retreating form.

— Three hours he left you waiting in a restaurant for him to never show up.

— Changbin leaves you to cool off, knowing that nothing he can say or do will fix any of this. He knows you don’t care for Valentine’s Day anyway but leaving you waiting for him has surely tainted the holliday for you even more.

— Changbin thinks he deserves the pillows and blankets he finds laid out on the couch for him after his shower but he doesn’t deserve the pajamas or the stuffed animal he always sleeps with when he’s away from you.

— Changbin realizes as he lays in the silence of the living room that night that he doesn’t deserve your love.

hyunjin

— He’s nearly done with his painting when he hears a knock at the door.

— “Come in,” he calls over his shoulders before hearing the door open and shut once more. When he turns he finds you hovering in the doorway. “Hi love,” Hyunjin greets you but you don’t say anything, only stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

— “Am I not allowed to drop by?”

— Hyunjin’s brows furrow as he stands to make his way towards you.

— “No, you know you can. It’s just really late I figured you’d be getting ready for bed soon.”

— There’s no emotion on your face as you stare at him and Hyunjin feels his gut sink.

— “Did you get any of my messages?”

— “No, my phone died a couple of hours ago so I plugged it in and started painting. I haven’t checked it since—.”

— Hyunjin’s cut off as you hold your hand up. You nod before grasping the door handle. You meet his gaze and Hyunjin feels his heart drop at the sight of tears dancing in your eyes.

— “Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mutter before you’re leaving him once again in the silence of his bedroom.

— Hyunjin feels rooted in place. He had completely forgot it was Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin sighs deeply has he moves to where is phone rests on his nightstand.

— His chest tightens as he opens his chat with you, eyes stinging as he reads over your messages.

— hey hyun happy valentine’s day! i managed to get us tickets to that exhibition you’ve been wanting to see! meet me at 5? maybe we can get some dinner before it starts?

— i’ve tried calling and texting but i’m waiting outside of the museum. they opened the doors but i’ll wait a little longer

— i guess you aren’t coming

— just at least let me know you’re alright. I love you

— Hyunjin feels extremely shitty. He has to make this right. Hyunjin slips on his coat before making his way out of the apartment in search of his love.

jisung

— Jisung bounces from one foot to the other as he waits for you to answer the door.

— His palms are sweaty, trying to wipe them on the fabric of his jeans but failing with the giant bundle of flowers he’s currently holding.

— He had been caught up at the studio all day, completely unaware that it was Valentines Day until he checked his phone and noticed all of the pictures his friends had posted and their lovey dovey captions.

— It’s safe to say Jisung felt awful.

— That’s why after a quick shower and a trip to the convenience store he now stood on your doorstep at 1 a.m.

— You opened the door a few moments later, looking unamused at the bouquet of flowers in Jisung’s hands.

— “Forget something?”

— Jisung nodded bashfully before holding out the bouquet to you.

— “Y/n I’m so sorry. I know I’m a major asshole for missing out on spending Valentine’s Day with you. Please accept this shitty convince store bouquet and this bag of snacks as an apology. I promise that I’ll get you something nicer tomorrow—or well today since it is tomorrow already.”

— You stared at it before taking it with a small thanks.

— “It’s kind of hard to stay mad at you, you know?”

— Jisung’s gives you the biggest, gummiest smile at that. He steps towards you, taking you into his arms.

— “I’m all yours today baby. We can do whatever you want.”

— “Right now I just want you to hold me.”

— Jisung feels his cheeks heat as you snuggle against his chest.

— “That can be arranged but maybe let’s move the cuddle session to the bed or we’re going to freeze,” he shivers causing you to let out a giggle before pulling him into the warmth of your apartment and then into the warmth of your embrace.

felix

— He completely forgot it was Valentine’s Day and he feels awful.

— The two of you were always attentive with one another, taking turns making each other breakfast and doing things around the house for one another so it was when you gifted Felix a new upgrade part he had been wanting for his PC with a kiss on his cheek and a sweet “Happy Valentine’s Day” whispered in his ear that he realized he screwed up.

— In truth he was more torn up about it than you had been but he saw the slight bit of sadness behind your smile when you told him that it was alright. You were always too kind to him, he didn’t deserve you.

— Felix couldn’t get you much since it was late at night but he entered the kitchen with his gift to you hidden behind his back.

— Your eyes met his from where you stood drying the dishes.

— “I’m really sorry I forgot,” Felix blurted out.

— You sigh before setting the dish and the towel down, “I know Lixie. It’s okay—.”

— Felix shakes his head, “No it’s not. You deserve to wake up with breakfast in bed and a nice candle lit dinner and a relaxing bath, chocolate, flowers—.”

— “Lix,” you stop his rant before making your way towards him. When your only inches from him Felix removes his hands from behind his back, presenting what had been hidden behind his back to you.

— It’s when he hears your small gasp that he chances a look at your face.

— “I-I know they aren’t the best but they are for you.”

— You don’t say anything as you reach out to take the mug of flowers from him.

— Your breath shakes as your fingers caress the bundle of flowers.

— “They’re are perfect. No one has ever picked flowers for me before.”

— Felix lights up at that, a smile tugging at his lips.

— “Are you still upset with me?” Your eyes meet his, slightly glossy from his gift. “I wasn’t upset with you Felix. I think you were more upset than I was,” you say before setting the mug of flowers onto the counter and taking him into your arms.

— “Just having you here with me is enough okay? I love you,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

— Felix whispers his love to you before cupping your cheeks and sealing your lips with a kiss.

seungmin

— The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, not bothering to say a word to one another as the TV plays a movie in front of you.

— Seungmin knows you aren’t interested in it and neither is he. His chest tightens when he sneaks a look at you and sees the dried tears on your cheeks.

— The two of you are stubborn, neither of you wanting to give in first but Seungmin knew it was all his fault.

— You had made his favorite meal, dressed up all nicely for him and even wore his favorite lingerie all for him not to show up. Seungmin realized too late what day it had been, watching you clean up the meal you prepared and slipping out of the outfit and into something more comfortable.

— You hadn’t said a word to him since and honestly he couldn’t blame you.

— It was your first Valentine’s Day together and Seungmin had screwed it up.

— After some time, Seungmin reaches for your hand. He’s relieved when you don’t pull away. He lets himself slide closer to you, taking you into his arms.

— “I’m so sorry baby. I messed up.”

— Your gaze meets his and Seungmin’s heart drops.

— “I’m sorry too. I overreacted.” Seungmin shook his head before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You worked so hard to surprise me and I didn’t even realize what day it was. That’s on me not you, okay? You’re too good for me baby.”

— “That’s not true. I know you’re busy. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

— Seungmin wants to complain but the words die on the top of his tongue as you give him a knowing look.

— “I really love you, you know,” he whispers instead, breath hit against your lips.

— “I love you too Minnie.”

— Seungmin’s lips meet yours, much rougher this time. His hoodie slips from where it rests on your shoulders, causing a groan to slip from him as the lace of your bra peaks from beneath the material. He can’t help but to reach out and touch.

— “I don’t want to have make up sex. I don’t want you to do this because you feel sorry,” you sigh as you pull slightly away from him.

— Seungmin frowned before shaking his head, “Not make up sex. I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. Only if you want to though,” he whispers as he moves a strand of hair behind your ear.

— “I’d be happy to just hold you the rest of the night. Either way I’m going to tell you how much I love you.”

— A soft giggle leaves you as you press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

— When Seungmin makes love to you that night he makes sure to tell you how much you mean to him and worships every inch of you as if it’s his last time doing so.

jeongin

— Jeongin counts at least three empty cups and a plate of crumbs on your table upon entry to the café.

— Your arms are crossed as you stare out the window but he can’t decipher how you’re feeling. That’s until he makes his presence known and ends up being on the receiving end of your glare.

— “I’m a horrible boyfriend I know,” he sighs as he slides into the booth across from you, setting the bad down next to him.

— Your frown deepens at that, “You aren’t a horrible boyfriend.”

— Jeongin runs his hands through his hair, something he does out of habit when he’s stressed.

— “I don’t have an excuse. I should have realized what day it was and I shouldn’t have kept you waiting,” he frowns as he grasps the bag next to him before setting it on the table.

— “I know this won’t make up for making you wait but I hope you like it.”

— You cautiously take the bag from Jeongin before opening it. He watches your eyes light up, face void of any irritation that once once present as you pull the garment from the bag.

— Your eyes widen as you hold up the hoodie, not just any hoodie but the same exact one that Jeongin was currently wearing. You had been stealing it for months and while he would have just given it to you, he liked the idea of matching with you.

— Jeongin smiled as you sniffed the hoodie, smelling the perfume he had purposely drenched the material in.

— “Baby you shouldn’t have. Seriously this is so expensive,” you whisper as you hold the hoodie to your chest.

— “I’d spend everything in my bank account right this second if it meant making you happy.”

— You roll your eyes, but it’s playful. “You make me happy Innie, not your money.”

— Jeongin laughs, “I know baby. I’m only teasing. Go on, try it on.”

— You nod before slipping the hoodie over your shoulders, sighing as your wrapped in Jeongin’s scent.

— “Now what do you say we get out of here and go take some cute pictures.”

— You nod, taking one last sip of your drink before intertwining your fingers with Jeongin’s as he leads you out of the café but not before pressing a kiss to your temple and whispering a soft ‘I love you’ in your ear.

Ahhhh so cute!!

swipe — lee felix.

trope. lee felix. strangers to lovers. chronicles of a dating app. felix is extremely flirty. just fluff.

synopsis. i’m not looking to date right now, but my parents just sent me some computer parts and i saw on your tinder bio that you like assembling computers

word count. 3.2k words

warnings. none except for a few curse words

note. hi hello i got sent this rly funny photo of a conversation so i took inspiration from that and wrote this fic like a whiiile ago. i’ve had this in my drafts for a while so why not let it see the light of day!

Left. Left. Left. Left. Pause. Left. Left. Left. Left.

“(Name)!”

Yunjin offers no warning when her hands move to claw at your shoulders, intent on startling you without sparing a thought on your poor phone that had jumped out of your hands.

When you scare, she laughs, open-mouthed and loud as she plops herself on the spot next to you on your dorm’s mini couch. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Honestly, how do you even do that? I barely heard you walk into the living room!” You grumble.

You spare her a glance and notice she’s too dressed up to be staying the night in–white crop top that sits just above her hips with some low rise jeans to accentuate her features. Her hair is curled on the ends, recently dyed black and styled to look a little messy.

She must be going out.

Though you try not to think about it, the amount of times Yunjin goes out with her friends in a week is a constant reminder of how pathetic your social life is. While it didn’t quite bother you enough to accept her invite, it’d be nice to leave your dorm once in a while. It’s just that you haven’t found anyone you really clicked with like Yunjin.

“What are you doing?” She cranes her neck to try and see what you were so busy with that you didn’t see her from your peripheral vision.

You show her the app with no shame. It only makes her laugh tenfold, hands clutching her stomach with her head thrown back as if she wasn’t the one who had suggested you download it in the first place.

“Yunjin, this is stupid. I’ve only had this downloaded for a day and I already feel sick.” You groan, throwing your phone down in the space between you. Though, maybe you should’ve thought twice about that when Yunjin decides to grab so she can have a go herself – swiping left and left and left and… oh?

“What about him?” You curl into her side, peering over your phone.

Oh, he’s pretty cute. Lee Felix?

“He added dog lover. You love dogs and… music?” She goes over his interests quickly, eyes scanning his profile like a pro. You suppose it’s because she’s used to it, quick to read a guy’s intentions just by their Tinder profile.

“I like assembling computers. Oh, this guy’s a dork, you’d love him.”

Right.

It’s a match!

“Yunjin!” You shift in your seat, immediately grabbing your phone from her grip before she can do any further damage. Sure, you had humored yourself into downloading the app for Yunjin but you never thought of actually swiping right for anyone.

“What? He’s cute, and you matched!” She giggles, trying to grab your phone back so she can craft you the perfect first message.

She knows you won’t do it yourself.

You lock your phone before she has a chance to do anything stupid, shaking your head in reprimand. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not happening.”

She simply smiles at you, shrugging her shoulders and calling it a day for her trial in meddling with your love life. “Well, I tried. Alright, I have to go. I’ll be back late, you sure you don’t wanna come with?”

You return the smile, shaking your head as you drop yourself to lay down on the entirety of the couch once your roommate gets up. “I think my computer parts are coming in today so I have to be here to sign off the delivery.”

“Nerd.” She snorts, waving you goodbye and locking the door behind her. It’s your cue to grab your laptop and continue binging that new drama that had just been released.

This is your ordinary Friday night, curled up on the sofa with your most comfortable blanket and your laptop on your lap. Despite the desire to socialize sometimes, you think nothing else really goes above wearing your favorite PJs and eating snacks without guilt as the opening song of your new drama plays.

Though, you only get to finish one episode when your doorbell rings, and you waltz yourself to your front door to happily accept the package sent by your parents. They had won it as one of the raffle prizes in a foreign business trip, and since your parents had no use for a computer, they decided to ship it off to you. “Could help with college,” is what your dad says.

It’s only when multiple boxes come rolling in when you realize one small problem. You don’t know how to fucking assemble a computer, and you doubt Yunjin would know how either.

“That’s it. If you could please sign here, here, and here.” The mailman still sounds enthusiastic despite having done hours of his shift already, and you comply immediately as to not add on to the downpour of stress that’s handed to them every single day.

When you shut your door, you quickly turn around to stare at the multitude of boxes on the ground. Maybe Beomgyu would know how? He looks like he’d know a thing or two about computers. So, you shoot him a text.

Turns out, he doesn’t know how. And he’s currently scamming Yeonjun out of a free dinner, and so even though he tells you he’ll try to be there, you know he probably won’t arrive (unless to laugh at your situation).

You think, maybe you can just go to the Computer Engineering department and ask someone to help you, but could you risk socializing with numerous college students face to face? Absolutely the fuck not.

You’ve just about given up when your head strikes an idea and your back immediately straightens in posture at the stupid thought. “Should I?”

You rush towards where you had left your phone, letting out a sigh as you stare at the one person on your Match list. Lee Felix who likes assembling computers.

Lovely fucking timing.

Fumbling with the device, you finally decide to shoot him a message. What are the odds of him responding, anyway?

You’re tempted to throw your phone while waiting for his response, though your plan goes down the drain in a second when he responds almost immediately.

yn (6:03pm): hello!

felix (6:04pm): hey! i didn’t think you would message first :))

yn (6:06pm): oh, i’m sorry i hope you don’t get my intentions wrong. it’s just that … my parents sent over some computer parts and i rly don’t know how to assemble a computer

yn (6:06pm): i know it’s kind of random, but could u possibly help me by any chance?

yn (6:07pm): i don’t rly know anyone who knows how to and you’re the only person that came to mind

You cringe at yourself for triple messaging, face visibly scrunching as you let out a pained noise. And then he replies, and your hand shoots to grab your phone and stare at his message.

“Yeah, why not?” is what he replies, followed by where he should meet you. Is it a good idea to invite a stranger to your dorm? Probably not, but you can’t possibly assemble your computer somewhere else and bring it back to your dorms. So, you tell him to meet you at a cafe nearby – to test out the waters and see if he isn’t some variant of a serial killer.

“Be there in 15,” is his next reply.

15 minutes?!

You look down at yourself in sudden panic, still clad in a big shirt and some shorts. How were you supposed to pick something decent to wear in 15 minutes without Yunjin? You suppose could facetime her but you know it takes her hours to even decide on what to wear for herself.

Bringing your feet towards your closet, you say a silent prayer and start picking out what to wear for yourself. While this wasn’t technically a date, Lee Felix from Tinder is still fucking cute and you would hate for him to think he got scammed into swiping right on you.

You double check yourself in the mirror, chewing at your lips thoughtfully before sighing out in approval. At least you looked as if you put some sort of effort into what you’re wearing. That should be good enough in itself.

The nerve of meeting an entirely new person begins to set in when you repeatedly dart your eyes from the coffee shop back to your phone to try and see if anyone who looked like Felix was in the coffee shop. It’s like watching a game of ping pong the way you repeatedly look back and forth. And when it seems that no one with long black hair is here yet, you take it upon yourself to take a seat by the window where he can find you easily.

The scraping of the chair catches your attention, and holy fuck. Lee Felix is not a catfish. He is way far from it, and you think you might’ve lucked out when he takes the seat in front of you.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t startle you.” Deep, thick accent. It feels like shots of espresso when he speaks and it physically manifests goosebumps from you. You shake your head, telling him you’re fine. “(Name), right?”

He smiles, and it feels like your whole world stops.

“Uh, yeah. You must be Felix?” The man in question nods his head, reaching out to shake your hand and the gesture has your cheeks flushing. It’s an act of basic human decency, but can you really be blamed for acting like a shy little school girl when someone as beautiful as Felix is sitting and talking to you.

The coffee shop is still bustling, and everyone around you converses as if the most beautiful man hadn’t just stepped foot into the coffee shop. The freckles sitting just below his eyes look like constellations, and his black hair is styled just messy enough to achieve the hot boy who doesn’t know he’s hot look.

“Do you want some coffee before I set your computer up?” You shake your head, suddenly feeling shy.

Instead, you tell him to get whatever he wants so you don’t feel guilty enough for taking time out of his evening just to assemble your computer. He accepts your promise in pretense, but he comes back with his order and a few pastries and it’s clear he’s already paid for it from the way he ignores any mention of how much it cost.

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.” There’s a crinkle just at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, sitting back down adjacent of you as he pushes the plate closer to you.

You look at the array of pastries, a little hesitant. “Please don’t feel shy. Here, let’s take one together.”

He grabs a cookie from the platter, and you shyly follow by grabbing a strawberry muffin.

“Mmm, strawberry muffin. Very good choice.” Felix comments, watching you closely as you take a bite out of the muffin. “Is it good?”

Your eyes widen in delight, nodding your head as you chew slowly. “So good.”

Your words come out as a mumble, and it triggers a sweet laugh out of Felix. You feel familiar, the way you smile with your eyes and close them shut to savor the taste.

“You’re cute.” He says unabashedly, as if his words won’t cause drastic consequences.

A chunk gets stuck on your throat.

Felix is quick to hand you a glass of water when you start choking, rushing to stand by your side. You would’ve hoped the first skinship for the evening would be handholding, and not repeated pats on your back to remedy your choking.

“Are you okay?” His hand is still on your back, gently running small circles as he leans down to check on you. You think you might start choking again if he keeps looking at you like that, 1080p view of his eyelashes and the specs splashing his irises.

“Mhm, sorry.” You put the glass down, refusing to meet his eyes as he remains hovering over you. You want to leave out of embarrassment. He notices your silence, notices the way you cross your arms in mock defense.

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re cute.” There’s a smirk on his face. You can tell without even looking up at him. “I’ll take these out.”

He says it so casually, as if he’s simply asking about your day. His outward flirty-ness is new, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“Ready to go?”

With the plastic bag in his hand and his order in a takeout cup, you sigh gratefully. “Yeah.”

The walk to your dorm is short, but it’s spent in conversation. Lee Felix is talkative, has lots of stories to offer. Whatever it takes to make you laugh.

You like that about him. You like that you don’t have to talk so much. He doesn’t even force a comment out of you. Just needs to know you’re listening.

So you do. You listen intently as he shares pieces of his life with you—his friends, his course, games he plays. He’s chatty, and the way he smiles with every word reminds you of a cat. Deep whiskers and crescent eyes.

“So, really, this is a great way to end the day, assembling a pretty girl’s computer.”

His mouth drops a little when he realizes he’d vocalized the latter part of his sentence, yet he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You are pretty, one of the prettiest he’s ever seen. And the blush on your face is well worth the slip of his tongue.

“As long as you’re sure this isn’t a hassle.” You mumble, looking down at your feet as you reach your building.

That you aren’t getting anything out of this.

Though, before you can step forward, you’re tugged back to where Felix is standing. He’s holding your hand now, grabbing your full attention. “I promise this isn’t a bother.”

The way he looks at you answers your silent question—he doesn’t mind that you’re simply asking for his help without any intention.

“I enjoy building computers, especially with good company. You don’t even have to do anything. Just sit there and be yourself.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He squeezes your hand for extra measure, allowing you to drag him to your dorm room.

True to his word, Felix doesn’t so much as let you lift a finger. You stay seated on the couch, watching as he sets to work on the floor. From time to time, he’d tell you what he’s doing. Something about screwing some parts in and a mother board? You don’t understand much, but you listen as much as you can.

“Tell me about yourself.” Felix looks up from his work, and your eyes widen a little at the boy’s sudden request.

You’re sure you’re simply imagining the gentle interest in his eyes. “Hm?” You ask him to repeat himself, even though you heard him loud and clear.

“I’ve been yapping about myself all night. I wanna know more about you.” He teases.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Soooo… do I start with the year I was born?” You laugh when he throws you a look, quick to throw your hands in the air in mock surrender. “Joking, joking.”

“You’re an interesting girl, (Name).” Felix grins, locking eyes with you for a second and a half before turning back to his work.

“There’s nothing much to me, really. I go to school and go home and that’s about it. I just try and survive college the best I can.”

He shoots you a disapproving look. “Well, I beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?” You bring your legs up on the couch, sitting cross-legged as you wait for what he had to say.

“For one, your eyes lit up when I talked about Chan’s Pokemon collection, or how Seungmin is obsessed with Kdramas.” He points out, reaching for his takeout drink and taking a few large gulps. “And you smiled when I mentioned the little chicken plush I own.”

You don’t expect Felix to notice any of this, and the thought that he did has a blush fighting to creep up your face.

You grab a throw pillow to hide behind.

“Oh, and you like strawberry muffins. So, I’d say there’s a lot to you. And I’m hoping to learn everything more.”

You have to force your eyes to look away from him in fear that your flustered cheeks would appear too obvious to the boy. Though, if he’d noticed the mere brightening of your eyes, you’re sure he’s already caught on to the silly schoolgirl smile on your lips.

“Stop looking at me.” You mumble, burying your face in your pillow. All you can hear is his sweet laughter.

“Come here, I’m just about done.”

You clap your hands in small when he turns on your computer, fully functioning and fully assembled. It surprises you how a task that would’ve taken you 6 hours is done in under 2 by Felix. Even more that it didn’t even feel like two hours.

You suppose that’s just the thing with Felix. He makes it so that time disappears with the whole night sky in his eyes—the moon for eyes and stars littering his face.

“Thank you, Felix. Like really.” He dismisses you, telling you it was nothing. The satisfaction on your face is enough compensation for his work.

There’s a few do’s and don’t’s that he mentions, and you try to list them down the best you can.

“Or, I can just text it to you?”

You pause mid-writing, looking up at him. “Sure, that’s… that’s fine with me.”

You’re unsure of how to say goodbye to him after giving him your number, unsure even of how you can make it up to him for the 3 hours you’d taken away from him. If it were anyone else, you would’ve said it in ease, so you don’t know why you can’t do the same for Felix.

It’s different with him because you don’t want to say goodbye. You could go hours longer listening to him and watching him assemble your computer. Though, before you can contemplate to do anything, Felix interrupts your inner monologue.

“Actually, I have an idea on how you can make it up to me.”

You look up at him expectantly, and you see the hint of a smirk tracing on his features.

“Let me take you out on a date. A real one.”

“A date?” You stutter.

“I know you said you texted me just because I could fix up computers, but I really enjoyed talking to you today.” He’s holding back a smile. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” His eyes light up, glazed with happiness as he processes your response.

“Okay? As in, I can take you out on a real date?”

“Yes.”

Felix can feel something sweet in his heart, can feel it flutter like it’s being squeezed. To his surprise, you’d actually agreed, and the genuine excitement in his smile is too wholesome to not stare at.

“So… goodnight then?”

“Goodnight.”

“I’ll text you?”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Felix fixes you with a look one last time, almost romantic with the soft glaze in his eyes. And then he’s stumbling out into your hallway.

With a second glance, he turns his back away from you and walks away. You can’t help but still feel the warmth of his smile.

You feel a compelling force telling you you’ll see much more of Lee Felix in the near future.

So freaking cute!!!

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞・l.f.

— felix misses you a little extra tonight; good thing you're way ahead of him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.7k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!felix x gn!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・brief mentions of the ocean, drowning imagery 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, angst, established relationship, pining, hurt/comfort, lots of (happy) tears

𝐚/𝐧・i had exo's "been through" on repeat while writing this; pls give it a listen it's beautiful and so underrated and captures the fic perfectly. enjoy <3

When Felix steps into Tokyo's night air, he can still hear the remnants of tonight's concert in the distance, the occasional car horn and the low thrum of conversation floating over the dome of the stadium. But for the most part, it is quiet, and Felix is finally able to think.

He thinks about how he's happiest after performances: leftover adrenaline warming his skin, strobe lights still dancing across his vision, heartbeat still drumming against his ribs like the heavy bass that shook the stage prior. He thinks about how much he loves leaving each venue knowing that, even if only for a few hours, he owned the place; set it utterly ablaze.

But he mostly thinks about you.

From the moment Felix started loving you, his happiness became yours. A bite of brownie fresh out of the oven, met with widened eyes and a delighted mmm; every funny story relayed to you later that night (poorly, because he keeps interrupting himself to laugh); photographs, so many photographs—an especially rotund pigeon he spots on the way to practice, a new pair of earrings that’s way too expensive but looks way too good on him, cute texts from his mom—inevitably making their way into your camera roll.

He can’t help it. He only wants to experience the best parts of the world with you by his side.

So it is in his happiest moments that he feels your absence the strongest. And now, Felix so badly wishes you were here that he physically aches. It feels a bit like his heart is being swallowed by seawater, nothing in any direction for miles, nowhere to go but down.

Only when Chan materializes next to him does Felix manage to steady his feet on the cement once again.

“It’s not here yet?” Chan surveys the lot for their tour bus, to no avail. “Good thing, I guess. Everyone's taking their sweet time.”

The older boy gives Felix a glance thoughtlessly, looks away, and then looks back, his gaze lingering on the side of his face for longer this time, and Felix knows that Chan knows exactly what’s going through his head. For a second, Chan seems like he wants to say something, but Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, takes out his phone.

Not now.

“I think I left something inside,” Chan says instead, though he never leaves anything anywhere. Felix manages an appreciative smile. Without another word, Chan claps a hand to Felix’s shoulder and disappears back into the building, as quickly as he came.

A few seconds pass. Then, as naturally as if by muscle memory, Felix taps on your contact and holds his phone to his ear.

It rings once, twice, thrice—and then he hears your voice, but not in the way he yearns for.

“Hi, you’ve reached Y/N! I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I'll get back—”

He ends the call, his brow furrowed. You knew he had a concert today. And you should've known to anticipate the call that would come right after, as faithfully as the sun’s rise and fall.

He calls a second time, hoping this was an obstruction of ‘do not disturb’ and nothing more, but is met with the voice message again.

The call of the ocean's depths becomes louder.

As he sits through the automated response, Felix leans against the wall behind him and tilts his head back against the plaster, his gaze moving over the night sky. Then, he hears the beep, and starts to speak.

“Hi, my love. I called, and you didn’t pick up, and I got worried. Is everything alright? Maybe you’re busy, or asleep? Remember to take care of yourself first and foremost—everything else pales in comparison. Everything."

His voice feels far steadier than he feels.

“Ah, I miss you, darling. The concert went super well; the energy was unreal. We have a few hours to explore Tokyo tomorrow before heading to our next stop, and I’m excited as hell, but I wish you could be here more than anything in the world. I haven’t stopped thinking about how much you’ve always wanted to visit this city since we got here—Seungmin even said he'd save his visit to the Pokemon Center for whenever we come back with you. All of us are thinking of you, babe. Me especially. Me hopelessly.

"One day, you and I are gonna travel the world together, responsibilities and schedules be damned, and we'll spend as long as you want wherever you want. As long as I can be next to you. God, I fucking miss you. I said that already, right?”

A short distance away, the building door opens again, and Felix quickly ducks his head out of view, suddenly conscious of his watery eyes and blurring vision.

“I gotta go. I think the members are ready to go back to the hotel. Call me back when you get a chance, okay?”

The next words catch in Felix’s throat, and he has to wince and take a long, shaky breath in order to get them out.

“I love you to the ends of the universe, angel. Share some of your light with the moon tonight, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the receiver. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Bye.”

With that, Felix hangs up, drops his phone into his pocket, and presses both sleeves tightly against his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

No, he thinks, shoulders quivering with the effort, it really never gets easier.

It takes a while for it to strike Felix as odd that it’s still quiet outside; he could’ve sworn that he heard the door open and close, that he should be hearing the tired chatter of his members by now. Apprehensively (obliviously), Felix lifts his face from his hands and turns around.

Chan, so solemn and quiet before, now wears a Cheshire grin that instantly devolves into a breathy laugh when he meets Felix’s eye. Hyunjin stands behind Chan, holding his phone up, evidently filming. Felix’s lips part in confusion, a question forming on the tip of his tongue. There are enough videos of me crying my eyes out on the internet, no?

But then his eyes fall on the person standing in between the two men, their arms piled so high with flower bouquets that their face is almost concealed entirely, and he forgets what he wanted to say; he forgets every language he knows.

“So we were contacted by a fan the other day,” Hyunjin says, beaming. “Kept calling you their boyfriend. Forced us to fly them out to Japan and everything.”

“It'd be real bad if we got the wrong person,” Chan adds, and a stifled laugh comes from behind the petals—one that Felix would recognize in every corner of the world, in every lifetime. “They look familiar?”

The bouquets part, and behind them you appear, cheeks visibly flushed even under the lot’s singular streetlight, smile so bright that it’s turned your eyes to crescent moons.

"Surprise," you say softly.

The empty lot finally erupts into laughter, Chan and Hyunjin no longer able to restrain themselves. Can't believe we pulled this off, they're saying to each other triumphantly, but everyone, everything around Felix vanishes save for the person he adores most in the world, holding more flowers than they should be able to carry, looking at him as if he's made of pure starlight.

And Felix's heart starts kicking upwards, towards the rays of moonlight filtering through the murky water, as fervently as if his life depends on it—and, in this moment, it does.

“Hand 'em over, fool,” Chan says to you. And as you start transferring the heaps of flowers into the leader’s arms, Felix has never moved faster in his life.

In the span of a few seconds, his hand finds the small of your back, and yours the nape of his neck. “Holy fuck,” Felix whispers, and then he’s pulling you against his chest tightly, desperately. There is no word that can describe the way you melt into one another except for destiny, one of your hands curling in his hair and the other running over his shoulder; his face burrowing in the crook of your neck, fingers lacing together against your spine.

His pulse is so loud that he hears it in all directions, in all parts of him. Felix squeezes his eyes shut against the material of your crewneck, his whole body shaking with silent sobs as the overwhelming array of emotions he'd harbored prior finally spills over. And he stops thinking entirely, simply loses himself in all that you are: the smell of your laundry detergent, the sound of your laugh, the feel of your embrace, so secure and warm as if promising him you’ll never let go.

“I love you, Lee Yongbok,” you murmur, the words only for the two of you to hear.

With the sound of his full name, Felix's heart breaks through the ocean's surface at last. Not only that; it performs a triple axel on the shoreline, and it sure as hell doesn’t stick the landing, slipping and sliding and fighting to regain its balance as you continue on.

“Forget the ends of the universe. You are the universe. You are everything that has ever existed and everything that ever will. And I couldn’t bear to be away from my galaxy for a second longer.”

Felix shakes his head from where it remains buried against you, his voice a broken rasp when he answers, “I’m not whole without you, angel. I never will be again.”

“I'm here, baby,” you reply, your hands tightening around his hoodie, among his long locks. “Whether I'm right next to you or on the other side of the world, I'm always with you. And I will be tomorrow, and the day after, and eons from now. That—”

Your lips find the shell of his ear, then his temple.

“—is a promise, my sunlight.”

Chan is standing with bundles of flowers still piled high in his arms, silent tears streaming down his face, and Hyunjin’s expression is contorted into a terribly suppressed weep, his still-recording phone long forgotten in his pocket. They don't have it in them to tell you to get a room. Not right now.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

Beach Day (HangmanxF!Reader)

Summary: F!reader’s asthma is flaring up at the beach and Jake is being a worried mother-hen.

A/N: I was working on this before I received the prompt: Hangman takes care of the person of your choice.  But this fits that prompt perfectly!  Let me know if I should also post this on Ao3!

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,254

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waitttt aerial writing poly!marauders?? omg. how about them looking after sick or injured reader I feel like that could be so cute!!!! they’re all worrywart bfs tbh

emergency contact

summary james gets called when you faint at work. and then sirius. then remus. you feel awful

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note this was combined with another request. I accidentally deleted it I'm super sorry but it was a request for poly x fem!reader where the boys come to your work after fainting!

You feel really embarrassed sitting at the end of the bar, ice pack held to your head, mouth wrapped around the straw in your drink.

Your embarrassment turns to worry when you see James walking across the room. He’s rushing, hair a mess, mud tracked up his calves. He’s still in his rugby kit.

You turn your head to look at your colleague. “Ash, you told me you wouldn’t call anyone!” You’re not really upset, you feel like a bit of a nuisance.

“It’s procedure, Y/N. I’m sorry.” She doesn’t sound very sorry. You don’t blame her.

“Sweetheart,” he says when he reaches you. He’s frantic, soft about it, but still upset. “Are you okay? They told me you fainted.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say instead of a hello. You feel entirely stupid.

“What?” He grasps your shoulder and squeezes hard. “What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I feel bad,” you say quietly, voice a little thick. You screw your face up and your head tinges. A dull pain that radiates down into the back of your skull.

“Please, don’t.” He says. Firm with a hint of worry he’s trying to mask. If James cries you think you might too, and you really wouldn’t put it past him.

You drop the pack to the bar and take his hand, fingers damp with condensation that transfers to his palm. “I’m fine. Promise.”

“You bumped your head?” He uses his free hand to hold your face, careful where he has his fingers. His eyes track over your face to search for any harm. You’re blood-free, luckily, though there’s a red mark blooming up and into your hairline. Most likely to bruise.

“Yeah.” Your eyes flutter closed because you can’t help it.

“You’re not feeling drowsy?” comes James’s voice.

“No, feels nice,” you chuckle, a tiny huff of air. “Your hands are warm.”

You don’t expect it, but suddenly, you’re hearing Sirius’s worried voice come from the other side of the room. You crane your head around James' broad shoulders to see him, haloed by the light coming through the front door.

“Why is he here?” you mumble, feeling worse by the second. It comes out worse than it sounded in your head.

Apparently, he hears you. “He is here because James had to call him.” He hugs you almost immediately. Big, warm hands come around to cage you in against his chest. You hide the good side of your face into his neck and huff. “Do you not want me here?”

You pull back quickly and really regret it. Blinking back the hot, pinching pain in your face. “What? No, I’m just…ugh.”

Sirius pouts, then hums a sympathetic noise from the back of his throat. He keeps his hands on your shoulders. “It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry about it, yeah?”

You close your eyes and incline your head to lean it down on his ringed-up hand. Your cheek all smooshed up against him.

“Is she okay?” You hear him ask James. He hums a yes. “She’s not concussed?”

“She doesn’t think so,” he says.

“She is right here,” you mumble. You pull back from his chest and swing your legs over the chair.

"I'm sorry, lovely." He looks like he wants to hug you again. "You're okay? Had some water?"

You nod. "Just really wanna go home."

"All right, let's go, yeah?" James takes your elbow to help you off the stool, and Sirius steadies you by the shoulder. It's kind of adorable how gentle they're being with you. Soft hands and pinched brows. They both make a funny sound when you wobble a little.

James grabs your bag and throws it over his shoulder and you all leave.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," you say before you get to the door. "Were you at work? You won't get in trouble for leaving, will you?"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry about that." He smiles.

You will. You'll no doubt feel bad for the rest of the week.

You bump into Remus on your way out. He holds the door open for you. He looks like he's run up the block. "Rem, baby, they didn't call you too?" You're not sure why you hadn't expected it. If he wasn't here, he'd definitely feel horrible.

"Dove, you're okay?" he pants. He holds your face in his hands and you try not to cry. You're not sure if having them all here makes you feel better or worse. "God, I was so worried."

The first tear leaves a hot track down your cheek. You push yourself into Remus's chest instead of answering and wrap your hands around his waist. He crosses his arms over your back.

He moves you out of the way of the entrance and you scuffle along with him. Your tears are slow, dampening his shirt, catching the brunt of your upset. You don't make any horrible sounds, just quiet, sticky tears.

He encourages your face back with a firm, pinching hand. You blink back the end of your cries. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare everyone."

"Don't worry," he says, corners of his mouth trembling into a sad smile. "It's all good. As long as you're okay."

"I just," you take a stuttering breath, "just got really tired. I probably shouldn't have worked today."

Sirius kisses the end of your eyebrow, right across your temple. "You've been working a bit too much, I think."

"I didn't ruin anyone's day?" You sniffle way too sadly for anyone's opinion. Remus squeezes you closer with almost bruising fingertips.

"No, lovely," James says, sticky smile gracing his lips. "Don't worry about it, okay? We just wanted to be here for you. That's our job."

"Right," you say, voice catching at the end.

Sirius shucks your jacket on for you as the wind outside picks up. "Speaking of being here for you," he says. "Is James your emergency contact?"

"No, you all are," you tell him, a hint of laughter in your words.

"Right."

Then, you start actually laughing. "Was he the only one to pick up?"

"I think so," he joins in.

"What if it was serious?" Suddenly, you're teasing.

"It was serious!" Remus balks.

"You didn't answer the phone!"

Everyone goes quiet. You burst out into the biggest fit of giggles, smiling so widely it hurts. "I'm kidding!" you say, struggling to speak. "God, stop. Look at your faces! Stop - stop it, my head hurts."

James cages you in against his chest, stealing you from Remus. "My poor baby," he coos. "Oh, they're awful, awful boyfriends."

"Fuck off," Sirius grumbles. "Just cause you're always on your phone."

"Don't listen to them, honey." He's awful. "You comin' in my car?"

"If you stop being mean, then yeah."

"Yeah, you fuckin' tell him, Y/N." Comes Remus's grumpy voice.

Piggyback | R.L.

Remus gets jealous after you spend an afternoon with James, but you sweetly assure him he has nothing to be worried about — remus x fem!reader fluff with a hint of angst

warnings: jealousy/insecurity, some foul language

words: 1k

You held on tight from behind him, arms wrapped around the broad shoulders of James Potter. He held your thighs steady as you dashed through the halls of Hogwarts. 

He laughed when you let out a squeal every time he turned a corner, fearing he would lose control and run into a wall — even though you know he would never do that. He has too much Quidditch experience and he knew his best mate, your boyfriend, Remus Lupin would kill him if he ever hurt you. 

Speak of the devil, James turned one more corner into the library hallway and you saw Remus' familiar silhouette at the end of the hall walking away. James didn't seem to notice him and was about to run another direction, but you moved your hand onto his arm to direct him one way. 

"Jamie, wait, Remus is over there! Run down the library hall." You told him. 

"Alright, let's go see your Moony." He replied, obeying your instructions and heading towards Remus. 

Once you got closer, you called out Remus' name, which caught his attention. He turned around and looked slightly shocked at the sight of you on James' back, both of you running at him. James came to a jagged halt when you reached Remus, causing you to let out a giggle. 

"Let me down please, Jamie." You asked of the boy carrying you. He once again obliged, bending down and letting you get off his back. You thanked him softly and turned to Remus. 

"Hi, Remmy." You said, pulling him down by his tie so you could kiss him. You did so, a sweet kiss on the lips, which James looked away for. 

"Hi, love." Remus greeted you back. "What were you just doing?" 

"Oh, Jamie was just giving me a piggyback ride around the school while you were busy in the library. But, now you're out, I guess, so here we are." 

"Yup, here we are." James said with a shrug. "So, I guess I'll be on my way, probably to go find my lily flower. I'll see you two later." 

And with that, he started to walk away, heading towards the library to check for Lily there first. 

"Bye, Jamie! Thanks for the ride!" You said just before he left, and he did a little salute in return, then kept walking.

You turned back to Remus, hoping to spend time with your boyfriend after he'd been in the library all day working. 

"So, you and 'Jamie'? Where did that little nickname come from?" He asked before you could say anything. 

"Oh, I just sometimes feel like I'm imposing on your friend group when I call you by your Marauders nicknames, so I'm just trying out some other ones." You told him with a smile. "What do you think of it?" 

"It's cute." He said curtly. 

You could tell at this point that something was bothering, and you knew Remus well enough to know that he wouldn't just tell you unprompted. 

"Then what's wrong?" You asked, looking up at him. 

"What? Nothing's wrong." He answered, though you knew it was a lie. "Let's just go back to the common room."

"Well, clearly something is wrong, and I don't want to go until we figure it out." 

"How could anything be wrong? I just finally finished my essays and you had a great afternoon with Jamie." 

The way he sneered at the nickname you gave his best mate is what made you realise what was upsetting him. 

"You're jealous." You stated, fighting back a grin because of your realisation. 

"What? No, why would I be jealous? No, let's just go." Remus said with a scoff. Taking her soft hand in his, Remus started to walk away with you, now completely silent. 

"You know, I know you're not jealous." You started curiously. "I know it's impossible. But, hypothetically, if you were jealous, I would say that it's okay. Even though I was just being friendly with James, it's a totally normal emotion, especially in a young relationship, and I would really be proud of you for sharing your feelings." 

You paused for a moment, then looked up at him to admit the next part. "I might even find it a little cute, if we're both being honest here." 

He looked down at you, still walking down the corridor alongside you. "You would?"

"I would." 

"Well, it's too bad that I'm not jealous." He added with a sly smirk. 

He knows what he's doing. Annoying, adorable, stubborn arsehole.  

"You know, I bet Jamie gets jealous sometimes." You told him, trying to break Remus into admitting it finally. "I'll go hang out with him for the evening, and I'll ask him." 

Obviously teasing him now, you let go of his hand and started to walk in the direction James went in a minute ago. You only made it about a step and a half before he took hold of your wrist, gently stopping you. 

"Or," Remus started, his mood clearly changed from before. "I could admit that I might have been jealous for a minute, then I could give you a piggyback ride to Gryffindor tower, and we could hang out, just us, in my dorm."

"I'd like that very much, Remmy." 

"Then, hop on, love." He bent down so you could climb onto his back, then stood up to his full height once you were settled. 

"See? You're even taller than James, so the view from up here is much better. I love it."

You could tell even that simple bit of flattery had brightened his mood even more, though he was trying not to let it show. "So, are you ready to go now?"

You leaned your head down slightly so you could give him a sweet peck on the cheek. "To your dorm, Remmy!”

James Potter // I Love You

summary: The three times James Potter tells you he loves you, and the one time you say it back. TW: mentions of fighting, James being James and not taking no for an answer (not completely creepy though), and alcohol consumption note: I love this man, and this aesthetic

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48. Kisses to shut them up w jake thank u ily 🫶🥹

I hope you love this! My first time writing for Jake 🥰

For the first time in your four months with Jake, you weren’t quite sure how to act. In a week’s time, he was going to be deployed for three months, almost as long as you had been together, and you didn’t know where you stood.

You had only told each other that you loved each other a month ago, and you believed it with everything you were, but there was a tiny part of you that was terrified that he was going to decide that what you had wasn’t worth holding onto while he was away.

When Jake emerged from his bathroom in his pyjamas, you were sitting cross-legged on his bed. He joined you and cleared his throat.

“We should talk about next week.”

Your heart sank; your worst fear was coming true.

“I don’t want to break up,” you blurted out.

Jake stared at you in confusion.

“What?”

You shifted so that you were facing him, taking a breath to steady yourself.

“I know we haven’t been together long but I really do love you, Jake, and I think we can get through you being deployed. We can talk on the phone, or I can write letters if that’s what everyone else’s partners do. And people send care packages, right? I can- mmph!”

His lips on yours stopped you mid-sentence and your hands shot out to stop yourself falling backwards on the bed. When he pulled away, his grin was the first thing you saw, and it was your turn to stare at him in confusion. Chuckling, he pinched your cheek gently.

“If you’d let me get a word in edgeways, darlin’, I was gonna suggest that you move in here while I’m deployed,” he told you, “It doesn’t make much sense you being in your tiny apartment while this place is sitting empty…and I’d really like it if you were here when I come home.”

Your lips parted in shock; that didn’t sound like a breakup. His soft smile widened into his signature grin again.

“But please, tell me more about these care packages you’re gonna send me. I’m thinking candy bars, maybe some sexy Polaroids-”

His grin barely faded as you cut him off with a kiss, his hands immediately finding your thighs to pull you onto his lap. He chased your lips with his own when you pulled away and you giggled, nuzzling you’re nose against his as you draped your arms around his shoulders.

“You really want me to move in?” you asked quietly, resting your forehead against his.

He smiled, nodding and kissing you sweetly.

“I really do. I love you, sweetheart.”’

-

-

-

what if it was just a thursday?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1059

The plates are in the dishwasher, the oven is cooling down, and a fire is crackling away in the fireplace, radiating heat throughout the house. Your bare feet sink into the plush Oushak rug, and you relish the soft feeling of it. There are two mugs on the coffee table; your favourite and Hotch's favourite. Yours is a vintage one, something from the 70s with an orange floral pattern, kitsch but cute. Aaron's is utilitarian, a handmade brown mug with a little bit of texture. You vaguely remembered buying it at a farmer's market a few years ago, with a matching ashtray and spice canister.

You'd spent the afternoon gardening: sowing some poppy seeds along the treeline, planting broccoli and potatoes in the hopes that you could harvest them in the spring. Asparagus was Aaron's favourite, but someone at the plant barn had told you it might take two or three years to mature. You were sure that you'd forget about it if it was in the ground for that long.

"What's on your mind?" Aaron said softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Asparagus," You said dreamily. "I was thinking of growing some, but it takes forever."

"How was your day?" He asked. "Aside from the gardening."

"It was okay. I wish the weather was nicer," You sighed. "But no complaints. Things aren't too busy at work, which is good."

You reach slightly to intertwine your fingers with his, resting your hands over your shoulder. A contented smile comes over your face and you close your eyes to soak in the moment.

"How was yours?" You look over at him, and his heart sinks. There's an innocence in your eyes that's long since left his own. It's one of the things he loves about you, but it's something he's terrified might disappear.

"Do you really want to know?"

You nod. "I can take it."

He rests the side of his head against your own.

"JJ has been swamped, so we all pitched in for a few hours to sort through the cases. There were something like two hundred cases that have come over her desk in the past week-" Hotch pauses to sigh, running his fingers over his eyebrows.

"Whatever the Bureau is paying her, it's not enough. A lot of the time they'll include details, autopsy reports, photos. I can't imagine how much of it gets stuck in her head. So many of them are kids, or wives, or someone's father, someone's best friend."

"I'm sorry," You said quietly. "That's really hard."

You feel him shrug, rather than seeing it.

"Makes me really appreciate coming home to you," He murmured. "Makes me wish I could sit here and tell you about selling insurance."

You huff a laugh, and lean further into him. "I love you as you are."

"Yeah," He breathes. "I love you too. I wish it could just be a Thursday. No blood and guts, just a Thursday."

There's a comfortable silence for a few moments, both of you staring at the fireplace, the spontaneous patterns of the flames, occasional puffs of smoke.

You swing a leg over his lap, facing him, and tuck your head into his neck, breathing in the smell of his aftershave. He rests one large hand in the back pocket of your jeans, and wraps his other arm around your back, his hand landing between your shoulderblades, stroking back and forth. Even exhausted, he's protective

"Might fall asleep," He whispers.

"Me too," You reply, your warm exhale momentarily lifting the collar of his t-shirt.

"So warm," he mumbles. "I love you."

"We could get a dog," You say quietly. "People who celebrate Thursdays tend to have dogs."

"You think so?"

You press a chaste kiss to his neck. "Yeah."

"How about we start with a cat?"

"Really?" Your voice picks up slightly, and you raise your head to look at Aaron. He smoothes a hand over the back of your head, gently encouraging your face back into the crook of his neck.

"We could go to the shelter this weekend."

You flip through your mental rolodex of the different types of cat, picturing each one in the space you shared with your partner.

Maybe an older cat, already house trained, who liked a quieter house. Someone to keep you company while Aaron was away.

____

Sure enough, you and Aaron fell asleep on the couch, Aaron waking up a few hours later and walking you to bed. The fire had burnt itself out, and the tea had gone cold, but you could leave it until morning.

The weekend rolled around and you walked hand in hand through the animal shelter.

"This one's named Home Depot," He pointed out, a small smile on his face. "Do we want a lady cat or a gentleman cat?"

"I don't mind," You mused, peeking into each enclosure.

"Aaron," You said slowly, pulling gently at his elbow. "This one's named Jude, like Hey Jude."

"Jude's been here a while, since she's one of our older cats. She's a sweetheart," The volunteer offered.

"How old is she?"

"She's seven."

"Can I pick her up?"

The volunteer nodded enthusiastically. "She loves cuddles."

You picked up the cat, happy to find that she seemed to be in good health. A nice weight, plenty of fluff, good teeth.

"Does she have any health conditions?" You asked.

The volunteer shook their head. "Not that we know of. As she gets older, she might get a bit stiff in her joints, but for now she seems well."

"Hi sweetheart," Aaron said softly, thumbing the scruff under her chin. "Do you like the look of us?"

She keened, pressing her head up into his hands to meet his touch.

"She's just like me," You smiled.

"Yeah?" Aaron said, smiling at you. You knew what he was asking, and you nodded.

Aaron looked over at the volunteer. "Can we bring her home?"

They smiled. "Absolutely. You'll just need to sign a few things, pay the adoption fee. Then we can give you a bag of food, her bed, her collar... I think that's it. Oh! We could send you home with a toy, if you like, but she hasn't been super playful while she's been here."

"Thank you," You said tenderly. "So much. For keeping her safe until we could meet her."

Teddy

summary - All the people he cares about call him by a nickname, so he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that you won’t. Especially because it’s so obvious that you have one.

It takes a night out celebrating your friend’s graduation, lots of alcohol, and Bradley’s eyes looking into yours as he gently takes your makeup off for you to finally reveal your nickname to him.

or

How Bradley got his name.

warnings - age gap relationship (Bradley is 38, reader is 25), language, mentions of drinking, brief mention of painkillers

word count - 1.4k

I’m back at it again with the Bradley = bear agenda (and my emotional support stuffed animal agenda) - bugs

i ain’t worried ‘bout it

Keep reading

Hi Jade! Could I request a cute, fluffy Jungkook drabble where his girlfriend meets Bam for the first time and they instantly become besties?

sure thing, sweet bean!

i saw this pic while i was looking through pinterest for possible banners and it sent me, then it inspired this nonsense 🤪

The first few weeks of dating anyone new are a certifiable mindfuck. Underneath the warm wave of infatuation, there’s a maelstrom brewing; and if you’re too short-sighted, you might drown.

To keep afloat, you spend more time than ever preening — making damn sure that your appearance and personality are at their most palatable. You wear carefully coordinated underwear; you wash your hair on a regular schedule for once; and you try to keep that persistently doubtful inner monologue of yours locked in the vault at the back of your brain.

Meanwhile, outside of presenting yourself as the prettiest of all packages, you have to — somehow — keep an eye out for the other person’s red flags. Sure, you’re a firework whenever their texts light up your inbox, but are they good for your mental health? What if you take off the rose-colored glasses and find that your little love boat is actually trash barge; and — surprise! — that trash barge has been on fire this entire time, with you none the wiser?

If you successfully cross that minefield and survive long enough meet who you’re really dealing with, the introductions don’t stop there. They meet your friends, you meet theirs. Then come parents, then the hidden flaws that are no longer waiting in the wings, then the final arbiter.

If their pet doesn’t like your vibe? Game over.

It’s with a weak jolt of panic that you stand on Jungkook’s doorstep, poised to knock. Before your knuckles can hit the wood, you hear a muffled call from inside: “It’s open!”

Odd.

You inhale as you turn the knob and push it open — and the second you lay eyes on him, it leaves you in a wheezing, entirely and embarrassingly authentic laugh. The very laugh you’ve nearly fainted trying to suppress, which prompts you to immediately slap your hand over your mouth.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor is the bad boy your friends all warned you about — donning a face mask that looks like marshmallow fluff against his tan skin — with a dog wiggling excitedly in front of him, and a toothbrush in hand. Both of them look up at you like everything’s normal, and you swear they’re both smiling.

“Hi,” Jungkook chirps, grinning carefully so as to not disturb his mask. He speaks at his usual quick pace like his body contains more energy than he knows what to do with, “I’m almost done with his teeth. Are you hungry?”

You blink, absolutely dumbfounded, and then you ask, “Did — did you forget I was coming over?”

Jungkook furrows his brows— which are, for the record, hidden under bright, white clay — and now you feel like an absolute asshole for making assumptions. If the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t be caught dead in this state. Not this early into the relationship, when he might not be invested enough in you to see past it.

Yet here he was with all his cards on the table, leaving it up to you to take them or leave them.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve actually been looking forward to this all day,” he admits with a sheepish smile, suddenly shy. Then, Jungkook glances down at the dog, whose wiggling only intensifies as you toe off your shoes and begin your approach. “So has Bam.”

You join them both on the floor, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. With your weight propped up on one arm, you tilt your head and muse, “He’s really well trained. Normally, dogs are all over you the second you walk in a room, you know?”

You really should’ve known better than to bait Jungkook like that. There’s barely time to process the look he exchanges with Bam — as if they’re plotting telepathically — because there’s a quick nod in your direction, and then there’s a doberman bowling you over onto your back.

It’s impossible to tell who’s laughing louder: Jungkook, whose watering eyes might leave streaks in his face mask; or you, hugging forty kilograms of unadulterated bliss. One thing is clear: Jungkook is over the moon. So much so that he coos, “Aww, look who made a friend!”

You’re not sure if he’s referring to Bam or to you.

“Best friend, obviously,” You peep, “No one has ever been this excited to see me before in my life.” You have to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid the tongue lapping lovingly over your cheeks. Turning your head abruptly to the side, you snort, “God, he even kisses like you!”

“I sure as fuck do not kiss you like that,” Jungkook huffs with a pout you just barely catch a glimpse of. He’s up on his knees in a heartbeat, carefully removing Bam from you just to take his place. He narrows his eyes playfully as he settles with one hand on either side of your face; and the wicked glint in them isn’t lost on you. “One of us bites, doll. The other one was trained not to.”

You flex an eyebrow and it’s more of a dare than a reaction, “Is that so?”

Jungkook tucks a renegade strand of hair behind your ear. “Definitely,” he hums as he does the same to the other side. “Pretty thing. Know what you’re missing, though?”

You’re scared to ask, so you let your widening eyes do the talking.

“Bit of skincare!” He declares with a wolfish grin.

Within a split second, Jungkook cups your face in his hands and you realize exactly why he bothered to push your hair out of your face. His is pressed to yours as he kisses you deep, right through your startled gasp. Jungkook makes sure to smear the goop from his chin and cheeks onto yours in the process. You can feel his smile as he does.

There’s a teasing nip at your bottom lip when he eventually pulls back, gently tugging what he’s captured with him for a millimeter or two before releasing you. Gazing down at his messy masterpiece, his brows crinkle under the weight of his thoughts. Wordlessly, he drops one hand from your jaw; drags the pad of his thumb down his nose; then swipes the excess along the bridge of yours. He taps the button of your nose gently, looking pleased as fucking punch.

Now, it would seem that you’ve rocketed straight through the awkward, not-quite-yourself phase of dating and ended up crash-landing on the other side.

“That better?” You pant, knowing full well that it really, really is.

Jungkook leans down again to kiss you much more sweetly than before. With his lips still pressed to yours, he smirks, “Much.”

Then, he drops onto the rug next to so you can sit upright again. “And I think you’ve been greenlit, but I won’t presume to speak on Bam’s behalf.”

You both turn to Bam — the final boss — for his verdict. When he lets out a quick boof, it sounds like a sneeze, but it says everything you need to know.

Serious Questions

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: Bucky agrees to go on a date to make his colleagues shut up. Now, he just feels sorry for the poor woman that has to spend an entire evening with him. He really tries to make it work, though, because he actually enjoys her company.

a/n: This was a request by the lovely @alana-32. Hopefully, it meets your expectations 💙 I haven’t written pure fluff in a hot minute but this was fun!

word count: 2.9k

warnings: nervous and wholesome Bucky, super fluffy, just a really beautiful bond unfolding 

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

You should get out more, Bucky. Meet people and make friends, Bucky. You need to get laid, Bucky.

Sam’s words echoed through Bucky’s head as he pushed open the door of the restaurant. The warm air welcomed him and the little bell at the entrance rattled when he entered. He didn’t know how it exactly happened, but all of a sudden Clint had pitched into the conversation and urged him to meet his cousin. And Bucky had agreed. Well, the desperate attempt to make them shut up backfired. Big time.

He didn’t want to date. Apart from the fact that he didn’t wish himself on anybody, he didn’t think he could handle a relationship like that. Hell, Bucky barely realized how he made friends in the past year, so how the hell was he supposed to date? He hadn't done it in ages. It was probably different now than it was 80 years ago. 

The waiter looked at him with wide eyes - fear visible on his face - when he entered and chose a quiet place in the corner, though the whole restaurant was fairly empty. What would he even talk about? His hand started to sweat. This had been a bad idea. A really stupid bad idea. His eyes swerved to the door and then back to the waiter standing behind a small bar. Was it too late to back out? 

But then the bell above the entrance chimed again and he knew that he had missed his chance. 

“Hello.” You smiled at him, clutching your bag with nervous fingers. “Are you James Barnes?”

Bucky scrambled to stand up and held out his hand to you with a tight smile. He nodded and gestured for you to take a seat after you told him your name. 

He could do this, he thought. Especially because you seemed just as nervous. The first thing you two had in common, right?

“I’m really sorry, this is kind of awkward.” You looked down at your hands beneath the table with hesitance. “I... uhm... I haven’t done this in a while,” you confessed with genuine eyes. And Bucky could see a hint of comfort washing through your face. 

“I doubt your last date is as long ago as mine, doll. You’ll probably do a lot better than me.”

A small laugh pressed past your lips and Bucky’s heart warmed at the sound. It felt good to make you laugh. He wanted to do it again.

“Let’s rush through the basics then so we can get to the interesting bits. I think that first half hour is what makes these things so awkward.” Your mouth spread into a grin as you straightened up.

“Sounds like a plan.” Bucky nodded. 

“Well, you already know my name... I work in a small bookshop in Brooklyn, I am an only child but never wanted to be. I love dogs, cats, ducks - all the animals, really, but I don’t have any pets because my landlord doesn’t allow them. Well... I have fish - I had to settle for fish because they're quiet. But that’s their problem, you know? They’re quiet and you can’t play with them or pet them.” You shrugged. “Uhm... I like to read - I do that a lot, and I think that’s it.” Your speech ended with a bright smile and Bucky couldn’t help his own from spreading. 

“My turn?”

“Yes.”

“Okay...” He straightened ups as well, a little giddy about the situation now. Normally, Bucky wouldn’t react this way to something he didn't like, but he wanted to try it this time. You were just so sweet and he didn't want to ruin the date... for you. “My friends call me Bucky, I grew up in Brooklyn, I have a sister... had a sister. And I think I’m more of a cat person - if I had to choose. I don’t have any pets. I work a lot, I guess it keeps me distracted. And... I feel like my back story doesn’t need to be explained, you probably know all about it.” He didn’t give you much, Bucky knew that. But those were the things he could say easily and really, he wasn’t sure how you’d react to most of it.

“Bucky... I like it. What’s it short for?”

“Buchanan. ’s my middle name.”

“Like the President?”

“Yup.”

“Hm... I guess that’s kinda cool.”

“I guess.”

"Can I call you Bucky?"

He felt weirdly content with you saying his name. "If you want." There was no regret in his decision as he watched your face scrunch in excitement.

The shallow topics went on for a while, and Bucky was surprised to see that talking to you was easy. He didn’t worry about what you thought, because you reacted to his replies with intrigue and adoration. He felt heard. And he had to admit that he actually enjoyed the little meeting his teammate had set up so far. He learned a bunch of stuff about you. And he picked up on little quirks you had and he celebrated every new one he noticed. Like the way your nose slightly crunched when you didn't believe him, or how your finger grazed over the table when you talked about something you really liked - back and forth. It was comforting to be in your presence.

Bucky leaned back in his booth as he emptied his beer, watching as you ordered another drink for yourself. He found himself smiling into the bottle when the waiter agreed to add an extra peppermint leave, making you bite back a bright smile. The waiter smiled as well, a lot less tense than he had been before you had arrived and it fascinated Bucky how contagious your good mood was. Then you turned your attention back to Bucky and he had to regain his composure. His arm slipped from the back of the booth and fell to his side as he waited for you to talk again. 

“Okay, real talk, now - and I need you to answer this question honestly.” Your fingers pressed on the table like he’d seen important politicians do and Bucky had to hide a smile. 

“Hit me with it.”

“If you could be a mix of any two animals, which combination would you choose?”

Bucky was baffled for a second. He had expected everything but this. And then - out of the blue - he laughed. A real can’t-hold-back-the-snort-if-I-tried-laugh and it felt so unbelievably good, it scared him a bit.

You gasped appalled, but the small smirk behind your hand couldn’t be hidden. “This is serious, Bucky. It says a lot about you.”

“Really, how?”

“Well, for example, I would choose an elephumblebee because it would look freaking adorable. A tiny elephant with wings and a furry butt, are you kidding me? Why the government hasn’t made that happen yet is truly beyond me.”

Bucky got it, then. It really did say a lot about you. You were fun and cute and he could imagine a little clumsy at times - just like he would imagine an elephumblebee. And even though it still felt foreign to him to engage in a silly activity like this, with you, it was fun - and he wanted to. So he thought really hard, his eyes focusing on the wall behind you and you waited patiently and ordered another beer for him. 

Who would have thought that James Bucky Barnes would ever sit in a restaurant and think about how ridiculous a dog with a giraffe’s head would look? Certainly not Bucky. But it was almost comforting to do so.

“Alright, I think I got it.” You just nodded in anticipation. “I think I would be a spider-wolf... a spi- a spolf.” Bucky was satisfied with his answer: A lone wolf and someone people didn’t really like - pretty accurate if you’d asked him. 

You just watched him with a tilted head for a while and Bucky felt a little uncomfortable with his answer now. Had he said the wrong thing? 

“What?” Your lips just pursed in response. 

“Nothing, nothing..,” you trailed off and Bucky couldn’t stop staring at your lips. “I was just thinking, you know - I think I’ve never seen a real wolf before. It’s not on my bucket list or anything and I heard they are so much bigger than you think, but like... have you?”

“I actually have. In the wild - amazing animals and yeah, bigger than a dog, that’s for sure.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up. “Wow, that must have been such a unique experience.”

Bucky smiled sadly, nodding. “To be honest, I didn’t really realize it when it happened. I couldn’t appreciate it the way you would.”

“Oh well, still. It’s awesome. The most extraordinary animal I have ever seen in ‘the wild’ was a raccoon. There’s not a lot of wildlife potential when you never leave the city.” You shrugged as you pressed your lips in a straight line, but Bucky chuckled.

“Not much of the vacation kind?”

“It’s not that...” You paused and sighed. “I just love the bookstore too much. There is this one lady. She comes in every Thursday at exactly the same time and she just sits and reads and she has the most amazing stories to tell. And then there is the little stray cat that comes by every day and we have a little cuddle session. Oh, and I can’t forget about the quiet tatted college kid that secretly reads romance novels in the back isles for hours on end. I would miss them too much...”

Bucky just sat and listened to you ramble on and on about all the individuals you were so attached to, even if they didn’t know. And he was reminded yet again how much he enjoyed this initially dreaded evening. It didn't feel forced and you were so authentic and kind. Bucky was relaxing with every second he spend in the cozy little restaurant with you. He was sure that he could spend a whole day here with you, without getting bored.

He leaned forward as he watched the corners of your mouth tug up and your eyes sparkle with joy while you talked about the bookstore. And he couldn’t help but ask himself how he ended up here. How had he gotten a date with the most caring person in the world - no, really, what were the odds of that happening to him? But the most present thought swarming his mind was: How is a woman like you still single? 

You suddenly stopped taking and Bucky was catapulted back to reality. You looked at him with wide eyes for the fraction of a second and then they softened and your gaze averted to the table. Had he just said that out loud?! Bucky didn’t know what to do. He was frozen to the booth, his hands tightening around the bottle and he held his breath - didn’t dare breathe until you gave him a new reaction.

After a beat, you sighed and looked him in the eyes apologetically. “I... I don’t know.” Your hand moved over the table and nervously began picking on the toothpicks in the glass jar. “I guess, I don’t seem to be the taste of most men around here. I don’t like wild parties and spending my weekends wasting away with a hangover.”

Bucky felt himself cringing at how uncomfortable he had made you. You clearly were embarrassed talking about this, but he would let you talk - or chose not to anymore. Either way, he would respect your decision.

“I... uh... I just haven’t had any luck so far. When I talk about my interests, everyone’s eyes just glaze over and then I never see them again. They think I’m boring, but that’s... I like concerts and dancing... I just don’t need the whole-” Your hands flailed in front of your face before you sunk back into your seat. 

“You’re not boring, doll. I completely understand what you’re saying. I don’t need all that-” now his hand flailed in the air, “either.” Which made you break a smile that got brighter when he returned it. And Bucky felt a little pride swell in his chest when he watched your mood lift again. 

“Can I ask you something?” You suddenly said and Bucky felt a little nervous at the piercing stare you gave him.

“Uh... sure.”

You bit your lip before finally speaking again. “You don’t really strike me as the social type, either.”

Bucky waited for you to continue, but you seemed in thought all of a sudden. “That’s not a question.”

You laughed nervously. “Right. I guess my question is... well, why did you agree to this evening? Clint didn’t really make it seem as if there was a lot of convincing involved.”

Bucky already facepalmed himself mentally for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t want to lie to you - it didn’t feel right. No, you deserved the truth - especially after you had answered his stupid question earlier so honestly.

“To be completely honest, I didn’t know how else to make my friends- uh...shut up. But I don’t regret coming here if that’s what you’re getting at.” He rushed that last part when he saw your face sadden. “I don’t get out too often, that’s true. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t want to... I just don’t know how to do this very well - talking to people. Usually, I get weird stares or fearful glances.”

Your eyes gleamed with something unintelligible before you leaned forward, your elbows resting on the table. “I don’t know how anyone could be scared of you, Bucky.”

“That’s very sweet of you to say, doll. But I don’t blame them, I would probably react the same if I weren’t... me.” His eyebrows furrowed with the last word and he could see a shiver of sadness wash over you.

“I think you’re pretty great,” you offered with an encouraging tap on his hand and Bucky felt his stomach churn.

A short silence overtook you and Bucky tried to keep his composure. The mood had shifted slightly, not uncomfortably, no - but just enough to leave his mind free from any topics he could talk about. Which usually wasn’t a problem, but he wanted to talk to you - tell you more and get told more. Which was why he was extra grateful for your breaking the silence after a couple seconds.

“So... I guess we can check off the heavy stuff as well?”

“Seems so,” he chuckled, holding on to the little feeling of relief you had sparked in his chest.

For the next hour, you actually got Bucky to open up a little more. He hadn’t even realized you were the one talking most of the time because he enjoyed listening to you so much. He came to realize, however, that it wasn’t so bad to talk about himself. He liked the way your eyes lit up at his stories about Clint, or the occasional ‘what, really?’ you threw into his anecdotes, making him feel important.

After another 30 minutes, you had made it outside. And as Bucky stood outside the restaurant door, hands buried deep in his coat pockets, helooked at you with an honest smile, while you adjusted your mittens.

“Thank you for giving this a chance, Bucky. I had a lot of fun tonight.” Your words built puffy white clouds in the air, but other than those, the butterflies in his stomach didn’t dissipate.

“I did, too,” he confessed, realizing for the fourth time today, that this was really true. “We should do this again.”

You bit your lips as your shoulders jerked with reluctance, but before you turned fully, you stepped towards Bucky and hugged him tightly. “Definitely.” 

The cold weather seemed a lot more bearable all of a sudden. Bucky caged you to his chest with his arms and pressed his smile into the crook of your neck while an excited shiver ran through him. He felt incredible, safe, content, and he realized how much he had missed hugs - real, affectionate hugs.

“And you’re not a spolf,” you mumbled into his ear, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re a curtle - a cat-turtle. Because you have a hard shell and you don’t trust very easily, which might make people feel like you don’t care. But you do - you’re just a little misunderstood.” You pulled back with a sad smile and Bucky felt his hands tighten around you as he stiffened. Though despite the surprise, his lips split into a bright smile.

He gazed into your eyes for a little longer before he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, making a giddy smile appear on your lips. “Thank you, doll.” 

And then, with a final wave ‘good night’ you turned and walked down the street. Bucky watched until you rounded the corner, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face.

**Bonus:

“So... how was the date?” Sam teased as Bucky entered the main area of the compound. But his friend just wanted to go to his room and revel in the serenity, you had brought him, a little longer.

“That’s none of your business, punk,” Bucky grumbled, passing the sofa. 

“Why, did you more-than-kiss her goodbye?”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and turned with an annoyed expression, but not even he could hide the blush on his cheeks from deepening at the thought of actually kissing you. His heart was pounding in his chest.

“Oh! Wait? Did you really?!”

“Shut up, Sam.” Bucky wanted to deny it for your sake, but he liked the thought of it too much. So he swiftly decided to simply not spill in front of his friends and your cousin. 

“Holy shit.” He heard Clint chuckle while he made a beeline to his room, missing how the two avengers exchanged a $10 bill behind him.

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Dinner for Three

Summary: Going to the BAU with the intention of dragging your boyfriend away from working all night proves to be a good decision when you meet a team member of his who needs some cheering up based on the ending scene of 11x09 with an Aaron Hotchner x reader component

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: a very slight sexual reference

You're slightly disappointed when you get Aaron's call.

He'd left the BAU early that night to pick you up for your 8 pm dinner date. It hadn't worked, and he texted you something cryptic about a new case involving a longer-running case that concerned the team's technical analyst.

As always, he was incredibly apologetic, calling you as soon as he had a chance, but you don't mind. You know how important his job is and the sacrifices he has to make. Plus, the other times this has happened, he more than made it up to you, proving to be the sweet boyfriend you know he is.

He texts you the next night to let you know they're still working, but he's okay and in Virginia. It's so late that you don't get a chance to text him back until the morning, and you're just hoping he got some sleep during the night, but it doesn't seem likely.

On the second night, he's more upbeat, delivering the good news about his case closing. Oddly, you don't get another message that he's on his way into DC.

With your own profiling effort, you deduce he went to the BAU and got stuck into his paperwork, no doubt putting eating and sleeping at the bottom of his priority list. As a diligent girlfriend, you're walking out the door of your apartment to force him to leave to get something to eat before you can overthink about having never been to his office or the possibility he might not want to see you.

After making it through security and proving who you're there to see, you take the elevator to the sixth floor. It's dead silent, probably because it's close to 10 at night.

Aside from the fluorescent overhead lights in the bullpen and the corridor, the only other light on is an office on the left after you step off the elevator.

It has to be Aaron's since he's most likely the only one here, you reason as you walk toward the door. Gently you tap on the doorframe, but the woman inside definitely isn't your boyfriend.

There are personal belongings in the office, clothing, and boxes scattered on the sofa and table, and two suitcases on the floor, like someone's been living out of the office, and judging by the jacket's pattern, it could be the woman in the room.

She jumps when she sees you, and you quickly apologize. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

She shakes her head. "No. No, it's okay."

Then you realize it's weird that you're just standing there without an explanation, a total stranger. "I'm looking for Aaron Hotchner."

Nervousness flashes across her features. "Agent Hotchner is due back soon. Sorry, who are you?"

It's a question you expected, knowing you might bump into other agents, despite hoping you wouldn't. Aaron has told you about how he keeps his personal life, and therefore you, further away from his professional life than he used to, and you're not sure he'd want his team to know who you are.

You also should have anticipated the suspicion in her voice since people out there want to hurt them and could find their way into the offices to do so.

"His...friend." You settle on. It doesn't even sound right to say anymore. "Although, if he said that about me, he'd be in trouble." You joke mostly to yourself.

She looks more excited now, grinning like a little kid who's found a secret block of chocolate. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical analyst."

"Oh, of course. Aaron talks a lot about you." You tell her, putting a face to the stories as you shake her hand. "I'm Y/n L/n."

"The reason he smiles every time he checks his phone nowadays?" She asks, now eager.

Heat rises to your cheeks. You've seen the smile Penelope's talking about when you catch Aaron looking at you before he bashfully looks away. It's adorable and heartwarming to think about him doing it around his colleagues and probably trying to hide it.

"Sometimes." You downplay it. "It could be him getting a picture of Jack."

She shakes her head. "No, he shows us those. Texts ding on his phone, and he tries to hide his smile, and that's how we know it's not BAU-related. Theories about what they are and who they're from is the hottest gossip around here."

"It better be me then." You say, although you have no doubts that it is. "Otherwise, he's got some explaining to do."

Penelope laughs lightly. "Don't worry. He's about as loyal as they come."

You had come to that conclusion by yourself, but it's good to have it verified by someone who has known him for over a decade.

She catches your eyes wandering around the room and explains it. "I don't know how much you know, but I'm on lockdown here until further notice."

"Aaron mentioned it vaguely." You tell her. "I'm sorry. It must suck." It's not the most aesthetically pleasing home with bleak concert walls, generic lamps, and no closet. She's provided you with information about Aaron's whereabouts and character, so it's your turn to try and help her. "This couch wouldn't look as bad with some sheets, and I'm sure you've got some decorations. I can help. Only if you'd like, no pressure."

Instantly, she sees the optimistic side of you that Aaron admires and loves. "Yeah." Penelope agrees slowly. "Thank you."

She hasn't wanted to take anything out of her bags because it means this nightmare would be real, but you're offering to help, and she realizes she could do with a friend. If she happened to stumble across information about her boss during the process, then so be it. 

You help her brighten up the room, complimenting her comfort decorations.

"So, what's it like to be in a relationship with Aaron Hotchner?" She asks you as she fluffs the throw pillows on the couch, and you hang fairy lights.

After ten minutes of non-Aaron-related talk, you know she's been refraining from asking questions about your relationship. 

"Amazing." You answer effortlessly. "He's..." You trail off from your sentence when someone clears their throat, and you turn around to see your handsome but tired-looking boyfriend standing in the doorway. "Hey."

His expression softens seeing you there, but his features show confusion. "Hey." He returns while acknowledging Penelope with a nod as he steps further into the room. The hand not holding his briefcase comes to rest on your lower back, and you lean into his warmth. "What are you doing here?"

You weren't expecting him to show you physical affection in front of people he knows, but it's a welcomed surprise. "I thought I'd come and convince you not to sit at your desk doing paperwork all night."

He avoids being very unprofessional and asking exactly how you planned to distract him since you're under the careful observation of Penelope, who's memorizing your interaction to repeat to the team tomorrow. 

"There are still a few things we need to go over, Garcia," Aaron says to her. About the case they just closed, you figure, but it can't be overwhelmingly good news because he wouldn't stretch out telling her that she's safe. "Are you going to be okay?"

You admire her bravery as she nods with tears filling her vision. "I'm gonna make myself a vegetarian omelet for dinner." She says before pausing. "Do you both want to stay?" She quickly backtracks. "Forget that. You've probably got places to be, sorry."

Aaron looks to you for your judgment, and although he's letting you decide since this would typically be time you two spend together, there's an answer he would prefer. 

"No, we've got nothing planned, and I'm starving." You confirm. Penelope's face lights up, the sadness she's holding onto about her new living quarters feeling less heavy. "Do you have jalapenos?" 

"Do I have jalapenos?" She repeats, suggesting an obvious answer. She moved to grab the ingredients. "I should let you know that I have had a love affair with all things hot and spicy since I was, like, 12."

You smile at her delight as Aaron takes the chopping board she handed him with a bowl full of jalapenos. "Maybe the more important question is will you judge me for putting them on my food even if they make me cry a little?" You ask, nudging Aaron, who knows the incident you're referencing.

She looks at him in horror before turning back to you. "Is there any other way to eat them?" She asks.

"Someone." You nod to Aaron, who's getting to work on his task. "Eats spicy food without even tearing up."

He snorts out a laugh. "You weren't crying 'a little.'" He reminds you, defending himself playfully. "It was full-on crying with mascara tracks down your cheeks. You should have seen her, Penelope." He continues. "Seriously, I thought we were about to get kicked out of that restaurant. The waitress was so concerned." He laughs at the memory. He concluded that night that your crying with pleasure tendency is much better when it's only the two of you.

You lightly hit him on the shoulder to scold him before letting your hand linger to test the boundaries. He relaxes under your touch, muscles relaxing a little.

"It's a natural reaction." You jokingly argue back. "I'm on a spicy food ban at restaurants now." You inform Penelope.

"Oh, you've got to come to the next pasta night at Rossi's." She tells you. "It's the best food you can get, no jalapenos involved."

You look to Aaron for permission, not wanting to agree to something if he doesn't want you around his friends. He smiles lightly at you, now knowing introducing you and merging two parts of his life isn't as risky as he thought it might be.

"I'd love that." You agree. "Ready for that, Aaron?"

"Please agree." Penelope jumps in. "They'll love her. Don't worry." She assures you. "I'll make sure the team knows how perfect you are for him." 

Aaron chuckles beside you. "I don't doubt that." 

There's a double meaning that you and Aaron catch. Most obviously, Aaron knows the team will find out about your dinner together and probably learn every detail about you that they can before you officially meet, and additionally, he doesn't have any doubts that you're perfect for him.

james potter who is patient with you when you get flustered and shy around him. he encourages you to take ur time but then that’s just worse because he’s too sweet for you.

dies. he definitely does this

summary: james is patient with shy!you

shy!fem!reader 0.8k words

James is being particularly touchy today. His hand on the small of your back as you roam the stores, an arm around your shoulders as you wait in line.

You think he’s trying to make you feel safe. You do feel safe. You always do, with him. Only, his incessant touching is more flustering than he knows. You’re burning up by the time you get to the last store. It’s worse when you realise the only thing left on your shopping list is new bras, underlined twice because you’ve been needing them for two weeks now. It’s not something to be embarrassed about, but you get embarrassed anyway.

James is blabbering on about how long the two of you had to wait in line for doughnuts when you stop walking and turn to him.

“James,” you interrupt.

He stops walking, too. Almost walks right into you but saves himself by grabbing your elbow before he steps on your feet. “Yeah?”

“Um. You don’t have to come into this store with me, if you don’t want to.”

James looks puzzled. He squints at the store and what it sells. Then he zeroes in on the list held limply in your hand. Something like realisation washes over his pretty features.

“Oh,” he says. He looks back up at you. He doesn’t look awkward, not even a smidge. You envy him for it. “You don’t want me to?”

He doesn’t mean to guilt trip you but you get guilt tripped, anyway. You don’t want to make him leave just because you’re embarrassed. It wouldn’t be fair.

“Well, no. I mean, yes, I want you to come,” you say, your words all muddled and breathless. “But I’m just …” Embarrassed, says your face. Shy.

James smiles like he understands. All soft and gooey. Enough to make you melt like a popsicle in the sun. “I get it, angel. You’re embarrassed, yeah?”

You nod. Even admitting you’re embarrassed is embarrassing. It’s awful. James makes it less so.

“Well,” he says measuredly. His hand slides down to your forearm and squeezes. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed … you know? But if you want me to wait out here, I will.”

You shake your head. “No,” you say quickly. He’s got this way of unraveling you with words. The touching helps, too. “It’s okay. You can come.”

James beams. “Okay, baby. You sure?”

You match his smile as best you can. “I’m sure, Jamie.”

You lead the way into the shop, afraid if you don’t do it now you’ll back out. You weave through racks of dresses and tops and pants until you reach the bra section. It’s a lot more intimidating than you’d initially thought. Worse with James here, holding your hand and standing so close you can smell his cologne. You stand at the end of the aisle and swallow.

“I’m glad I came,” says James jovially. You look up at him, puzzled. He’s already grinning down at you. “Now I can help you choose, pretty girl.”

Heat rises to your cheeks so fast it’s alarming. As if you weren’t already flushed enough.

“James,” you groan.

James raises his eyebrows as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “What? You don’t want my help? I think I have pretty good taste.”

He tugs you further into the aisle until you’re surrounded by lacy bras and picks one from its rack before you can stop him. He turns on you and holds it up shamelessly.

“What d’you think?” He asks seriously. It’s pale pink with a tiny bow in between the cups. It’s pretty. Maybe James does have good taste.

You’re about to say so when he holds it up to your chest as if imagining you wearing it. “It suits you,” he says, looking at you from under his lashes.

“James,” you bemoan. You push his hands away and flush furiously, your face and neck hotter than a furnace.

James laughs boyishly. You’re so glad he finds your shyness amusing. He must see the anguished look on your face because he quits laughing and steps back into your space, cupping your face with one hand.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispers. It’s hard to obey him when he’s looking at you so earnestly. Big brown eyes and long, thick lashes. His inky curls tumbling over his forehead. You nod because he’s too pretty to say no to.

He grins and kisses your forehead before pulling away. You miss him being so close but then you don’t. You think you might pass out if he ever gets that close to you in public again.

“Do you like this one?” He’s asking, holding up the pink bra still in hand. “I’ll find your size and you can try it on, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You get the feeling the heat in your cheeks won’t go away for a long while.

-

could you write something please where ron accidently takes a love potion but he doesn't act any different around you than normal so you don't suspect anything until you find out the next day <3 thanks!

This is so freakishly adorable I’ve been melted into a puddle.

You were sat down on the couch at the common room before you felt your boyfriend’s muscly arm slither around your waist.

“Hi.” Was all he said before you looked at him, his face into the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face that’s as red as his hair the tips of his ears a rosey color that complimented his eyes so well.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture but Ron was always that lovey dovey towards you, especially those moods of his when he’s super clingy and clings to you the whole day.

“Hi.” You said back before he rubbed his chin against your shoulder, his eyes looking into yours puppy like with a smiley pout. “Someone’s clingy tonight.” You chuckled as you flipped through the book you were reading. “You smell really good, do you always smell this good?” Ron said in a cheery tone.

“I hope so.” You threw your arm around him before he started squealing softly. “What are you reading?” Ron asked, that cheery tone not leaving his voice which made you feel all soft and fuzzy.

“A muggle book series I’m obsessed with.” You flipped the cover over for him to see before he nodded, looking at the book for a slight second then his eyes were on yours still nodding with a dreamy expression.

“Do you like me?” He asked, his face leaning closer to yours. “Of course I like you, Ron.” You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair. “Then would you let me kiss you?”

“Ron, you don’t need to ask.”

Ron’s dreamy expression fell for a second before he nodded and kissed you just like how you always liked, your hand in his hair making you drop the book that was in your hand as The loud thud startled him. “Sorry.” You said before kissing him again.

You brought your free hand on one of his arms giving it a light squeeze. “I’m in love with you.” He whispered against your lips before you smiled, your heart racing in your chest. “I love you too, sweet boy.” You kissed his nose before he fell into your embrace, cuddling the whole night with his head on your chest.

——

It was the next day as you were getting ready for potions class and grabbing whatever you needed, your head turned to the love potion filled chocolates you made just yesterday and that were hidden under your bed, you only made them to impress slughorn because he surely picked favorites.

You leaned down and grabbed the box, seeing as it was already opened and over three chocolates have been eaten.

You gasped and put it down, immediately remembering how Ron was acting last night you couldn’t help but laugh. Too thankful it was him and not one of your roommates, that would have been awkward.

You took the box to find Ron and ask him.

You found him seated next to Harry, his robes on and ready for class. “Hi, good morning.” You said before ron gave you a sleepy smile.

“Ron, did you eat from this box yesterday?” You said, pulling it up so he can see it. He awkwardly glanced at Harry then at you. “Yes, why?”

“Oh, phew.” You mumbled placing a hand to your chest. Thinking of how differently this would have turned out if it wasn’t Ron who ate from it. “I found it under your bed and it looked too good.. sorry.” Ron continued. “It’s okay, it was love potion chocolates.”

Ron’s face fell. “Blimey, it’s your love potion..right?”

“Yes. I do like it when you’re clingy.” You winked at him and leaned down to peck his lips, walking back to your dorm room leaving him a blushing mess.

The Purrfect Storm | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley inadvertently becomes a pet owner after he hits a stray with his Bronco. When he meets a lovely vet tech who is willing to help, both Bradley and the cat fall for her instantly.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, a bit of angst

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request! Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was on his way home late from work, anxious to get there before the sky opened up. Dark, ominous clouds had just moved in, signaling a rare downpour was about to hit San Diego.

He zipped along an empty, wooded side street just as a loud crack of thunder rocked his Bronco. Then his headlights caught something gray dashing out of the trees, and he tried his best to swerve, but he was afraid he had just hit an animal. 

"Damn it," he muttered, pulling over and turning on his hazard lights. He jumped out of the Bronco to see if he could spot anything in the roadway. The wind was picking up, and he could feel the first few drops of rain, but as soon as Bradley saw the gray cat that was no longer able to walk correctly, he ran toward it. 

When he got closer he saw a little bit of blood matted in its fur, and he immediately felt like a villain. He also had no idea how to take care of an injured cat. 

"Here kitty?" he said awkwardly as he approached the immobile animal. He was greeted with a loud, angry meow. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I hit you. But can you just be chill while I pick you up?"

As soon as he had both hands around the middle of the cat, it sank its sharp teeth into the back of his hand.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Bradley yelled, getting pelted with more raindrops. "I'm trying to help you now, you ungrateful little shit!"

Big, angry yellow eyes looked up at him as he clamped the cat's mouth shut with one big hand and then tried to scoop it up again. This seemed to work better, so he carted it back to the Bronco and set it on the back seat floor area. 

"Just relax, I know where there's a veterinary clinic," he told it with an eye roll before he climbed back in and pulled away. 

Bradley navigated a lot slower now that the rain was coming down. But when he pulled into the clinic parking lot, he only saw one light on inside. There was someone moving around at the front desk, so he hopped out into the pouring rain and gently held the cat with its mouth closed. He knocked on the door with his knuckle and watched the woman behind the front desk look at him a little warily before she headed toward the door.

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

You were alone in the clinic with the door locked, trying to finish the weekly audit so you could leave. You always stayed late on Thursday nights, and now you were going to have to drive home in this crazy storm. 

When you heard someone knocking on the door, you jumped in your seat. You tried to see who it was, but the rain was obscuring the window portion of the door, so you made your way over only to find a soaking wet man in a naval uniform holding a drenched cat.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," you told him loudly through the door.

He glared at the cat and then tilted his head back and let the rain pour on his face for a beat. Finally he groaned and looked at you with pleading eyes. "You can't do anything? I hit this cat on my way home from work!"

You sighed and looked at all of his insignia pins, including his nametag. Bradshaw. It was pretty unlikely that an officer was here to murder you, especially since a good portion of your clients were naval families. Plus, he had actually brought the injured animal here instead of leaving it in the road.

"I can take a quick look," you told him as you unlocked the door. When you opened it and finally got a good look at him, you went a little speechless. He was really tall and really muscular. And even with his brown hair wet and messy across his forehead, you could tell he was really handsome. "Come on in," you managed to say, and he slipped inside with the cat. You locked the door behind him.

"Thanks. I really appreciate this. I feel terrible enough about what happened, but this cat hates me so much right now, I'd be a little afraid to take it to my house with me in this condition."

You laughed as he winced at you, and you immediately noticed the teeth marks on the back of his hand. 

"Oh, he got you good," you remarked. "Definitely doesn't like you too much at the moment. Let's see if I can get him patched up."

"It's a male?" officer Bradshaw asked as you signalled for him to follow you back to an exam room. 

"Yeah, I figured he was, because he's huge. But he definitely is. I could tell when you held him up."

Bradley scoffed. "I should have known. Females are usually more accommodating towards me."

You laughed softly and said, "I'll bet they are," under your breath. But then you realized that you were the sucker who agreed to let him get his cat checked out after hours. So you definitely shouldn't be surprised.

"Up on the table," you instructed, and you watched him release the cat and take a huge step away from it. "Aww, come on. He's a sweetheart!" you said, stroking the cat and making him purr. "What did he ever do to you?"

You watched officer Bradshaw hold up his bloody hand with a bland look. 

"That's totally fair since you ran him over," you said with a smirk. "And I'll look at your hand after I see how much damage there is to his leg here."

"Thank you," he muttered, reaching for a paper towel to press against his hand while he dripped water all over the floor. "I appreciate it. I'm Bradley, by the way."

You glanced at him briefly and smiled as you told him your name. "And what's the cat's name?"

Bradley just shrugged. "He doesn't have a collar, and he's pretty grungy. He's probably a stray."

"You should name him then," you said as you felt around the cat's leg with gentle fingers. It was a pretty clean break that you would be able to take care of tonight without the vet here.

"Sunshine," Bradley said sarcastically. "His name is Sunshine." You looked up at him, and he was smiling at you and the cat, his handsome features betraying his stern voice as he smiled.

"Did you hear that, Sunshine? Your daddy clearly thinks the world of you, and he's going to take the best care of your leg after I splint it."

"I am?" he asked, leaning closer to you. "Come on, doc. I can't keep this cat. He'll kill me in my sleep," he reiterated, holding up his hand and the bloody paper towel. He wasn't wearing a ring.

You laughed at the concerned look on his face. "Okay, first of all, I'm not the vet. I'm just a tech. Second, someone needs to take care of Sunshine, and I think that someone is going to be you. And third, girls dig guys who have pets. Does that help make this more appealing for you?" 

He took another step closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat. He was just a few inches away and glaring playfully at you. "First of all, you seem to know what you're doing well enough, so you could have lied and told me you were the vet. Second, Sunshine here will have me sleeping with one eye open. And third, yeah, maybe that does make this more appealing to me."

Your belly swooped, and you had to bite your lip. His brown eyes were the color of deep amber up close, and his mustache made everything he said seem more playful. 

"And fourth," he added, "do all women dig men who have pets? Or are you speaking from personal preference here? Either way, it does sound appealing to me."

You were gaping at him now, and a startled laugh escaped your parted lips. 

Meow!

"Sorry, Sunshine," you told the cat, patting his matted, damp fur until he was calm again. "You're right. This is about you, not Bradley." You positioned yourself in front of the cat and grinned over your shoulder. "I think it's all women, but it's definitely me," you whispered with a smile. You were met with a crooked grin as Bradley pushed his damp hair back from his face. 

"Good to know," he told you softly.

And now it was time to get to work. You made a mental list of all of the supplies you would need, then you turned to Bradley and reached for his good hand. He grabbed onto yours without hesitation. "Here, keep a hand on Sunshine and make sure he stays on the table," you said, running your thumb along his calloused fingers. 

"Alright," he said a bit reluctantly, squeezing your hand before letting go of you and holding the cat.

"I'll be right back with everything I need for the splint."

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

Bradley watched you leave the small room, and he took a second to breathe in deeply and let it out slowly. You were fucking adorable. And he was very attracted to you. 

"Don't mess this up for us now," he told the cat as he waited for you to return. By the sound of things, the storm was still raging outside, but Bradley was in no hurry to leave anyway. He was still wet from the rain, and he probably looked like a mess, but it didn't matter. He'd stay here all night with you if you'd let him.

You strolled back into the room with some bandages, splints, and a weird thing covered in velcro. "This will only take a minute," you told him and Sunshine with a smile. He watched you measure the split against the cat's leg before cutting it to length. Then you set the bone in place with your fingers, gently talking the whole time so the cat would stay calm. Next you quickly wrapped the splint up tight with the bandage. 

"Now I need your help," you told Bradley, and you took his hand again. "Hold this bandage just like that so I can clip it in place." 

Bradley did exactly as he was told, and soon you were wrapping the velcro around everything to keep the cat's leg in one position. 

"Done!"

"Impressive," Bradley remarked. Even the cat looked way calmer now as he curled up on the exam table and ate the snack you gave him.

"Okay, now let me check you out," you said, holding out your small hand and letting him rest his palm against yours. "I'll need to clean it to get a better look," you told him, gazing up at him. "Might sting a bit."

"I can handle it," he reassured you as you led him to the sink. 

"I'm sure you can... Lieutenant? Is that what I'm looking at here?" you asked, nodding to the pins on his chest as you sprayed his hand with an antiseptic and dabbed at it with a cotton ball. 

"Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Bradshaw," he told you, earning a smile.

"At ease, sailor." Your gaze was playful as you looked up at him and grabbed a clean cotton ball.

"Aviator, actually," Bradley informed you. 

"Oh, wow. Your daddy is fancy," you said over your shoulder to the cat who was now grooming himself on the exam table. 

"I still can't believe I have a cat now," he muttered, making you laugh as you taped some sterile gauze to the back of his hand. "You should give me your number since I don't know what I'm doing. You know... just in case. You wouldn't want Sunshine to suffer in any way, would you?"

You smirked up at him as you finished taping him up. Bradley just gave you his most innocent look in return. "You're something else," you told him.

"Something good?" he asked, and he watched your lips curl into a soft smile.

A loud rumble of thunder had Sunshine standing up and hissing. "It's okay," you told him, turning to reach for him, but then the power went out, bathing everything in complete darkness.

Bradley heard a thump that sounded like Sunshine had jumped off the table, and when he reached out, the cat was no longer there. 

"Oh no, he's loose somewhere in the building," you said, taking out your phone and turning on the flashlight. "Sunshine!" you called, shaking the bag of cat treats. Bradley followed you out into the hallway, but he bumped into the back of you.

"Sorry," he said, stopping himself with his hands on your shoulders. 

"It's okay," you said softly as he took his hands away from you and tucked them into his wet pockets. 

"Can he hurt anything? Or get hurt?" Bradley asked, looking up and down the hallway as you shone the light around. 

"Aww, you sound like a concerned pet parent."

Bradley groaned. "He's growing on me, I think."

Your laughter rang out in the semi-darkness before the light went out. 

"Shit, my phone died," you told him.

Bradley checked his only to find he had about ten percent of his battery left. "Mine is not far behind yours."

"Don't use it, just in case we need to call someone," you said, turning to face him. Bradley could feel your hands on his chest very briefly. "Oh, there you are," you said softly. "Come with me to the waiting room, and I'll get you some towels."

Bradley felt your fingers dance down along his arm until they tangled with his. Then you were leading him back to the front of the building. It was a little easier to see up here, as a streetlight outside provided some light. 

"Don't move," you instructed softly, and Bradley could make out the shape of your profile as you turned away from him and disappeared. 

He was stuck here now. He wasn't sure if he should be thankful or upset. But he couldn't leave Sunshine loose in the clinic for the night. And he supposed you were stuck here too, since you couldn't leave him here alone with his dumb cat.

Bradley saw you in the shadows when you returned. "I got you some towels and a set of scrubs you can change into. My boss is about your size."

"Thanks," he replied, taking everything from your hands. "Where should I change?"

You laughed. "It doesn't matter. I can't see you."

"What if the power comes back on?!" 

You laughed harder, and Bradley loved the sound. "Go back behind my desk, and I'll turn around."

Bradley took a few steps and then slammed into a file cabinet. "Ow!"

"Oh sorry, don't hit the file cabinet," you said in a sweet voice laced with laughter. 

"Don't worry. I won't." Bradley awkwardly stripped out of his damp uniform and underwear with you standing ten feet away from him. He had to peel the fabric from his skin and hang it over your chair as neatly as he could. 

"So you're an aviator. What do you fly? Super Hornets? Helicopters? Comanches?" you asked as he ran one of the towels along his naked body. 

"You know a lot about naval aircrafts. And to answer your question, Super Hornet." He slipped into the well worn scrubs and tied them up at the waist. They were a little snug, as was the shirt, but it was better than being wet. 

"It's hard to live near Fightertown and not pick up on a few things," you told him. "You need help getting back around the file cabinet?"

"Nah, I'm good," he said, and somehow he found your hand in the darkness. And somehow you let him hold it. 

You laced your fingers with his and softly said, "Maybe we should try to find Sunshine one more time? Otherwise, I think we're stuck here for the night."

Bradley silently prayed that Sunshine was tucked safely away somewhere he couldn't be found in the dark. "That's a good idea," he confirmed out loud. Because he did feel kind of bad making you stay at your workplace all night, especially since he barged in on you unannounced with the cat. "I'm sorry I've been such an inconvenience when you were just trying to be helpful."

"Don't worry about it. I'm a sucker for injured animals. And brunettes."

Jesus. Bradley had been afraid maybe you had a boyfriend or something. But now you were flirting with him again, just like you had been earlier. You were also holding his hand a little tighter. And each time you wanted to change directions, you placed your other palm on his chest. 

"This is kind of fun," he murmured when you had your palm on his chest, guiding him into a different exam room. 

"Is it?" you asked with a giggle. 

"Yeah," he said, smiling as you pushed him where you wanted him to go. "It feels like one of those games from when you were in high school, you know? Spending time alone with a cute girl in the dark."

He could hear you exhale and feel it against his neck. You were so close to him. "Seven minutes in heaven?" you asked close to his ear. 

"Yeah, seven minutes in heaven," he confirmed, grinning like a lunatic.

"I never played that in high school," you told him, letting go of his chest to feel around the exam table for the cat. "Did you?" He felt your palm come to rest on him again. 

"Once or twice. But I was a real nerd back then. I just made it further with you than I ever did in high school," he admitted. Your soft laughter filled the room, and now Bradley was praying in earnest that Sunshine was very, very well hidden until the morning. 

"I find it hard to believe you used to be a nerd. You're very...."

"I'm very what?" he asked as you effortlessly lured him all around the dark clinic with you. 

"Sizeable," you told him as you ended up back in the hallway again.

"Sizeable?" he balked. "Did you just call me large?"

You were laughing again, and he really wished he could see your face right now. "I meant it as a compliment!" you insisted. 

"Ohhh," he said, feigning ignorance. "You must have never given someone a compliment before. Here, let me show you how. You're funny, smart, and very cute."

"Thank you," you whispered, leading him into one more exam room. 

"I wasn't done yet. You're also surprisingly good at navigating in the dark."

You laughed again, and your hand landed on his chest, but this time it was because you tripped and ended up pushing him up against the wall. 

"I take that back, you're terrible at navigating in the dark," he whispered, keeping his fingers laced with yours and steadying you with his other hand at your waist. "Are you okay?" 

This time your breathy laugh was very close to him. "You know, I was going to pretend I tripped on your cat, but I think you've just got me flustered. It's a good thing you're so sizeable, otherwise you might be splinting my leg right now."

Bradley felt your hand move up to the scars on his neck, and your fingers danced to his ear and up into his hair. He guided you a little closer so your entire body was skimming against his, and he could hear your breath hitch. 

"Yeah, it's a good thing," he agreed. His eyes fluttered closed in the dark, and he instinctively found your lips with his. One chaste kiss led to another and another, your lips brushing his. You parted your lips just enough to tease his bottom lip as your fingers gently pulled through his messy hair, and Bradley felt you melt into him. His heart was beating faster now, and he wanted to push you up against the wall.

Meow!

You gently released his lips, rubbing your nose against his as you took a small step away from him. Bradley quickly laced his fingers with yours again and cleared his throat.

"That didn't sound like Sunshine," Bradley said, trying to keep you as close as possible. He sighed in relief as your palm found its way to his chest again.

"It wasn't," you whispered. "There's a cat in a kennel in the back room. Let's go check on her."

So Bradley followed your lead to the end of the hallway, his heart still beating a little fast. 

"This is Ginger," you told him, guiding him over to a large cage. He could barely make out the cat inside with the scant light coming through the window. 

"What's wrong with her?" Bradley asked, kneeling down to get a better look. 

You sighed, never releasing his hand. "Her owner, if you can even call him that, didn't bring her here in time after she had a broken leg. You're really a very good pet daddy to Sunshine, even though you are clearly reluctant." You squeezed his hand. 

"What's going to happen to Ginger?" he asked, reaching his fingers through the cage to pet her fur. She meowed and nudged his fingers with her head. 

"Not sure yet. Her owner won't sign the paperwork for us to re break and try to set her leg correctly. He also won't agree to pay for medical care. I tried to kidnap her, but my boss wouldn't let me."

Bradley gave the cat one last scratch and stood up. "What if I steal her, and you pretend like you have no idea what happened to her?"

You giggled again and pulled him closer to you. "Oh, I like that idea. I also like the idea of you having two cats. That's adorable."

Bradley was grinning in the darkness. "I like being adorable."

You just hummed and whispered, "I think we're stuck here for the night." He could feel your breath on his neck again. "There's a loveseat in the breakroom. One of us can sleep on that."

"You take it. I can sleep on the floor."

You started to lead him in the direction of the breakroom, but it was very dark in there. He could barely see anything. 

"Maybe we could share it?" you asked so softly, Bradley was afraid he might have misheard.

"Okay....we can share it," he replied, and he sat down hard as you guided him over to the small sofa. His heart was beating a little faster again as he blindly tried to move the loose pillow against the armrest, and then he was reaching for you.

You were laughing softly. "How do you want to do this?"

Bradley's heart was hammering now. He wanted to kiss you again. "However you want." With a palm against his chest, you pushed him back against the pillow on the armrest, and he stretched himself out on his back across the loveseat. It was uncomfortable, and his feet were hanging way off the far end, but as soon as you eased yourself down against him, everything felt perfect.

"Is this okay?" you asked next to his ear as you kind of wedged yourself up against the back of the loveseat with your body halfway on top of his. Your chest was pressing against his, and Bradley could feel your leg come to rest between his knees. 

"Yes," he managed, his voice coming out raspier. "Is this okay?" he asked, wrapping his hand around your waist. 

You answered with a soft hum and let your palm rest against his chest like you had been doing all night. Oh no. He liked you. This felt too good, and Bradley probably wouldn't make it through the night with his heart intact. But he let you snuggle up against him in the pitch black room.

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

You weren't really sure if this was a good idea, but your night had taken a turn for the better when Bradley and Sunshine arrived, so you decided to just go with it. 

"Are you comfy?" you asked him, and you felt the deep rumble of his voice against your cheek and hand.

"Very. Are you warm enough?" 

If anything, you were too warm, pressed up against him like this. His body temperature was hot, and so was he. Bradley had managed to get you pretty giddy by this point, after sharing just a few kisses. The thing you couldn't understand was how comfortable you felt with him already. You'd just met him, and now you were both spending the night in the clinic together, but you weren't nervous or wary of him. 

"I'm beginning to think Sunshine premeditated this whole thing," he told you with a soft laugh. "Because I've been looking for a while, and I've never met anyone like you."

You bit your lip and angled your face toward his. "What does that mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

You could feel his hand tighten a little bit on your waist at your use of his rank. "It means I like you. A lot. And I'm desperately trying not to be creepy, because we're kind of stuck here together since the power is out and we can't find my cat, but I'm hoping you like me too."

In an instant, you let your lips connect with his again as you eased yourself a bit further up his body. As your fingers stroked along his cheek and up into his hair, you pulled your lips away from his and said, "I do." 

But as soon as the words were out of your mouth, Bradley was luring your lips back to his lips. He was so big and strong, but his kisses were soft, and his hands were undemanding against your lower back. He let you take the lead, never making you feel like you were trapped on the loveseat with him.

So you let yourself indulge in the sensation of his mustache against your skin and his legs tangled with yours. When you tugged your fingers through his hair, he groaned softly into your mouth, and you smiled against his lips. 

"Are you going to let me have your number?" he asked as you pulled away a few inches to catch your breath. 

You pressed your lips to his cheek and said, "Probably."

"Damn, what do I have to do to get a solid yes?" he asked, and you could tell he was smiling. 

"Tell me more about yourself," you whispered.

"I can do that," Bradley replied, running the tip of his nose along your cheek. So he told you all about his job, which sounded extremely exciting. He didn't tell you much about his family, other than he was pretty much alone. And he told you about his friends, who all sounded like a riot. 

"Sounds like you only have one thing missing in your life," you whispered against his neck.

"A girlfriend?" he asked, brushing his lips against your forehead. 

You had to bite your lip to keep from squealing. "I was going to say a cat," you told him. 

"Nah, Sunshine already took care of that, wherever he is. Tell me about you."

Bradley asked all the right questions at all the right times as you told him about yourself. He didn't think it was weird that you had a deaf, three-legged dog. He seemed to like that you volunteered at the animal shelter. And he invited you to get a drink with him at some bar called the Hard Deck tomorrow night. 

You yawned and snuggled against his neck, whispering, "I think I would like that." And soon you were falling asleep in his arms. 

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

Your pillow never felt this warm and comfortable. And why hadn't your alarm gone off? It was so bright in here, it must be time to get up for work. 

You stretched your arms just as you heard, "Good morning," whispered in a very raspy voice. 

"Oh!" you gasped, your eyes suddenly open, wide awake. You were staring at Bradley as he smiled hesitantly back at you. "You're so handsome. I was beginning to think I had imagined how you looked before the power went out."

He just laughed and seemed to take that as his cue to run his fingers along your arm. "That was a fun sleepover. Don't usually get to wake up with anything cute draped across me."

"Oh, Sunshine will remedy that, I'm sure," you said teasingly, letting your lips brush against his. Bradley was instantly smiling. 

Then you heard some purring from the doorway. "Speak of the devil," Bradley whispered. "Come here, Sunshine. We were looking for you."

But he just purred louder and louder. "He's probably hungry. I need to feed Ginger anyway, so I'll feed him too."

You peeled yourself off of Bradley and got another good look at him as he lounged back against the arm of the loveseat. You giggled, because he was way too big for the piece of furniture, and the scrubs you gave him were a little small. 

"What?" he asked, looking kind of smug.

"Nothing. But you need to get up before my boss comes in," you said, biting your lip and turning toward Ginger's kennel. But a loud knock on the front door had you panicking. Your boss would have just let himself in. "I'm going to check to see who it is."

"Want me to come with you?" Bradley asked, instantly at your back. 

But you were looking up through the front window, and you immediately recognized Ginger's owner. "No, I'll be okay," you grumbled, straightening your scrubs as you headed toward the waiting room. 

You unlocked the door and let him inside, fully aware that nobody seemed to care when your office hours actually started. "We actually don't open for another hour, but if you're here to sign the paperwork for us to try to fix Ginger's leg, I can get that ready for you."

But he just scoffed. "I'm not signing it. There's no way I'm spending that kind of money for a cat. I can't believe you even think that's reasonable."

You had to bite your tongue. It was only a few hundred dollars. 

"I'm just here to pick her up so I don't have to keep paying for you to board her," he added impatiently. 

But your brow scrunched up. "What are you going to do with her?"

He was rolling his eyes now. "Does it matter?"

You pressed your lips together in a tight line before you said, "It matters to me, yes."

"I'll just leave her somewhere. Maybe someone else will find her or maybe not, but I already got a new kitten for my kids."

Your blood was boiling now. "You're not serious," you said, raising your voice. 

"Just give me the cat, and don't charge me a kennel fee for today."

Bradley strolled out into the waiting room and asked, "Is there a problem?"

He eyed Bradley in his scrubs and said, "Your clinic has the most ridiculous prices. I just want to pick up the cat and go."

"You can't have her!" you told him. 

He shook his head and turned to Bradley. "Are you going to let your employee talk to me like that? Go get the cat!"

"She can talk to you however she wants," Bradley mumbled. He must have seen the anger in your eyes, because he started to block the hallway leading back to the kennels. 

You didn't care what this man thought he was going to do, he wasn't leaving here with an animal. "I'm not going to send Ginger with you if your plan is to abandon her."

"Well I'm not going to pay for any more services!"

He was only motivated by money, which might just make this easier. "Then sign her away to the clinic and leave," you told him, already rummaging in your file cabinet for the form you needed. Unfortunately this kind of thing happened from time to time. 

You glanced at Bradley where he stood with his thick arms crossed over his chest, thankful he was here. You were shaking with anger as you handed the form and a pen to Ginger's owner. And as you watched him sign his name, Ginger became property of the clinic. 

"And now you can get the hell out of here!" you told him, and he looked completely outraged. "You're abusive, and we will not allow you back for any of our services in the future." He was turning toward the door as you raised your voice. "And I hope your new kitten runs away and finds an owner who doesn't suck!"

He slammed the door behind him, and Bradley rushed over to you. "Are you okay? That was wild."

But all of the anger was gone now, and you just smiled up at him. "Wanna meet my new cat in the daylight?" you asked. 

"Yeah, I do," he said, and you kissed his rough cheek. 

You and Bradley sat on the floor in front of the open kennel door, holding hands. Inside the large cage, Sunshine was sitting next to Ginger as she ate her breakfast. 

"She's pretty. I couldn't tell what she looked like last night," Bradley murmured, reaching in and stroking her behind the ears. 

"I'll get her leg reset today, and I'll pay for her medical bills. Hopefully I can take her home with me in a few days."

Bradley cleared his throat. "I guess I should leave before your boss gets here?" 

"Yeah." But you really didn't want him to.

He nodded toward Sunshine and Ginger. "Looks like he made a new friend. If I can't get your number for me to use, you have to give it to me so we can set up a cat playdate. For Sunshine?"

You couldn't help laughing at his antics and the cute pout on his face.

"You can have my number for you. And Sunshine can have my number to reach Ginger. And if the offer still stands, I'd love to meet you at that bar later."

Bradley's face lit up as he got his phone out and handed it to you. "Sounds great. I'll text you the address." You entered your name and number and handed it back to him.

"I'll meet you there," you promised.

"I can't wait," he replied, but you were already kissing him. 

"You need to go," you whispered a second later. 

He pressed his lips to yours one more time before he reached in to get Sunshine. "I know, you don't want to leave Ginger. But I secured you a playdate," he told the cat. "Oh, how much do I owe you for fixing his leg?"

"Nothing," you said as you stood with your new cat in your arms, and Bradley followed you out to your desk. 

"That hardly seems fair," he replied, grabbing his khaki uniform from your chair. 

You just shrugged, setting Ginger down gently on your desk. "I did it off the clock anyway. Don't worry about it. You can buy me a drink later."

Bradley grinned at you. "I'll buy all of your drinks. And when we go out to dinner tomorrow night, I'll pay for that, too. Same as the movie I'm taking you to next weekend. Oh, and all of the concerts and museums we're going to visit together? I'm paying."

You giggled. "That actually sounds kind of perfect."

"You only like me because I'm a pet owner," he whispered, kissing you softly. 

You kissed him harder and ran your fingers through his hair one last time. "It certainly didn't hurt your cause. I'll meet you at the bar."

He nipped your lips one last time, and then held Sunshine up closer to his face as he headed for the door. "I owe you one. You want tuna for dinner? I'll feed you tuna every day."

You watched him walk outside and pull out of the parking lot, and then you plugged your phone in to check your messages.

You already had one from Bradley with the address for the Hard Deck. Then another one came through that said Thanks for one of the best nights of my life.

"I hope you liked Sunshine," you told Ginger. "Because I really like his dad."

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

Thanks for reading this one! Hope you liked it @morallydiseased! And thanks for your help @thedroneranger!

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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly

༺༻

The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate. 

You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in. 

You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out. 

"Hotchner." 

"Hi, handsome," you say softly. 

There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?

"Hi, honey." 

You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth. 

"What do you need?" he asks. 

"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?" 

"You're outside." 

You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume. 

"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."

"You really shouldn't be here," he says. 

Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him. 

"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep." 

"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner." 

You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here. 

"Yeah, please. If you want to." 

"I want to. Okay?"

Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay? 

"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome." 

"Bye." 

You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency. 

Maybe you should. 

—

The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person. 

Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature. 

You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head. 

"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV. 

You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?" 

"A little," he concedes sympathetically. 

You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck. 

"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."

You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.

"It doesn't matter," you say. 

"You sure?" 

You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips. 

"I'm good. Better, if you would…" 

"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down. 

You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close. 

He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.

You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own. 

"Slow down," he chides gently. 

You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings. 

He gives you a short, hard kiss. 

"Hotchner." 

You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.

"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency. 

His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll. 

"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight." 

Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it. 

"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess. 

"You're not telling me something." 

"No?" He blinks in surprise.

"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?" 

"I think that's obvious." 

"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron." 

He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am." 

You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt. 

"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror." 

"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks." 

You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses. 

"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not. 

That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does. 

You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings. 

Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue. 

It's you. 

You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest. 

"You're tired?" he asks.

Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same. 

You're not sure anymore. 

"Yeah," you say roughly. 

Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey." 

You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off. 

—

Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would. 

If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant. 

But what? 

You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect. 

It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices. 

"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting. 

"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side. 

"More than okay. Do you want to go in?" 

So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back. 

Phase two, your clothes. 

You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them. 

Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit. 

"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'. 

"I know," he says. 

You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break. 

"You like them?" you ask worriedly. 

"What makes you think I don't?" 

"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?" 

He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them." 

A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point. 

That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears. 

The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay. 

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 

You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm. 

"Hi," you say, unsure. 

"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously. 

You startle. "No, of course not." 

He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?" 

You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-" 

He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him. 

"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur. 

"Doesn't count. I begged for it-" 

"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up." 

"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make." 

"Right, sorry."

Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you. 

"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?" 

"No." You smile as you say it. 

You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector. 

"You didn't even try." 

You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are. 

"Don't make fun," you beg. 

"You're embarrassed." 

"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"  

You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape. 

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. 

You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?" 

His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long." 

"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum. 

"Oh, don't." 

"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry." 

"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart." 

"I did miss you," you relent. 

He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too." 

It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember. 

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 

You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine. 

You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow. 

I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites. 

Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria. 

Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes. 

"Do you want me to press these?" you ask. 

Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning. 

He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No." 

"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes." 

"I'll do it in the morning." 

"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?" 

He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.

"I want to talk to you about something." 

You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back. 

"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. 

"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?" 

"Depends." 

"On what?" 

"You know I care about you." 

Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way. 

"Do you know how much?" he asks. 

"Is that a trick?" 

"No." 

You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting. 

"Yeah, I know how much." 

"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways." 

"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.

Aaron Hotchner indulges you. 

"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too." 

It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?" 

"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together. 

He stares at you, a long, reassuring look. 

He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too." 

"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out." 

You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears. 

"I'm not," you say quickly. 

He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow. 

"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them." 

You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown. 

"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.

"The team think I'm spoiled." 

"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday." 

Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home. 

"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath. 

You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could." 

His easy, loving smile flattens. "No." 

"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together." 

"That's not going to work." 

"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up. 

"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there." 

"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again. 

"Sweetheart." 

"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile. 

You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness. 

Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him. 

"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice." 

It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it. 

"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-" 

He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?" 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?" 

"I love your voice," he says agreeably. 

Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time. 

—

His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later. 

Mostly because Aaron pushes you. 

Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater. 

You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall. 

"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves." 

He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it. 

It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).

Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you. 

He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss. 

Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter. 

Your lips buzz. 

"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back. 

"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into." 

"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain. 

He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom." 

You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?" 

"I'm sure I'll figure it out."

— 

The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick. 

You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill. 

"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile. 

You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs. 

I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly. 

"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her. 

She steps into your path. 

"Sorry," you say again. 

She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks. 

You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes. 

"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side. 

She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!" 

Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand. 

"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake. 

You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only- 

"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you." 

She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you." 

You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?" 

"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared." 

You lick your dry lips. "The other day?" 

"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun." 

Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement. 

"He really doesn't talk about me?" 

Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."

He doesn't talk about me. 

You pretend to check your watch. 

"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance. 

"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says. 

You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes. 

You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered. 

You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline. 

You're beautiful. 

Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it. 

Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself. 

"Hi, honey." 

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower. 

"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-" 

"Are you sure?" 

"...Are you okay?" 

You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody. 

"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?" 

"What's wrong with your clothes?" 

"You tell me, detective." 

You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels. 

"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you. 

You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it. 

"I don't understand." 

"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?" 

"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you." 

You wipe your wet face with mean hands. 

"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you." 

"No. I don't wanna see you." 

"Honey-" 

"Leave me alone, Aaron." 

You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry. 

You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing. 

So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?

Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive. 

That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread. 

"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling. 

Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either. 

The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking. 

It's him. Shocker. 

You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone? 

He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this. 

"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.

"I'm really mad." 

"What else?" 

"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things." 

"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks. 

Do you want to talk about it?

You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day. 

You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted. 

You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would. 

You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees. 

"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain." 

"I met Emily Prentiss." 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like." 

You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad. 

"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like." 

"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me." 

"Yes." 

Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely. 

"Yeah, honey." 

Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face. 

"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?" 

"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising. 

"Then why?" 

His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off." 

You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues. 

"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.

"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself." 

You're finding it difficult to be mad with him. 

He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over. 

You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin. 

"How long have you felt like this?" 

"Like what?" you ask wetly. 

"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance. 

"I don't know." 

"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch." 

You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches." 

You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.

"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is." 

"They know about the lunches?" 

His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry." 

You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mm. Can we go home?" 

His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again. 

You watch him drive. 

When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't. 

"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding. 

You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep. 

"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty." 

You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam. 

—

+1 

Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper. 

You can't believe you're here. 

You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.

You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself. 

You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here. 

Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.

His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you. 

All eyes on me. 

You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.

"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen. 

"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you. 

"Don't punish me." 

"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.

And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.

That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing. 

"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur. 

He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine." 

"What part is that, Agent?" 

He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start." 

༺༻

my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥

“i was listening to your heartbeat”

sirius black x gn!reader

tags: fluffy sirius, cute relationship moments 🫶🏽

a/n: SEND ME REQUESTS I BEG<3

sirius knew that he came with trauma and baggage. his life was never easy and before you it was a disaster, you had put him back together, made sure he was eating, that he did his homework or that he made sure to hang out with people he loved.

you were never pushing sirius to do things he didn’t like to do like socializing when all he wanted was to stay in bed, but you were there.

every step of the way.

you stayed in with him when everyone got ready to go to hogsmead because his anxiety bubbled up to the point where he couldn’t breathe.

you stayed with him in the bathroom on the 3rd floor corridors when he got a howler from his mother in the middle of potions.

you visited him the same weekend he arrived at the potters because james sent you a letter about him running away.

you never judged him, it was what made you so comforting to him, he didn’t mean to fall in love with you but it happened.

you were always aware that sirius was one of the most desired people at hogwarts so your surprise when he had told you he liked you of all people had you stuttering in nervousness.

you two had shortly begun to date under the radar just after the start of your 6th year, his friends were the first to find out and slowly but surely people would place two and two together when one of you would show up, the other wouldn’t be far behind.

sirius was a clingy boyfriend, which made you all the more happier, you loved physical affection and whenever sirius couldn’t let go of you it only reassured you that he wanted you.

as you both lay in the marauders dorm, cuddled up in sirius’ bed you can feel his slow breathing on your chest as your play with his hair softly.

you can feel him start to grin and you’re confused before you try to lift his head up.

he slaps your hand teasingly and frowns up at you before laying back on your chest.

“sirius, what in merlin’s name are you doing” you ask confused whilst flicking his nose

“i was listening to your heartbeat dove” he smiles up at you and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love flow through you.

my boy you think to yourself, how lucky must you be to be blessed with this angel of a man.

“i love you sirius orion black” you mutter as you kiss his forehead

“i love you more darling” he smiles and snuggles back into your arms

Left at the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / (Ex-Girlfriend) Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Light Angst; Drama; Getting Left at the Altar (Not by Hangman); Asshole Ex (Not Hangman); Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Description for the Reader

Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

Ever hit rock bottom? Well, you thought you did. And then you got stood up at your own wedding.

Staring up at the altar, you slowly sat down in the front pew. You sat your bouquet down beside you and reached up to pull out the pins holding your veil in place. You definitely weren’t going to need them. Not after the text message that you received from your ex-fiancé.

That’s right. You got dumped on your wedding day through a text message.

And frankly, the part about the whole situation that annoyed you the most was the fact that you should have been the one to dump him. You were the one who threatened to call the wedding off months ago when you found some suspicious text messages between your fiancé and a woman labelled as ‘Domino’s’ in his phone.

As if anyone texted Domino’s about their secluded lake house.

You should have just pulled the plug on the whole thing when you had the chance. Instead, you let him dump and humiliate you publicly.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the small church. Most of the guests filed out when it became apparent that there was a runaway groom. All of the people that remained in the church were a few close friends and immediate family members.

Your ex-fiancé’s family stood awkwardly in the corner, not really sure what to do. There wasn’t a really good or efficient way to apologize for their cowardly bastard of a son without suffering some rather intense glares from your family and friends. You already gave the engagement ring back to your ex-fiancé’s mom, since it was supposedly a family heirloom.

Maybe you should have just flushed it down the toilet instead.

You looked forward again when your mom walked over to you. She gave you a small, comforting smile as she pushed your veil and bouquet to the side and sat down beside you. Your mom stared up at the altar for a moment, seemingly walking through what she was going to say to you. She reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she whispered to you. “You’ll get past this.”

“I know,” you replied, nodding slowly. “I know, Mom.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No,” you replied softly, shaking your head. Letting out a breath, you turned back to your mom with a composed expression. “Why don’t you and everyone else go and eat at the venue? It’d be stupid to let all of that food go to waste. We already paid for it.”

“Actually, his family offered to pay for everything. Even your dress,” your mom explained, glancing over at your supposed-to-be in laws. “They were extremely embarrassed.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you drawled sarcastically, shaking your head. You let out a breath before you turned back to your mom. “Has Dad calmed down?”

“Somewhat. He calmed down a lot when they offered to pay for everything. But I worry for your ex if he ever crosses paths with your father again.”

“If he’s smart—which he’s not—he’ll avoid the entire county,” you replied, pursing your lips together. “He’s probably sitting at his lake house with ‘Domino’s’ right now.”

“That’s unfortunate for him,” your mom told you, causing you to nod in return.

“Damn straight.”

You and your mom shared a small smile before you sobered up for a moment. Glancing around the church, you leaned back in your pew. You turned to your mom and suddenly felt like you were a teenager again and needed her to help you with a situation that you got yourself in.

“Do you think that I could be alone for a bit?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your lap.

“Are you sure? I don’t think that you should be alone right now, sweetheart,” your mom replied, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you just come to the venue with the rest of us? You can burn the dress if you want to, but just come with us.”

“I will, Mom, but I just need some time by myself for a little bit.”

Albeit reluctantly, your mom got up and ushered everyone else out of the church to give you some time alone. The venue was only ten minutes down the road, so your mom told you to just text her when you wanted to be picked up. You thanked her again for all of her help and support before she left with everyone else.

You slowly got to your feet after you thought that everyone else was gone. You let out a breath to calm yourself down and simply worked through some thoughts. Eventually turning for the aisle, you paused when you spotted a familiar figure walking through the church doorway.

Jake Seresin. Or Jacob Michael Seresin III, if you were going by his birth name. Or Hangman, as he supposedly went by these days. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

The boy that you fell in love with when you were fifteen. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first everything, really. The man that, had he stayed in Texas and taken over his family’s business like he was expected to do, you probably would have already married.

But life wasn’t a fairytale. And certainly not your life.

Jake slowly walked further into the church, pulling off his dress white cap as he stepped forward. He tucked it under his arm and offered you a small smile as he stopped in front of you. His hair was perfectly gelled and styled and his dress whites were absolutely pristine. And that genuine smile, the one that he seemed to use less and less as he aged, was just like you remembered.

He looked like he stepped straight out of a dream. Out of your dream.

“I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, looking around the otherwise empty church.

“No,” you scoffed, shaking your head. You glanced up at the rafters before turning back to him. “I got left at the altar.”

Instantly, the kind, genuine smile dropped from Jake’s face. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He frowned and opened his mouth before pausing, most likely trying to not just blurt out the first words that came to mind in a church. But his entire stance looked like he was ready to storm out of the church to drag your fiancé out of whatever hole he was hiding in.

“He didn’t show up?” Jake asked with his voice dangerously low.

“No, he sent me a text,” you explained quietly. Letting out a laugh that was meant to be humorous, but was really rather pathetic in reality, you looked away from Jake for a moment. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him. It could be worse.”

“Where is he then?”

“Somewhere, anywhere,” you replied honestly, pursing your lips together. “Frankly, I never want to see him or hear his name ever again, so I could care less.”

“Still, he shouldn’t get away with doing this to you,” Jake stated seriously.

It had a level of force behind it that you knew wasn’t directed towards you. More like on your behalf than anything else.

Hell, Jake had always been protective over you and more than willing to fight for you. He wasn’t someone who kept a lot of close friends, but when anyone was within Jake Seresin’s inner circle, he would fight for them with everything that he had. And you knew that the state of your relationship didn’t impact that.

“He’s not worth the trouble,” you stated, waving your hand to the side. “And besides, I’d really just like to move on from all of this. If I can.”

“Of course, you can,” Jake spoke softly, reaching out to take your hand. “He’s just a . . . I can’t say the word that I want to say because we’re standing in a church.” You laughed and shook your head at Jake. “But either way, it’s his loss.”

“Thanks Jake.”

“I’m serious. I mean, any guy who looks at you, especially when you’re in that dress . . .” Jake trailed off, letting his eyes rake over your form, “. . . and doesn’t hope to be the guy standing there, waiting for you at the altar . . . he’s not worth your time.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, just like it used to whenever he would wave to you in the hallway between classes when you two were teenagers. And staring into Jake’s bright green eyes, you knew that he meant every word that he spoke. Rocking your joined hands back and forth, you tried to settle the wobble in your lips.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” you stated honestly, causing Jake to noticeably pick his head up. “He . . . I gave into the pressure that I should be married and moving into that stage of my life by now and . . . I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place.”

Jake nodded slowly and turned to look at the ground. A moment passed where he seemed to be trying to compose himself before he slowly picked his head up again.

“Who did you want it to be?” Jake asked softly, so softly that you didn’t hear it the first time.

“What?”

“Who did you want it to be?” he repeated, picking his head up and staring deeply into your eyes. “Waiting for you at the altar, I mean.”

Your breathing subtly picked up and your lips parted a bit at Jake’s question. And the intensity of his stare that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. Slowly and tentatively reaching out, you gently cupped Jake’s cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb across his soft skin.

“My answer hasn’t changed,” you stated quietly as emotion started to clog your throat. “It never has.”

The two of you naturally leaned towards each other. Your bodies seemed to naturally fit together as you pressed up together. The two of you slowly leaned in until your foreheads rested together. And when he was standing this close, you could pick out all of the different colors in his eyes, which were staring down at your lips.

Gently cupping the back of your neck, Jake pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips moved together like they had never been parted in the first place. Not by school or deployments or life in general. For much of your adult lives, the issue was never your feelings for each other but everything else getting in the way. But right there, in that small little church in rural Texas, life wasn’t in the way.

Nothing and no one were in the way. Not anymore.

Jake dropped his hat and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and cupped his cheek once again, guiding your lips together. It probably would have gotten you disapproving looks if anyone else was around, but for that perfect little moment, it was just the two of you.

Pulling away a few moments later, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and smiled to yourselves. Breathing a bit heavily, you trailed your fingers down Jake’s cheeks as he brushed his nose against your own.

“When do you have to leave?” you asked quietly.

“Tomorrow morning,” Jake sighed, clearly sounding disappointed. “I could barely get any time off. I actually owe Coyote a laundry list of things because he covered for me.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” you replied, trying to look on the positive side.

About ten seconds later, you and Jake hurried out of the church hand-in-hand. Jake’s rented truck was the only car in the parking lot and you both quickly made a beeline for it. Jake unlocked and opened the door for you to climb inside. You sat down and Jake hurried to push the rest of your dress inside before shutting the door.

You pulled him in for another excited kiss as he slid into the driver’s seat before Jake started his rented truck to drive the two of you to the hotel. As Jake backed out of the parking lot, you sent your mom a quick text, which was just a simple photo of Jake.

“Do you have the directions to the hotel?” Jake asked, turning back around and heading for the road.

“Yeah and the confirmation, so we can actually check in,” you mused, smiling over at him.

As Jake pulled out onto the road, you got a text back from your mom. You let out an amused noise and shook your head when you read her message.

Don’t forget protection. Or do. I wouldn’t mind a grandbaby if you two agreed on one. Love you!

You sent your mom a quick ‘love you’ text back before turning off your notifications. Jake reached out and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. Jake pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

And even though this wasn’t how you expected your wedding day to go, you had to admit that this outcome was actually far better than the one you that had in mind.

Illness and Comfort |Remus Lupin

Pairing: Remus Lupin x wife!reader

Fluff

Summary: Comforts from the upcoming moon.

Remus Lupin Masterlist

Warnings: pain, sickness, symptoms of being a werewolf, Remus not feeling well enough to get out of bed.

Cariad = love

—————————————

Stepping out of the fireplace with a flash of green you listened curiously to your surroundings. When you saw that Remus was not in his usual chair you worried that he had bed-ridden himself.

Keep reading

hi hi!

can i request a lizzy mcalpine - “daylight, you got me cursing the daylight. daylight you got me calling at all times.” with remus lupin!!!

hate the sun

summary remus hates the sun because of you.

content remus lupin x fem!reader

omg the readmore cut off the end i cant fix it sorry

You’re first to wake up in the morning. You usually are it’s nothing out of the ordinary — most of the time you appreciate the extra time to spend staring at your boyfriend.

You roll over in your spot, careful not to rouse Remus where he’s got his arm thrown over your body. He grunts like you’d expected, though he still sounds as soft as ever, and tugs you closer.

Now turned, so close in his space, you can look at his face. His eyebrows still pinched from your unsettling movements, his lips parted and smooshed against his pillow.

The sun shining through the open blinds casts through his curls until they glow. You raise your free hand and tangle your fingers through the locks that are begging to be tousled. You run your hand along his scalp until your palm comes down to be flush against his cheek. He wrinkles his face, soft cheeks crinkled around his pert nose.

You have to close your eyes lest you do something worse and wake him up.

He eventually does wake and you’re not sure if you’re upset about it or not. You didn’t mean to, really. But now, your boyfriend is up and you can stare at his pretty eyes and chat his head off.

He blinks, smiles softly with creased eyes and even softer lips, and blinks again. He's an image now that he's awake. It's rude how, now that he's got his eyes open and he's looking at you, he looks even worse. Not worse in an embarrassing way, though in a way that has you melting, heart freezing at much you do actually love him.

It's cruel.

Especially when he says, "Morning, dove," in a voice that makes you feel dizzy. Rasped and a bit sticky with early morning fatigue.

"Morning," you manage to say. You try to act as calmly as you can. You're sure he can hear your heartbeat. It's too early for this.

He leans forward and doesn't have to move far to kiss into your hairline. He smells like sleep and your shampoo where he's had his cheek in your hair all night.

Remus likes to act like a morning person. You know he's far from it. You'd stay in bed for as long as he'd like if it meant he was comfortable. Errands can wait. Scrubbing the shower and hanging out your tea towels can wait.

You read him like a book. He says, "We don't have to get up, right?" and you're not surprised.

You shake your head, your nose bumping the soft skin of his bicep. "No," you say quietly, "we can stay here as long as you like."

Remus smiles again and then frowns. "You don't have things to do?"

"Nothing important." You smile back and reach your hand up to his face. You trace his freckles with the edge of your finger, smoothing out his eyebrow and down his jaw. You think you catch him shiver.

"Sure?"

"Positive."

You don't think he believes you. "I hate mornings," he groans. It almost disturbs the little bubble you're both in. Louder than the chirping birds and your stuttered breathing. You don't mind.

"I know, baby," you giggle.

Remus doesn't feel your sympathy. He wraps his arms around you as tight as he thinks you'd like without feeling smothered and tugs you into his chest. You duck your face down and he presses his into the top of your hair.

He breathes you in like it's soothing and then huffs. "I hate waking up. I hate feeling even more tired than I was before I fell asleep. I hate...the sun, god."

"The sun?" you snort, face a little stuffed up by his cotton tee. You lift your head and he doesn't seem to like it.

"Yes," he kisses your forehead and drags his bottom lip upwards to close his mouth. "The sun sucks."

"It does," you try to agree. He laughs.

"It does," he says, "because how am I supposed to keep sleeping with my beautiful girlfriend when the sun blasts through the blind and wakes her up?"

You look at him. He seems so genuine you might cry. He's so lovely in the best ways and you don't know why. "Remus." You might also pass out.

"What?" he chuckles, holding you back. "It's true."

You duck your head back down so he can't see your face. How easily he affects you. He's horrible. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He doesn't sound it. You think he might be smiling.

"Don't hate the sun on my account," you laugh because you can't help it. "That's like, a big thing."

"It is," he hums, letting an arm run down your back and over the sheet that covers your hip. His hands selfish where he searches your bumps and dips with splayed fingers. "But, it's reasonable."

"Yeah?"

"I think I'd go a day without the sun if it meant I could spend more time with you in bed," he says, softly and in a tone that has you fizzling into an even bigger puddle of adoration.

You can't believe he's real. "I think I feel the same way."

He tugs you closer. Hands as tight as they can be around your bicep and your shoulder. Smoothing and searching like he's never held you. Or he won't ever again.

"Let's stay here all day," he suggests.

"Yeah," you say. "I'd like that."

It takes Remus a really long time to admit he needs to use the bathroom before he lets go of you in favour of leaving your bed.

-

let’s hope the end doesn’t get cut off <3

☆ Stay Up With Me [Harry Potter x F! Reader]

Here's a little one for Harry ! I don't think I've ever written for him before, but here goes nothing!

Criticisms and Requests are both welcome! :)

Inspiration Song: Heaven Sent Is a Coffee Cup - Bears In Trees

Genres: Fluff ☆

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

Harry sat quietly in front of the fireplace, a worn and well-used DADA textbook laying open in front of him on the coffee table. Crackling wood overtook the silent air as the moon rose into the sky, casting a dim silver light into the Gryffindor common room. He had been sitting there for hours trying to wrap his head around a new spell, but perhaps it was about time he gave in to the temptation to take a quick break and pay attention to the girl beside him.

Y/N looked up from her parchment and her eyes met Harry's, connecting silently before they exchanged tired smiles. Y/N put down her quill amd shuffled across the sofa to rest her head on Harry's shoulder, hugging his arm as he let his head rest on top of hers. It was moments like this that he was really grateful for- getting to spend the late evenings with her once everybody else had gone off to bed. Without moving Y/N too much, he leaned over to the table and picked up his cup of coffee, bringing it to his lips and taking a fairly long sip of it while it was still somewhat warm, the steam fogging up his glasses a bit before he put the mug back down.

"Think we should call it quits for tonight?" Y/N asked, nuzzling into his shoulder as her eyes drifted shut.

"Yeah, I think we've worked hard enough for one day. How about a game of wizard chess?" Harry suggested, bringing his arm around her and rubbing her arm gently.

"Always." She replied, sitting up and rolling her parchment.

Harry pulled a chess board from beneath the table and set it out, ready to play. It wasn't too long of a game, but the atmosphere was just right. It wasn't uncommon for Y/N and Harry to end their nights with a game of chess- the dim lighting and waving fire made for a romantic setting, not to mention the rare common room silence. Of course, it was just a lighthearted game, and Harry won, being more practiced than Y/N was.

"You've been practicing since last time." Y/N smiled, putting the chess board away.

"Only a little bit, you're still good competition." He nodded, "It's getting late, I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

"Of course!" Y/N yawned, scooting over to give him a peck on the lips, "Goodnight Harry."

"Night, love!" He called as she walked up the stairs to her dorm, himself only following a few minutes behind her.

Y/N found herself laying awake with a view of the ceiling, unable to fall asleep despite her best efforts. She decided she might as well get up and refill her glass of water, walking down the stairs from the dormitories to the common room. When she reached the bottom of the stairwell she saw Harry sitting on the sofa, glass of water in hand while he stared at the fire. The common room was completely empty apart from the two of you. Harry turned his head to see you and smiled with tired eyes.

"Can't sleep?" He asked, patting the empty space next to him.

Y/N shook her head and sat down beside him, leaning into his shoulder and closing her eyes while his arm found its way around her, his hand coming to rub her arm comfortingly. Harry let his cheek rest on her head, gazing off into nothing.

It was the quiet nights you were often the most thankful for, even if the two of you never spoke a word to each other. His presence was relaxing, the way his chest moves with each calm breath, the way Harry would shift his arm ever so slightly to get more comfortable, how we pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Y/N wrapped her arms around Harry and snuggled into him, burying her head into him. The boy turned towards her and in no time at all Y/N found herself laying on top of Harry with his arms around her, her cheek pressed to his warm chest to hear his heart beating rhythmically.

Warmth from the flickering fire added to the cosiness and homely feel that the common room supplies them with; it wasn't long until Y/N felt her eyes beginning to flutter closed. Harry's hand rubbed her back slowly, his own eyes struggling to remain open until he inevitably fell asleep too.

<3

You will be my world.

James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James Potter never liked how the Autumn made everything seems so unsightly and boresome. That was until you steal his heart and make him change his mind about the autumn.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff. A slight mention of the first wizarding war, maybe?

A/N: Actually, my favourite season is spring, but I love the song ''we fell in love in october'' and I just couldn't stop myself from writing this.

James Potter hated autumn.

He loved summer because he could feel the sun kissing his skin and making him feel alive. Spring was the perfect time for him to gift his mom flowers and watch nature's beautiful cycle where animals found their mates. Winter was synonymous with Christmas (James' favourite holiday) and it was when he could play with his parents in the snow.

Autumn was just three months of sheer boredom. Nothing special happened in the Autumn. Everything was so… unsightly.

That was until he met you.

It was the middle of October and James' least favourite season was in full swing. Most of his neighbours were adults without children, leaving him with no one to play with for nine years, but that all changed that year when a moving truck pulled up in front of the house next to his with a car right behind. A couple got out of the car with a… Child.

A child his age.

James immediately turned away from the window and was already pulling on his coat to leave the house to greet you when Fleamont Potter stopped him.

''We live in a Muggle neighbourhood, Jamie, and you still don't know how to control your magic very well. I'll invite them to afternoon tea and we'll find out if they're wizards.''

Thank Merlin they were.

The L/Ns were a Muggle-born couple who met through their work at the Ministry of Magic. Their only child, Y/n, had inherited her parents' magic.

They were a very likeable couple and Fleamont and Euphemia quickly made friends with them.

''It's not dark yet, you could go out and play.'' Mrs L/n suggested.

Of course, James was over the moon to finally have someone to play with, but he felt uncomfortable being alone with you because so far you both only exchanged a ''Hi''.

The square that was a few meters from James' house was pretty empty at this time of day. You noticed that, so you suggested the two of you go over there. James happily agreed, but as soon as you turned your back to go down to the square, James scowled. He never went to the square in autumn precisely because everything was ugly. But he agreed because he wanted to please you so that you would like him and become friends with him.

Apparently, you didn't mind the dead look of the leaves on the trees. On the contrary, you seemed to be… Delighted with them.

''There are so many leaves on the ground! We can make piles of leaves to jump on!'' You suggested excitedly.

The idea didn't seem too unpleasant, so James nodded.

He never knew jumping in piles of autumn leaves could be so much fun.

The feeling of jumping on top of the leaves to feel their slightly hard texture, but not to the point of being uncomfortable, was strangely cool. For some reason, you two couldn't stop laughing and the banter went on for hours but you both could have sworn you were only playing for a few minutes.

When the two of you finally collapsed from exhaustion onto the floor, still giggling like the kids you were, you started moving your arms and legs. James watched you in confusion until he realized you were making an angel out of autumn leaves. He had never seen anything like that, but it looked fun and he decided to imitate you.

''Your angel looks great, Jamie!'' You smiled at him as you two finished your autumn leaves angels.

Tiredness had made your face redder and despite the slightly chilly temperature, there was a little sweat on your skin. your eyes were bright with teasing and your smile was so beautiful that James smiled back without even realizing it.

He hadn't realized what a pretty girl you were until that moment, and he felt like an idiot for feeling his cheeks and the tips of his ears heat up.

The moment was interrupted by James' mother, who said that it was time for you both to go home and that there would be plenty of time to play tomorrow.

James couldn't wait.

***

He had been looking for you all afternoon.

Until he finally remembered about your favourite tree and James felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

There you were, exactly where he'd assumed you would be, sitting against the big oak tree at the back of Hogwarts grounds reading a book.

''This one is new, isn't it?'' James asked, moving closer to you.

At age 13, you were both in the growing-up phase. This meant that James was a lot shorter than you and you never stopped teasing him about it.

''Yes Jamie, I started this one today because I finally finished Animal Farm yesterday.'' You replied, patting the space beside you on the floor for James to sit down.

''What is your new book about?'' He questioned as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He let you talk animatedly about your book while he was lost in thought without you noticing. He admired the orange and red tones of the leaves of the trees that made a strange but beautiful combination. He closed his eyes for a few seconds to feel the wind ruffling his hair even more and letting the slight chill envelop his soul. All this while he enjoyed the sound of his favourite person's voice.

You've been inseparable since that day in 1969. You played together daily. Your families travelled together and you studied at Hogwarts together. You were his best friend and he could never thank you enough for coming into his life and making everything more colourful.

But last week, he overheard a conversation between Dorcas and Marlene (He knew it was wrong to listen to other people's conversations, but the topic really caught his attention).

Dorcas spoke passionately about soulmates. How two people were born to meet and complete each other. How a soulmate could make you see the world more beautiful and make your heart feel at peace just being close to your soulmate. Soulmates could live a thousand lives without forgetting the comfort and love that the other made them feel.

It was then that James Potter knew.

You were his soulmate.

But he was too embarrassed to tell you. He wanted you to think he was cool, just like Peter, Sirius and Remus did.

Maybe you would think he was silly for being so sensitive when it came to you.

But one day he would tell you. You were his safe haven and damn him if he never told you that.

***

A war was approaching.

Very soon, a threat would come to terrorize the wizarding world and James feared for everything he loved daily.

His life, because James had dreams and plans and he wanted to try harder every day to be a better person.

His parents, who always had only given the best for James and provided him with a wonderful childhood that he would always be grateful for.

His friends, who stood by him in the good times and made him come to his senses when he was acting like an idiot. Who made him smile and taught him a lot about life.

You.

He didn't want to think about it too much.

Due to the thousands of thoughts plaguing him, James had been having trouble sleeping properly. Usually, he admired the stars in the astronomy tower, but today he decided to take a different route.

Just to end up finding you.

He knew how the threat to the Muggle-borns lives was being very difficult for you. And despite knowing how strong you were, he desperately wanted to take you in his arms and protect you from the cruel world that didn't understand that you were an extraordinary person who was so much more than a ridiculous blood status.

''Couldn't sleep either, Y/n/n?'' He asked quietly so as not to startle you.

You took a deep breath before answering.

''No, Jamie. I wasn't able to.''

You were sitting on a small hill, which was covered with orange leaves. You repeated your habit of patting the vacant space beside you and James sat down next to you.

''You know I'm going to die before I let anything happen to you or your parents, right?'' He stared at you, his face as serious as ever.

''Don't say that. Please… Don't say that.'' You started to cry.

James pulled you closer and you immediately buried your face in your best friend's chest and wrapped your arms around him.

He rested his chin on your head and stroked your back, letting you get it all out.

When you finally calmed down and pulled back a little (Just enough to look him in the eyes. You weren't quite ready to leave James' arms) before muttering.

''Thank you for always being there for me, Jamie. You're the best.''

Suddenly, the handsome boy with glasses grinned devilishly before attacking you with tickles.

That was a terrible habit he always had. From childhood, he would start tickling you whenever you were feeling down. He had learned to control himself over the years, but that bizarre nature of James was still there.

You immediately broke free of his grasp and started running while laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. James was laughing like crazy as he chased you and unfortunately you didn't stand a chance against him. Now you were both adults and James was much taller and stronger than you.

James threw himself at you, but you tripped and that's how you both ended up on the floor. Your chests pressed against each other and his lips were just inches from yours.

''Y/n/n… Can I kiss you?'' He asked with something glinting in his eyes.

You were completely frozen by the wonderful and at the same time torturous closeness because it still wasn't enough. His hazel eyes has always been your weakness and you could spend eternity admiring James Potter. But a few seconds later, you finally processed the words of his question and responded by pulling him by the back of his neck so that his lips finely met his.

***

If James had told his version of 10 years ago that his favourite season was autumn, little James would have laughed in his face.

But that was an undeniable truth.

He met you in an autumn, fell in love with you in an autumn, finally got to love you in an autumn, and now he was making you his wife.

In an autumn.

Despite all the devastation the war was causing, he found peace and genuine joy today. Watching you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, looking like an angel, while promising to spend the rest of your life with him.

James Potter loved autumn.

And he could never thank you enough for that.