#((i'll answer your ask in a few hours lol))
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@asslover4 replied to your post “rormano aia mgussign yoru form italy and leo are...”:
Omg one of my guesses was right !! (I was leaning more towards Lazio but nvm lmao)
"The Scorpius constellation is just barely out of sight from Lazio--it's much more visible further south in Campania. My middle name was apparently chosen thanks to that the first time I started 'kicking' my mother had been looking at it.
"One might think my name being Romeo would have some connection to Rome but they were merely inspired by the work of Romeo Castellucci." Which resulted in a comically similar name.
#asslover4#present: romeo#((it's all headcanon anyway lol no right or wrong answers until canon says otherwise!))#((so lazio is fine it's just not what this blog goes by haha))#((i'll answer your headcanon question in a few hours because i wanna do it from my laptop where it's easier to go between posts and asks lol#((and right now i'm out of the house for. idk how long.))
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𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ
them forgetting a date night.
starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"
note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe
──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.
the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.
but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?
clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"
you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.
"y/n . . . why did you—"
"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.
for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.
"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"
before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.
"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.
"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."
gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"
"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.
──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.
the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.
walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.
sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.
three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.
maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.
your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.
"what?"
"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."
scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."
you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."
"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.
sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."
you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.
all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.
"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."
dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.
despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.
it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".
wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.
he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."
you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."
toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.
"bye, toji. good luck."
© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru angst#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna angst#sukuna ryomen angst#toji fushiguro#toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji angst#toji fushiguro angst#gojo satoru x female reader#sukuna ryomen x female reader#toji fushiguro x female reader
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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr
“No.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”
“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh.
A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year.
But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.
Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement…
“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”
And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?”
That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive.
“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”
“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.
However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”
“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer.
Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”
No words, only tapping keys.
“Y/n?”
The keys become louder.
“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?”
Louder.
“Y/n!!”
A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.
The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”
You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.
“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”
“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”
You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?”
“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”
You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”
“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.”
You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…
After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry.
“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty.
“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?”
“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”
“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…
Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”
“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. ��No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”
The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.
“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.
"I know you are."
"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”
A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.”
No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”
You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”
“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”
“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”
You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.
“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“
“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”
“…….Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“
“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”
Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”
“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”
Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye.
You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets. Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.
….Three Hours Later….
The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed.
Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up.
The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.
What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?
“Ah, look who’s awake.”
You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.
Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!
Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.”
A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”
“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.”
Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further.
“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”
He? Wait, wait, we??
The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?”
You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”
It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.
“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.”
You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?”
The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?
“…Yes, I do.”
“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”
Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”
He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.”
The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”
“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.
“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”
You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”
Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.”
“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.”
So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life!
You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!
“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.”
Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!
“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”
“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.”
Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!”
Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.
“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going.
As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.
So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night.
Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can.
“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”
You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck.
Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you.
“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished.
He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like.
Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”
“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…
He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.”
Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt.
It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”
“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock.
And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!
“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment.
Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”
When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!
“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!
…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.”
With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time.
It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!
“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”
Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.
“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”
You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…
Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?
You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.
A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body.
And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.
Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡
Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?
Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened.
You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…
However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents.
And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.
Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.
SR + TF
♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
#𝑯𝒐��𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#toji smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen smut#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic
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"CINDERELLA 🛍️" - RIO X READER
Authors Note: Inspired by this ask, i've come to deliver 'sweet' Rio. Let me know how I did lol.
Summary: This ones fluffy 🐻 🐻 🐻, when boyfriend Rio hears you celebrating your friend getting spoiled by her man he has questions and answers.
Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader
Word-Count: 1.2K
Full Masterlist
RIO MASTERLIST
Sitting in your backyard you laugh sitting forward as you take a break from your book. You slide back on the recliner to get a better look.
“Eeeeeeeee” you squeak, looking at the haul in front of your best friend.
“I know right!” She smiles wide eyed.
“I can’t believe it! You need to come over and see” she laughs hand to head in disbelief as you talk on FaceTime.
“Trust me, I’m coming” you nod sipping your morning green juice.
“Okay, yes! Come over, I'll order pastries and we can play dress up.” She proposes.
“Okay!” You smile hanging up to head back inside. You head to your bedroom to find something to wear and then into the bathroom to get ready. You’re nearly finished when Rio appears in the doorway.
“Morning, you’re up early” he says, kissing your temple and pulling you into a hug.
“Morning baby, I’m headed over to my bestie's place.” You smile.
“What do you two have going on?” He asks as you finish your hair, always curious, always protective.
“She’s seeing this guy who … oh my gosh! Babe you should see it. He bought her like three designer bags, and cleared out her shopping carts for Amazon and another site.” You smile but Rio doesn’t. He doesn’t like the excitement you carry while talking about another man.
“Sure it’s all real?” Rio says and you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be a hater” you mumble, casting a disappointed look over your shoulder.
“When are you coming back home?” Rio asks, looking you over.
“We just need an hour or two,” you shrug.
“Are all the girls gonna go?” he asks.
“Don’t know but I’d assume her sisters are coming too.” You explain. Nodding Rio takes your chin giving you a kiss to love on you. He never lets you leave his sight without giving you affection, it's something about him that you love. When he pulls away your eyes open to find him taking your expression in before he steals a few more quick kisses, holding you against him.
“Come back around 4” he says into your hair.
“Okay” you nod. “Need anything while I’m out!”
“I’m good, have fun with your friends.” Rio says, letting you go.
Rio’s always admired how you speak about the people you love. You never hate, you’re such a good person you don’t take your friends’ excitement and milestones as bragging or showing off and you’re not a jealous person. Yet, you never brag about yourself.
“I will” you smile but he doesn’t leave. “What?”
“Nothing, I just didn’t know you like designer” he shrugs looking you over with folded arms.
“It’s pretty, I can appreciate it” you shrug.
“How come you don’t have any bags?” He asks.
“Can’t justify the expense. I don’t dress up or go out enough” you tell him honestly. You’re the inside friend. The green juice over tequila friend. The Pilates and picnics over clubs and vip sections. You aren’t above the latter but it just isn’t you.
“Makes sense,” he nods. “Want me to drop you off?” He asks.
“Sure”
“Bet, I’ll be in the car” he mutters, patting your butt as he leaves you to it. You’re out in five minutes. Rio gets your door, always the gentleman. The drive is short and you give him a quick kiss before you’re off.
———
You walk out to Rio’s car giddy. Girls' time is much needed. Nothing is better than hearing about when your friend’s man has done well. You prefer it infinitely to the contrary.
“Hey” you smile leaning over the console to give him a kiss.
“Have fun?” he asks.
“Yep, she’s happy and I love that for her.” You tell him. Rio nods not giving a fuck about your friends one way or another.
“I gotta pick up a few things before we head back to the house,” he says.
“Ok” you nod powering up your kindle for the ride. Rio smiles watching as you read.
“Are you reading some shit we can get into later?” He teases. You blush and he laughs.
“Maybe I don’t know yet?” You respond. He gets a call from his cousin Nick and you tune it out noting the hostility in his tone. You figure the pick-ups are for Nick but when the car stops at the high end shopping plaza in your city you’re confused. You follow him into Hermes.
“Called ahead, booked the private room with my girl. Gave the sales associate her sizes,” he says as you look down at your yoga outfit, glancing at your casual hairstyle in the mirror horrified.
“Baby” you quip just above a whisper.
“You look beautiful,” Rio responds, kissing your temple.
“Right this way” the associate smiles, taking you into a room. You see sandals, bags and a picnic basket on the table. Along with comfortable seating, mirrors and champagne. “I’ll leave you to it,” she smiles.
“Rio” you sigh, heart racing.
“Don’t start mama. If I want to do something nice for my girl, I can.” He says with defiance seated.
“But baby, I can’t return the favour” you pout looking at all the luxury items around you. Rio pulls you in wrapping his arms around your waist as he looks at you from the elevated seating.
“You keep my head clear, you don't stress me out, you take care of me and don't ask for shit. It’s priceless” he explains. You smile feeling appreciated and he smirks. “Go one have fun!” he nudges.
“I love you Christopher” you giggle holding his hands.
“Love you too” he responds. You look at a few of the sandals wincing at the price. You look at the picnic basket and see it’s like $20k.
Gasping you look at him. “Rio this stuff is seriously too expensive.”
“Money isn’t a problem,” he reminds, picking up a sandal. You sit overwhelmed.
“Rio people have real life problems and I’m walking around with a bag that’s worth a car?” you question the ethics and implications of these kinds of wealthy displays.
“Well look at that Cinderella” he teases. It’s a perfect fit. You smile admiring the design elements. It’s your style and the colour compliments your skin tone. “The purses can fit everything, shoes you can wear anywhere, and there’s no monogram.” He explains and you pause relenting when you see he won’t drop it. You accept his generosity allowing yourself to accept the grandiose gifts. Your heart races as you turn back to the bags. You pick up a bag in your favourite colour and one in black. He buys you a couple of sandals and you leave the overpriced picnic basket knowing it’s highly likely to be stained or damaged. The total of everything makes your heart race but Rio doesn’t flinch paying with a smile. An associate boxes everything up and places them into the trunk of Rio’s car for you.
“Thank you” you smile giving him a kiss.
“You clap for everyone around you, sit back and let me take care of you alright?” He asks, holding your gaze calmly. It makes you a little misty eyed. Rio chuckles, giving you a peck.
“Big baby,” he says, pulling out and heading home. Rio helps you arrange your closet with your new things and you show him some appreciation in the shower. You're all ready for bed when you get a facetime call from your bestie. Rio sees it first.
“Make me sound good, yeah?” he teases, stepping out and you laugh answering with a smile before bragging on your man.
_______
Authors Note: You know the drill, don't forget to like comment and reblog. Let me know how I did in the replies. I have so much fun writing for Rio's smartass.
#rio good girls fanfiction#rio good girls imagine#rio x you#rio good girls#rio x reader#good girls rio#good girls imagine#masterlist#manny montana fanfiction#manny montana x reader
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Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like
Dean: Hey baby
Reader: She's busy
I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭
Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850
Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.
Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.
They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.
Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.
Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?
A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.
Yeah, just getting a few things.
Dean rolled his eyes. Right.
For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?
Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.
Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.
Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lebanon, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.
He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.
But...you didn't answer when he called.
Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.
Hey, baby. You up?
He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...
She's busy.
Dean frowned. What the hell?
Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?
But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.
Stop messing around.
Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."
She'll call you back, dude.
Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.
What the fuck is this?
She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.
All right. WHO is this?
Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.
A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.
Then he responded.
Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.
Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.
"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.
"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.
"You make it too easy," you replied.
He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.
Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.
"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"
"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.
"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.
That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"
For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.
In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.
Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)
Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.
"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.
"When are you getting home?" you asked.
He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.
"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."
"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."
He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.
"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.
Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.
He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?
...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.
"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."
"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.
"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."
And she's about to get punished.
The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!
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hey lovie! what about a remus x reader where he sees her asleep in the back of the library one evening on his prefect rounds and he wakes her up. he is more concerned on how long she’s been studying/asleep since it’s so late…on their walk she just walks with him during his rounds because they are just chatty
they both fancy each other but neither of them think the other thinks the same. he walks her back to gryf tower snd he finally says what he’s wanted to say for years
(i hope that makes sense and if ya hate the idea, no problemo lol)
xoxo
Hii lovely🥰 ty for the request. I tried my best, hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n, like one swear word, (0.9k)
Remus has seen you many times before. Either in the common room, halls, dining room, and the most in the library.
Remus always sees you in the library. Sitting quietly more at the back of the room. Either reading some book or doing the assignments for the classes.
So it's no surprise to see you here even now. But it definitely catches him off guard seeing you here so so late. Remus was on the last one of his prefect rounds before heading to bed himself, and he wasn't expecting to see you in the library.
Remus, from a shorter distance, notices that you are asleep. Softly exhaling one breath after another. Something stirs in Remus's heart at the sight of you, but he ignores it.
Remus approaches you, and tries to wake you up as nicely as he can. He doesn't want to scare you. He gently shakes you by your shoulder, and whispers your name a few times.
You rouse from sleep, blinking, completely baffled by Remus's handsome face.
Remus thinks you are even more cute when you are half asleep. It's not doing any favors to his feelings for you. But he wills those thoughts away, and says, "sorry, y/n. You fell asleep in the library, and it's getting pretty late."
The sleep haze quickly dissappears when you realise where you are. You are up on your feet in a matter of seconds, packing your things away.
"Shit. I'm sorry. I was reading, and-and I must have fallen asleep," you explain in a mild panic. You would be in a lot of trouble if it was anybody else other than Remus that had found you here. Students aren't allowed out of their dorms this late at night.
"It's alright," Remus reassures you with a warm smile," I've done that so many times. I can't even count how many times James or Sirius had to walk down here to retrieve me."
"Really?" you giggle quietly, still very much sleepy and a little stressed.
"Yeah, really," Remus chuckles, too. "Now c'mon, let's get you to your dorm. I'll walk you there. Well, that is if you don't mind."
You shake your head. Indicating that you don't mind at all. Your cheeks go pretty pink as Remus and you start to walk towards the dorms.
You've always thought that Remus was so handsome, and so so smart. You'd never done anything about your crush, of course. Too scared to say anything. But that doesn't mean you haven't been admiring him. You have just-........from afar.
"Why were you in the library so late?" Remus asks to fill in the awkward quiet between you. And also he's a bit worried about you staying there until so late.
"Just studying, I couldn't figure out one assignment," you sigh. You still haven't figured it out, even if you stayed in the library for so many hours.
"The one for the potions?"
"Yeah," you admit in defeat," I've read everything I possibly could, but still i didn't find the answer."
Remus gives you a hesitant smile. You two are just a few steps from the dorms. You were walking too long in the awkward silence, and now the flowing conversation is about to end.
"I can give you the answer. I'll give it to you right away if you give me a second to look for it in my room," Remus instantly offers.
He's spent good few hours trying to find the answer too, so he understands how frustrating it can get. So he's very willing to give you the answer just so you don't go to bed with that on your mind. And also because he likes you, like a lot, and he would give you literally anything if you'd asked for it. He's down that bad for you.
"Really? I would really appreciate it, Remus," you say, happy about his help. You can't even think of how you could possibly thank him for it.
"Just give me a second," he turns towards his dorm, but he suddenly freezes halfway to the door.
Remus abruptly gets a better idea or well it depends on how well it goes. He just can't help his feelings for you any longer, and he needs to know what you feel, too. Even if he may get rejected, and end up with a broken heart.
Remus slowly turns around to face you again, a shy smile on his face.
"Or-r," he starts," we could go to Hogsmeade during the weekend, and I could explain it to you there. With something nice to eat and drink." Remus blurts it out in one breath.
Your eyes go very wide. Is Remus Lupin asking you out on a date or are you still very much asleep in the library, dreaming of this moment?
"L-like a date?" you sheepishly ask, blushing, and looking everywhere but him after your question.
"Yes. Exactly like a date." Remus states, looking nervous and hopeful at the same time.
You look up at him with a smile, you can't really believe that this is happening, " I think, I'd love that."
"Really?" Remus questions happily.
"Yes, really," you nod your head, sending a reassuring smile his way.
"Great. I can't wait," he tells you with a visible excitement.
"Me too," you admit bashfully.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. We can sort out the time then. Goodnight, y/n," Remus says, giving you one more soft smile of his.
"Yes, tomorrow then. Goodnight to you too, Remus," you wave him goodbye, and quickly dissappear into your dorm before you can collapse on the spot from the way your legs have turned to jello.
You think you can hear pretty loud cheers of the Marauders as you head to change into your pyjamas. A shy giggle escapes your mouth when you think about Remus telling his best mates about your date, and them being so happy about it.
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin
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short hurt/comfort blurb
summary: reader is taken as hostage, Red Hodd comes to save her (roughly I'll write a better summary later lol)
wc: 2k
warnings: fem!reader, pre-established relationship ,reader being kidnapped (duh) and drugged, one nasty comment from the intentionally vague bad guy, mentions of blood, lots of violence, guns, etc, etc. (not beta read as always, so ill fix typos tomorrow lol) and non sexual nudity !
a/n: lowkey hate how this turned out, but have this as I'm finishing an actual fic.
You were cold, you have been cold for a while now. You don't know how long it's been or why you were kidnapped to begin with. They've always kept you in the same dark room, there are no windows and no light except for the one that shines through the space between the door and the floor. Your hands were chained in front of you to the floor, and they left some fabric tied around your mouth to keep you from screaming. Not like you had any strength in you to even do anything but hope and pray Jason could find you soon. You discarded the theory of it being human trafficking after the first few hours since they never touched you. In fact, you hadn't even seen the face of your captors. You've only heard faint voices in the distance, just enough to identify their accent but not enough to decipher what they said.
Or that was until you heard an argument right outside the door. One man, who sounded older, was chastising the other. You hear the words "die" and "overdose", but it is hard to keep your focus. Your own thoughts feel slow, having come to the realization way too late that they'd probably drugged you, and that's why your body felt so heavy. Then the door opens, and you have to close your eyes because it feels like the light is burning them. You barely manage to move your head away when some hands grab your shoulders. They sit you on the floor and shake you, and you want to react, but your body's barely able to move on its own.
"Kid? You alive?" One of them asks, and when they get no answer, they resort to shaking you harder. When that doesn't work either, a heavy hand delivers a hard slap to your face.
To that you finally let out a pained grunt, and you blink slowly until you open your eyes. The younger one sighs in relief, and the older says something about their boss killing them if you were dead. That leads you to believe you were there for a reason, maybe they found out you technically work with Red Hood and they're using you to get to him. Or worse, they found out you were dating.
"That's it, stay awake" He lays you down on the floor again.
"What are we doing this for?" The younger one asks. He looks on edge, shaky with nerves. It may be his first time henching, or so you could guess.
"Dunno, boss told us to keep an eye on her until he needs her"
You're left again in the dark before you can even process what they looked like. And you're slightly grateful for it, at least your head didn't feel like exploding once they shut the door again. It feels like an eternity passes while you're still in that room. So you try to notice all the details you can, there's no traffic noise or any other type of noise for that matter. Once you get used to the dark, you also see the small puddle forming from the leak coming through the ceiling. Then you also try to remember how you got there, you were leaving... someplace, it's all fuzzy. But you do remember the hard blow to your head, and then waking up here.
You guess it must have been a couple of hours, that just felt longer to you, when you hear some commotion outside. Running, and clicking, probably from loading guns. The gunshots came later, and did not stop for long. The noise was incessant, along with yelling and words you couldn't make out. You weakly managed to curl up and cover your ears with your hands. And you stay tense in that position until you hear the creak of the door once more. You don't dare to move even when you hear the footsteps getting closer to you.
"Not a step closer" A man grabs your hair, pulling you up, and pressing the nuzzle of his gun to your temple. It feels hot against your skin, almost burning, so you could only assume it's been fired recently. You finally lay your eyes on Jason, or rather Red Hood, he's covered in blood, and you could swear his eyes were shining red under the hood and domino mask.
"Let her go" He's practically barking, you know he gets like this when he's scared. He starts attacking even when he's backed against a corner. You wouldn't notice, but he immediately recognized your lost gaze and weakened mobility. It was like seeing his mother all over again. And that, along with the red imprint across your face, made him even angrier.
"You sure she only works for you?" He taunts, and before Jason can do anything, he presses the gun harder into you as if daring him to try to make a move. "'cause if I had such a hot piece of ass on my payroll..."
You close your eyes tightly, tears falling from them. You're sure you hear Jason replying, telling him off, but you're too scared to pay attention to anything but the metal on your skin. That is until he uses it to push down the fabric against your mouth, he probably asked you something you didn't listen to.
He laughs, and adds: "Maybe my guys gave her a little too much to keep her calm"
Jason is about to explode with anger, the way he talks about you, and what he's done to you. The way he so easily messed with his people, his territory, and with his partner out of everyone. He'll make sure to make an example out of him for anyone who decides to mess with him in the future. So when the man pulls the trigger, only for a click to come out of his weapon, you let out a sigh in relief. And Jason charges at the guy, dragging him away from you and out of the room to deliver the beat down of his life. Hitting as hard as he could until he made sure the guy would stop breathing, and making it as painful as possible. Then, for good measure, he empties what's left of his magazine on his head and multiple parts of his body. The body's beaten beyond recognition, and now he's got even more blood splattered over him. But him, and everyone who works for him, were now dead, so at least you could rest assured no one could harm you and go unpunished.
He goes back, only to find you curled up once more, and holding your head. You flinch when his hand touches you, but he tries not to take it personally, he reminds you it's him and that you're okay as he unties the black bandanna pulled down on your neck. He removes the muzzle from his face and pulls down the hood when you raise your head to look at him, giving you a reassuring nod.
"Get me out of here" You beg, pulling on your chains. He nods, picking the lock as quick as he can. You cling to him once you're freed, and he notices how despite your effort, your grip is weak. Even when you pull on his clothes to get him close enough to kiss him.
He freezes for a second before tightly holding the back of your head with one hand, the other resting on your back to support you. He shouldn't, he should stop you and tell you to do this when you're in the right head space so he wouldn't feel as if he was taking advantage of you. But being so close to losing you, he can't find the will to tell you no. And he melts into your lips, red smearing both of you now. Violence is rewarded with affection, that's a first for him. You don't seem to care about what he's done to get to you, all that matters is that he did, and now you're with him.
"I'll take you to the ER" He runs his hand up and down your back to soothe you, but you start sobbing into his blood-soaked clothes anyways.
"No, no, please," you shake your head "I just wanna go home"
He agrees with just a nod, picking you up as he tries to shield you from seeing the bloodbath he left on his way to you. If anyone knew how to take care of a person in your state, it'd be him. The gruesome scene and trail of bodies were bound to get him in deep family trouble, but he couldn't seem to care about it. Not when it assured your safety. Once he's made sure you're holding tightly and buckled your helmet right, he speeds to his nearest safe house. Regretting getting there in his bike instead of a car, even if it allowed him to get there faster.
"I know you said home, but I can't risk anyone following-" He rambled while taking off your helmet.
"I get it" You cut him off, trying your best to smile and not look like you were about to throw up.
He's quiet leading you up to the apartment, it's an old building and it looks more or less abandoned. That's probably why he picked it, no nosy neighbors. The place is on the first floor, luckily since it had no elevator. Even though he still carried you up the stairs, and only set you down when you were in the bathroom.
"Right, I'll wait outside " His eyes avoid you as he leaves some clean towels near the shower.
"Wait,"Your voice is meek, almost scared. You stop him from leaving by hooking a finger on one of his belt loops "stay with me, what if I pass out?"
He nods, helping you pull up your shirt. You look up at him, not uttering a word but willing him to take the mask off. Luckily, he understands your staring and does so, leaving it on the floor next to your discarded clothes. Then he kneels in front of you, pulling your pants down, and you hold onto his shoulders as you step out of them. You mouth a quiet thank you when he looks up to you, right before he leaves a soft kiss on your hip and then on your stomach. His grip on your waist feels desperate, clinging not to let you go ever again.
"I'm okay," You reassure, but when his eyes meet yours again, they're brimmed with tears. You untie the bandages around his forearms, guiding him to take his clothes off too.
Jason's trying really hard not to cry right now, and you know it so when you walk in the the shower you turn your back to him to give him some space. But don't fail to notice how the water running down the drain turns red when he kisses the top of your head and stays close to you. He does a great job of gently cleaning you up, and so do you, washing the blood off him once you do turn around. You don't say anything about it or the bruised knuckles or any other bruise for that matter. He's thankful for that, thankful he didn't lose you or that you haven't opposed his methods. You stay under the warm water for a little longer after you're done, holding on to him and breathing slowly as his hand soothes you by tracing circles on your back.
"Jay?" You look up to him.
"Hm?"
"It's not your fault"
"I know," He replies, and you immediately think liar, you do think it's your fault. But don't have the will to argue with him, yet, so you settle for leaving a kiss on his bicep. "You wanna go to bed now?"
"You'll lay down with me?" He hums in response, closing the faucet behind you.He wraps you in a surprisingly soft and warm towel, then helps you dry off and put on some of the spare clothes he kept there. For the rest of the night, he'd watch you until you get down from whatever they gave you, make sure you don't stop breathing or choke on your own vomit. He'd worry and insist on breaking up tomorrow when you feel better and have the strength to argue and call him an idiot for it, when you are able to think better than him and insist you'd always be safer with him rather than without him.
#short blurb->is 2k words long#jason todd x reader#w: jason#jason todd x reader fluff#red hood x reader
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✩₊˚.⋆☾ BALANCED - osamu miya
CW: usage of the petname 'baby' and 'pretty', fluff, maybe a bit of 'angst' if you wanna call it that lol, fem reader (she/her) Word Count: 1.4k
“when will you come by, samu?”
“soon, baby. within another hour, i'll be on my way, okay?” his tone was breathy, and y/n inferred he’d stepped away from a busy situation to answer her call. with the weekend approaching, his shop was bound to be bustling. “what’s wrong?” he asked. after hearing only silence from her end, his breathing slowed.
y/n hesitated before responding, “nothing, but okay, i’ll see you later.”
he sighed at her evasion but chose to let it be.
“baby, i'll be home before you know it. you should take a nap to pass the time. you sound tired anyway.”
y/n nodded despite his inability to see her, and when his name was called faintly in the background, she muttered a quick goodbye before ending the call.
with the line dropped, y/n turned off her phone and tossed it to the other side of the sofa. she was genuinely thrilled for her boyfriend’s burgeoning business, but his infrequent visits were beginning to weigh heavily on her.
she hadn’t realized how much time they used to spend together until it started dwindling. whether it was her busy schedule maintaining her grades or osamu's increasingly tight schedule, their communications, though frequent, were beginning to fail in filling the void. nothing could replace the comfort of physical presence, especially when it came to osamu.
she stood up and decided to heed his advice to take a nap. after all, what else was there to do? her friends were occupied with work or their own classes, she’d finished her studying for the day, and she had no errands left. all she truly craved was relaxation, but for that to be possible, she needed the presence of the person she loved beside her.
her phone vibrated in her hand, and she checked the message from her boyfriend.
samu 🩶 -> ‘i know this is terrible timing, pretty, but i might be getting home a bit later than planned. i need to pick up a few supplies for tomorrow. we’re running low.’
she couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes, blurring her vision. she wasn’t sure if her reply made sense, but she was beyond caring.
y/n -> ‘okay. be safe.’
she set her phone down on the nightstand and rested her head on her pillow. it had been a long, arduous week, and all she needed was him.
---
osamu hurriedly hung his hoodie by the door as he called out for y/n. her silence worried him. he had informed her of a late return, but the exact time had been unclear. he intended to be home three hours ago, but unforeseen circumstances had delayed him. he took steps up the stairs cautiously and gently pushed open the door.
there, y/n lay on their bed, her back turned to him. he called her name, and she stirred in her sleep, prompting him to sit on the edge of the bed. it was dim in the room, but he noticed the dampness of her pillow and her swollen eyes. his heart ached as he placed his palm against her cheek.
her eyes fluttered open, and they widened upon seeing his familiar face. she sat up as he settled on the bed, and she enveloped him in a tight hug.
“were you crying, baby?” he asked, wanting to pull away to see her face, but her embrace was firm, and honestly, he never wanted to leave it.
she mumbled a soft “no,” but the tremor in her voice revealed the truth.
“yeah, you were. look at your eyes…” he finally managed to view her features when she reluctantly released him. “i’m so sorry for being away for so long. why didn’t you tell me you were going through a rough patch?”
“you were busy with the shop and so happy that things were picking up. i’m happy for you too. so much,” she said, using the sleeves of her hoodie to wipe her tear-streaked cheeks.
“there’s a ‘but’ in there, isn’t there?” he asked, reaching for both of her wrists to gently pull them from her face.
“but,” she exhaled, meeting his gaze before looking down at her lap, “i don’t just want you to be here, i need you to be here. nothing is enjoyable without you anymore.” she frowned. osamu smiled and placed a tender kiss on the top of her head, then on her lips.
“i understand, baby. but listen to me.” his hand cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his warmth. “i will drop everything in a heartbeat if it’s you who needs me, okay?” he stated. she nodded and drew herself closer, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. even the slightest trace of it brought her a sense of tranquility and comfort.
osamu wrapped his arms around y/n, holding her close. the weight of her words and the tears she had shed made him realize just how deeply his absence had impacted her.
“i’ve been so focused on making things work at the shop that i didn’t see how much you were struggling,” he admitted softly. “i promise i’ll make it up to you. we’ll find a way to balance this better.”
y/n nestled her head against his shoulder, her breathing slowly evening out. “i know you’re working hard, and i appreciate it. i just want to feel like i’m a part of your life, not just a contact on your phone.”
“of course you are,” osamu reassured her. “you’re my whole world. we’ll figure it out together, okay?”
he gently rocked her back and forth, his touch soothing her. after a few minutes, he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “how about we make some plans for the weekend? no work, no distractions, no studying.”
y/n’s eyes brightened at the idea, her sadness dissolving in the warmth of his gaze. “that sounds amazing, but time won’t stop just because we want to spend time together."
osamu smiled, his heart swelling with relief. he leaned in to kiss her forehead, then her lips again, as if to vow never to let her feel this way again. “you’re right, time won’t stop, but we can make every moment we have together count. let’s focus on the time we do get and make it special. we’ll find our balance, and until then, i promise to make the most of every second i can spend with you.”
as they settled back into their embrace, y/n felt a renewed sense of comfort. the weeks ahead might still be busy, but knowing osamu was committed to making time for her eased her worries.
with osamu by her side, y/n drifted off to sleep, feeling more at peace than she had in days.
“i’ll make sure we always have these moments. you mean everything to me, baby.”
this was written for a certain someone lmaooo
ty for reading! leave a like to show support :D
tag: @lifesucksweswallow & @powpowboom
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Home for the Holidays (Alexia Putellas x Reader ficlet)
18. "cancelling all other plans so they can spend the entire holidays together."
Hope you don't hate me for being a few weeks late. This one's not the best but covid really took me out. Merry Christmas, dear friends. I hope 2024 is full of magic for you all.
"Are you excited to go visit your family for Christmas?" Lola asked you at the end of the last training before Christmas. This was your third year in Madrid and every Christmas, you left Spain to visit your family in Denmark. You usually looked forward to the time with them since you didn't get to go home often.
"Yeah!" you lied. "We're going to make cookies like we do every year and I've been on a crafting kick, so I made a bunch of pinterest-y crafts to give them." You hadn't told anyone but you were dreading going home this year. Not because you didn't love your family but because you didn't want to leave Alexia alone. Her mom and sister had gone on a vacation for a week to Japan and due to a volcanic eruption, they had gotten stuck there. So far, there was no news on whether they'd make it back this weekend for Christmas.
Not that anyone knew you and Alexia were dating. That you wanted to throw your traditions to the wind and start building new ones with Alexia.
"When do you leave?"
"In the morning. I have the first flight out at 6am."
"That's too early," Lola said, fake shuddering. "Merry Christmas, Y/N," she said, picking up her bags. "I hope you have a great time."
"Thanks, Lol. Merry Christmas." You smiled warmly at her as she walked away. You finished packing your bag and walked out to the parking lot. On the drive back to your apartment, you tried calling Alexia. They had finished training for two weeks yesterday and had a team Christmas party tonight. It surprised you to get her voicemail. Hanging up, you sighed, hoping she was alright. She loved Christmas normally and you knew it was incredibly hard for her to be without her family.
Once you were home, you turned on all the Christmas lights you'd put up. Bright colors and twinkly white lights illuminated your home, bringing a huge smile to your face. The Christmas tree in the corner was filled with the ugliest ornaments you could find. Garlands and tinsel were hung over every window. The older you got, the more time you spent away from home, the more you reveled in tacky Christmas décor.
An hour later, you were curled on the couch with a large bowl of soup, a cheesy Christmas movie on the television, and your puppy sprawled out next to you on the couch. As the couple on the screen slowly fell in love, your mind drifted to the woman you loved. And you started to plan. There was no way you could leave her alone at Christmastime. The thought of her alone dampened all your Christmas spirit.
The next morning, you packed up your bags and the puppy and made your way to the train station. When you should have been touching down in Copenhagen, you were stepping off the train in Barcelona. Although Zazu had only been to Barcelona once, he led you right to her apartment, tugging you along behind, anxious to see Alexia. You had a key to her apartment but this surprise felt worth knocking and waiting for her to open the door, so you kept it tucked away in the side pocket of your backpack.
She answered, a hoodie pulled down over her forehead, hair that had escaped her bun poking out around her face. The initial frown she had at being awoken broke into a smile and then tears.
"Oh, honey." You stepped into her and wrapped your arms tight around her. She burrowed her head into your shoulder, making her hood fall off. Zazu jumped onto both of your legs, barking in excitement.
"I needed you. And here you are," she whispered.
You brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "Come on. I'll make you some breakfast."
She hugged you from behind while you made food for both of you. Her arms tightened when you started pulling plates out of the cabinet. All you could do was giggle. Hungover Alexia was always so cuddly. Sad Ale was clingy. This Alexia was a combination of both of them.
“Are you going to let me go so we can sit at the table or do you want to sit on the couch?”
“Couch,” she mumbled.
"Carry this for me," you said, handing her one of the plates. You picked up the empty plate and took her free hand in yours for the short walk to the couch. Zazu had made himself comfortable on one end. His tail wagged excitedly when you walked closer to him. Skirting the coffee table, you put your plate down and then took Alexia's to set down. Sitting, you pulled her down next to you, letting your thigh rest against hers. Picking up her plate, you handed it to her. "Here you go, babe," you said gently.
You ate in silence, enjoying each other's presence after all these weeks apart. After breakfast, you both took a lazy shower. You washed her hair for her and let your hands wander. She told you she was beginning to feel half human by the time you got dressed. She asked to go for a walk with Zazu and you gladly agreed. After sitting on the train all morning, you needed some fresh air and exercise.
As you walked down the street towards Alexia's favorite coffee shop, you looped your arm through hers. Barcelona at Christmastime was a magic and you felt like you were walking in a dream. Zazu tugged excitedly at the leash even though he didn’t know where you were going. Multiple times, Alexia had to tug the leash to bring him back to the correct direction.
You took your coffees to the park, so Zazu could run freely for a bit. You cuddled up next to Alexia on the bench. The wind had picked up and you hadn't worn enough layers. She took her hat off and pulled it down over your ears.
"Thank you." You'd also made the mistake of getting an iced coffee. But when he said their special was an iced cardamom lavender latte, you couldn't resist it. It was also so good that you couldn't stop drinking it, despite how cold you were.
"So, what time do you leave for home?" she asked suddenly.
"I have a flight this evening." You traced small patterns on her arm.
"Today?" she asked sadly. "That's so soon."
"I know. I know. My mom was very annoyed that I pushed it even that long."
"Well, I'm really glad you were able to make this pitstop." She kissed your cheek, letting her lips linger a second longer than she should have in public. "I hated the idea of being alone."
"I hated the idea of you being alone too. Which is why I booked two tickets from here to Copenhagen. If I have to go home, you're coming with me."
"What?" she asked, sitting back in shock.
"Come with me," you said, taking her hand in yours. "I want to show you my life in Copenhagen. I want to wake up with you on Christmas morning."
"You're adorable." Throwing her arms around, she pulled you close. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."
"Merry Christmas, Ale." Before putting your arms around her, you let your fingers dance over the little velvet box in your pocket. Christmas in Copenhagen wasn't the only surprise waiting for Alexia this year.
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Beyond The Bounty
(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)
SUMMARY | When you get caught by Seonghwa, the bounty hunter, for the hefty bounty on your head, you can't help but want to know his story. PAIRING | Seonghwa/Reader GENRE | bountyhunter!Seonghwa, cowboy!Seonghwa, outlaw!Reader, off to the wild west we go, smut with no plot, uprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), first time, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, praising, pet names RATING | Mature LENGTH | 7026 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | They fit the cowboy concept so well. Plus I watched too much westerns the past few days LOL. I actually couldn’t decide which member would suit this story so I let a name pick generator decide haha. And Seonghwa it is~
There was no point in struggling. No point in trying to escape when your hands and feet were tied by the harsh ropes. All you could see was the passing terrain of dirt and grass.
Your body was aching from the uncomfortable position you had been bound in. The bounty hunter that caught you didn't even give you a horse to ride, instead opting to lay you unto his saddle as he steered his horse.
"You know...You'd think that you treat a lady better than this." You muttered to your captor. He scoffed at your remark before starting up his horse again.
"You're not exactly a lady though." The man replied, smacking your ass hard enough to make you yelp out in pain. "What man would treat an outlaw like you as a lady?"
"Ouuu, tough words for the big bad bounty hunter." You scoffed. "Come on, you only caught me for my big bounty and left all these other bastards untouched. It doesn't really seem fair does it?"
"For a woman, you talk too much." The man chuckled.
He rode for hours without speaking another word. You tried getting him to say something else but failed every time. Your captor was a silent man. So you had nothing to do but look at the passing terrain of dirt, grass, the man's boots, and the horse's hooves. It seemed like the endless landscape never ended. It was almost maddening how monotonous it was. If it weren't for the horses hooves hitting against the earth constantly, you might have lost your mind.
After what felt like ages, the man finally stopped. He got off his horse and untied you.
"This ain't no prison." He explained while keeping his grip on the ropes. "But if you don't start being nice, I'll tie you back up until I find someplace we can settle down. What do you say?"
"Whatever you say." You shrugged.
"Good girl." The man said happily before letting go of the ropes and walking away. You watched him walk off into the distance before laying on the ground.
Oh, your back aches so badly. Being bound in the same position for such a long time hurts your muscles horribly. A few moments later, you heard the man come back and he squatted next to you. He lifted a flask of water and gave it to you. You took it from him and drank, glad that the damn water tasted good. When you finished drinking, you handed the empty flask back to him.
"It's getting dark and we're not going to make it to town at this rate. I'm setting camp up here." He started and gave you a look. "If you promise to behave, I'll leave you untied tonight. But if you try to run, I'm tying you back up. Do you understand?"
"Yeah yeah. I won't run." You rolled your eyes. You watched as the man prepared to set up camp. You laid back on the ground and let your mind wander.
"What's your story?" You asked suddenly.
The man looked at you with a frown. "What makes you ask?"
"You're just a lone man traveling around and collecting bounties. No family or friends to speak of. How did you end up doing this? And why are you alone?"
"I can ask you the same question." He asked you back, as he leaned against his saddle. "How did a woman like you become an outlaw?"
"Easy." You answered, rolling your eyes. "My seven brothers decided they wanted to be cowboys, so I went with them. We raided ranches and stole cows. We got chased by the sheriffs all the time and got shot at several times. I helped them hijack a train one day, escaping with a large amount of money and guns. And then we split up after finding out that we had a large amount of bounty on our heads. I was just in town stocking up on supplies when you caught me. And here we are."
"Interesting." He said simply. "So you're telling me that you used to live a normal life?"
"Normal?" You laughed. "Nothing about me is normal! It's probably a miracle that I survived growing up the way I did. I have seven brothers. Imagine the chaos!"
"Seven." The man nodded. "That must have been difficult."
"To put it mildly." You nodded. "If you ever get the chance, tell me your story."
"No thanks." The man shook his head. "I prefer living my life alone."
"What's your name anyway?" You asked suddenly.
"Why?" The man replied with a frown.
"Just curious." You shrugged. "I'd like to know the name of my handsome captor. I'm Y/N by the way."
"Seonghwa." The man told you.
You smiled slightly and nodded. "Nice to meet you Seonghwa."
Seonghwa didn't mutter anything and when you turned your head to look at him, you let out a soft gasp. You never got the chance to really look at what your captor looked like since you were hanging off the horse most of the time. But now that you weren't looking at the dirt, you were able to take in his full appearance.
Holy shit, he was beautiful. From his black hair to his brown eyes, there wasn't a part of his face that you didn't like. His arms were also well toned. Every muscle was defined and showed signs of the many adventures he had lived through. Not to mention his chest was pretty impressive too. Even with the jacket covering it, you could still make out a decent sized pec.
'Damn it.' You cursed yourself silently. 'Now I feel guilty for getting captured by him.'
You quickly shifted your gaze back towards the horizon. You couldn't afford to think about him right now. You had to stay strong. Your past experiences with men made it impossible to trust anyone except for yourself. Even if he treated you well, you couldn't get attached to him because you were bound to be killed eventually.
You did have a hefty bounty on your head.
Sighing, you continued to watch the horizon as you waited for the sun to set. "I've never met a handsome bounty hunter before." You sighed, unable to hold back your thoughts anymore.
"What makes you say that?" Seonghwa inquired.
"You're good-looking, ruggedly handsome, in fact. Most bounty hunters I've seen aren't exactly the best looking." You told him honestly. "You got a wife and kids back home?"
"No." Seonghwa shook his head. "I've been traveling since I was young. Sometimes for months at a time. Other times, for weeks. No attachments."
"Hmm..." You pondered over the situation.
"And you?" He looked at you as you slowly sat up. "Anyone waiting for you?"
"Well..." You trailed off. "I did once upon a time. Before I became an outlaw. But he was gunned down before we could consummate the marriage."
"Damn." Seonghwa cursed. "How awful."
"Yeah, it sucked." You frowned. "I warned him what would happen if he were to stay in my life. And he chose to stay anyway. It wasn't even an hour after we were wed that he got shot in front of me. He was so young. Only eighteen. That bastard never should have gotten himself into such a dangerous line of work."
"Did you avenge him?" Seonghwa inquired curiously.
"Yes." You said simply. "After he died, I joined my brothers. I shot the bastard in the head once I found him. I went straight from being a naive girl of sixteen to a widow in a matter of hours."
"Do you miss him?" Seonghwa asked softly.
"Sometimes." You whispered. "It's been nearly ten years so I can't remember how he looks now. But sometimes I do. It gets hard living my life alone knowing that he's dead."
"You said that you came from a large family." Seonghwa remarked. "Are you sure that you're alright without someone by your side?"
"Of course." You scoffed. "A simple trip across the country isn't going to kill me. Plus, I have a handsome bounty hunter here to keep me company. It's definitely a win-win situation."
"Ha ha." Seonghwa snorted. "Keep joking like that and you'll regret it."
"Really?" You giggled. "Handsome bounty hunter says that I'll regret joking with him. Should I believe you?"
"Absolutely not." Seonghwa told you sternly. "I'm not like those other men. I may be a bounty hunter, but that doesn't mean that I'll touch women without consent."
"Such a gentleman. I like you already. Sad that you're turning me in though." You said before giving him a sweet smile. "Just kidding. Seriously though, don't turn me in. Let's be friends."
"Friends?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "No way in hell."
You let out a sigh as you resumed watching the dirt and grass below you. Hands and feet tied again, you thought you would be sitting upright on the saddle in front of him but he decided to lay you down instead. You could feel his warm hands near your back, holding the reins to keep the horse steady. He didn't say anything. There was no conversation. In fact, you couldn't hear any sound at all. Nothing but the sound of the wind blowing and the horse hooves hitting against the land.
"Back to looking at dirt and grass." You huffed. "Wonderful."
"There are other things to look at besides the dirt." Seonghwa pointed out.
"Like what? Cacti? Rocks?" You suggested sarcastically.
"Sounds about right." Seonghwa agreed. "Tell me something."
"Anything." You answered, trying to glance at him but to no avail.
"Have you always been this bold? Most women I've met don't exactly act like you." Seonghwa said with a slight hint of surprise.
"And how do they act?"
"Most are demure and coy. They don't talk much and prefer to remain quiet. They're happy to stay within their own circle and keep themselves safe." Seonghwa informed you. "They want security and nothing more. They want a nice home, some children, and the rest of their lives will follow suit. You, on the other hand, aren't afraid to challenge yourself and take risks. I mean what woman becomes an outlaw?"
"Me." You admitted. "This woman. So yes, you're correct. I am very different from other women. My parents were both strong people. They raised me differently than others. And when my parents died and I went with my brothers, they taught me to be tough. I've had to fend for myself since I was little. There was never a moment where I felt safe. Even after my husband died, I knew I had to go out on my own. If I wanted to survive, I needed to learn to fight. After joining my brothers, I learned how to shoot, rob trains, and kill. I have to admit, however, I never liked the killing part. But what choice did I have? All I cared about was keeping myself alive."
"I never said I disliked it. I respect your strength. It's admirable." Seonghwa said sincerely.
"Thank you." You smiled, staring at the man who stared at the land with equal intensity. "But let me ask you something."
"Go ahead." Seonghwa said simply.
"Why the sudden interest in knowing about me?" You asked. "You're going to turn me in anyway. What difference does it make whether or not you know my backstory?"
"True enough." Seonghwa conceded. "But I find it interesting."
"Okay. I guess curiosity killed the cat. Ask away." You rolled your eyes. "But first, can I ride sitting up? Laying like this is awkward and it hurts."
"Sure." Seonghwa said. He grabbed the reins and pulled gently to make sure the horse stopped. When the animal compiled, he released his grip, untied the ties that bound your feet and positioned you onto the horse seat. You were grateful to finally be able to sit properly and look around.
As soon as you sat up, you immediately took in every detail of the man that sat behind you.
He wasn’t as tall as your brothers Yunho and MIngi but still tall nonetheless. His broad shoulders barely fit into the leather jacket he wore. Black pants and boots completed his attire. However, his favorite piece of clothing seemed to be the black shirt that he wore underneath his jacket. It was open just enough to show a glimpse of his chiseled chest. It was slightly unbuttoned and made him seem even more desirable.
"Stop staring or you'll go back to looking at the ground." Seonghwa chastised you with a glare.
"Okay. Fine, no staring." You sighed in defeat. "Ask your questions. Or whatever it is that you want to know."
"Your siblings." Seonghwa began. "Who are they?"
"Don't you know the Ateez gang?" You asked curiously.
Seonghwa stared down at you. "Those are your brothers? The seven men with five thousand dollar bounties each on their head? You rode with them?"
"Is it that surprising? I'm surprised my oldest brother Hongjoong doesn't have a bigger bounty..." You paused for a moment before continuing. "If you're wondering, yes I am the youngest."
"I wouldn't have guessed that you were the youngest." Seonghwa commented. "It must be tough having to live up to everyone else."
"It's not that bad. We're actually quite close." You shrugged. "Everyone else has big personalities and we all get along really well. They all became my brothers when my parent's adopted them. I will always be their sister and they will always be my brothers even if we don't share a single drop of blood."
"You must care for them very much. To risk everything for them." Seonghwa said in understanding. "Have you fallen in love again after your husband died?"
"Again? I don't understand what you mean." You replied innocently.
"You fell in love with a man and married him. Have you fallen in love with another man since then?" Seonghwa pressed.
"Uh... What? I never said that I was in love with my husband. But I did respect him. He was a good friend and would have been a good husband." You explained. You turned to look at him. "Seriously. It’s not fair that I’m the only one talking. Tell me about you."
"I...I had a wife and child." Seonghwa said sadly. "She died from childbirth and my son died too from illness. He was only a few months old."
"Oh...I'm sorry." You muttered. Your heart broke a little bit at the sad news. You really hoped that the man beside you wasn't going to turn you in. Because right now, he reminded you a lot of her. Of your past self. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Seonghwa reassured you. "It's been about five years now since she died. Sometimes it still feels fresh. But I've gotten used to it. Since then, I haven't found anyone else to settle down with. Not because I don't want to. But because it's not possible. I just can't bring myself to trust another person."
"Trust is hard to earn." You murmured. "So I understand why you can't do it. But perhaps you should try? Just one more time?"
"One more time?" Seonghwa repeated incredulously. "What makes you think that I would fall in love again?"
"Well...first of all, you are not alone." You argued. "Second, most of the world is lonely. They may have many friends, but they don't have a companion that they can share everything with. That special someone that is there for them when times are good and also for them when times are bad. Someone that they can depend on to be there through thick and thin."
"Someone like you?" Seonghwa questioned, looking at you curiously.
"Calm down, big boy." You laughed. "I'm not telling you to marry me. I'm just saying that maybe you shouldn't shut off your chances at finding happiness because you're afraid of getting hurt."
"Wise words coming from an outlaw." Seonghwa muttered with amusement. "Alright. Let's give it a shot. One more time."
"Another question for you." You said casually. "Of all outlaws to catch, why me? There were a ton in the town I was in. I don't even resemble my wanted picture. So why me?"
"I don't know the exact reason...but I think it's because you are so unlike any other woman I've ever met." Seonghwa answered honestly. "I know I said that you're different. But it's true. You're not like any of the traditional women out there. You're not a saloon girl and you're not a prostitute. When I saw you standing there next to your horse, I just had this feeling come over me. Like I could tell that you're more than meets the eye."
"You like the mysterious type, huh?" You teased.
"I like it when a woman stands out from the crowd." Seonghwa told you honestly. "I like it when they dare to defy society. I find it very attractive. My wife was like that."
"That sounds wonderful." You breathed out.
Seonghwa watched you intently. Your hair flew freely behind you. For some reason, he couldn't stop staring at you. You stared back at him curiously. Something about him intrigued you. From the way he spoke, to the way he looked. Maybe it was the aura he emitted that intrigued you. Whatever it was, you couldn't deny the fact that you were drawn to him. It didn't matter if you got arrested, turned in, or got a bullet to the face, you had to admit that he was handsome. And charming. He was just...so unlike any other man you've ever known.
In a good way.
After a while, Seonghwa cleared his throat. You instantly snapped out of your thoughts and forced yourself to focus.
"How long until we reach town?" You asked curiously.
"Not long." Seonghwa confirmed. "We'll stop at the nearest inn for dinner and drinks. Then it will take us another day to reach our destination."
"I guess I should get comfortable, huh?" You sighed as you adjusted yourself on the saddle. You looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Since I'm going with you peacefully, can you untie my hands too? Please?"
"You promise not to run?" Seonghwa asked curiously.
"I swear." You nodded.
"Alright." Seonghwa sighed. He removed the rope binding your hands together and loosened the knots on the other side of your wrists. "There."
You rubbed your wrists appreciatively. Now that you weren't tied up, it gave you the freedom to stretch your arms out. In response, Seonghwa wrapped his arm around your waist. You looked up at him with wide eyes but he seemed to just stare off into the distance.
You looked down at his hand resting against your hip. He hadn't removed it yet. Instead, he held it firmly as if he intended to keep it there forever. Without thinking, you leaned into his touch and placed your head on his shoulder.
For the rest of the journey, neither of you moved. You didn't speak. You didn't say anything either.
Both of you just stayed silent, savoring each other's company.
You reached the inn that was in the middle of nowhere. If you looked at the map carefully, it wasn't even a real city. However, it served as the last outpost for food supplies and travellers before they arrived at the main city.
You and Seonghwa walked up to the counter where a grizzled old man stood, watching you both. "Lookin' for a room?" He grunted gruffly.
"Yeah." Seonghwa said confidently. "Do you have any vacancies?"
The old man glanced over at you before answering. "I only got a small room meant for one traveler and not two. Does your pretty wife mind the small space? I reckon she'd prefer the comforts of a larger room."
Seonghwa didn't even correct the man as he looked down at you. "You don't mind the small room, do you sweetheart?" He asked softly.
You shook your head. "We'll take it. After all, it's only for one night."
The old man led you inside the small room. You pulled back the curtain and took a look around. It wasn't too bad, but it definitely wasn't a large luxurious room. There was a bed, which was only big enough for one person, a dresser and a table with chairs. It seemed to be more of a bachelor room rather than a couple's. But hey, at least you wouldn't have to sleep on the floor tonight.
"This room is the cheapest we have." The old man announced as he pointed to the bed. "But I suggest you make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon."
He left without waiting for your answer. Once he closed the door behind himself, you turned to look at Seonghwa.
"Wife? Sweetheart?" You asked in confusion. "Am I missing something here?"
Seonghwa sat in one of the chairs as he gestured for you to take the bed. "It's a good excuse for a man and woman that’s together to be in these parts. To most folks, a female outlaw is unheard of. But a man and woman travelling together under such circumstances?"
"I guess...yeah. Makes sense." You mumbled.
"Take the bed." He muttered. "I'll sleep in the chair."
"Why not let me share the bed with you?" You suggested.
"You trying to seduce me?"
"Do you want to be seduced?" You countered playfully.
Seonghwa looked away guiltily. "No, I..."
You placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't worry about it. I won't seduce you."
"Go to sleep, Y/N." Seonghwa urged gently.
Reluctantly, you climbed onto the bed. Your skin prickled as you stared at Seonghwa who was already sitting in the chair.
You waited until he finally laid down on the chair before you finally relaxed. It was a short wait. Within minutes, you were fast asleep.
This time he didn't tie you up and lay you down on the saddle. This time, he actually put you on his lap as he steered the horse with one hand. As you sat comfortably in his lap, his free arm went around your waist.
You stared out at the beautiful scenery around you. It was truly amazing how vast the plains were and how beautiful the sunset was.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Seonghwa whispered. His breath tickled the back of your neck as he spoke.
Your heart fluttered at the feel of his voice against your ear. You lifted your head to look at him. "Yes. It's beautiful." You breathed out.
"Right now, you don't look like an outlaw. Don't act like one. Be yourself." Seonghwa encouraged. "Enjoy the ride and the view. Just be happy. It's alright if you want to enjoy being in my arms. I'm not going to tell anyone."
His voice made your heart beat faster. You couldn't help but lean into his chest. "Thank you, Seonghwa." You breathed out.
"Y/N. Can I ask you a question?" Seonghwa asked curiously.
You turned to look at him curiously. "Sure."
"I know we just met but...can I kiss you?" Seonghwa breathed out nervously.
"Why the sudden interest in me now?" You questioned jokingly.
"Because I want to." Seonghwa admitted. "I never thought I would meet someone like you. Someone that doesn't follow the rules. Who dares to break away from what others expect her to do. A smart woman with such high morals. And she's honest and has strong principles. I always knew that I wanted to be around someone like you."
You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a strangled sound. At first, you didn't know what to say, but then he pressed his soft lips against yours. Your body reacted involuntarily, giving in to his gentle kisses.
His warm lips felt good against yours.
It felt right.
Everything felt right.
When he pulled away, he didn't look disappointed. In fact, he looked completely content. As if he hadn't been looking for you, but found you anyway. That realization filled you with hope. It may have only been the second day since you met him, but you could tell that there was something special between the two of you. You didn't know if it would go anywhere in the future, but you were glad that you met him nonetheless.
You didn't know what this feeling was. Surely it couldn't have been love. This was your second day of knowing each other after all. Love was impossible. So you couldn't possibly be in love with him. Right?
Still, you couldn't help but smile. Maybe this would turn into something great after all.
As you rode into the main city, you gazed out at the streets, amazed by the hustle and bustle around you.
People were everywhere, running around and buying and selling their wares. Despite the bustle, you couldn't help but think that everything looked calm and peaceful. It almost seemed unreal.
But despite the chaos and turmoil, people still smiled and laughed. Even amidst all the commotion, they managed to make jokes and laugh. You found that incredibly reassuring.
"You're turning me in?" You asked, his chest warm against your back.
"Do you want me to? Or do you want to stay with me?" Seonghwa replied softly.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" You asked him, as his horse trotted along the streets.
"Would you be unhappy staying here?" Seonghwa asked with uncertainty.
"I'd be locked in a cell for the rest of my life. Why do you ask?" You questioned.
Seonghwa sighed. "Because for some odd damn reason, I don't want to turn you in."
Your brows furrowed. "Why?"
"I dunno." Seonghwa shrugged. "It's probably because I'm a soft-hearted bastard on the inside. Maybe I want you to partner up with me to hunt outlaws instead. Heard you're pretty good with a gun."
"You tryna make me one of the good ones?" You teased.
Seonghwa smirked. "Only if you wanna."
"If it means that I won't get hunted down..." You glanced over at him and grinned. "I might take you up on that offer. Thanks."
"Good girl." Seonghwa replied happily as he pulled you closer to his chest. "Let's go rest up in our rooms and decide our plan of action tomorrow morning."
You and Seonghwa decided on one room again but this time the bed was much larger to accommodate a couple. You both took a bath and washed your clothes before settling in to sleep.
As you lied in bed, listening to Seonghwa breathe, you couldn't help but think of your future. For the past few years, all you did was spend money and travel the west with your brothers. You grew tired of doing that. Of taking people's possessions and running away. It was boring. Sure, there was the occasional excitement and danger but you always escaped alive. What else could you possibly gain from living like that? All you had to show for your adventures were scars and bruises.
Now you have the chance to live your life differently. This might be your last chance to do so. Now that you had met Seonghwa, things weren't exactly the same anymore. The path ahead of you was still uncertain, but the unknown was always exciting. What would happen next?
You heard Seonghwa move in his sleep beside you. Then, a few moments later, you felt his fingers lightly tracing your cheek. You smiled, enjoying the warmth radiating from his touch. "Seonghwa?"
"Hmm?" Seonghwa replied sleepily. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." You told him honestly. "Just thinking."
"What are you thinking about?" Seonghwa whispered suddenly.
"About us." You confessed.
Seonghwa's eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled over to face you. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. "What about us?"
"Us as partners." You stated simply. "And lovers."
His thumb brushed against your bottom lip. "Are you sure?"
"Very." You assured him as you leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.
"Have you ever been with a man since your husband passed?" Seonghwa asked as his lips trailed down your neck.
"No. Not once." You replied quietly. “Still a virgin, here.”
"Then I promise that you'll find no better lover than me." Seonghwa whispered against your lips. "Let's leave the past behind us and start anew. We'll see where this takes us."
Slowly, you drew back and nodded. "Alright." You murmured.
Seonghwa leaned in and kissed you passionately. "Do you want to keep going?"
You sighed in pleasure as he nipped at your bottom lip. "Can't stop now. I need to taste every inch of you."
With that, he continued down your neck, kissing you lovingly as his fingers slowly explored your curves. Soon, he was stroking your breasts through your shirt and teasing your nipples with his thumbs.
When his lips returned to your lips, you parted them eagerly, your own tongue reaching out to taste his. Soon, the passion between the two of you increased, intensifying with every passing moment. When he started kissing your neck, moving lower and lower down your chest, you held onto his shoulders.
"You're so soft, baby." Seonghwa breathed out huskily. "Soft as silk and sweet as honey."
"Mmm..." You moaned.
"So sensitive." Seonghwa breathed out as he traced his tongue across your nipple. "I could lick you all night long."
You whimpered as he circled your breast with his tongue, teasing you with the tips. "Seonghwa..."
"You've never been touched like this before, have you?" He questioned in a hoarse whisper. "Touched like this and felt loved."
"Yes." You whispered as you reached out to touch him.
"Have you ever tasted a man's flesh before?" Seonghwa asked curiously.
"Uh..." You shook your head. "No. Despite my flirtatious and bold nature, you'd be the first man I've ever given myself to."
"That's quite a confession." Seonghwa chuckled. "I think it's time that I changed that."
You gasped as he bit gently on your breast, making you arch off the bed in ecstasy. "S-Seonghwa!"
"I love it when you say my name like that. You know that, right?" He whispered against your skin. "I could listen to you say my name forever."
He began to suckle on your breast while tracing his fingers down your stomach. "God, I wish you were naked." He mumbled. "Wish I could touch you. Feel every inch of your soft, silky skin."
Before you knew it, he had undone the buttons of your shirt, revealing your chest. With shaking hands, he removed it and tossed it aside. "Look at how perfect you are." He breathed out. "So fucking sexy."
"Like what you see?" You asked breathlessly.
"Every damn thing." Seonghwa groaned as he caressed your naked skin. His fingers traced down your abdomen, trailing lightly over your stomach, stopping at your hip bones. He tugged at your pants and undergarments until they fell to the floor. "Fuck, you're gorgeous. So sexy and beautiful."
He lowered his head and ran his tongue along your belly button. You sighed in pleasure as he ran his nose up your abdomen, inhaling deeply. Suddenly, he pushed himself up and sat back on his knees, gazing at you seductively. "I want to taste you so badly." He said darkly. "I want to savor every part of you."
Without warning, he reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him. Then, he lowered his mouth to yours and kissed you deeply. The sensations coursing through your body left you wanting more.
Slowly, he slid down your body, tasting you with his tongue as he went. One hand caressed your thighs while the other trailed lightly up your side. "Beautiful." He whispered. "So damn beautiful."
His lips trailed up your ribs, to your collarbone, to your chin. He nibbled at your jawline before kissing your lips softly. Slowly, he began to explore the insides of your mouth, sucking and licking at your lips. “How are you feeling, my sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips.
You smiled. “Amazing.” You breathed out.
Seonghwa grinned. “Let’s give your body even more pleasure.” He whispered huskily as he stood up and yanked off his shirt. His muscles rippled with every movement as he approached you. Then, he knelt down in front of you and pressed his lips against your thigh. You squirmed slightly at the contact.
“Oh!” You exclaimed softly. “Seonghwa!”
“Shhh.” He soothed as he rubbed his lips against your leg. “Just let yourself enjoy this.”
Slowly, he moved his way up your thigh, giving you goosebumps with every stroke. You couldn’t help but feel excited as he kissed your inner thigh, his fingers continuing to stroke you gently. “Seonghwa…” You whispered softly. “What are you doing?”
“Shh…” He repeated. “Trust me.”
A low moan escaped your lips as he slipped his finger into you, gently caressing your walls. “Ah…”
“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa murmured, smiling at you. “So eager and eager to please.”
His fingers played with your clit while he continued to kiss you tenderly. You could barely contain your excitement as his lips traveled higher and higher up your thigh. Then, he slid his tongue into your cleft and licked up and down your slit, his hands stroking you gently as he went. Your hips bucked up against his face as his fingers continued to work their magic on your g-spot.
Soon, he sucked your clit into his mouth, gently biting down on it. You moaned loudly as you began to tremble. Your legs tightened around his head, forcing his head deeper inside you. He didn’t seem to mind though as he continued to play with your clit.
“Seonghwa…” You moaned again as your entire body tensed up. You couldn’t hold back any longer as you came apart underneath him.
He continued to lick and suck at your pussy, making sure to drink in every drop of your orgasmic juices. He kissed your inner thigh several times before getting up and standing over you. “I want you to take off my pants.” He commanded as he kicked off his boots.
Slowly, you undid his pants and took them off, throwing them to the side. Once you finished removing his pants, you pulled off his underwear, his erection springing free. Your eyes widened as you gazed at his cock. It was already half hard and incredibly large.
"My sweet girl, can you take me in your mouth?" He asked with a wicked grin.
You nodded slowly. "I'm willing to try anything once."
His eyes darkened. "Do you really mean that?"
"Yes." You answered as you wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'll do whatever you want."
He cupped your cheek with one hand and looked deep into your eyes. "You'll let me fuck your pretty little mouth?"
You nodded enthusiastically. "Of course."
"Oh, baby…" He breathed out, closing his eyes as he imagined the two of you together. You on your knees in front of him, holding his thick member in your hand as you prepare to slide it inside your warm, wet mouth. You looking up at him, your hair cascading down your back as you stare into his eyes, begging for him to fill your throat with his seed. "I bet you look amazing like that. Can you imagine it?"
"Mmm... Yes." You moaned as you felt him sliding his fingers through your hair. "I can definitely picture it."
He moaned in pleasure. "God, I want you." He growled.
He reached down and guided himself into your waiting mouth. As soon as the tip of his dick hit your lips, you closed your eyes and swallowed the head of his cock. He winced in pleasure as you started to move your head back and forth, taking more and more of him inside your mouth. He could hear you moaning in pleasure as you bobbed your head up and down. Soon, you started to take him further and further down your throat.
"You're taking it so well, my sweet girl." He breathed out, leaning forward to run his fingers through your hair. "Is it too much?"
You shook your head. "No." You breathed out. "Keep going."
He grinned. "Good girl." He moved his fingers from your hair to caress your cheeks. "I'll take it slow if you want."
You didn't answer him, instead simply nodding your head as you sucked harder on his cock. You could tell he was enjoying the sensation because his breathing became heavier and faster. "Baby, can you take more?" He whispered huskily. "Can you handle the whole length of my cock?"
"I'll take you as far as you want, Seonghwa." You replied breathlessly.
Suddenly, he thrust himself deeply into your throat, causing you to gag a little. He held onto your head and forced himself to keep going, knowing that if he stopped, you would struggle to breathe. "There we go." He breathed out. "I knew you could handle it."
With every inch of him that entered your mouth, you felt yourself growing hotter and hotter. You were starting to shake with desire as you leaned forward, trying to take more of him inside you. He didn't stop, pressing himself into your mouth and stroking your throat gently.
"Keep going, my sweet girl." He encouraged you. "Take all of me. Make me explode inside your mouth."
As you kept moving your head back and forth, sucking and slurping on his dick, he reached out and caressed your cheek. Your face flushed red as you looked up at him. "You look so fucking beautiful like this." He whispered. "Taking everything I have to give."
He watched you continue to suck and lick at his cock. His breathing was beginning to become irregular as he fought the urge to come. "Oh god... God, I need to fuck you now." He moaned. "I can't take this anymore."
With that, he turned around, pulling you with him. "Come here, my sweet girl." He commanded. "I want you on top."
Once he lay down on the bed, you straddled him, hesitating. "Seonghwa...you're so big. Will you fit?"
"You won't know unless you try." He encouraged you as he caressed your face. "Put me inside you. As much as I need you, tell me if it hurts and I'll stop."
You bit your lip nervously. "Alright." You said softly. "I'll try."
"Good girl..." He murmured as you slowly sank down on him. "Are you okay?"
"Yes." You gasped as you felt him filling you completely.
"It's not too painful?" He breathed out.
"Not at all." You answered honestly. "It feels amazing."
He smiled. "That's my sweet girl." He said as he caressed your breasts. "Feels so good to finally be inside you. To be buried deep inside you."
His words sent chills down your spine as you rode him, bouncing up and down. Every time you bounced, he gripped your hips tighter and held you in place, ensuring that you stayed impaled on his dick. With each thrust, you could feel him throbbing against your pussy walls. He could see how badly you wanted to come, how badly you needed to come. But you knew Seonghwa wouldn't come before you did.
"Tell me what you want." He whispered softly as he stroked your stomach. "Say the word and I will give it to you."
Your pussy clenched around his dick as you bit your lower lip. "Fuck me harder, Seonghwa." You breathed out. "Please."
"Such a naughty girl." He chuckled. "But I love it."
He grabbed your ass and started thrusting into you harder. "This is our first time having sex, you know?" He breathed out. "You're doing so well, my sweet girl. Don't worry about anything. Just ride me and let me give you pleasure."
You smiled as you pumped up and down on him, loving the feeling of his cock inside you. The room was filled with heavy breathing and low moans as the two of you tried desperately to reach your orgasms.
"I think I'm close." You breathed out.
"I think you are too." He agreed as he kissed your neck. "Just let go, sweetheart. Let go and come with me."
Then, you felt an intense wave of heat building within you. You trembled as you reached your peak and cried out loudly, squeezing Seonghwa's hips tightly. As your orgasm ripped through your body, he continued to fuck you even harder, wanting to make sure you came just as hard as he did.
"That's it, my sweet girl." He grunted. "Let it all out. Come all over my cock. Take everything I have to give."
As the two of you rode your orgasms out, you held onto Seonghwa's arms tightly. "Oh... oh god... I don't know if I can take anymore..." You panted out as your body relaxed.
"Hold on, my sweet girl." He replied as he ran his fingers up and down your arm. "We've still got some time left."
The next few minutes were filled with kisses and soft touches as both of you recovered from your climaxes. After a couple of minutes, you opened your eyes and gazed lovingly at him. "Wow... that was incredible." You said softly.
He smiled and brought his thumb to his mouth, tasting you. "Yes, it was." He replied. "And it gets better every time."
"Oh, really?" You asked with a smile.
"Really." He replied as he cupped your cheek. "If you're willing to be patient with me, I promise you that it will only get better and better. And someday, I will give you something you've never experienced before."
You shivered slightly. "Like what?"
"Hmm... I haven't decided yet." He admitted with a sheepish grin.
You let out a laugh, cuddling closer to his body. "Well, that doesn't exactly help me decide whether or not to be patient."
"Sorry, my sweet girl." He apologized as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I'm trying to be romantic, but I'm very rusty at this sort of thing."
"You'd better get used to it." You replied with a wink. "Because I plan on being your partner for a long time."
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez fanfics#ateez smut#ateez stories#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut
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legally binded - 3
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part
Chapter 3: Movie Premieres, SNL and Quarrels
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)
(this is all fiction!)
Note: Otherwise known as the One in New York. What do you guys think about R and Jenna's dynamic so far? 👀 (taking a break for a few days/maybe a week after I post this, I think I've kept you all fed for a bit while I'm gone lol, in the meantime, send asks I'll try to answer all of them!😋)
Word Count: 6.4k+
“You get on that plane and I’ll drop you as a client.” Jake’s voice rings out from your work phone.
“What the fuck, Jake, are you serious?!” You seethe, practically red in the face.
You have been on the phone with Jake for the last hour – Liv refuses to pick up your calls after you blew up the group chat, rehashing your argument with Jenna. Desperately pleading to fly back home because you couldn’t stand being in the same city as the actress, at the moment.
You couldn't even think about her words without it making your blood boil.
“Fuck yeah, I’m serious. Do you know what time it is here?”
Glancing at the clock it read 3:46 A.M. EST, you roll your eyes. “It’s just past midnight in L.A. You won’t die if you don’t get eight hours of sleep.”
“Be quiet. I don’t wanna hear another word from you.” He nearly shouts and you imagine that one vein popping through his forehead. You liked to stare at it when Jake goes off on his shouting tangents at you.
He never notices that you're not paying attention.
“Maybe we should get Liv on the phone or maybe Sarah?” Link glances at you worriedly.
He hates seeing you so riled up, so he often played the middle-man with your quarrels against Jake and Liv.
“Liv says she doesn’t wanna hear it. Sarah says forget it and I’m saying, I’m not fucking around this time Y/N, this is your last chance. I’m over your shit.” He hangs up the phone, leaving the line dead.
You jump face-first into the stiff bed, groaning loudly.
“Looks like you’re outta luck.” He pats you back, leaving you to sulk alone as he shuts the door. “Try to get some sleep.”
There was no way you ended up in this situation.
You guess, it was fair to acknowledge your recent streak of bad behaviour. First, it was tame — ignoring your phone, running away to party, getting mixed in the wrong crowds – eventually, Link had to start dragging you out of bed by the legs (sometimes kicking and screaming) just to make it in time for a gig.
You’re not sure when all of this started. All you knew is that you were so tired. You just wanted one second to breathe; to feel like that young child again, with hopes and dreams. But no, someone was always hovering over your shoulder ready to drag you away to another event you could care less about.
You close your eyes, allowing the jetlag and exhaustion to set in as your body moulds into the mattress.
–
The next day, you find yourself standing in front of Jenna’s hotel room. The large double door looks menacing and faintly, you can already hear a bustle on the other side. You really didn’t want to knock but you know what was on the line so you swallow your pride and raise a fist to knock.
But before you can knock, the door is opening revealing a girl, with dirty blonde hair bearing a semblance to a certain actress. “Oh, hi!”
“Hello.” You greet warmly.
“I’m Aliyah. Jenna’s younger sister.” She holds her free hand out.
You shake her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m–”
“I know who you are.” She smiled then laughed, “Everyone knows who you are.”
You chuckled, shyly nodding. “I guess.”
“Are you two done?” Jenna suddenly appears, yanking the door wider so you can see her. Her makeup complements her well; the green bustier two-piece looked expertly crafted just for her; and the way her hair fell in soft waves framed her face nicely.
“Hi…” You say a little vacant-sounding.
You don’t say anything else.
From the corner of your eye, you see her sister’s raised brow but you think you’re imagining it because you can’t keep your gaze off of Jenna. The actress raises her brow at you, impatient.
“What did you need?” She asks.
“Uh—I wanted to talk, about last night."
Jenna watches you momentarily before rolling her eyes; pulling you inside with a rough yank. “Get inside before someone sees you — Aliyah close the door.”
You stumble, still a little dazed but the smaller girl’s nails are gripping your arm painfully making you snap out of it.
“Ow, ow, ow.” You whisper, not inattentive to the multiple people scattered around the large room.
“Guys, this is Y/N.” She ignored your complaints and pulled you past the foyer into the living room – her entire team had taken refuge in the room to get the star ready for a day of press interviews.
Various echoes of your name and greetings are sent back to you but you certainly don’t miss the awkward tension in the room started by your sudden presence.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I can just go.” You point behind you.
“Nonsense.” An older woman that looked kinda like the actress waves off. “It’s great to have you here, Miss L/N. Jenna was just talking about you.”
“Oh please, just Y/N is fine.” Shaking your head bashfully, briefly wondering what she could be telling her family and team about what kind of person you are.
“I’m Jenna’s mom. That’s her dad, her other sister Mia, and her brother Markus.” She points and you try to keep up with the names of the people she’s throwing at you; Jenna’s family and team included.
“It’s so great to meet you all. It’s not hard to see that Jenna is so loved.” You say sincerely.
“We try our best.” Her dad says looking appreciative of your words. You smile at everyone and it seems to ease a bit of the tension in the room.
You didn’t see Jenna rolling her eyes again (her favourite to do around you) disregarding the encounter; she hides the surprise she feels from your genuine compliment.
Last night's argument with you, still burning in her brain.
“What did you want to say?" She says a little bluntly.
Watching as everyone turns to go back to what they were doing, you look down at Jenna. “Um… I wanted to apologize for last night. And call a truce, maybe over dinner?
She looks surprised not expecting you to be the first one to give in. “Oh…”
“Yeah…”
“I appreciate it.” Jenna cuts in, “I’m sorry too… a truce sounds good. Sarah got mad at me too, for what it's worth. She even said I was whining.”
Jenna jokes, dropping her walls a bit.
You rub a hand on the back of your neck, chuckling, “Good to know.”
“I can’t do dinner though.” She shuts her eyes as if remembering something.
“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time.”
“Or maybe… you can be my date to the Scream cast dinner?” She offers, looking a little hopeful.
“Are you sure?” You chew your lip. Ignoring the word date.
“Yeah! Totally, you can meet everyone, it’ll be great. Not to throw anyone under the bus but they’ve been trying to meet you.” She says sheepishly.
You laugh, dropping your walls just a tad. “Sure I’ll be there.”
She smiles warmly, satisfied with your answer. “Yeah, it’ll be great. I guarantee there’ll be paparazzi, so it’ll be good for publicity. They’ve been hounding me since I landed, my dad nearly pushed a guy in the airport. I couldn’t even walk to the door by myself at the SNL dinner cast party.”
You lose a bit of the smile but Jenna doesn’t see, laughing at her memory of the paparazzi. You blink around, making sure no one saw you, it might give them the wrong idea. “Uh, yeah sure. I’m good with whatever.”
“Okay, cool.” She shoots a thumb up, walking away from you. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Mhmm.” You smile, waving goodbye to everyone and booting it out the door.
Unsure where the tension in your chest is coming from you swiftly walk to the elevator; aggressively tapping the button as if the elevator would come faster that way. And practically throwing yourself in the metal box as soon as it opens.
You miss the entire pandemonium that implodes in the room when you leave.
“Holy shit?” Mia exclaims.
“Language.” Her mom chastises.
“No, holy shit, indeed. Jenna oh my god what did you do to that poor girl?” Aliyah walks past Jenna to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“What are you talking about?” She looks at her sisters confused.
Mia’s rolling her eyes, standing up from the couch. “Did you not see the way she was looking at you?”
“No? How was she looking at me?” She turns to her mom who had a hint of a smile on her lips as if she knew something. Jenna was starting to feel left out.
“She likes you, Jen.” Her brother speaks up, not even bothering to look up from his phone.
“What? You guys are crazy. We barely know each other.” Jenna starts shaking her head furiously, turning to Enrique, her stylist and close friend. “Enrique, tell them they’re being crazy.”
But he shrugs, sharing that same Cheshire grin her mom had. “God, not you too.” She clamps her eyes shut with her hands.
“Hey! Watch the eyes!” Her makeup artist warns.
“Dad?” She drops her hands, pleading at the silent man, who, she knows is listening. Why do Dads do that thing where they let everyone argue, only stepping in when the Mom asks for backup.
He remains in character – staying silent.
“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. She was literally here for five seconds. How could you possibly think she likes me from that.” Jenna turns to everyone else.
“I don’t know, Jen. The eyes never lie.” Mia says, privy to the way your smile fell when Jenna mentioned being spotted for publicity tonight.
“I’m– I’m late for interviews, I need to go,” Jenna mutters, grabbing her purse and walking to the door.
–
“This is gonna blow up.” Your producer says from beside you.
“I don’t know. I still think it’s missing something.” You sigh, sliding the headphones off as you slump onto the plush leather seats.
You sneaked off to the studio not too far from the hotel in lower Manhattan. See you would have told Link or anyone really, but you were trying to be discreet. And Link is one ‘ol snitch and the personal fun police.
It seems after your fight with Jenna, Jake and Liv put you under strict instructions not to leave the hotel unless accompanied by someone from your team.
You’re not a fucking child. You don’t need a babysitter. So here you are, with your producer in the studio trying to record this damn song you’ve been stuck on for three months.
“Maybe it’s time to scrap the song then.” He offers. “It’s never gonna be done before Coachella.”
Immediately you are shaking your head. No, this song is special, you can feel it. If only you can get your head out of your own ass long enough to find the damn words.
“No, just– just put it on hold. Let’s work on something else.”
He sighs, clicking the screen to pull up another file. “Your call.”
The buzzing of your phone against the wooden table echoes into the silence that grew as you waited. “Ah fuck.”
Reaching over, you grab the phone and are bombarded by a flurry of texts and missed calls.
Some from Jenna, some from your bodyguard and driver, most from Link.
Jenna’s is the first one you click.
The phone rings three times before it gets picked up. Muffled, loud voices are all you hear at first before she eventually speaks up, “Hello?”
“Hey, I am so–”
“Where the hell are you? You’re ten minutes late. We’re all waiting for you.” Her tone is sharp and snipped.
You had fucked up.
“Fuck… I’m sorry, I’ll be right there– there was…. uh.” You stand, gathering your jacket and silently bidding your producer goodbye as he looks on confused. “There was a lot of traffic. I am so sorry, I’m trying to make it as fast as I can.”
She sighs through the phone, “It’s…fine. Just get here as soon as you can, please.”
A little white lie never killed anybody.
You make it to the restaurant in record time. Pushing through the paparazzi camping outside the restaurant doors. Do they have no shame? Clearly not as they shout Jenna’s name at you; asking if you were there to see her, trying to get their piece of the scoop. Thankfully, the security guard had seen you and personally ushered you to the cast‘s table. Someone must have informed them that you were coming.
You’re still blinking away the spots in your vision from the camera flashes when you feel an arm pulling you down to sit.
“What took you so long?”Jenna asked assertively, scanning you.
“I told you. Traffic.” You plaster a smile at all the eyes on you, subtly shrugging Jenna’s arm off yours with a little bit of attitude.
You don’t miss her clenched jaw. Plastering a smile in front of her costars who were trying their best not to gawk at you. "Well, where were you then? No one could get a hold of you, we were worried."
You tried your hardest to school your genuine surprise at her worry. "Sorry. I was working. My phone was off."
“Hi! I’m Melissa, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m a big fan.” A brunette extends her hand from across the long table – interrupting Jenna before she can say anything else.
You make the usual greetings, introducing yourself to Jenna’s costars and colleagues. You felt a bit like a trophy wife if you were being honest. Like eye candy on her arm, serving only to make her look good. Upon that realization, you feel a little flushed. You’re not sure why, that is the whole point of this whole thing.
Her castmates have been sending you two knowing eyes over dinner — giving Jenna inconspicuous smirks and smug grins as if you couldn’t see. You keep your head down after the pleasantries are over and the main courses are brought out.
Grateful, you don’t have to talk about your upcoming projects any longer.
“What’s wrong?” You nudge her elbow, noticing how she was pushing away some pieces of food on her plate.
“I don’t like apples.” She mutters.
You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you don’t tease. “Just push them off to the side and I’ll eat it.”
She looks at you. “You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You shrug taking a sip of your wine.
“That doesn’t gross you out or anything? I know some people are weird about that sort of thing.” Jenna explains.
“Dude, I’ll eat your apples, chill.” You laugh.
“Okay, thanks…” She mumbles, still looking at you but you turn, talking to Mason and his girlfriend.
Jenna feels a nudge on her side. “What?”
“You two are cute.” Jasmin smirks. “And Y/N L/N? Not a bad catch at all.”
“Stop.” Jenna blushes. Unsure if she feels uncomfortable that some of her close and respected friends believe this lie so easily.
–
“Hey, give them some space!” The security guard shouts as the paparazzi come rushing toward the door as soon as the cast steps out.
You were standing in the lobby waiting for Jenna. “Shit…” You hear her mutter, watching as she searches for something in her bag.
“What’s up?” You ask.
“I forgot my sunglasses in my room. The flashes hurt my eyes.” She frowns. Wordlessly, you fish the pair you stashed in your jacket.
“Here, wear mine.” You hold the glasses out, watching as she just stares at it. Rolling your eyes, you push it toward her. “Dude, just take it.”
“Thanks…” She mumbles, sliding them up her hair.
You walk ahead of her, holding the door open as everyone trickles out. You’re regretting giving Jenna your only sunglasses cause the flashes are bright and it’s making your eyes water.
“Go ahead,” You usher, only leaving once everyone’s gone ahead of you. You trail behind ignoring the various men with large cameras chasing you as you walk down the sidewalk.
“Y/N over here, please! Just one photo.”
“Y/N, just one photo of you and Jenna, please!”
“What do you have to say about Vegas?”
You ignore them keeping your head down trying not to fall behind.
“Where’s Y/N?” You hear over the sea of nameless faces.
“Right here.” You say, sliding in beside her.
You miss the subtle sigh of relief she lets out.
“You can’t just walk behind everyone like that.” She grits, frustratedly.
"I tried to keep up." You mumbled like a scolded husband.
The shouting increases when you stand beside one another; practically rendering you blind with all the flashes. “Dammit.”
You place an hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Put on the sunglasses and walk.”
“Y/N, please over here. Jenna!” The shouting is constant and blurs altogether all at the same time.
“Ow.” You feel Jenna tumble when someone bumps her side causing her to bump harshly against you. Firmly, you grab her arm to preventing her from falling and pushed back against the crowd to check on her.
“Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as she fixes the lopsided glasses. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
“Hey. Watch it–” You grit at the closest person holding a camera. “It wasn’t me.”
The man insists, still shamelessly snapping flashes directly into your face and you begin to grow angry, slapping the camera out of his hands. “I said fucking watch it, asshole.”
You glare for a brief moment as the shouting gets impossibly louder. Knowing if you didn’t pull Jenna out of this, chaos would ensue. You link hands and drag her through the crowd, briskly walking to her castmates who shared looks of concern.
“Are you okay?” You ask, still walking but now barricaded by security and her friends.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise.” She squeezes your hand but then sighs, “You shouldn’t have done that.”
You scoff, “Are you serious? That guy pushed you.”
“It was an accident and you kinda overreacted.” She whispers lowly.
You clench your jaw, dropping her hand — Not wanting to blow up in front of her colleagues, you walk swiftly ahead.
You don’t talk even when you are both side-by-side being driven back to the hotel. Her driver has the partition up halfway but you see the nosy glances he keeps making at the rearview mirror as you and Jenna sit in silence; acutely aware to the growing tension between you and the actress.
You refuse to speak, just looking out the window as other cars pass by on the street.
“Are you done ignoring me now?” She speaks up but you still don’t want to talk. “Seriously?”
“Y/N all he did was push me. A little shove, that’s all. I’m okay. What’s not okay is the phone call you know we’re going to get from Liv and Sarah about that guy’s camera.”
“He deserved it.” You mumble through the palm holding your head up.
“I’m not saying he didn’t but you can’t just be aggressive to paparazzi like that. It’s exactly what they want.” She reasons, turning to you. Hoping you’ll finally look at her.
“I know…”
“Look at me, please?” She places a hand on your arm.
You turn, keeping your face impassive.
She sends you a shy smile then laughed. “I mean it though, thank you for having my back. My Dad is gonna think this whole thing is hilarious.”
“Why?” You can’t help but join in.
“He’s a cop, so he’s a little protective. He’s been waiting to shove away a pap for the longest time. He’s gonna be so mad you beat him to it.”
You laugh imagining her father’s reaction.
–
“You haven’t seen Scream? Not even the original?” Jenna turns bewildered like it was the most blasphemous thing she’s ever heard. You were in her hotel suite, watching movies. For some reason, Jenna invited you over to her room after being dropped off at the hotel. “How? You’re an actress.”
You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no so you accepted.
“Yeah, sorry. Jeez. Way to sound like a film snob. I didn’t know there was a checklist of movies to watch before becoming an actor.” You snort reaching for more popcorn from the bowl beside you.
“Shut up.” She hits you with the remote. “How have you not seen any of the Scream movies? You’re literally going to my premiere tomorrow.”
You hold up your hands in surrender, throwing a couple of kernels in your mouth. “Sorry, they’re not really my cup of tea.”
She rolls her eyes, snatching some popcorn from your hand, ignoring your protests. “Oh sorry, I forgot we have an action star in our midst.”
It was your turn to hit her arm, “Shut it. I just mean… I haven’t found the time to sit and watch them. They’re not exactly short films.”
“You’re in the MCU and Dune. Don’t talk to me about long movies.”
“Touché…” You can’t beat her there. They are ridiculously long movies. Probably why you’ve only ever seen them during premiere night and never again. “Well, put one on then. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”
She grins scrambling for the remote. “You’re on.”
You wait for her to pull up the Scream catalogue, chuckling at her visible excitement.
“Hey, why did you become an actress? and singer while we’re at it, Miss Grammy winner.” She nudges your shoulder.
You snort, shoving her lazily. “Shut up… Do you want the press interview answer or the real one?”
She raises a brow, immediately deciding. “The real one.”
You nod, feeling like she would say that.
“My mom... She was a rising star in the 80s but something happened and she never got to live out her dreams. When she had me she put me through all of the arts. I bumped and failed with most of them but acting and singing kinda stuck… I guess she saw those were the only two things I could stand so she pushed and pushed, it led to Jake discovering me and here we are.”
Jenna stays silent processing your story, she doesn’t miss the slight solemness your tone had taken. "Why do I feel like there's more to it than that?"
You chuckle, licking your lips. "Caught me... it's why I don't talk to my parents anymore."
"Oh..."
"Yeah. As soon as I turned eighteen I cut ties with them. She got too controlling, wanting money, wanting autonomy over my career so I took Link with me and moved to L.A. and did it on my own. I think... at some point acting became a spite thing with me because of her.
“Spite?” Jenna asks?
“Yeah… it was all I’ve ever known for a long time until I started making music. Probably the only time I’ve ever felt sure about a decision.”
"Oh..." Jenna finds herself saying again.
"Uh–sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird. We can just forget about it." You curl into yourself, tugging the blanket to your lap.
Jenna blinks, feeling dumb that she's made you think her silence is a bad thing.
"No..." She grabs your wrist. "Thank you for sharing with me."
You look into her eyes, feeling a bit small at her kind eyes. You know it's not out of pity but you couldn't help but want to close up again.
Pulling your hand away from her grip, you cough. "Of course, we're friends now."
"Oh, are we?" Jenna ignores the drop in her chest when you pulled away like that. “Okay, what’s the press answer then?”
��That I watched the movie Cabaret when I was younger and wanted to be like Liza Minelli.” You admit.
Jenna scoffs, “That’s literally my answer.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah except, it’s Dakota Fanning in Man on Fire.”
You chuckle, “doesn’t Denzel die in that one?”
“Yeah and what about it?” She raised a brow.
"But see, don’t fight it we’re meant to be friends... we even share the same answer."
"Shut up, dummy. Every actor has some sort of answer like that.”
Eventually, the two of you start a marathon of the Scream franchise. Which in hindsight, is kind of a bad idea seeing as it was way past midnight and the other actress still has a long week ahead of her. It seems like the events of the day catch up to her cause you feel a head slipping on your shoulder; distracting your focus halfway through Scream 3.
Jenna had fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder. You fight the urge to tense up not wanting to wake her up. She looked like she needed the rest and you relate more than anyone to her exhaustion.
“Jenna…” You lightly tap, “You fell asleep, you need to go to bed.”
She grumbles, whining in her slumber. You feels your cheeks warm when she unconsciously moves to snuggle closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist.
Fuck.
Really?
God, I am not your strongest soldier.
“Jen, seriously. Wake up.” You shake her arm.
“What?” She complains, her words muffled by your collarbone.
“You need to go to bed.”
The feeling of her soft lashes brushing against the material of your shirt as she blinks sends a shiver down your spine. “Oh…”
Jenna mumbles mortified. Quickly pushing herself off of you, unable to look you in the eyes. “Sorry.”
You don't mention how she might have punched your stomach and that you were desperately trying not to cough.
“S’okay…” You shake your head softly. You couldn't help but notice the way her hair fell over her eyes messily.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks once she regains her senses, waking up from her short slumber.
Something tells Jenna she won’t be sleeping with how fast her heart is pounding; uncertain as to where her sudden anxiety is coming from.
“Yeah… I’ll be waiting for you inside.” You stand gathering your belongings.
“Wait, you’re not walking the carpet with me?” Jenna pulled a face.
You raise a brow, “No? At least, I wasn't told I had to. They just said I had to show up.”
“Oh… okay.” She nods then sighed, long and profound.
You continue to raise a brow but don’t say anything. Not wanting to push her. You remember the last time you guys fought and are immediately turned off. No thanks, not trying to open that can of worms.
“Okay. Goodnight then.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.” She leans against the door.
Her premiere is a success. After borderline shoving you inside a tinted Cadillac, Link brushes your vintage Prada gown down; making sure you are in tip-top movie-star shape. You don’t walk the carpet, instead heading straight inside – making headlines.
Your every damn move is a headline these days.
Silently thanking whatever God was out there that you didn’t because the way your jaw dropped when you see Jenna was downright embarrassing. Your reaction would surely have been a running piece if cameras were around.
Your managers would love it though.
Link had to forcefully elbow your side as Jenna walks up to greet you.
“Wow…” You manage to say. “You look stunning Jenna.”
Jenna was glad for the dim lights in the theatre, “Thanks.” She blushes, casting her eyes down.
“You look great too.” She scans you up and down, suddenly feeling warm under her gape.
Maybe it was the way her makeup is done or the deconstructed tuxedo for a dress that she had on tonight but she looked more mature, intimidating? Like she could throw you around a little and you’d just gladly ask her to do it again.
Wait, what?
“Thanks… Link and I should head to our seats but I just wanted to congratulate you. This is seriously amazing.” You express sincerely.
Jenna flushes more, waving you off with a huff and a lazy hand. “Please.”
“Seriously!”
Link coughs loudly, interrupting the bubble you and Jenna found yourselves in. “Okay, someone’s a little impatient. We better go.”
A hand reaches out, grabbing you. “Do you wanna, maybe, I don’t know. Sit beside me?”
You turn, surprised. “Oh? What about Enrique?” You glance at her stylist standing just behind her pretending like he wasn’t listening; fiddling on his phone.
“I’m sure he won’t mind switching to sit with Link, right Enrique?” She turns, asking her friend.
He grins widely, “Nope. All good with me!”
“Perfect!” She smiles at you, still grabbing your arm.
“We’ll be down there!” Jenna calls out to Link and Enrique linking your fingers out of nowhere as you walk to beside her costars.
You still don’t say anything when Jenna wraps herself around you when you make it to your seats, waving as people cheer with a large smile before pulling you to sit down.
Only then did she pull herself away, “sorry about that.”
“All good.” You mumble after realizing what happened; turning to face the large screen.
Perfect photo op.
“Hey is that sharpie on your dress?”
“Yes.” She sighs.
The rest of the night goes off without a hitch but you can’t stop the growing unpleasantness in your chest. You decide to brush it off and save face for Jenna’s night. Your sulking and feelings can wait in the privacy of your own four walls and definitely not at a high-profile movie premiere.
By the time you found yourself at the NBC building in a random dressing room at the SNL studio, waiting for Jenna’s monologue you forget all about it. You lay lazily on a stiff and most likely old couch, scrolling through your phone.
A knock on the door has you pulling off your headphones. “Come in.”
“Hey Y/N.” A head peaks in making you sit up briskly. “Aliyah, hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just uh– Jenna’s asking for you.” She sends a sheepish smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
“Oh,” Your head perks up. “Is she okay?” You question, following the smaller girl past hallways that all looked the same; trying not to bump into the various stagehands buzzing around.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s kinda freaking out, though and… we can’t get her to calm down.” You both stop at a closed door.
“Oh… why me?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“Uh… okay she didn’t exactly say you but I saw your episode and you were hilarious and who better to talk her down than someone who’s done it before.” She flashes a large grin before opening the door and shoving you inside.
The room is empty save for Jenna dressed in a short-legged suit. You force yourself to blink, reminding yourself that you are on a time crunch.
“Jenna.”
She snaps her head at your voice, and a noticeable tremble in her fingers is the first thing you see. “What–what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in your seat by now.”
“Your sister asked me to come.” You admit, walking forward.
“I’m fine. Go to your seat, I’ll see you after the show.” She turns her back to you, looking over sheets of paper with multi-coloured inked notes scribbled on every open space.
“Take a deep breath for me, Jenna.” You walk closer, slowly bringing the hand tightly clutching her notes down. The bones in her fingers relax as she drops the paper. She doesn’t say anything when you don’t disconnect your hands.
You find yourself standing much closer to her.
“Take a deep breath.” You repeat.
Jenna closes her eyes, inhaling a long, deep and audible breath in then out. She clutches your fingers as she does so, unconsciously leaning back against you to ground her bubbling anxiety.
She stays in your hold with her back against your chest: a death grip on your fingers. Your swipe a thumb over the skin of her hand. “It’ll be okay…”
“Thanks…” Jenna looks into your eyes, taking one last deep breath.
Briefly, you hold her gaze feeling tepid under the intense look in her eyes. You can’t tell what they're saying but for some reason, the way her dark pupils seemed softer under the fluorescent lights had you under a spell.
And for a fleeting second, you thought she was leaning in closer to you — eyes flickering to your lips.
“Don’t mention it.” You drop her hand immediately, taking wide steps back.
Not liking the way her eyes flickered down.
You don’t like what that could possibly mean.
Jenna’s turning rapidly, pretending not to notice as you take sizable steps away from her. “What did my sister say?”
You laugh, shoving your hands in your jacket. “That she liked my SNL episode and thought someone who’s done it before can talk you down.”
“Talk me down?” She scrunches her nose.
“Don’t shoot the messenger.” You shrug.
“Your episode was okay.” Jenna turns away to face a mirror, brushing away her bangs.
You take the bait, glad she wasn’t trembling anymore. “Okay? I got the whole cast to break, it’s considered a classic. It was nominated for an Emmy that year.”
“It didn’t win though.”
You scoff playfully, “I’m leaving. You clearly don’t need my help anymore.”
She laughs obnoxiously as you stomp out of her dressing room. “Wait.”
You stop just before you open the door. “Yeah?”
“Thank you… for talking me down.” She tucks a hair backs, a little shy.
The small smile creeping on your face is hard to subdue. “Don’t mention it. Now, go. You’re gonna kill it.” You wink, exiting the dressing room.
“She’s all good.” You tell her team.
“That’s it? She hasn’t calmed down all day, it takes you – what, five minutes?” Enrique crosses his arms. Jenna’s mom smirks, patting his back then walked past him and into the room as the rest of her family slowly trickled in; her sisters staring at you intensely.
“Uh sorry?” You blush furiously, walking off in the other direction to find your seat.
Jenna kills it, but that was never a surprise. You can tell she’s nervous throughout her monologue but after Fred Armisen does his bit – from beside you, which had been a pleasant surprise. She begins to grow confident, feeling pleased with your embarrassment when the camera pans to you and Fred.
You’d get her back for that. Making a mental note to cook up a special revenge plan, just for her.
Eventually, she falls into the role naturally. Nailing her punchlines perfectly, working the crowd like an expert, and exquisitely performing her skits. It’s a shock to you when you overhear someone behind you say she’s never done live stage work before.
She's so natural at it.
It's a privilege to watch her perform.
You nearly die when she changes into a red suit as she introduces the musical guest of the night.
Actually, you begin to slide off your seat when she comes out in a pinstripe suit — a reference to the Addams family you overheard in passing.
When credits roll and the ‘LIVE’ sign turns off. You remain in your seat. Unsure if you are just admiring her or if it’s ‘cause your legs no longer functioned. You can’t fight that admiration as it grows when you see how supportive her family is as they cheer her on and celebrate this win as one unit.
You smile, wishing you can relate. At least some people had that in their lives.
A part of you thinks it makes the whole world’s difference, having a support system like that. But you would never know.
Silently, you slip out the stage doors and back to the random dressing room you’ve decided to take refuge in.
You narrowly miss Jenna trying to find you through the masses; her smile dropping a bit when she realizes you’re gone.
–
You don’t get a chance to personally congratulate Jenna because Link was bursting into the dressing room — after complaining about trying to find you for ten minutes. Rambling on how you’re needed back in Los Angeles and there was no time to say goodbye.
When you catch the other actress it’s by pure stroke of luck. You're going through checkout at the hotel, waiting for Link to do all the work as you wait behind him.
You feel slightly guilty that you're just leaving without warning.
You should send Jenna a text, right? But would she even care if you left so suddenly? She did want you out of the city just a few days ago.
But then, you two literally just, might’ve, maybe, almost kissed/shared a moment in her dressing room, so who knows what you should do at this point.
You feel a migraine forming at the base of your skull, the longer you thought about the other actress.
“Y/N?” A voice breaks your self-deprecating thoughts. You turn to see Jenna with her team and family trailing beside her.
Jenna’s smile falls when she sees your bags. Her family walks ahead but you certainly don’t miss their curious eyes as she stops in front of you.
“Where are you going?” Her eyes keep flickering between you and your bags.
Link avoids her sharp, accusing eyes.
“Back to L.A. sorry I was just about to send you a text, actually.” You confessed, a little ashamed.
It felt like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing… like when you lie to your long-time partner about the real reason why you want some time apart.
“A text?” She raises an unamused brow not liking your answer.
“Yeah, Jake wants me back in L.A. Uh– sorry, was I supposed to tell you?” You ask, a bit confused.
“Tell me?” She scoffs, face dropping. “Yeah, you’re supposed to tell me. I was going to invite you to dinner to celebrate with my family and the SNL cast tonight. But you weren’t even in the audience anymore by the time I finished.”
“Sorry… I thought you’d want to celebrate with your family.” You shrug lamely, torn between feeling guilty and confused at her reaction to the news of your sudden departure.
She made it feel like you were trying to escape.
“Well, I thought–”
She cuts herself off with a huff then looked back as her family waits for her by the elevator.
“Thought what?”
As if remembering she was still out in a very public setting, after hosting one of the most recognizable programs in America; Jenna blinks out of it. Shoving her feelings down.
“Nothing. Have a safe flight back to L.A. I’ll see you in a few days… or weeks” She mumbles with an edginess to her words, walking away before you can say anything else.
“Tough break, buddy.” Link pats a comforting hand on your shoulder as you were rendered speechless. Unsure if you should chase her down and apologize.
Damn can she walk fast in those heels.
But, why would you be apologizing for having to do your job?
But the way her brow creased like she was actually upset caused an unpleasant drop in your chest. Not enjoying how she was upset and that it seemed like it was all your fault. You? Nah. Maybe she’s still dealing with other stuff and is just taking it out on you.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“What. Just. Happened.” You turn, aggressively snatching your card from the hotel worker who definitely enjoyed the show.
“Are you blind?” He scoffs then walks away from you.
“What do you mean? Link… what do you mean?”
-
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You're the Only One Who Knows to Slow it Down | s5
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 16.2k
warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, major character death, gun violence, drinking, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 5x01, 5x02, 5x06, 5x09, 5x10, and 5x21
a/n: This season was really hard to write at points (I think we all know which eps I'm talking about lol) but I'm looking forward to brighter days ahead:') Also we get some more tangible tension so yay! Title is from Look After You by The Fray
series masterlist
"We're not working a case," Derek states matter-of-factly when you arrive at the crime scene. You were woken up early the next morning after getting back from Canada, and on less than four hours of sleep, your brain is struggling to function.
"Why call us to a crime scene?" you ask, walking up to the front door of the house with the rest of the team.
He shrugs. "I was hoping you knew."
You look around, trying to find Aaron, but he's nowhere in sight. He had promised to put in the team request for a few days of leave, but you presume the call came in before he got a chance to do so.
The local police let you survey the scene, explaining that a Dr. Barton got a threatening letter that someone would be murdered everyday that he didn't give up his own son. Once you're done inspecting the body, you turn to JJ, lowering your voice. "Where's Hotch?"
"He's not answering his cell," she says, her lips thinning. "I assume it's on vibrate."
You nod. "I'll try him again."
You step away from the group and click his number in your speed dial, listening to the rings until it reaches his voicemail. It's unlike him to keep his phone on silent, but you know the previous night was tough on everyone. "Hey, it's me." You tell him the address you're heading to for the case, before turning towards the car and lowering your voice. "I know you're probably just asleep, but I don't know...I have that weird feeling again that you know I get...so please just call me back." You take a deep breath, hoping you're being overdramatic, and that you'll see him pull up in a few minutes. "See you soon."
When you get to Dr. Barton's house, he still hasn't called you back. You sit with the doctor, Prentiss, and Reid in his living room, going through his recent patient files, while Morgan, JJ, and Rossi head to the school to find his son.
"Something set this guy off," Emily explains as you start poring over the records. "Odds are it's in your files."
You manage to get through about a dozen before Dr. Barton stands up with a sigh. "My son is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all of these patients in time."
You check your phone again, mostly to see the time, but you also note that there aren't any new calls or messages. "He's right. We need more eyes on this. I can get Hotch and be back in a half hour."
"Keep us updated," Emily says, nodding at you. Concern flashes across her eyes for a millisecond, and you're sure it reflects the look in yours.
The drive to his apartment doesn't take long, and you stalk down the hall, all the way to the end, until you find his door. There's no answer the first time you knock, so you reach for the spare key he gave you, but before you can use it, you realize the door is already unlocked.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you pull your gun out, using it to push open the door carefully. "Aaron? Aaron, it's me."
When the door is ajar, the sight before you almost makes you drop your gun. There's a large bullet hole in the far wall, along with a patch of drying blood and bits of broken glass on the floor. His phone is on the ground as well, and his gun and holster are lying on his dining table.
You crouch down on your heels, trying to calm your breathing, as you take in your surroundings. You need to think logically about this, or you'll be no help at all.
A few things come to you as your mind clears.
His car is still outside.
No blood splatter around the bullet hole.
No drag marks.
You dig your hand around your back pocket and pull out your phone, dialing Garcia as fast as you can. "Overtime shift, Penelope speaking."
Her chipper voice usually calms you down, but right now you need to cut to the chase. "Garcia, it's me. Something's happened to Hotch. You need to get an APB out on him."
Her breath stutters. "What do you mean, something?"
"There's blood on the floor," you whisper, willing your voice not to crack as your throat thickens with tears. "There's also a bullet hole in the wall, probably a .44."
"I'll send the whole team," she says before you cut her off.
"No, don't call the team. They need to finish the case we were assigned. Just tell Emily, since she's expecting me back, but send every other agent in the vicinity."
"On it."
The line clicks off and you release your breath, before standing up again. While you wait for the crime scene techs, you poke around his things in the main area, trying to see if anything has been taken or moved. The only thing you notice before they arrive is that a page has been ripped from his address book.
"Agent L/N?" a voice calls from the doorway.
You lift your hand. "Yeah, in here."
They come inside and get to work immediately, so you step out, just in time for Garcia to call you back. "Y/N, I checked local hospitals for his name, and I didn't find anything at first, but then one of them told me something really strange."
"Garcia," you whisper through gritted teeth. You love her, but she needs to hurry up before you explode. "What was it?"
"Someone dropped off a John Doe at St. Sebastian hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."
Your vision turns black for a moment. He's back. Foyet's back.
You're rushing to your car before she has a chance to hang up.
***
He's still under anesthesia when you arrive at the hospital. He was stabbed nine times. That's what the nurse told you when you flashed your credentials and asked for any information she could give you.
Now, you're standing in his doorway, trying to build up the nerve to approach his sleeping form. Even with all of the bandages covering his arms and abdomen, he somehow looks peaceful. It's been so long since you've seen his brow unfurrowed, his forehead smooth, without the tension that invades his daily life.
After a few minutes, you take a step inside, then another, and suddenly you're right beside him, reaching out to clutch his hand over the bedsheet.
His skin is cold, and you wrap both hands around his to warm it up, if even by just a little. He's usually a furnace, generating his own heat even when it's freezing out, but whenever he gets hurt, his hands turn to ice.
After a minute, your phone buzzes in your pocket and you let him go to answer it. It's just Emily telling you that she's at the hospital with the rest of the team, and you walk out into the hall to talk to them.
Rossi is the first to reach you. He squeezes you into a hug before getting back to business. "You sure it was Foyet?"
"He had Morgan's credentials," you nod, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck. Derek glances at you then, and you press your lips together with a nod.
"Did they catch him on the security cam?"
"You could see him dropping Hotch off," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady, "but the camera's only on the entrance, so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital."
Emily shakes her head. "It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the E.R."
The nurse from earlier approaches you then, pulling your attention. "Agents, he's waking up."
You shuffle inside and take his hand again as everyone walks in.
His voice is soft when he opens his eyes. "Where am I?"
"In the hospital," Emily whispers, taking care to be mindful of her volume.
He shuts his eyes for a beat. "How did I get here?"
"Foyet drove you." Rossi doesn't frown often, but the lines of his face are clearer than ever. "Can you remember what happened?"
Hotch shakes his head, closing his eyes. "What did he take? The Reaper always takes something from his victims."
"There was an address page missing from your day planner," you whisper, finally finding your voice. "In the B's."
His eyes snap open and he tries to lift his head from the pillow, but he can only wince. "Where are my clothes?"
Emily hands him a plastic bag filled with his belongings, and he ruffles through them, until he finds his wallet. When he opens it, a photograph is stuffed inside, covered in blood spatter. Haley and Jack.
Your breath catches, and he seems to realize what it means at the same moment you do. "Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the B's in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands."
You squeeze his hand involuntarily, and he exhales sharply. "He knows where they live."
***
When the rest of the team rushes off to his old house, you stay with him at the hospital. You get a call soon from JJ that Haley and Jack are just fine, and you are finally able to breathe easy for the first time all day.
"They're okay," you tell him when you hang up the phone. "That was JJ. She said Haley was home and Jack's at a playdate, but Morgan is going to pick him up right now."
He nods slowly, his body relaxing into the bed. "Good. That's good."
"It is," you say, eyeing his movements. It's still enormously difficult to look at him like this, but you won't be able to move forward if you don't know the truth. "Aaron, what happened? What did he do?"
"I don't remember all of it," he says slowly, clearly taking his time with each word. There's no rush, and he knows it. Even if it takes him hours to get it all out, you'll still be here. "I remember him being there when I got home, after I dropped you off. He fired off a shot into the wall, and then I tried to tackle him, but..."
He trails off, and you squeeze his hand tighter, as though trying to tether him to the present moment. After a few shallow breaths, he continues. "I tried to tackle him, and I got him on the ground, but then he overpowered me." You can almost see it in your mind. The picture he's painting as he weaves over the details with startling clarity. "The first one hurt the most."
The first stab. Your eyes close for a beat, like you're trying to hide from his words. The first of nine.
"I don't remember much after that." You can tell he's leaving things out, but you also don't know if you'll be able to handle it if he does tell you everything.
"That's okay," you whisper as his eyes droop down. "You should rest."
He nods slowly as the exhaustion takes over and his grip loosens around your hand as he falls asleep.
You wait by his side for about a half hour, until you spot a familiar face (with a new haircut) dawdling in the hallway.
You stand up in a fervor. "Oh, thank god."
You rush over to Haley and pull her into a hug, which she returns just as forcefully. "JJ called us when she found you, but it's still really good to see your face."
"It's good to see you too," she says with an exhale before letting you go. You look down and see Jack standing next to her, his mouth downturned as his fingers twiddle at his sides. "Do you mind staying with him while I go talk to Aaron?"
You turn around and see that he's blinking his eyes open again. "Not at all." You take Jack's hand with a smile and lead him down the hall.
"I'm sorry if the big men scared you," you tell him once you find a few seats in the waiting area. "I know it was all very sudden."
To your surprise, his face breaks out into a big grin. "Uncle Derek let me turn on the siren!"
"Wow!" you smile, feeling warm laughter echo around your chest. "That sounds super fun."
He nods ecstatically, before leaning his head over to look back up the hall. "Can I see Daddy now?"
Your smile falls as fast as it appeared and you take his hand again, pressing his fingers between yours. "Soon, baby, soon."
***
He wakes up to the sound of faint talking. He can vaguely see you hugging someone, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision as you disappear down the hall.
"How do you feel?" Haley asks as she walks into his hospital room. She doesn't come further than the foot of the bed, but he's just glad to see her here, in one piece.
He clears his throat quietly. "I'm gonna be okay." She doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't want to focus on him right now. "Did they explain to you what's happening?"
She nods slowly, looking at him for another moment. "They said the Marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody."
She looks upset, and it takes him back to the lowest moments of their relationship. "Haley, I'm sorry."
She looks down and the familiar urge to comfort her returns, even while lying in a hospital bed. "Do you know where they're gonna take us?"
"No, I don't." He tries to catch her eye but she won't look at him. "And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."
She finally looks at him then, and her sadness is tinged with exasperation. "Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now."
He doesn't know what else to say but: "I know. I'm sorry." He hopes he's conveying what he means, but it doesn't feel like enough. "We will catch him, and you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you."
She nods minutely, and he takes the small comfort. "Are you sure that we're in danger?"
"Yes." There's little else he's been more sure of.
"And what about you?" she asks, her voice small. "Are you gonna be safe?"
He doesn't want to worry her, but he also doesn't want to lie. "He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can't see him is better than killing me."
Her brow pinches and she pushes her short hair back from her forehead. "Jack wants to come in."
He tries to argue at first, not because he doesn't want to see him, but because it will only make it harder to let him go again, but eventually she convinces him to accede.
She leaves to go get him, and he leans back on the pillows, trying not to let himself sink inside.
~
Haley finds you in the waiting area, with Jack sitting on your lap, in the middle of a game of I Spy.
"Is he ready for him?" you whisper when you see her approach. She nods and you lift Jack off your lap and set him on his feet. "Off you go, buddy. Time to see Daddy."
"Yay!" he cheers before racing down the hall, you and Haley right behind him. She steers him into the correct room, and he jumps onto the bed before either of you can stop him.
There's a quiet chorus of 'be careful's before he grunts, "Don't worry. It's okay. The doctors made sure that I'm completely fine." He turns to the small boy with a smile you haven't seen in days. "Did Mommy tell you that you two are gonna take a trip?"
Jack nods once, moving his chin up and down dramatically. "Yeah."
"So I'm not gonna see you for a while."
Jack frowns. "Why?" The word sounds so small out of his mouth, and your heart cracks in your chest.
"Well, think about it like when Daddy goes away for work. Only this time you and Mommy get to go someplace."
Jack ponders this for a few seconds, before crawling up again and wrapping his arms around his dad's neck. "Are you okay?"
"I'm very proud of you." It's a father's answer. The kind of response that doesn't tell the truth, but hides the pain with love. "Every single day. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay."
Haley says another goodbye and grabs Jack's hand before leading him out of the room. She gives you another hug, squeezing extra tight for the last second. "It's not his fault."
"Of course it isn't," you whisper, letting her pull back.
"No," she whispers, closing her eyes. "I mean, don't let him blame himself for this."
He's one of the most stoic people you know, but he can also be so transparent sometimes. "I won't. I'll be here."
"He needs you," she says with a sad smile. "He's always needed you, but he especially needs you now."
She doesn't let you respond before she's tugging Jack down the hall. You watch as she exits the side door of the wing, and only turn back when you can't see her anymore. She's one of your longest friends, and you won't be able to see her or her son for god knows how long.
When you step back into the room, you stand at the foot of his bed, trying to gauge what he needs from you, but then you see his expression. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and his mouth twists as you rush forward and grab his hand, squeezing it between yours with the grip of someone holding onto a life preserver.
"They'll be okay," you whisper, trying to keep your own tears back. "We'll get through this."
He nods, his eyes still shining. You move to sit in the chair beside him, but he tugs you back, pulling you closer. You understand the desperate look in his eyes, the need for connection and comfort from someone you care about that you've seen in yourself on so many occasions.
Slipping your shoes off, you tuck the sheet into his side and carefully climb onto the little hospital bed, taking care to avoid any of the wires and tubes. Once you're sure you're not pulling on anything, you curl up beside him and wrap yourself around his arm. His skin is warmer than it was earlier, and you take solace in the fact that he's going to be okay. Maybe not now, but he will be.
Your breaths synchronize with his and you listen to the beeping of the heart monitor as your own heart rate calms down. There's a feeling tugging at your spine, filling you up and threatening to spill over, but you shove it down, knowing it will be too much right now. You don't have the words to describe the emotions circulating through your brain, so you stick with what you know. "I love you." It's quiet, barely a whisper, but you know he can hear you. "Thank you for staying alive."
"You're welcome," he whispers back, his voice barely audible over the monitor. "I love you too."
***
You leave the hospital the next morning with a plan. He's still asleep when you wake up, so you get up carefully and thank the nurses one more time before heading out.
You make two stops on the way to his apartment, and this time, you use your spare key to unlock the front door. The crime scene crew cleaned the blood off the floor, and you told Rossi to get them to spackle the hole in the wall, for at least a temporary fix, but there's still an air about the place. It was just starting to feel like his home, and now it's soiled, once again.
You shut the door behind you and drop your bags to the ground, surveying the place one last time for any damage or mess you missed earlier. When everything seems fine, you get to work.
An hour later, you slump back against the wall and toss the packet of instructions to the ground. In front of you is a freshly installed security system, with a door proximity sensor and keypad for when he leaves the house in a hurry.
You can already hear the arguments coming, but you don't care anymore. You won't be able to sleep knowing he's in here, all alone, without anything to keep Foyet from coming back and finishing the job.
For someone who has as little of a technical background as you do, you're impressed with how quickly you were able to get the system running, and you test it a couple of times, turning it on and off and checking the doors, before you finally pull his door closed and lock it behind you.
***
The doctors don't release him until the end of the week, but once he's able to walk again, he calls you to get him from the hospital. By the time he signs his discharge papers and makes the phone call, you're already almost there, and as much as he hates putting you out on a weekend, he can't help the satisfaction that rumbles through him.
The drive to his apartment is mostly silent, with him just trying to stay still as you take the turns carefully, and drive five under the speed limit. When you arrive, you hold the bag of salves and ointments for him as you take his arm, helping him down the hall and to his front door.
He moves to grab his key, but you stop him with a forceful "Wait!"
"I can unlock my own door," he grumbles, but you just shake your head, taking the key from him and turning it slowly in the lock. The moment it swings open, a loud beeping fills the air, and you rush forward to type something into the keypad by his door. Wait...keypad? "When did tha-"
"Before you argue," you jump in, clearly anticipating his disgruntlement, "it's for me, okay."
He raises an eyebrow and you glare at him, but there's no effort behind it. "I mean, it's obviously for you, but still...it's for my peace of mind too."
You're rambling makes him crack a smile for the first time in days, and he nods slowly. "Okay."
Your mouth snaps shut and you look at him with a meek smile. "Okay."
You help him get settled on the couch, and he waits there as you scrounge up some food from the kitchen. He's not sure he has anything perishable, but you manage to put together a comforting bowl of pasta with jarred tomato sauce that makes him feel a little more at home.
As the evening turns to night, he catches himself glancing at his watch more often than not, and eventually you catch on too.
"Is it time?" you ask, your voice gentle.
After a breath, he nods, and you reach across the coffee table to grab his bag of supplies from the doctor. You lay the salve and extra gauze on the table, and wait for him to make the next move, a decision he accepts gratefully.
He's been injured before. He knows how painful it is to sanitize a wound, and especially one as deep and grotesque as his. He just needs a few moments to accept the fact that he's...scared.
"I can do it," he says once he's ready, before reaching for the salve. The simple motion makes him wince and you jump in right away, grabbing it for him and undoing the top.
"Let me," you whisper, your words somewhere between a statement and a question. "Please."
He can already feel his stitches pulling, just from the simple act of swiveling his body to face you, so he gives in with a quick nod.
He doesn't look at you as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. He's not embarrassed - you've never pitied him, even at his lowest moments - but he needs the semblance of privacy as he exposes his injuries to the open air.
The air feels cold as he pulls his undershirt over his head, and you get to work immediately, peeling back the old layer of gauze as slowly as you can. The sections directly over his wounds stick slightly, and he grits his teeth against the pain as you gently tug them free, making sure to avoid pulling his stitches.
"Do you want a break?" you ask once the gauze has been fully removed. He shakes his head, needing this to be over as soon as possible, but when he meets your eyes, he sees them welling up with tears.
He glances down at his bare torso, his eyes darting over the jagged scars ranging from his stomach to his collarbone. Your breath stutters as you take it in with him, and he looks at you. "He made sure we'd match."
He sees you rapidly blinking away the tears that rush forward, and he wants to comfort you somehow, but he doesn't know what to do. You help him lean back on the armrest, so you can apply the salve around each of his injuries, and as your fingers press into his skin, he can't help but be reminded of his childhood. The pressure of your hands as you wrapped him with bandages, the warmth of your breath when you leaned in to inspect your work.
It's usually a sad memory when he thinks back to his childhood, but with you, it was always good. He watches as you slowly tape the new layer of gauze around his abdomen, and even as tears slide down your cheeks, the way you look at him doesn't change.
"All done," you whisper after pressing on the final pieces of tape. "How do you feel?"
Anxious. Terrified. Lonely. Guilty. "Good. Thank you."
***
"Hey, it's Emily."
"What's up, Em?" you say, your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you hop around, trying to get your shoes on before work.
"How was your weekend?"
You pause. "Fine?" The question isn't out of the ordinary, you're just not sure why she called to ask you that when she's going to be seeing you in person in about twenty minutes. "How was yours?"
"Oh, you know." She sounds distracted, and you feel a smile pull at your lips as you realize she's avoiding something.
"Em...is there a reason you called? You know, given that we're both on our way to the same place."
She clears her throat, and you hear the indecision in her voice, even over the phone. "I know this is kind of a weird question, but would you mind if I picked up Hotch for work this morning. I left late last night, so JJ was able to brief me early, and I figured he could use a headstart."
You stop your movements, straightening up and lifting your hand to your cell. It's not at all what you were expecting her to say, but that's not all you're confused about. "Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask me first, though. We're all teammates."
She makes an little noise that you don't recognize. "Yeah...but you two are different."
You don't know what to say to that, so you just wait for her to keep going. Emily was never very good at uncomfortable silences, so after a few moments, she's back. "Anyway...I'll grab Hotch and see you in 30?"
You try to hide your grin, even though no one can see you. "Sounds like it."
"Bye."
The phone clicks off, and you tuck it back into your pocket, still smiling. You're already in a better mood than normal, because after 34 days of medical leave, Aaron comes back to work today.
You finish clasping your shoe and head out the door, more relaxed this time. With Emily picking up Aaron, you're not in a rush anymore. You take the drive at a leisurely pace, and when you arrive at the office, you run into Spencer by the front of the building.
"Wait up!" you call out, jogging over to him before he gets in the elevator. "Let me get that." You slide the strap of his book bag off his shoulder and sling it onto yours. He nods in thanks and tucks his crutch under his arm as he presses the button for your floor.
"I thought I'd be used to the crutches by now, but I keep tripping over everything." You scrunch your brow with amusement as he frowns down at his leg. "The doctors say it's healing well, though."
The elevator doors open and you step in front of him to get the door across the hall. "Does it hurt?"
He shrugs. "It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time."
The statement isn't exactly comical, but his deadpan tone makes you snort as you hold the door, and he smiles as he passes by you. You follow him to Garcia's lair, and she perks up upon seeing the both of you.
"My babies," she grins, pulling out a chair for Spencer. "Sit, sit."
You let out a laugh as you place his bag on the floor next to him. "I'm older than you."
"Who's counting?" she throws back, typing something furiously into her computer. She turns around a moment later, just in time to swat Spencer's hand away from the tin of cookies sitting on her table. "No, no, no."
"What?" he complains, gaping at her.
She swats him again, before pulling the tin away from him. "Get away, you. These are for Hotch."
"Butterscotch?" you ask, glancing down at the box. His preference for butterscotch cookies was something you used to tease him about when you were kids. Butterscotch Hotch.
Penelope nods and lifts the edge of the lid, implicitly offering you a cookie. When you take one, Spencer throws his hands up into the air. "Why does she get one? I get shot in the leg and I still don't get any cookies."
You laugh and break off half of your cookie, which he takes from you the moment it's in your palm. He stuffs the entire thing into his mouth, not bothering to swallow it before he pipes up again. "You know he's gonna hate the attention."
"It's cookies," Garcia pouts, "not cake."
Spencer shrugs. "He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened, anyway."
"Well, it doesn't mean we have to."
You don't know how to weigh in to this discussion, mostly because you know more about how he's feeling than they do, but also because the idea of speculating on his recovery without him here feels like a betrayal.
"What do you think?"
You look up and realize that Spencer was directing this question to you. Swallowing down the last bit of your cookie, you cough once to clear your throat. "I think he's been through a lot, but sometimes coming back to work is the best way to take your mind off of things. Foyet was in his home. I don't think staring at the same walls that used to have bullet holes in them is exactly healthy either."
Spencer and Penelope both stare at you for a moment, before nodding and looking down. They remind you of two children who have just been reprimanded, and you smile to soften the sentiment. "I love you guys for caring about this, but we just have to trust that he's okay."
"Yeah," Penelope nods, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. "Are you okay? This can't have been easy for you, either."
"I'm fine," you say too quickly. "Nothing happened to me." It's not a lie, exactly. You weren't the one who was stabbed. Nine times. "I've just been keeping him company after work, and helping with some of his post-hospital care checklist."
"He's lucky to have you," Penelope says softly, to which Spencer nods.
"He was great too after I got shot," you add, feeling oddly defensive of your friendship. "He stayed with me for a long time when my dad was gone."
She smiles at you sadly, before holding the tin out for you. "Want another cookie?"
You let out a weak laugh as Spencer chuffs behind you, and you shake your head. "No thanks."
"Do you think he'll like them?" Her voice sounds earnest, and you nod, knowing what it's like to want so desperately to understand someone who's as closed off as he seems at times.
"Spence, Y/N, there you guys are."
You turn around to see JJ, her face lined with tension. "Are you ready for us?"
She nods. "Grab your go bag."
***
He's been erratic all day. When he snapped at Garcia earlier for missing the antipsychotics link, you wanted to throttle him, especially when you remembered the cookies she had waiting for him in her office.
The thought that maybe Spencer was right keeps flashing through your mind as you watch him get frustrated with everyone, including himself. When you all arrive at the Darrin Call's father's house, where he and a young boy he kidnapped are waiting, Aaron instructs Emily to speak with the lieutenant on scene to figure out what you're dealing with.
"The kid's in there," you hear him say, "We've got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. Call needs a distraction. He's focused on the old man."
Emily glances back at the house as she ties her hair back. "For now. But we're gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out."
"I've got a team in the back and one on the way. We're going to infiltrate."
"You do that and someone else dies."
The man just shrugs. "Either Call or a child murderer...flip a coin."
"It doesn't have to end like that." You can see how hard she's trying to make the lieutenant understand, but sometimes the locals just don't listen. "We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die."
There's movement behind you and you turn around at the last second as Aaron stalks past you and towards the house.
"Hotch," you call out, but he doesn't look back. "Aaron. Aaron!"
He's almost at the front door, and your feet start moving without you realizing it. You make it within a few feet of the front gate before two pairs of arms seize you from behind, halting your momentum.
"Let him go," Dave whispers as he and Derek release you. "We have to trust him."
"He's not thinking straight," you grit out, unable to tear your eyes away from the closed door as you step forward again. He wasn't wearing his vest, and you can't remember if you saw his gun in his holster. You close your eyes, wracking your brain. Think, goddamnit.
Derek grabs you again as you try to make a break for it, anticipating your movements before you even know what you're doing. "Rossi's right. We have to trust him. We can't help him if we rush inside now."
"We can't help him out here either!" Your voice sounds frenzied in your ears, but he doesn't loosen his grip, even as you try to shove him off of you.
"You know we're right." He looks at you sternly, and your resolve diminishes as reason starts to set in. "Going inside will only make it worse."
Emily comes up from behind you and takes your arm, leading you back to the street in front of the house. You back up, but you don't turn around, ready to rush in the moment anything changes.
"What's he doing?" she asks Derek, her voice quiet, like she doesn't want you to hear.
"Stalling," he says simply. "He's got nothing to lose."
Your breath catches and you lift your hand to your chest, clutching the top of your vest like it's a lifeline. You want to scream at them, scream that he has everything to lose. He has a son, and an ex-wife who loves him, and he has you.
"You got the shot?"
"Negative."
He suddenly appears in the front of the door, but you can tell he's angling his body to block the visual of the shot. What is he doing?
The door opens for a split second, and the little boy runs down the porch and into the arms of one of the SWAT members. It shuts as fast as it opened up, and you only manage to see his face for a moment before he disappears into the house again.
For a minute, there's only silence, until the air is pierced with the sound of three gunshots, one after the other. Your body visibly flinches and you throw yourself forward and over the gate, pulling out your gun at the last moment as you breach the front door.
When you storm into the living room, Aaron is putting cuffs on Darrin. The father is dead in his recliner at the center of the room.
"What happened?" Dave asks from behind you.
He purses his lips. "I couldn't stop him." It's then that he finally looks up at you, but all you can do is glare. You don't know if you've ever been angrier in your life, and definitely not at him.
His brow dips with a mix of confusion and remorse, but you just stuff your gun back in its holster, spin around, and stalk out of the house. The fresh air outside feels like a welcome respite from the emotions swirling around inside of you, and you turn your face to the sky as your brain fires off millions of questions at once.
When did he get so reckless?
Is this all because of Foyet? The need to feel like he's getting something done, with his family on lockdown?
He comes out of the house then, and you're practically shaking from the relief that he is okay, but the anger isn't fading. You can feel it flooding your veins with each breath you take.
He hands Call off and approaches you slowly, stopping in front of you with a look you don't recognize.
"This is the job," he says simply, his voice almost cold. "You know what you signed up for."
"I know what I signed up for?" Your face twists with disbelief and you look at him with contempt. "Fuck you, Hotch." His face drops slightly and it only feeds your fight. You know him better than anyone else in this world, and that also means you know exactly how far you can push him until he cracks.
"This is what we do." His voice is tight, and you see your anger reflected in his eyes. "You knew that when you joined the team."
Emily and Dave exit the house, and you can feel their eyes flickering over to you, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.
"No," you grit out, shaking your head. "You don't get to be angry with me. You don't get to say that to me."
He looks at you for a beat before his face falls and you see all the fight leave him. He sighs, his brow pinching. "You're right."
You can practically see the war going on inside his head. The battle between fear and action, where there are no winners.
You nod as you look down at the ground, and he reaches forward to take your hand. He squeezes it tightly, before lifting it to his chest. "Y/N." I love you, I'm sorry.
You nod. "I know." I'm sorry too.
***
You've been looking at the text JJ sent you for the better part of an hour. Something's going on. Strauss was in Hotch's office and it looked bad.
You're reminded of his suspension and the two long weeks you worked here without him, and you internally resolve that it won't be happening again if you have any say at all.
The next morning, you're one of the last people to arrive, and you walk into a conversation that Spencer is having with Emily at his desk.
"You're not gonna believe this," he says, turning to you and lifting his hands dramatically. "Some moron just posted a blog called 'What would Carl Sagan do?' and it's completely illogical."
"L/N, what did I miss?"
You spin around to see Derek strutting into the bullpen, his phone held up in his hand.
"What do you mean?" you ask with a frown.
He looks at you expectantly, and you start to feel like you're on the outside of something you should know. "All the emails from Hotch..."
You yank your phone from your pocket and refresh your email. "I don't have any new ones."
"Me neither," Reid chimes in from next to you.
Derek doesn't wait another moment before he's barreling past you and up the stairs to Aaron's office.
"What was that about?" Spencer asks, a confused look on his face.
"I don't know," you say honestly, "but I think we're gonna find out soon."
~
"You wanted to see me?"
He nods and you step into his office, shutting the door behind you. Ever since his private conversation with Derek this morning, you've been obnoxiously curious about what's been going on with the team, but you also know when not to overstep your boundaries.
"Take a seat." He beckons to the couch on the far wall, and he sits down across from you when you plop down. "We have to talk about something."
"If you say Strauss suspended you again-" He cuts you off with a lift of his hand. You look at him sheepishly and nod. "You were saying..."
"This is going to sound odd, but just hear me out." You're starting to get worried, but he doesn't look anxious, so that's a start. You nod, and he continues. "The bureau thinks that my ability to lead this team has been compromised. They've been questioning me since Foyet's attack, and they're not entirely wrong."
You want to refute this, but you've also been questioning some of his actions as of late. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that you won't have his back if it comes down to it. "They can't fire you. The whole team will fight back if they even try."
He looks at you with something that resembles concern. Concern? "They won't fire me...because I'm stepping down."
"What?" you burst out, unable to help your volume. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm resigning as unit chief at the end of the week, but I'm not leaving this team."
You think you have an idea of where this is going, but his eyes are still tracking your movements, like they do when he's worried about how you'll react. You don't know how it could get much worse than this, but then you realize he hasn't told you who will be replacing him.
"I told Morgan to take my place until we catch Foyet."
There it is. You don't expect it to sting as much as it does. "Oh."
Your voice sounds small to your own ears, and you clear your throat to keep the emotion out. This isn't a personal decision, it's professional. If Strauss was telling you this now, it probably wouldn't faze you. So why does it hurt coming from him?
"Strauss wasn't happy with your decision to not take the New York position," he explains, his eyes finding yours. "You know I think you deserve more leadership roles. It was her that suggested Morgan for it, and I couldn't argue when she was already so unsure about letting me promote internally."
"I get it," you nod. Your tone a bit sharper than expected, even though you understand where the decision came from. Derek deserves this position too. "I do, I promise."
He raises his eyebrows with a check in, and after a moment, you finally nod. It's okay. We're good.
"I'll see you in the morning?"
You dip your chin. "Good night."
***
"I can't believe Hotch is stepping down."
Penelope, Emily, Spencer, and JJ are all unabashedly watching Derek as he briefs Strauss on the case he chose for today. You've been trying not to look, but every few minutes, something snags your attention.
"Morgan said it's business as usual," Emily adds, her brow furrowed as she watches them converse.
Penelope doesn't seem eased. "So we're just supposed to move forward without any discussion?"
Spencer shrugs. "After Foyet, I think we'd have to be ready for anything."
Derek finishes speaking with Strauss then, and you stand up as he asks Emily to call Rossi for the briefing. He looks official with his ironed button-down, and you can't help but wonder if he's trying to emulate Aaron.
You flash him a cheeky smile as he walks towards the conference room, but he just brushes past you.
~
Derek steps into his new role effectively, and you even notice him provide extra feedback to everyone throughout the case. Hotch has a bit of a difficult time stepping down at first, but you know it comes from habit, not distrust.
When you're back at the office later that night, you look up to see that he is still in his office, furiously jotting something down, even though his responsibilities have been greatly diminished. You don't know why you expected the demotion to make him want to cut back a bit.
Derek is the only person still in the bullpen when you take a seat again. You finished up the last of your paperwork, so you start to pack up your stuff, but then your interaction from earlier crosses your mind again.
Latching your bag closed, you stand up and perch on the edge of Derek's desk. "Hey, boss, how's the responsibility feel?"
"Fine," he mutters, his tone snippier than you've ever heard it.
"A lot more paperwork than you were expecting, huh?"
He doesn't look at you, so you reach forward to tap the back of his hand. "Derek, come on, what's going on with you?"
You brace for him to snap at you again, but then he just sighs, setting his pen down. "You're not angry with me, right?"
"What?" You don't know where this is coming from, seeing as how he's been the one who's been avoiding you all day. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"Why?" he repeats, his face twisted with disbelief. "I basically stole this position out from under you."
You shake your head forcefully, putting your hand over his on the desk. "Not even close, hon. Anything on my end was bureau politics, but that's just one side of it. You deserve this just as much as I would have. You've even been at the BAU longer than I have."
He's silent for a moment, before he turns his hand under yours and clasps it gently. You give his hand a squeeze before bringing your other one up to his cheek. "You're doing a great job. You were an amazing leader out there today. Hotch picked you well."
Derek leans into your hand for a beat, before letting out another sigh. "Thanks."
"Seriously, Derek," you say with a smile. "This might have been one of his best professional decisions yet."
That makes him laugh, before shaking his head. "Nah, his best decision was bringing you to this team."
Your chest fills with warmth and you lean forward to pull him into a hug. His arms are strong as they wrap around you, and you settle into the hug, turning away from the office light upstairs and trying to ignore the fact that Aaron hasn't looked up from his desk since you started talking.
***
"Agent Hotchner, before you go, there's one final thing I'd like to share with you."
Karl Arnold, the Fox, has been taunting each of you throughout the whole day, and right when you finally thought you were done, he drew you right back in. You follow Hotch and Prentiss back into the interrogation room.
"So you think you found my admirer."
"No," Aaron says simply. "We found the killer."
Arnold grins. "With my help, of course."
"Your admirer is exactly like everyone who contacts you..." Emily sneers, "lost."
Arnold turns to her, and the look in his eyes makes your skin crawl. "My love, your guy is far from lost."
Hotch shakes his head, turning to the door. "We're done."
"So is he." All three of you spin back around, much to his amusement. "'Look at what I have done.' It's quite brilliant, you know?"
"We will find whoever sent you that."
"No, Agent Hotchner, I rather think he's already found you."
Aaron immediately starts flipping through the file on the table, shoving pictures and papers aside as he searches for something. Something about Arnold's tone sends your mind reeling and you grab the journal in front of you and start flipping through it as well.
"What's going on?" Emily asks, coming up behind you.
Arnold just laughs. "He's torturing him."
"Who?"
He ignores her. "It's great to see you squirm, Agent Hotchner."
You reach one of the bookmarked pages, and the symbol that greets you almost makes you drop the journal. "Aaron..."
His eyes snap to your hands as his skin turns white. "Foyet."
The three of you rush out of the interrogation room, accompanied by the disturbing sound of Arnold's laughter echoing behind you.
Just before the door shuts behind you, you hear his final words. "He knew you'd come."
***
The whole team spends days with only one goal in mind: find and capture Foyet. JJ works with you and Garcia to track prescription medications that he would be on given his self-inflicted injuries, and Spencer, Emily, and Aaron put together a geographic profile using the letters from the Fox and the proximity of nearby pharmacies. Derek's role as acting unit chief keeps him busy all on its own, but he manages to keep the team on track as he turns any new cases that come in to other teams.
When JJ returns from a local pharmacy with the discovery that many prescription meds have over-the-counter alternatives, the focus shifts. Garcia narrows down the list, and brings back a list of names that is way too long to feasibly question.
"153 names," you huff, leaning over her shoulder as she scrolls down the list.
Emily frowns. "Well, he's not gonna use his own name."
"What kind of aliases should we be looking for?"
You all consider this, before Derek chimes in. "He could have easily stolen someone's identity."
Hotch shuts that idea down immediately. "No, he's a narcissist in love with his own mythology. He'd use a name connected with the case."
"A victim, maybe," you guess, "or a cop?"
Garcia doesn't find anything on the initial search, but thankfully Spencer suggests another approach. "Guys, Foyet likes things to have meaning to him. The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led us back to him. Maybe he's doing the same thing with the alias."
Emily frowns. "Like an anagram or something?"
Spencer walks over to the white board and writes out George Foyet, before fiddling around with the spellings of possible anagrams. You walk up behind him and follow his movements along the board. "You see something, Spence?"
He shakes his head. "Not yet."
"Spencer," you interrupt as the realization comes to you, "he named himself The Reaper."
He pauses for a beat, before switching over to scrawling out possible anagrams for The Reaper instead. After a moment, he's done. "Peter Rhea."
Penelope is already searching. "There's a Peter Rhea in Arlington."
Rossi nods, a satisfied look on his face. "We found him."
***
Garcia sends out the address of an apartment in his name, and you drive over with Hotch, who doesn't say a word the whole way over. You keep glancing at him, trying to be discreet, but the tension in his posture doesn't fade, even after the breakthrough.
The apartment ends up being empty, but when you all go inside, there's a laptop sitting on the center table. Emily dials Garcia the moment you realize that the files on it are being remotely deleted, and when she hacks in, she comes across a series of surveillance photos that make you gasp out loud. "Oh my god, isn't that-"
"That's the US Marshall protecting my family." His face looks frozen with stress as he dials Marshall Kassmeyer's number. When the call goes to voicemail, Aaron stalks out of the apartment and to the SUVs parked out front. He doesn't wait for you to get in, before he's already driving off.
"Where is he going?" Emily calls out as she exits the building behind you.
"Kassmeyer's house," you say, almost certain that you're correct. With the knowledge that his family is most likely in immediate danger, there is nothing anyone could do to stop him from trying to save them. "I'm gonna follow him."
"Here," Rossi says, tossing his car keys to you. You accept them gratefully and speed off down the road.
~
Kassmeyer is bleeding out when you get to his house. Aaron is already inside, trying to get him to explain what happened, and when he describes how Foyet taunted him and stabbed him, you resist the urge to take Aaron's hand.
"Sam," he says suddenly, leaning over him. "I need to understand. Does he know where Jack and Haley are?"
Your heart rate skyrockets as Kassmeyer mumbles another apology. If Foyet knows where they are, you don't know if any of you will be able to get there in time.
The paramedics rush in then, and they carry Sam out to the awaiting ambulance as he refuses sedation. Aaron runs out after them and throws himself into the back of the ambulance before you can catch up.
~
Without any new leads, there's nowhere for you to go, so you wait out front in your SUV as you wrack your brain for where Foyet would have told Haley and Jack to go. You don't know how long it takes until another agent calls you from the hospital with the news that Marshall Kassmeyer died in surgery.
The news hits you like a ton of bricks. One more body you can attribute to The Reaper. "Is Agent Hotchner there?"
The voice is tinny over the line. "He took one of the SUVs and left a few minutes ago."
"Where?" You can hear how frantic your voice sounds, but you don't care. "Where did he go?"
"I'm not sure," the agent says. "He sped away before anyone could ask."
You hang up the phone and turn the car on, before pulling onto the street and calling the team line. Garcia picks up on the first ring.
"Sam died in surgery," you explain as you turn at the end of the street. "Hotch is already gone, but I'm gonna go to the hospital now in case someone has more info."
"Okay, honey," she says, patching in the rest of the team. When they answer, she repeats your statement, before she gets cut off. "Guys, Hotch is calling Foyet."
"Patch us in," Derek instructs over the line, before going silent. You mute yourself as well, before turning back to the road.
"Agent Hotchner."
Foyet's voice makes you nauseous, and you can practically hear the grin behind his words.
"If you touch her..." Aaron doesn't even finish the threat, but you can feel the rage within it.
"Be gentle, like I was with you?"
Your eyes prick with tears as you remember the scars that are now a permanent fixture on his body. The matching scars. The idea of Haley ending up the same way, or Jack-
"What the hell took you so long?" Foyet complains, his tone playful. "I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."
Aaron doesn't answer him, and the anger is almost palpable over the line.
"Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."
"I'm not frustrated," he finally responds. "You're more predictable than you think."
"Am I?"
He starts to recount the tale of Foyet's life, weaving in details that you didn't know from his childhood and the pain he was causing before he was even old enough to drive. You suppose this was what all of those late nights at the office were for. You hope they were worth it.
"That's the thing, George," he continues, his voice suddenly softer. It's like he's pleading with him. "This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. Haven't you gotten what you wanted?"
There's silence for a few moments, and you can hear your heartbeat in your skull. Eventually Foyet comes back. "You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair."
Your heart falls into your stomach. He has her. He already has her.
"She's lost some weight. Must be all the stress you caused her."
Just when you think that might be the worst of it, he continues. "Where's the little man? Oh. There he is. Does he like Captain America because of you?"
He has them both. You can barely see the road through the anger and fear that is coursing through your veins. Another phone rings and Foyet answers it, leaving his line with Hotch on as well. "Mrs. Hotchner. I'm here. Open the gate and I'll drive in."
You can't hear her reply, before Foyet returns to the call you're listening to. "Aaron? I really gotta go."
The call disconnects, and you can't breathe. Open the gate. The gate. What gate?
Think, think, goddamnit think.
The answer hits you like a truck. "His house. They're at his old house."
Emily whispers something that sounds like "shit" and you swerve across the lanes to make a u-turn. "I'm heading there now."
Assuming Aaron was already heading back after leaving the hospital, he would reach the house before any of you. You can only hope he'll be there in time.
Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you're gripping the steering wheel, and when Garcia patches you all in for another call from Foyet, the tears are already flowing down your cheeks.
"Aaron?"
It's Haley's voice. You gasp out loud from the relief that she's still alive.
"You're okay?" She sounds so scared, but at least she's alive. That's all you can focus on right now.
Aaron answers with a defeated sigh. "I'm fine."
"But...he said that..." The realization hits her, and she lets out a small sob. "Oh, Aaron."
"He can hear us, right?"
"Yes."
His voice is softer then, wet with tears. "I am so sorry. Haley, show him no weakness, no fear."
"I know." Of course she does. She was married to a profiler for years. She knows what all of this means, but she doesn't deserve any of it. "Sam told me all about him. Is he, uh..."
"No," he says gently. "Sam is fine."
Foyet's voice is like the hiss of a snake as it joins the call. "Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. Is that why your marriage broke up, because you're a liar?" His voice is too close to the phone. You want to scream for him to get away from her, but you're not supposed to be listening, and your car isn't moving fast enough.
"He's trying to scare you, Haley." His voice is trembling, and you can hear the tightness behind each of his words.
When Foyet mentions the deal, your stomach roils with nausea. You can picture the exact look on Aaron's face as he blames himself for this entire situation, even though it's happening to him, not because of him.
"Don't react."
Haley's voice is shaking too as she whispers, "What is he talking about?"
"Tell Jack I need him working the case."
"What?" She sounds confused, and that's when you remember the signal he told you about. The words that only Jack knows that are meant to keep him safe from situations exactly like this.
"Tell Jack I need him working the case," he repeats, his voice steadier. But all of it goes away the moment Haley hands her son the phone.
"Hi, Daddy."
"Hi, buddy." His voice cracks and you feel your heart crack with it. The tears are rushing down your cheeks now, and you wipe them out of your eyes with the back of your hand as you get closer to the house. But not close enough.
Aaron tells him to work the case again, and he gives Haley a hug before rushing out of the room.
"He's so cute. He's like a little junior G-Man." Foyet chuckles, before yelling out. "I'll be right up, Jackie boy!"
Aaron ignores him, and you feel his focus return. "Is he gone?"
"Yes." Haley's voice is strong, and you release a single sigh of relief as you press the gas pedal down as hard as you can.
Aaron's voice returns and you can hear the anguish as he speaks. "You're so strong, Haley. You're stronger than I ever was."
"You'll hurry, right?" The fear in her voice breaks your heart, and you want to assure her that you're all doing everything you can, but you're still a few streets away.
"I know you didn't sign on for this."
Neither did you.
She echoes your thoughts. "Neither did you."
His voice breaks into a sob. "I'm sorry for everything."
"Promise me that you will tell him how we met and how you used to make me laugh."
"Haley..."
"He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron." Her words sound so final, and you can't imagine what Foyet is pointing at her right now, but you can only hope that Aaron gets there before it's too late. "I want him to believe in love, because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him." She sounds almost resolute, and your body floods with hope for a split second. "Promise me."
His breathing is ragged as he whispers, "I promise."
Three gunshots ring out and the wheel jerks in your hand as a painful sob wrenches from your throat. No, no, no.
~
You race out of your car the moment you pull to a stop in front of the house. There's only one other SUV outside, and you don't give yourself a moment to think as you rush inside, lifting your gun at the last second.
The front foyer is empty, but then a jagged thumping fills the air and you dart around the corner to find Aaron beating Foyet to a pulp. You can tell from where you're standing that he's already dead, but that doesn't seem to matter to him.
"Aaron!" you yell, hoping to break his reverie. His hands are covered in blood as he pounds the man's face in, and he doesn't look up until you grab him from behind and yank his arms back. "Aaron, he's dead. He's dead."
He stops moving, and for one single second, everything is still. Then his body pitches forward and he breaks down as he sobs, his hands coming up like he's begging for the pain to go away.
You clutch him as tightly as you can, like if you hold him close enough, he won't fall apart. You can hear the voices of your teammates as they enter the house, but then his head lifts and he pulls himself up, dashing down the hall. You follow after him, rushing past Morgan and Rossi, and you realize where he's going in real time as he runs into his office and kneels down beside his desk.
Please, please, not him. Just not him. He opens the cabinet and you all share a gasp of relief as Jack's little face peeks out, his skin unmarred.
"I worked the case, Daddy. Just like you said."
Aaron reaches in and picks him up, before squeezing him tightly, his little face glancing around the room in confusion.
"You did a great job, buddy." He releases him after a few moments, before handing him off to JJ to go outside and away from the carnage littering the house. You press a kiss to his forehead before she lifts him up and walks out of the room.
Emily looks at you then, concern flashing in her eyes, but you just nod, and she follows JJ, pulling the door closed behind her.
You turn back around just in time to catch Aaron as he collapses to the floor. The weight sends you both to your knees, and he crushes you to him as you hold him as tightly as you can. His sobs mix in with your own, and you try not to let your body shake from the force of your crying, because you need to be strong for him.
He buries his face into your neck, his tears mixing with the blood on his face as it soaks your shirt and vest.
"I'm so sorry," you whisper into his hair. It doesn't feel like enough, but there's nothing else to say. "I'm so sorry."
~
Derek and Emily come back with the paramedics eventually to take him outside to check for injuries, and you're about to follow after them when something catches your eye. A pair of feet invade your periphery as you glance through a doorway down the hall. Oh god.
Your knees buckle and Derek catches you before you stumble forward into her room. You fall to your knees beside her, and you vaguely hear Emily whisper something behind you before there's just silence.
Her eyes are already closed, and if you really wanted to, you could try to pretend that she was just sleeping, but there's too much blood. You reach out to push her short hair back from her forehead, so that you can see her face one last time. One last time.
A sob rips out of you and you take her hand, pressing it to your lips. The scene is suddenly too much, and you close your eyes before letting out a shaky breath. You don't know what your life is going to look like without her presence. What Aaron's life with look like, or Jack's.
You squeeze her hand again before laying it on her stomach, and Emily comes forward then to help you up. Derek holds the door open as she leads you outside, and helps you tear your vest off the moment you hit the fresh afternoon air.
You bend over, hands on your knees, gulping back fresh air and trying not to throw up. Emily pats your back as you take in deep breaths, rubbing comforting circles that help to calm down your heart rate.
When you look up, you spot Aaron sitting on the edge of an ambulance. The medics are cleaning his cuts, and one of them is holding an ice pack to his head, when you walk over to survey the damage.
He doesn't look up when you approach, instead staring at his bloody hands with a look you can't discern. You can't imagine what he must be thinking right now, but if you know him at all, you know that sometimes you don't need to talk.
You reach down and take his hands, holding them in yours with a tight grip that forces him to look at you. Neither of you says anything, but it's okay, because there is nothing left to say. There will be soon, but not right now.
***
"We'll be back in a couple of hours," Jess tells you as she slings her purse over her shoulder.
You nod at her as you pick Jack off the ground and swing him up into your arms. "Take your time. We'll be hanging out here."
Aaron beckons for Jess to walk out in front of him before he dips his chin at you. "Thank you again."
"Of course," you smile, shaking your head. They're going to make the last arrangements for the funeral, and the absolute least you can do is watch Jack while they're away.
"Can we watch cartoons?" Jack asks the moment the front door shuts behind them.
"Soon, baby," you laugh lightly, before placing him on the ground and leading him to the kitchen. "We gotta make lunch first."
You throw together two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bring them to the breakfast table, where Jack is obediently scribbling away at his coloring book. "Here you go, Jack-o-lantern."
He takes a massive bite before you can sit down, but over the next ten minutes, he only manages to finish about half of the sandwich. "I'm done."
"You sure?" you ask, scrunching your face into a playful frown. "I think you got at least a couple more bites in you."
He shakes his head forcefully, before dropping the sandwich onto his plate. You know he doesn't usually eat much, but he hasn't eaten since breakfast hours ago. "Come on, hon, at least another big bite."
"No!" he yells, pushing the plate away from him. Before you can stop him, he jumps off of his chair and races out of the kitchen, towards his bedroom.
You hear the door slam shut behind him, and you heave out a sigh before clearing away both of your plates and wiping down the counter. You don't fault him for anything, you just can't believe he has to go through something like this.
He's so young. Younger than you were when you lost your mom. There's some comfort in the fact that he likely won't remember this pain when he's older, but then comes the nausea. The sickening reminder that one day he'll forget about her. Haley, his mother, your best friend's wife, your friend.
You slowly make your way to his room, knocking on the door twice before calling out his name. When he doesn't answer, you twist the knob and gently open the door. "Jack?"
He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit on the floor in front of him. He's fiddling around with a set of colorful wooden blocks, and he only looks at you once you pick one up yourself. The edges have been worn smooth from being tossed around, and you run your fingers against them as you wait for him to speak.
"Did Mommy want to leave?"
You can practically hear your heart crack in two as the block falls from your hand. Tears spring to your eyes, but you blink them back, not wanting to scare him.
"No, baby, no," you say quickly, reaching forward to rub your thumb over his cheek. "She loved you more than anything in this world."
He still doesn't look convinced, so you rest your palms on his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you. "If it was her choice, she would have never left you."
After a moment, his lips jut out into a pout, but he nods once. "Is Daddy gonna leave too?"
The tears rush forward again. You want to tell him that Aaron would never leave him, that he may be gone most nights until after Jack is asleep, and sometimes even before he's up for breakfast, but he would never leave. But you also know that Haley didn't want to either, but sometimes the job takes more than you're willing to give. "He's not going to leave you. Not if he can help it."
That seems to calm him down for the time being, so you take his hand and lead him back to the living room. Once he's situated on the couch, you switch on his cartoons for him, turning the volume down low.
He settles into the cushion next to you, his arm resting on your thigh as he focuses on the screen in front of him, while your eyes wander down to the small tv stand. They land on a framed photo of Haley and Jess together, smiling at the camera as the sun shines down on their faces, and you lift your hand to your mouth to stifle the tears that rush forward.
When your eyes pan over to the photo of you and her, with Aaron and Jess right behind you, the tears stream down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, trying to be quiet so as not to call away Jack's attention. But the cartoons are too quiet, and when a small sob escapes, Jack looks up, his brow furrowing with a look reminiscent of his father. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay, baby," you nod, forcing a smile onto your face as you look down at him and press a kiss to his temple. "I just loved your mom very much."
***
The ground is still wet from the rain. It squelches beneath your feet as Jess clutches onto your arm, letting you lead her across the cemetery for the service.
You walk behind the pallbearers as they bring Haley to the top of the open grass and set her down carefully with a reverence that brings tears to your eyes again. You don't know if your eyes have been dry at any moment today, but the tears haven't spilled over yet. It's only a matter of time.
Aaron is ahead of everyone, looking down at the small sheet of paper in his hands, with Jack by his side. The young boy looks so small in his suit, and his eyes dart around the procession with a mix of confusion and sadness that pierces your chest.
When Aaron is ready to begin, Jessica lets go and walks up to stand on his other side, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Your arm feels cold where she used to be, but it doesn't last long as another hand takes its place. You turn your head to see Spencer, one hand on his cane, and the other on your arm, as he holds you tightly to his side, his eyes brimming with tears as well. You don't expect that there's a dry eye in the crowd.
Aaron starts his speech with a quote, but the steadiness in his voice starts to waver the moment he says her name. "Haley was my best friend since we were in high school."
You remember how fiercely he loved her, even back then. The tenacity with which he pursued her when he realized that she was someone he wanted to spend his life with.
His voice continues as his eyes dip down. "We certainly had our struggles, but if there's one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son Jack." Your tears surface again, but you suck them back with a deep breath. "Haley's love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn't here today."
Aaron looks up then, and his eyes land on the casket in front of him. "A mother's love is an unrivaled force of nature. And we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life."
His hand flexes at his side, and you wish desperately that you were up there with him, holding his hand like he held yours when your mother died.
"I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her."
His voice breaks and he reaches into his pocket for the scrap of paper he was looking at earlier. "I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school's production of 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I found our copy of the play and was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed appropriate for this moment."
The quote comes back to you as he recites it, and your mind flashes back to those adolescent afternoons when you would watch him make a fool of himself trying to impress Haley at play practice. You can't help yourself as the tears finally fall, and you feel Spencer squeeze your hand tightly, acting as the lifeline you so earnestly need.
When he finishes his speech, everyone comes forward to place white roses on her casket before it is lowered into the ground. You wait as the crowd slowly dissipates, as everyone heads to the repast, and you hold Jess's hand while Aaron picks Jack up, holding him tightly.
"Blow Mommy a kiss," he whispers, before leaning over to let Jack place a rose on the casket.
His brow furrows as he straightens again, and you watch as the familiar stoicism returns to his posture. He isn't pushing all of his emotions down, exactly. He's just tucking them away, so as to be there for his son, who needs a solid figure in his life, now more than ever.
And that's what he'll be.
***
The repast is bustling with people from all eras of Haley's life, and you sit with the team at a large table, staring at your plate of food. When Dave pulls Aaron outside to talk, you watch them leave, noting the stiffness in his shoulders as he's forced to leave Jack with Jess again. She has been nothing but grateful to see her nephew more often than usual, but nonetheless, he wears his guilt like a jagged scar across his face.
Penelope clutches your hand under the table and you give her a weak nod, unable to do more with all of the energy drained from you.
"It was a beautiful service," Emily says, her eyes big and soft as they look at you.
You nod again, before turning back to your full plate. You can't bear the thought of stomaching any food right now.
Then just when you think the day can't get any worse, Derek and JJ's phones chirp with a message at the same time. No. No.
"They can't be calling us in," Emily sighs, her lips thinning, "not tonight."
JJ shakes her head. "I'm on it." She returns from her phone call a minute later with a forlorn look. "There's no other team available."
Derek gets up with a sigh. "I'll get Rossi."
When he returns with Dave, leaving Aaron alone on the deck, you squeeze Penelope's hand before walking outside. The air is cold, and you wrap your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you approach him.
"It's okay," he says before you can open your mouth. "I'll see you when you get back."
Mind reader, you think for a split second.
He has already given you the blessing you assumed you needed when you came out here, but it still doesn't feel right. "I don't want to go."
"It's your job," he shrugs. Like it's that simple. "It's okay."
"Are you sure?" You won't be able to do your job with him here, but even less so if you're feeling guilty the whole time. "I can take time off."
"No," he says quietly, shaking his head. He looks out into the night air, and you take his hand, squeezing it between both of yours. "It'll be good for me to have some time with Jack."
You can understand that. You pull him into a hug, before dipping your chin into a nod and leaving him out there again.
***
His return to work hasn't been easy. When Strauss gave him the option to retire with full pension and benefits, it should have been an easy decision, but something was tugging at his gut, telling him that would be the wrong choice.
Now he's sitting in his office, and all of his recent life choices are swirling around him like a hurricane ready to close in. He misses Jack like he's missing a limb, and he feels terrible for how often he's been relying on Jess to take care of him, even though she readily offered her help.
His emotions are a tumbling mess, and he doesn't notice that his fingers have been tapping the edge of his desk until you enter his office.
"Coffee?" He looks up with a nod, accepting the steaming cup you hand him, before you flop down on the couch across from him. "What are you thinking about?"
He swallows back a scalding gulp that likely scorched his throat on the way down. He wants to push his emotions down and say something quippy that won't distract you for more than a few moments, but tonight he needs reassurance more than he's willing to admit. "Did I come back too early?"
He expects an immediate and bombastic denial, but you just sit there, stirring your black coffee as you tuck your legs under you. "I can't decide that for you."
It's a diplomatic answer, but he needs guidance, and he doesn't have anyone else to go to. Not that he would go to anyone else even if he did. "Do you think I'm jeopardizing the team by being here?"
This time, the answer is immediate. "Of course not. You've been doing your job effectively, and no one can say otherwise."
He pauses for a moment, ruminating over your words. He knows he's not asking the right questions. He's just delaying until he has to accept what he's feeling.
With a shaky breath, he sets his coffee down and looks at you. "Am I jeopardizing my family by being here?"
Your brows pinch. "Jack will be okay. He's young, and he'll miss you, but you're his hero, Aaron. He loves you because you keep him safe."
"But I'm never home." His voice sounds ragged to his own ears, and he's certain you can hear the pain clawing out of his throat. "How am I doing my job as a father if I'm never there?"
"Aaron," you whisper, drawing his eyes back to yours. "You're keeping him safe by catching the bad guys. He knows that. And that's what he needs." You fix him with a look that makes his back straighten. "Okay?"
After a moment, he nods. "Okay."
***
"Hi, Hales."
You sink down onto the bench in front of her headstone, before pulling the baggie of peach rings you brought from your pocket. They were the only candy you liked from your high school's vending machine, and the two of you would share them between classes during your senior year.
"I should've come sooner, but work's been really busy."
You've only visited her once since the funeral six months ago, and you wish you could've come by more, but sometimes being here is just too much. It's too stark of a reminder that she's never coming back.
You pop another peach ring in your mouth, before breaking into a grin. "Jack's growing up so fast. He's so resilient, it's amazing." He has already adjusted to living in his father's apartment full time, and he seems to like hanging out with you or Jess whenever he's stuck at work late. "I wish you could be here to see it all."
You wish for a lot of things these days. The loss seems to keep piling up, and you don't know what to do or how to feel most of the time, but time keeps passing. And with it, so does the grief.
"Aaron's starting to get better too." You don't know what you believe, but a part of you suspects she knows all of this already. "The transition back was hard on all of us, but he doesn't look as defeated all the time anymore." Your lip twitches. "He even smiles at my jokes sometimes."
You swear you hear her laughter over the rustling of the wind, but it's probably just in your head. "Anyway, I just wanted to come see you. Let you know how much we miss you."
You stand up, grabbing the bouquet from next to you, and walk over to the headstone. Without thinking, you reach into your bag of candy and drop a peach ring into the dirt. It feels juvenile, even as you're doing it, but you can't help yourself. She would find it funny. You know she would.
You tuck the rest into your pocket and walk across the grass to another row of stones. It's not a quick stroll, but it gives you enough time to take a few deep breaths before you face him again.
Jeff Adler. The letters jump out at you like flashing lights, and you blink a few times as the magnitude of your loss washes over you. So many lives, so much love and warmth gone from your life.
Bending down, you place the bouquet of carnations in front of his headstone, before kissing your fingertips and pressing them to his name.
***
"You've got to be kidding."
He just shrugs, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips. You make sure to keep your voice down as you toss your cards into the center pile and lean back against the bottom of his couch.
After putting Jack to bed, neither of you could think of anything quiet to do until Aaron pulled out a deck of cards from below the tv stand.
"I hate that you're so good at this," you grumble, watching as he deftly splits the deck and starts shuffling again. This being Go Fish.
"You're good, too," he concedes, flashing you an amused look that you don't share.
"Yeah, but you're better."
"As with most things."
You throw a card at him, but he dodges it easily. When he's finished shuffling, he deals out a card, before pausing. "We can play something else if you don't think you can beat me."
"Just deal the cards."
He lets out a low laugh and deals out another card, just as both of your cellphones chirp at the same time. You share a look before dropping the cards on the table. He stands first and gives you a hand up, which you accept.
"I'll call Jess," you whisper as he strides over to his bedroom to get his go-bag. You dial her quickly, and get the confirmation that she's coming over, before grabbing your own bag and heading out to his car.
***
"Sorry to ruin your night."
Everyone is in casual clothing when you walk into the briefing room with Aaron on your heels. JJ shoots you an apologetic look which quickly turns to surprise when Rossi walks in wearing a full tux.
"What, are you working on, wife number 4?" Derek laughs as he sets his bag down.
Dave just grumbles. "I see you people way too much."
"I hear that," you grin before taking your usual seat between Aaron and Spencer.
"Let's get started." JJ hands out the case files and clicks the screen on. "All right. Anchorage field office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. There's 3 people dead in less than a week."
You scan the file as fast as you can, but Spencer beats you to it. "For a town with a population of 1,476, that's fairly significant."
JJ nods. "It's their first murder investigation on record."
"Who are the victims?" Dave asks, his eyes darting back and forth between the file and the screen.
JJ looks down at her notes. "Uh, Jon Baker, a hunter. Dedaimia Swanson, a schoolteacher. Brenda Bright, the first mate on a fishing boat. There's a new victim every 2 days."
Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing, but Emily gives it a voice. "Any connections?"
"Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone's connected."
When JJ finishes up the briefing, Aaron stands up and grabs his bag. "We'll fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. Garcia, I need you with us."
She shoots him a confused look. "Sir?"
"I've tasked a satellite uplink and it's your job to keep us connected."
"Yes, sir."
"This town's already on the brink," he continues with a sigh, "and if this pattern continues, we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast."
***
After barely getting any sleep on the plane ride over, and a long day in the cold, the team holes up in the lobby of a local inn, warming up around the fire.
"I'm gonna pull an all-nighter," Garcia announces when you stifle a yawn behind your fist. "I'll finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise."
"Good," Aaron nods, sitting up on the couch. "The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning."
At his suggestion, the innkeeper steps out from behind her desk. "I've got four of the upstairs rooms available."
"Uh, 4?" Spencer squeaks, his eyes darting around the room.
"Come on," the sheriff sighs as he stands up, "that's the best we can do. Your team is double the size of my department." He glances at Aaron and they share a nod. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night."
The sheriff walks out of the inn and you lean back on the couch, turning your head to the side to look at Aaron. The question in your eyes is implicit. What's the plan?
"It looks like we'll have to double up," Emily answers for you, her lips stretching into a grin.
Derek speaks up immediately. "I'm not sleeping with Reid."
Penelope reaches over and grabs Derek's arm. "Dibs."
Emily and JJ stand together and head upstairs, and you glance at Aaron with a nod. "Let's find one of the double rooms before Emily snags it."
"Guess it's you and me, kid," Dave says to Spencer as you grab a key from the front desk and pick up your bag. The inn is so small that all of your rooms end up being in the same hallway. You leave the door open behind you as you step inside and toss your bag onto the nearest bed.
Aaron enters after you and locks the door, before wordlessly moving your bag to the other bed, away from the door. It takes you less than a second to realize why. His protective nature was always strong, but over the past year, it has kicked into overdrive, especially around you and Jack.
"Do you want first shower?" you ask as you unzip your bag and pull out a tee shirt and some sleep shorts.
"You take it," he says, shaking his head. The chilliness of the outside air hasn't left your bones, so you don't wait for him to change his mind before grabbing your toiletries and rushing into the bathroom.
While you're in the shower, Aaron takes his time fluffing out the comforter and pillows on his bed. The room itself isn't very spacious, but he doesn't mind sharing with you. The close quarters remind him of his youth when he would sneak into your room late at night to get away from his family. Just the sight of the lights through your bedroom window used to bring him peace. When he glances over at your side of the room, a tranquility washes over him, and he realizes that the feeling hasn't really gone away.
"Your turn," you say a little later when you emerge from the bathroom. Your skin is still slightly damp, and your cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, and he has to tear his eyes away as he nods and steps around you.
The tiny mirror in the bathroom is still steamy when he shuts the door behind him and pulls off his shirt, and he lifts his hand to wipe it off, before pausing. His scars aren't something he likes to think about often, but after saving Jack, they took on a different image in his mind. He felt less like a victim.
He rubs his hand against the mirror to wipe off some of the condensation, and his reflection looks tense as it stares back at him. Back in the room, your presence felt warm and comfortable, but in here, with the steam fogging up the glass, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, something else roils in his gut.
It's a not-so-unfamiliar feeling that used to be commonplace when he was younger. It hadn't reared its head in years, but lately, it's been so much harder to push it down. When he sees how much his son loves you, how much he looks forward to finding you in his apartment when he gets back from a late meeting. It's been...hard.
He turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water wash away the notions tickling the edge of his brain. When he walks back into the room, you are tucked into your bed, the covers up to your chin.
"You look like a burrito," he notes with a small laugh.
You shrug, though it's barely visible from under the comforter. "I find this is the best way to keep out the Arctic chill that seems to have invaded our lodgings."
"Fair enough."
He slides into his own bed and clicks the switch on the wall to turn the lights off. He tries to sleep for a few minutes, but even though he's exhausted, it won't come.
It's dark enough that he can't see his fingers in front of his face, but the uneven sounds of your breathing let him know that you're still awake.
"You should really sleep," he whispers into the darkness.
"You first," you say after a moment, before your voice lowers. "How are you doing? How are you holding up, I mean."
"How are you doing?" he asks, knowing he's being unfair.
You don't let it slide this time. "You're deflecting."
"I know."
There's a pause before he finally concedes. "I think I'm okay. The normalcy is coming back, and Jack is doing a lot better, which helps immensely."
"Me too," you say after a beat.
He wants to let the subject go and try to sleep, but the words are pulling at his throat. "I miss her all the time."
"Me too," you repeat. You huff out a husky laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "God, me too."
There's a tinge of bitterness in your voice that he recognizes in himself, but it's not something he knows if he can explain. He remembers how a small part of you blamed Jeff after his death, but that's nothing like what he's feeling. He blames himself for everything but the act itself, knowing that if he had just gotten there quicker, or taken the deal, or taken the transfer-
His breath catches and he hears you rustle under your covers. He imagines you turning to face him, and as his eyes slowly adjust he sees that he was right.
"Do you remember that time in high school," he says suddenly, not entirely sure where he's going with this, "when I got detention."
"I'm gonna need you to be more specific."
He laughs, in spite of himself, and turns over to face you as well. You're so far away, but he can just barely make out your face from across the room. "When you broke me out."
Your laughter is sudden and it echoes around the small room as the memory hits you. "I do remember that. I told them your grandfather was in the hospital so that they would let you out. God, Mrs. Parker was so upset when she went to get you."
"I think my favorite part of the story was that both of my grandfathers died before I could walk."
You chuckle, your voice softer now. "I know."
His chest warms at the memory of the two of you running out to your car and driving to get a scoop of chocolate at your favorite ice cream shop. Even afterwards, you had driven around town for hours, without a complaint, and he hadn't mentioned the time once. It was so soon after his dad's death, and he hated going home for so many reasons. Sean hated him, and his mother was sad all of the time, and it was like you just knew.
"You were good at reading me," he whispers, almost to himself.
"Were good?" you ask with mock offense.
He snorts. "Fine, are good at reading me."
"That's more like it."
***
You drop your empty glass back on the table, feeling the burn of the liquor as you swallow it down. It's your second drink of the night, and while you usually don't indulge in more than one, you welcome the chance to let loose.
Everyone else seems to be in the same mindset, because JJ, Emily, and Penelope are in various states of drunkenness around the booth, and the men are either nursing a drink or driving.
"Let's dance," JJ shrieks, lifting her head off of Will's shoulder and pushing herself up from the booth.
"Hell yeah," Emily grins, pulling you and Penelope up with her.
JJ tries to corral the guys to join, but they all stay firmly seated. Dave and Will look content as they sip their whiskey, and Spencer doesn't budge, citing his leg hurting (a lie). After a bit of targeted shoving, Derek chuckles and gets up for one dance, following Penelope and JJ onto the dance floor.
"Aaaaaron," you slur, tugging his arm. He doesn't move even an inch, but the corner of his lip twitches when you don't give up.
"You used to dance in college," you point out with a frown.
Emily hoots as she saunters over to the floor. "This I need to see."
Aaron just shakes his head with a smile, and you eventually oblige, joining the ladies (and Derek) for a few dances. The dark atmosphere of the club has you feeling looser than you have in a long time, and after the next song, you join Dave over at the bar to get another drink.
You down half of it before you leave the counter, and by this point, JJ has coaxed Will out of his seat, while Spencer rushes off to find the bathroom. The tiredness hits you as soon as you finish the drink, and when you spot Aaron by himself at the booth, you glide back to keep him company.
He doesn't notice you at first as you walk over to him, and you can't help but register that he looks good in his undone button-down. You take another step forward and a thin glint of metal around his neck becomes visible. A jolt of heat shoots down your body and you set your glass down on a nearby table without looking as you approach him.
When you reach the edge of the bench, someone walking by bumps into you and you stumble forward. Aaron grabs onto you as you fall forward, and you end up crushed in his arms, your face just inches from his. Your thoughts cut out and you don't make a sound, your breaths coming out in quick spurts.
Neither one of you moves as you look at each other, so so close, so much closer than you've ever been, than you've ever gotten to be. The faintest impression of a thought - the thought - crosses the deepest edges of your mind as you lean in infinitesimally. He doesn't notice, and you barely register it either, but you can't help but notice how easy it would be to just close the gap and kiss him.
Kiss him?
Your brain short-circuits and you just barely manage to keep your eyes from widening. You have no idea where that came from, but then again, if you are honest with yourself, it has always been there, buried deep down beneath years of friendship and history.
The question invades your brain again, and this time, you're unable to stop it. What would it be like to kiss him?
You can't keep your breath from catching, and he pulls back immediately, tugging you to the side and depositing you on the booth beside him.
Your mouth falls open as you try to meet his eye. "Aaron-"
His head turns and he stands up, his eyes dark under the soft lighting. "I'm sorry."
Before you can get another word out, he's gone.
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#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#hotch x reader#hotch x female!reader#aaron hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#penelope garcia#spencer reid#derek morgan#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#david rossi#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner series#criminal minds series#criminal minds season five#hotch fic#criminal minds fanfiction#anchor series#anchor
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for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?
sand by dove cameron
and
make you mine by madison beer
conversations with strangers.
pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi
I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand
Sand - Dove Cameron
"Why did you call me?"
"Why did you come?"
There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.
"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.
"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."
You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.
On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.
It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.
"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."
You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"
His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?
He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.
Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.
You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.
Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.
"Well?" you press. "You're home."
He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.
"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.
"Are you serious?"
He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.
"You're a grown man."
"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.
In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.
At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.
"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."
"Come in."
"Why?"
"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.
What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?
And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.
Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.
"What am I doing here?" you ask.
"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.
You blink at him. He only stares back.
"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"
Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.
Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."
"Give me a second. Have a seat."
You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.
"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.
The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.
But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.
You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.
You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.
But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.
"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"
"What do you want me to tell you?"
He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."
You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.
You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.
"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."
Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.
"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"
"What is this, 21 questions?"
You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."
When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.
His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."
"See what?"
"See if something is still there."
It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.
"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.
"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."
"Does it matter? If I say there is?"
"Of course it does."
"What would you do about it?"
He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.
You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.
An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.
"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.
"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."
It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.
"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."
"Jealous of what?"
"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."
Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"
"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."
"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."
You still remember him well enough to know that it is.
And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.
You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.
"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.
"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."
It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.
Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.
"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."
It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.
Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.
"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."
This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.
"What happens when it ends again?"
You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."
"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"
He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.
"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."
Not all is said, but everything is already done.
You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.
Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.
When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.
Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?
Why did you come? Why did you stay?
Is anything still there?
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.06.2024]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids angst#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#seungmin angst#seungmin fic#seungmin scenarios#seungmin x reader#seungmin imagines#seungmin x you#stray kids#kim seungmin#seungmin#skz
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Yandere Will Graham
Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Brief mention of rape/rapist, Dubious consent (mention of sex while under the influence), etc.
Notes: I am trying to be active again (fingers crossed). Headcannons are a really easy way for me to get the creative juices flowing. Don't be surprised if a few more come out after this one lol.
You were a recent survivor of an attack
No, it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper
It was just some other wannabe serial killer trying to get his rocks off
He had a dumb, stereotypical name too
The midnight slasher? midnight butcher?
Something like that
The media wasn't very creative with it
Whatever his name was, he'd clearly had a type
Young men
All of a similar stature
With the same hair and eye color
All known to known be up at all hours of the day
It was a pretty open and shut case in Will's eyes
He was a plain and simple lust killer
Most likely white and in his 30s-40s
Classic closet case turned homicidal
He hadn't seen why the FBI was so stumped on the whole thing
The only real trouble was the lack of DNA evidence
He'd been real good at cleaning up after himself
Will knew he'd slip up eventually
This wasn't the type of guy to be so well organized for long
Well--
Does being murdered by your most recent victim count as a slip up?
Because that's exactly what happened
He was called to the scene with the rest of the team
The sight of you trembling, covered in blood, and standing over top of that creep was his first impression
You met his eyes and he was unable to pull away
Something about your tear blotched face held him captive
Jack tasked him with asking you questions about the events at hand
Normally this would have annoyed Will
He wasn't the talking type
Let alone someone sensitive enough to make such a traumatized person feel comfortable
But something in him didn't mind so much
Maybe it was the way you looked so vulnerable
Or the fact that no matter how much he pushed the idea away, he saw himself in you
An innocent man turned murderer under the right circumstances
"I'm Will Graham and I'll be asking you some questions."
"God, okay. I'm Y/n. Can't really say it's nice to meet you."
Will tried to start off slow
Ask the basics before moving onto the more pertinent information
You'd answer to the best of your abilities (considering the circumstances)
It took Will a second to jot down your responses
He'd get a little too caught up in your features to notice you'd stop talking
"Sorry, what was that? You got off work at 9?"
There was something admirable about your attempts to infuse your story with a bit of dry humor
Likely a coping mechanism
But Will found himself smiling a bit at your quips
By the time he'd finish up with you he'd felt a little attachment form
Sure the case was over on his end
But it didn't stop him from asking Jack about you
At least a couple times a week
"How's things going with that self defense case? Y/n's...?"
Will showed up the next day with your case fill on his desk
The sticky note stuck to it warned about annoying Jack with too many questions
He'd spend all night re-reading the details
Without noticing he began slipping in and out of re-enactment mode
Imagining you on top of him
Knife in hand
Crazed look in your eyes
He tried to shake the image away
He shouldn't be doing this
It wasn't right
You could've died that night
His guilt ridden thoughts did nothing to lessen the tent that had formed in his pajama pants
He tried to push the idea of you out of his head
Usually he'd have more control over himself than this
His resolve was strong at first
He'd hidden the manila folder away in the depths of his lower drawer
Telling himself he'd drop it
That worked for a couple of days
That was before he started dreaming of you
Events that he hadn't preformed himself took ahold of him
He became your attacker that night
He chased you
He ripped apart your clothes
He was the one who you fought off
He's the one who you thrust that knife into
And he loved every second of it
Wait--
No, he couldn't
This was just his empathy disorder
Yeah!
He was just in character
This definitely wasn't him
He would never want to do any of that stuff
And he'd prove it
He had memorized that file from front to back at this point
It wouldn't be weird that he'd known your address
He was an FBI consultant
It was basically warranted
Will found himself picking out his best clothes that night
His newest jeans, tailored shirt, the works
Not for any particular reason
And his bed was definitely not littered with rejected articles of clothing
This was just going to be a simple checkup, it's not like it really mattered what he looked like
He showed up on your doorstep with the nicest bottle of wine he could find
"Will? Is that you?"
"Uh, yeah it is. Would I be able to come in?"
You welcomed him in, albeit a little confused
"I thought my case was cleared..."
"That's not what I'm here for. I just wanted to check in on you."
You smiled at this
And Will felt his heart ache
You'd invite him to join in on your sorry excuse for a dinner
He'd never accepted anything so fast before in his life
It didn't take long before the two of you got into the wine he'd brought
It was innocent enough at first
Just drinking and talking
You'd mention how life was after the attack
Will shared a little about his experience with GJH
Its the first time he had ever felt so utterly connected with another person before
But then the two of you got a little more than tipsy
And Will found himself leaning in
One kiss turned into another and another
Will felt a sense of static overtake him
Every touch between the two of you sent shivers up his spine
He felt the strong urge to consume
Before either of you knew it your clothes were now in a heap on the kitchen floor
You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache
Oh-- and an FBI agent in your bed
Shock was an understatement
That was when the memories of the previous night flooded back
Will woke up at the loss of warmth
Last night was the best he had slept in years
You wrapped tight in his arms, bodies perfectly intertwined
His heart sank at the look of regret on your face
"We definitely shouldn't have done that. I think you should leave Will..."
He couldn't just leave now
Not knowing what he did
That you two were made for one another
He'd try to calm you down
"Y/n let's talk about this."
You weren't having it
Mentioning how inappropriate this all was
You'd shove his clothes into his arms
Will tried to console you
Not realizing why you were so worked up
You both did just have the best night of your life after all
You'd back away but he'd continue approaching
"C'mon I know you don't really want me to go. Let's just take a second before we make any rash decisions"
"We aren't doing anything. I want you to go. Now."
Something about him coming over while you were still recovering from your distress and it all leading to this...
It just didn't feel right
Will tried to approach once more but you pushed him away
He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face
"Push me. Go on, make it hurt."
You were absolutely bewildered
He reached out and grabbed ahold of you
His grip was almost crushing
Like he was holding on for dear life
"I won't leave you alone that easily. Fate brought us together for a reason. You feel it too right? We're one in the same. We're each other's destiny."
He looked crazed, sweat slipping from his brow
It felt just like that night all over again
The knife in your hand as your attacker bled out
Only now Will took his place underneath you
#he/him#male reader#will graham x male reader#will graham x reader#yandere will graham#yandere will#possessive love#NBC hannibal#hannibal#yandere hannibal#yandere NBC hannibal#will#will graham#yandere william graham#william graham
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Oh hello me again 👀
I had another idea lmao, this one's a little dumber but here me out 🙏
Joshdub x Reader teasing each other over accents/comparing accents (literally any accent I don't mind, I just need Josh content, literally my second favorite of The Boys and second favorite Australian lol)
STOP I LOVE THIS AWERHJRNWNRBSNSN ; thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy ; your reqs r literally the best lol ; also I'll have that foolish one you sent me up soon I just need to tweak some stuff
JOSHDUB ; accents
summary ; you and Josh like to bully each other over your accents
warnings ; language, excessive DubDaddy running gag/joke idfk
word count ; 646
masterlist
"Bro, shut the fuck up, no way you're trying to diss me with your biscuits and tea looking self"
"Says you, scorpion fucker!"
"What the hell is happening right now?" Mully questions with a slight laugh, looking over to Juicy, Eddie, Gabby, and Narrator.
Juicy answers his question, "They're fighting over their accents"
The four watch as you and Josh continue roasting and arguing with each other, throwing insults every which way.
You were all staying at Juicy's house for a large sleepover-party, currently located in the living room. Prior to the playful argument, you'd all been watching a dumb action movie, which got paused because you all agreed that it was too boring and wanted to talk instead. The girls, minus Gabby, had left to go pick up some pizza and wings, considering none of you had eaten dinner yet, and it was already seven in the evening.
Gabby laughs, hearing another cruel insult escape your mouth. "When are the girls getting back with the pizza?"
Narrator looks down at his watch, "Hopefully within the next 15 minutes before they strangle each other"
"You're a cock sucker. You literally speak in gibberish"
"Says you! A few sandwiches short of a picnic. What's that even mean?"
"Okay, and I'm supposed to know what chuck a sickie and fire up the barbie mean? Quiet yourself down, Josh"
Juicy snickers, a hand loosely covering his mouth as he looks away momentarily. Eddie laughs, cheering you on in his native language across the room, Gabby under his arm. Mully can't help but laugh with Narrator beside him, both of them unable to hold back their amusement. It wasn't necessarily what you were speaking was funny, it was the tone and why you were fighting that got them.
"This is the stupidest thing we've ever argued over" Josh chuckles, "That includes that time where you tried to gaslight me into thinking you didn't call me DubDaddy"
"Again, that wasn't gaslighting! I didn't call you DubDaddy!"
"Why do you say daddy like that?" He laughs, "You accentuate the a like an au sound"
"It's just how I speak! Say tuna"
"Tuna" He speaks, pronouncing it like ch-una.
"See?!" You exclaim, "You're the one talking weird"
"You say tuna like t-ew-nah!" He counterclaims
"Yeah, okay" You playfully roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back into the couch. You look over at Juicy, then Eddie and Gabby, then Mully and Narrator. "I don't say it like that, right?"
They're silent, failing to hide the smiles tugging at the corners of their lips.
"You're fucking kidding me!"
"To be fair!-" Juicy quickly speaks, "You both sound dumb. Mully does too."
"Ha!" You laugh, looking at Josh with a smug smile.
"What the hell?" Mully questions, looking to Juicy, "When was I involved in them?"
Juicy shrugs, "Since you decided to be Australian, brother"
"Dawg, you can't choose to be a certain nationality," Eddie laughs, using his free hand to rub the T-section between his eyes and over his nose.
"Are we not going to talk about the DubDaddy thing?" Mully asks, refocusing the conversation. "I don't remember this happening"
"Shut the fuck up" You quickly reply, moving your legs around to sit criss-cross on the couch.
"No, no, no. Tell us about that" Juicy giggles.
Josh quickly explains before you can tell your side of the story. "We were on VR Minecraft, after that 24 hour challenge-"
"I didn't call you DubDaddy!"
"-And we were trying to at least get to the Nether, right? They fell into a pit of lava, logged out while screaming DubDaddy into their mic, wanting me to help them or get water to save them from the lava pit they were in" Josh chuckles, seeing your annoyed expression.
"I did not call him that, I swear on my life"
"I don't think anyone's believing you, Y/n"
#lowkeyrobin#content creator x reader#joshdub x reader#joshdub#dubdaddy#gender neutral reader#gn reader#gn! reader#they/them reader#british!reader
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ my love mine all mine. ( dick grayson ) !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖✎ᝰ synopsis — " nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love, mine, all mine, all mine. " blk reader.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚warnings — possibly ooc dick ( i never write characters how they actually are lol ),angst, possibly hurt/no comfort ( ? ), unrequited love ( sorry y'all), she's a doozy y'all, dramatic x 100000.
✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ tia speaks — i need to stop listening to mitski while i brainstorm new fic idea because i just keep writing song fics. but alas, here we are. i literally love this album and i lowkey might make a masterlist for my song fics because i write sooo many of them. i hope y'all like this because i am proclaiming song fics to be my brand. i also suggest listening to the song as you read the latter half of this. dedicated to @pinkhoodi cuz this OUR man.
"you'll be there, right?"
"are you kidding me? i wouldn't miss it for the world."
"where's dick?" your mother asked as you took a seat next to her at the dinner table. she was expecting the young man's presence, having gone as far to prepare one of his favorite side dishes and a little extra to take home. "i thought you said he was coming tonight?"
"more excited to see him than me, hm?" you joked, attempting to avoid your mother's question. she gave you a deadpanned stare, causing you to sigh dramatically before answering. "he told me that he couldn't make it a few hours ago, i just forgot to tell you."
"oh, honey..." your mom started, but you shook your head and offered her a reassuring smile.
"ma, it's not a big deal. i told him we could just celebrate another time," you lied, resting a hand on her shoulder as she gave you a sympathetic smile. your eldest brother sat across from you, having noticed dick's absence, but chose not to mention it. having heard the topic of conversation, he grabs your attention to congratulate you.
you were a small fashion designer, often dealing with making pieces for special events for the small city of bludhaven. you work out of a small shop that you rent with some of the money from your designs as well with the income from being a art teacher for the local elementary school. you took a leap of faith and sent a few of your designs to a big name corporations and they loved them, immediately offering you a position. this was your dream and everyone was excited for you.
and now, you're at the celebratory dinner your parents planned in your honor. the same dinner that dick was supposed to be at, pouring you a glass of merlot. he hadn't said a word. he hasn't answered your calls nor your texts. you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, trying to convince yourself that this was just a misunderstanding on his part, but you couldn't help but care about his absence.
but this was your night. so, you sucked it up and smiled for the pictures with your friends and family. you laughed at the jokes. you even gave a big teary speech with the power of brandy.
"did you drive tonight?" your second eldest brother asked, watching as you swayed a bit before turning to look at him.
"no. i figured i'd have a ride home given that this was my celebration and i knew i'd drink, but..." you shrugged. "i'll probably just get a taxi."
"get in," he opens the passenger door, gesturing for you to get it. "i'll give you a ride."
you stared at him for a few seconds before giving him a drunken smile. "awww big brother, you're too kind."
"yeah, yeah. just remember me when you're rich and famous with your own fashion line, okay?" he said as you got into the passenger seat, drunkenly settling in the seat before turning to him and giving him a cheery smile and a thumbs up. he huffed a laugh before closing his car door.
he rounds the car, gets in, and begins to drive. he glances over at you before sighing at the melancholic gaze in your eyes.
"so," he started, his tone gentle. you perked up at the sound of his voice, turning your head to look at him. "dick didn't show."
"yeah," you sighed out, turning away to look out the window. "he didn't come."
"why?" he asked the pressing question that you were sure many others wanted to ask at the dinner as they noticed the empty chair to your left.
"he just... didn't come."
"you two fighting or something? because i can't seem to think of another reason as to why he wouldn't—" your brother started but you cut him off.
"i don't really wanna talk about it," you rubbed eyes, effectively messing up your makeup for the night. you didn't want to talk about how your best friend wasn't there to celebrate your greatest achievement to date. that was a tomorrow ( read: next week ) problem. "he didn't come. that's it."
there was a pause before he sighed. "okay."
"okay," you repeated, slouching back in your seat before smiling to yourself. "drop me off at the bar by my apartment? i could use one more drink."
"i think you've had enough to drink for one night," he responded as the parking garage of your apartment building came in the view.
as he pulled toward the gate of the garage, you looked out the window, noticing a familiar figure sitting on the hood of a car in front of your apartment building. you let another tired sigh before looking ahead of you.
"yeah, you're probably right."
you woke up to someone pounding on your door, coupled with the pounding headache as a consequence from last night's drinking. you remove yourself from your bed, dragging your feet over to your door as the knocking continued.
"yeah, yeah, i heard you the first time," you groan as you open the door, keeping the chain lock secured as you did so. you rubbed your eyes as you asked "what?"
"y/n," you startled at the sound of his voice, immediately looking up and being met with the guilty gaze of dick grayson with a bouquet in his hand. hurt and anger filled you as you rush to close your door, unsuccessful as he shoved his foot in the crack of the door. "y/n, please. i'm sorry! just-just listen to me for a second."
"go fuck yourself, grayson," you said, leaning your full body weight on the door as you tried to get it to close despite his foot being in the way. "move your foot or i'm gonna fucking break it."
"just let me in so we can talk, y/n. okay? i just wanna talk," he begged as he tried to push the door open and away from his throbbing foot.
"i said, move. your. fucking. foot." you emphasized your words as you threw your body against your door, further crushing his foot. he removed his foot, allowing you to close your door. you leaned against it as the tears welled up in your eyes.
"y/n, please. just let me in. i know i fucked up, just let me in, so we can talk," he spoke through the door. you scoffed aloud, shaking your head at the desperation in his voice. you thought about leaving him there to talk to the door as you wallowed in self pity in your bed, but your hoping heart got in the way of your vengeful mind. you stood up and undid the chain lock before open the door and walking away, allowing him to let himself in.
"why?" was the first thing you said when he closed the door behind him.
"y/n, i know you're upset—" he started, but you shook your head.
"why didn't you come?" you asked again.
"i didn't mean to flake on you like that. okay, you know you mean the world to me. i just got so caught up yesterday, y'know? like with work and barbara, i just lost track of—"
"barbara? you missed the dinner because you were with barbara?" your voice cracked as you stared at him in disbelief.
barbara.
it was always barbara.
it was barbara when he didn't come out with you for your 21st birthday. it was barbara when he missed all 10 of your calls when you found out your apartment was broken into and you just needed a place to crash for the night. it was barbara when you got rejected from your dream fashion academy and dick was the one person you wanted to comfort you and tell you that you were still good enough.
it was barbara when you finally worked up the courage to tell dick that you had been in love with him since you first met and he tells you that he finally got barbara to agree to give him a chance.
and each time, you sucked it up and forgave him, whether he knew he hurt you or not.
"yeah, i had some time to kill before the dinner and she asked me to come see her. and i mean, she's my girlfriend, so of course i went. and then i realized that it had gotten pretty late and by the time i would've gotten to the dinner, it would've been over. i came by last night, waiting for you to come back. i got this big bouquette and a cake from that shop on 2nd—" he rambled, sitting the flowers down on the counter and pacing across the floor as he tried to redeem himself.
"you missed my dinner for barbara? the dinner that my family, who lives 3 hours away, planned to celebrate me achieving the one thing that i've wanted since i could write...for barbara? for a little alone time with your girlfriend? you mean i sat through two hours of my mom coddling me because the one person i wanted to celebrate with, who i wanted to support me, didn't show because you were with barbara?" you interjected, fighting tears and swallowing the lump in your throat. dick stopped his pacing to look at you, a huge sigh leaving his body as he scratched the back of his neck.
the two of you stood in silence as you stared at the nervous man in front of you. dick opened and closed his mouth, searching for something to say as he notice the quivering of your bottom lip and the dewy glaze of your eyes.
"yeah," he broke the silence. "i know i fucked up yesterday, but that's why i'm here now. i wanted to fix my fuck up. y'know, take you out for like breakfast or to the art museum a few towns over with the fashion exhibit i told you about. we can spend the whole day out celebrating."
"well, i don't want to celebrate today. the time to celebrate was yesterday at dinner which you missed so," you shrugged at him, turning around walk into your kitchen area, hoping to contain your emotions for a few more seconds.
"i know this is important to you, okay, and i'm sorry that i missed the dinner yesterday, but i think you're being a little unfair to me, right now. i mean, i know that we're best friends and we always want to be there for each other, but i also have a life of my own. you can't always have me, y/n," he said.
you can't always have me, y/n.
the words rang through your mind as your head fell forward and your shoulders began to shake as the dam broke. your tears fell rapidly as you silently cried, refusing to make a sound to save the little bit of dignity you had left.
maybe you were being unfair. it was just a dinner and he was trying to make it up to you now. he was a busy man and you knew that, so him clearing his schedule for you was a good sign that he was sorry. and beside, he was right. you couldn't have him.
but just a little part of you, a very naive part, hoped that you could one day matter more that barbara when it came to dick.
you sniffled and let out a weak laugh. "you know what, you're right. i can't expect to have you all the time."
"y/n, you know i didn't mean it like that," he tried, approaching you to pull you into a hug as your tears still fell. you pulled away from him as you moved to lean on the sink. you crossed your arms before letting out another watery laugh and looking at the man.
"i think you should go home," you give him your best smile. it was strained and shaky, but it was all you could muster up.
"y/n, what about the museum—" he tried again. you shook your head for the umpteenth time.
"i'm not up for it today. you can make it up to me some other time but i really can't look at your face right now," you walked to your front door and held it open, waiting for him to walk out.
"no. i'm leaving you here to cry because i missed your dinner," he looked at you, frustrated that you suggested that he left you alone in the state that you were in.
"it's not about the dinner, dick," you exasperated. "i just think you should go. i'll give you a call when i'm free, okay?"
"y/n..." he started, not moving from his spot.
"dick, please leave," you finalized, gesturing to the door as you held it open. he began to walk to the door, dropping his head in shame. "take the flowers, too."
"the fl—you love daisies."
"barbara loves daisies. i like lillies. i appreciate the thought, but i think you should take them, too," you told him. he looked at the bouquet on counter before retreiving it and making his way out the door. he was silent as he left out of your apartment. he stopped in front of you for a few seconds, opening and closing his mouth a few time before leaving. you closed the door lightly behind him and slid down the door, resting your back against it as you allowed yourself to cry once more.
nothing is the world belongs to me, but my love, mine, all mine.
nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love, mine, all mine, all mine.
© tiathecreator 2023. all rights reserved.
#☆ — tia the creator!#dc fanfic#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x black reader#dick grayson fanfiction#dc x reader#dc x black reader#dick grayson x black!reader#dceu x reader#dceu x black reader#nightwing x reader#nightwing x black reader#nightwing angst#dick grayson angst#dick grayson x you#nightwing x you#nightwing x y/n#black writblr#black writers#x black reader#x black!reader
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