#I’ll learn to paint too eventually

[kiwriteswords]

could we get hotch flirting with shy reader but hotch is rusty and out of the dating scene for so long so ultimately doesn't come across as fliriting to reader, so he has to eventually be bold about it?

Sweet Beginnings

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This sweetness got away from me!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Female Reader

Word Count: 16.6k

Tags/Warnings: Feminine Reader, Shy Reader, Soft and Romantic Smut, Mainly Fade to Black Smut, Romantic Hotch, Hotch in his Courting Masculine Energy, Non-BAU Reader, Bottle of Wine is Mentioned, Romance!! Fluff!!! Enamored Flirty Hotch!!

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner wasn’t one to indulge in leisurely distractions, but a small coffee shop called Sweet Beginnings—and its gentle, shy owner—quickly became a quiet escape from his chaotic life.

Aaron Hotchner had never been one to take advice on leisure activities—especially not from Penelope Garcia. But the way she raved about a little coffee and pastry shop downtown was difficult to ignore, even for someone as stoic as he was.

“It’s cozy, Hotch. The kind of place where you could breathe for a change,” she’d said with a bright smile. “And their pastries? To die for.”

He wasn’t someone particularly picky when it came to coffee or the sweet tooth he allowed himself to indulge in every now and then, but with Penelope Garcia’s dazzling review of this place, he figured he’d give it a try. 

So, one Friday morning, after dropping Jack off at school, Aaron found himself standing in front of the quaint café. The sign above the door read Sweet Beginnings in elegant, hand-painted script. The soft glow from inside beckoned him in, along with the faint smell of coffee and freshly baked goods.

The bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped inside. The shop was warm, decorated with mismatched chairs and tables that gave it a homey feel. Aaron noted the shelves of books and plants along the walls the hum of soft music in the background. It was quiet but alive, much like the woman behind the counter.

You greeted him with a soft smile, barely meeting his eyes as you handed a cup of coffee to the customer ahead of him. Aaron noticed the delicate way you moved, the way your hands wrapped around the mug to steady it as you passed it over. When it was his turn, you offered him the same gentle smile, your voice barely above a murmur.

“Good morning. What can I get for you?”

Aaron had prepared to order the first thing on the menu, but something about you—your calm demeanor, the way your shyness didn’t feel like a wall but an invitation to be gentle—made him pause.

“What do you recommend?” he asked, his tone softer than usual.

You hesitated for a moment as though surprised he’d asked for your opinion. “Um, the vanilla latte is popular… and the lemon scones are fresh today.”

“Then I’ll have those,” Aaron replied, watching the way your face lit up just slightly, like you were proud of your recommendation but too modest to show it outright.

He didn’t expect to find himself at Sweet Beginnings again so soon, but the following Monday, Aaron walked in and ordered the same thing. Over time, his visits became routine—part of the rhythm of his mornings when he wasn’t rushing to a case.

Aaron learned small things about you through your brief conversations. You’d opened the shop a couple of years ago, pouring your heart into creating a space that felt warm and safe. You loved reading, often leaving books on the counter to mark your place. You had a quick wit, though you always seemed surprised when someone caught onto it. And you were so gentle, in a way that Aaron found himself appreciating more and more.

He’d never thought of himself as someone easily captivated, but there was something about you that lingered with him long after he left the shop. The soft way you said his name when you finally learned it, the way your shyness made you blush when he asked about your favorite book—it all stayed with him.

Aaron Hotchner had always been a man of precision. In the field, his words were measured, deliberate, carefully chosen to achieve the best outcome. Flirting, he realized, was a wholly different matter. It wasn’t long before he found himself trying, though, with you—if it could even be called flirting.

At first, it was subtle—so subtle he wondered if it even registered. The first time, he complimented your coffee.

“You’re making it hard to go anywhere else for coffee,” he said one morning, his tone uncharacteristically light. He stood at the counter, his jacket slung over his arm, his tie slightly loosened from the morning rush.

You blinked at him, clearly startled, and Aaron couldn’t help but notice the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “Oh… thank you. I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, your voice soft.

Aaron thought he saw something flicker in your expression—a glimmer of flattered surprise, maybe—but it was gone in an instant. You handed him his cup, offering him the same gentle smile you gave every customer, and he realized you either hadn’t caught on or didn’t think much of it.

But he wasn’t one to give up easily.

A few days later, Aaron leaned casually against the counter, watching as you expertly filled a tray of pastries to restock the display. His gaze softened as he noticed the delicate precision in your movements, the way your hands handled each scone with care. When you finally turned to him, you offered your usual quiet smile, your voice tinged with curiosity.

“Same order as always?” you asked.

Aaron nodded but added, “Do you have any secrets to these scones, or are you just naturally this talented?”

You tilted your head at him, confused at first. Then your lips curled into a shy, almost bashful smile. “It’s the recipe,” you said, your tone light but modest. “I just follow it.”

He couldn’t help the faint chuckle that escaped him. “Somehow, I don’t believe that. There’s a level of care here you don’t find in most places.”

Again, your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, as if unsure how to respond. Aaron took his coffee with a quiet thanks and left, wondering if he’d ever get more than your polite deflections.

One morning, as you handed him his cup, Aaron noticed something different. Written on the sleeve was a simple, hand-drawn smiley face alongside the words, Have a great day! It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tug at something deep in his chest.

He looked up, catching your eyes. “A smiley face?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His lips quirked into a subtle smile.

You froze for a moment, caught off guard. “Oh, um… I’ve been doing little notes for regulars,” you said quickly, your words slightly rushed. “I thought it might brighten someone’s day.”

“It does,” Aaron said warmly. “Thank you.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip in a way that made his chest tighten. He thought he saw your shoulders relax slightly, but you quickly busied yourself with the next customer, leaving him to wonder if he was imagining things.

Over time, Aaron became bolder—or at least, as bold as he could manage within the confines of a café conversation. He tried humor one day, when you handed him a blueberry muffin instead of his usual lemon scone.

“A deviation from the usual?” he asked, lifting the bag and raising an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”

Your lips parted slightly, and for a moment, you looked panicked. “Oh! I’m sorry, I—”

“I’m joking,” Aaron said quickly, his voice warm. “I trust your judgment.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but genuine. “I just thought you might like to try something different,” you admitted, your fingers brushing nervously against the counter.

He smiled, noticing how your shyness made you fidget. “Then I’m sure I will,” he replied. “Thank you.”

The more he tried, the more he realized you weren’t picking up on his intentions. Or maybe you were, and you didn’t believe them. Either way, Aaron found himself at an impasse. 

It was a rare moment of stillness in the bullpen, the team gathering themselves after wrapping up a grueling case. Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, papers in front of him, though his focus had shifted to the cup of coffee in his hand. The familiar, comforting aroma wafted up as he took a sip.

“Alright, Aaron,” Rossi’s voice cut through the quiet, drawing Aaron’s gaze upward. The older man leaned casually against the doorframe to his office, arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve been walking in here every morning with that same cup. It’s not just coffee, is it?”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, come on,” Rossi chuckled, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “You’re not the type to spend almost ten bucks on a latte every day just for the caffeine. You’re going to that little shop downtown, aren’t you? Sweet Beginnings, or whatever it’s called?”

Aaron leaned back slightly in his chair, crossing his arms. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’ve never been a hipster coffee shop kind of guy,” Rossi said matter-of-factly, gesturing toward the cup. “So unless they’re serving something laced with gold, I’m guessing it’s not about the coffee. Am I right?”

Hotch let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. “You have too much time on your hands.”

Rossi grinned, pulling up a chair. “You’re deflecting. So, who is she?”

“Who says it’s about anyone?” Aaron countered, though his slight shift in posture betrayed him.

“Because I know you,” Rossi said, leaning forward. “And I know that look. You’ve got someone on your mind, and I’d bet a week’s salary it’s not the barista’s latte art skills.”

Aaron let the silence linger for a moment before finally relenting. “She’s the owner,” he admitted, his voice low. “She’s... shy, gentle. There’s something about her I can’t quite put into words.”

Rossi nodded knowingly. “Ah, and let me guess—you’ve been trying to make a move, but she’s not picking up on it?”

Aaron hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve tried to show interest. Compliments, humor, the usual... but either she doesn’t notice, or she’s just not interested.”

“Well, have you considered that she might just be too shy to believe you’re serious?” Rossi asked, leaning back in his chair. “If she’s as gentle as you say, she probably doesn’t think a guy like you would be interested in her.”

Aaron frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Hotch. You’re smart, successful, and intimidating as hell when you want to be. A lot of women would think twice before assuming you’re flirting, especially someone shy,” Rossi explained with a knowing look. “You might need to be a little more... direct.”

Aaron arched an eyebrow. “Direct?”

“Yeah,” Rossi said, leaning forward. “Tell her how you feel. No games, no subtle hints. Women like her appreciate honesty. She’s probably too busy overthinking to pick up on your breadcrumbs.”

Aaron considered this, his gaze dropping to the cup in his hand. He’d been dancing around the idea for weeks now, unsure if it was the right move. But Rossi’s words carried weight—as they always did.

“And what if she’s not interested?” Aaron asked after a moment.

“Then you’ll know,” Rossi said simply. “But from the way you’re talking about her, I’d say it’s worth finding out.”

Hotch nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Dave.”

Rossi stood, patting him on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “Just don’t wait too long. Life’s short, my friend. And good coffee? Even shorter.”

Aaron Hotchner stood outside Sweet Beginnings, the cool morning air brushing against his face as he gathered his thoughts. The warm light spilling out of the café windows contrasted with the nervous energy he felt—a rare sensation for someone so used to control. Rossi’s words echoed in his mind: “Tell her how you feel. No games, no subtle hints.”

He stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming softly. It was quieter than usual, with only one other patron seated by the window. You were behind the counter, carefully arranging a fresh tray of pastries on display. The sight of you—focused, gentle in your movements—was enough to ground him, if only slightly.

You looked up at the sound of the bell, offering your usual shy smile when you saw him. “Good morning,” you said softly. “The usual?”

Hotch approached the counter, his expression softer than usual. “Not just yet,” he said, his voice steady. “I was hoping to talk to you for a moment first.”

You blinked, surprised, and set down the tray you’d been holding. “Oh… sure,” you murmured, folding your hands nervously in front of you. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Aaron said quickly, shaking his head. “I just wanted to say something that I think I haven’t been clear about.”

You tilted your head slightly, your curiosity evident despite your shyness. Aaron took a breath, his hands resting lightly on the counter.

“I’ve been coming here for a while now,” he began, his voice calm but sincere. “And while I do enjoy the coffee—and the pastries—what really keeps me coming back is you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and he saw the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your apron. “M-Me?” you stammered, clearly caught off guard.

“Yes, you,” Aaron said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and there’s a warmth about you that I’ve found myself looking forward to more than I expected. I realize I might not have made that clear before, and I didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.”

Your blush deepened, and for a moment, you looked like you weren’t sure what to say. “I… I thought you were just being nice,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never thought…”

Aaron’s smile grew slightly. “I wasn’t just being nice,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m interested, and if you’d like, I’d love to take you out to dinner. No coffee shop counters between us, just… us.”

You blinked up at him, your shyness warring with a hesitant excitement. “I… I’d like that,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly but full of sincerity. “I’d really like that.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Aaron felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He nodded, his smile softening. “Good. How about tomorrow night?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, your lips curving into a shy but genuine smile.

Of course, Aaron had the perfect place in mind. He shared that with you, and you both found a time that worked. He would do whatever it took to be here to pick you up for the date. 

As Aaron left the shop that morning, he felt a rare sense of anticipation blooming in his chest. Rossi was right—honesty had been the answer. And for the first time in years, he found himself looking forward to something beyond the next case.

Aaron Hotchner stood on the sidewalk in front of Sweet Beginnings, smoothing his tie as he glanced up at the windows above the shop. The lights in one of them were on—a warm, inviting glow spilling out onto the darkening street. It was where you lived, just above the place you’d built from scratch.

He took a steadying breath and checked his watch. It was still a few minutes before the time you’d agreed on, but he couldn’t resist being early. There was a quiet kind of excitement in him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

The door to the shop opened, and there you were. For a moment, Aaron froze.

You were stunning. The soft glow from the shop lights illuminated you as you stepped onto the sidewalk, your dress simple but elegant, perfectly complementing your natural beauty. Your hair fell just right, framing your face in a way that made his heart skip. He’d always thought there was something enchanting about you—your gentle demeanor, your shy smile—but seeing you like this, he was utterly captivated.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice almost tentative as you met his eyes.

Aaron blinked, recovering quickly, though his usual composure felt shaken. “Hi,” he replied, his tone warmer than usual. “You look… beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down, your fingers brushing against the strap of your small purse. “Thank you,” you murmured. “You look really nice too.”

Aaron smiled, his chest tightening slightly at your shy response. He stepped forward, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You nodded, slipping your hand lightly into the crook of his arm. As he led you toward his car, he couldn’t help but glance at you again. You had an air of grace about you, soft and unassuming, yet it commanded his full attention.

The restaurant he’d chosen was quiet and intimate, a small Italian place tucked away in a corner of the city. Candles flickered on the tables, casting a warm glow over the room. Aaron pulled out your chair for you before sitting across from you, marveling at how effortlessly you seemed to fit into the moment despite your shy nature.

His attention was entirely on you—the way you fidgeted lightly with the edge of your napkin, the faint blush on your cheeks every time his eyes lingered a moment too long.

“So,” he began, leaning slightly forward, his voice soft but steady, “what made you want to open a coffee shop?”

You looked down at your hands, hesitating for a moment before meeting his gaze. “I always loved baking,” you said, your voice quiet but laced with sincerity. “It’s… comforting. My grandmother used to bake with me when I was little. She’d always say there was nothing a warm pastry and a cup of coffee couldn’t fix.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a small smile. “Wise advice.”

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips. “When she passed, I just… I wanted to create a place that felt like her kitchen. A place where people could feel safe and welcome.”

“That’s exactly what you’ve done,” Aaron said, his tone warm. “Your shop has that kind of atmosphere. It’s different from anywhere else.”

Your blush deepened, and you ducked your head slightly. “Thank you,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “I’m glad it comes across that way.”

Aaron couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He was quickly learning how much he enjoyed making you blush—how your shy responses revealed so much about the gentle person you were.

“What about you?” you asked suddenly, your voice a little hesitant. “What… what made you want to join the FBI?”

Aaron paused, his expression softening as he considered the question. “I’ve always wanted to help people,” he said after a moment. He briefly went on to share about following in his father’s footsteps but creating his own path along the way. The way you allowed a platform for him to share so easily, the words and his own story coming out of his mouth without second thought. Something normally so foreign to him.

You nodded, your eyes thoughtful. “It must be hard, though… seeing everything you see.”

“It is,” Aaron admitted, his gaze steady. “But it’s worth it. And moments like this… they remind me there’s still good in the world.”

Your cheeks flushed again, and you looked down, unable to hold his gaze. “I don’t know if I’m really… good,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his voice firm but gentle. “You are. You have a way of making people feel seen, even in small ways. That’s a rare gift.”

You looked up at him, your lips parting slightly in surprise. “I… I’ve never thought of it that way,” you admitted, your blush deepening.

“Maybe you should,” Aaron replied with a faint smile.

Later in the evening, as the waiter cleared your plates, Aaron took a sip of his wine, watching the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Do you always blush this much?” he teased lightly, his tone warm and playful.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked down, your fingers brushing nervously against the tablecloth. “I—I can’t help it,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing. “I think it’s charming,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Though I’ll admit, I might be trying to make it happen more often.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and bashfulness. “That’s not fair,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your obvious embarrassment.

Aaron’s smile widened. “Life’s not always fair,” he said, his voice teasing. “But I’d say this moment is one of the better ones.”

You laughed quietly; the sound light and genuine, and Aaron felt a warmth spread through his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed moments like this—a simple, honest connection.

By the time the evening wound down and Aaron walked you back to your apartment, he felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Standing at your door, he couldn’t resist one last attempt to see that beautiful blush of yours.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he told you, his voice low and sincere. “You’re incredible. I feel… lucky to have spent tonight with you.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep pink, and you smiled shyly, looking down at your hands. “I feel lucky too,” you said softly.

Aaron chuckled lightly, his heart swelling at your words. “Goodnight,” he said gently, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice as soft as the warm light spilling from your doorway.

As he walked back to his car, Aaron felt something rare and undeniable. For the first time in years, he felt like he was stepping into something real, something special. And he couldn’t wait to see where it might lead.

The next morning at Sweet Beginnings began like any other for you. The familiar rhythm of grinding coffee beans, the hum of the espresso machine, and the gentle murmur of early-morning customers filled the space. But today, there was something unexpected—a delivery that arrived just before the rush.

The bouquet was stunning. Soft pink peonies, delicate white roses, and sprigs of lavender were arranged with care, their sweet fragrance filling the air as you stared at them in disbelief. Tucked among the blooms was a small card, the handwriting neat and precise.

Thank you for a wonderful evening. Looking forward to seeing you again soon. - Aaron

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you found yourself pressing the card to your chest as if the gesture could steady your racing heart. Flowers. For you. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had sent you flowers, much less something so thoughtful and beautiful. 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. You tried to focus on your work, but every time you glanced at the bouquet—now proudly displayed on the counter—you couldn’t help but blush.

When Aaron walked in later that morning, his usual confident stride was accompanied by a small flicker of uncertainty. He spotted the flowers immediately, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he approached the counter.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice warm.

You turned toward him, your eyes lighting up as you smiled shyly. “Good morning,” you replied softly. “Thank you… for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

Aaron’s smile widened, and he leaned slightly against the counter. “I’m glad you like them,” he said. “I thought you deserved something as lovely as you are.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep pink, and you looked down, fiddling nervously with the edge of your apron. “I don’t… I mean, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Aaron interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Last night reminded me of something I haven’t felt in a long time. Romance should be… intentional. Thoughtful. And you inspire me to want to do that.”

You glanced up at him, your wide eyes filled with something between surprise and bashful gratitude. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Aaron replied, his gaze steady and sincere. “Just let me keep doing this—showing you how much I enjoy being with you.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, the sincerity in his expression rendering you speechless. Finally, you nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Okay,” you whispered.

Aaron’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. He could feel the warmth in his chest spreading as he reached for his usual order. But today, when you handed him his coffee, your hands lingered just a moment longer than usual.

“Thank you,” you said again, your voice gentle but filled with meaning.

As Aaron left the shop, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You’d awakened something in him—a desire to court you properly, to show you just how much you meant to him. And he couldn’t wait to see where this journey would lead.

The BAU jet cruised quietly through the night sky, the hum of the engines a familiar backdrop to the subdued conversations and occasional shuffling of papers. Aaron Hotchner sat at the small table, ostensibly reviewing case files, but his mind was elsewhere. The faint glow of his phone screen on the table seemed to taunt him as he thought about you.

The first date had gone so well—better than he had expected, even. You had been soft-spoken but so genuine, your sweetness and warmth drawing him in like a balm to the chaos he so often faced. He wanted to see you again, to plan the next date, but the timing of this case had whisked him away before he could make it happen.

“Hotch, you good?” JJ’s voice broke through his thoughts, her tone light but laced with curiosity.

He glanced up, meeting her knowing smile with a faint raise of his brow. “I’m fine,” he replied evenly, though he could tell she wasn’t convinced.

“Uh-huh,” Rossi chimed in from across the aisle, his smirk already in place. “Fine enough to be lost in thought for the last hour? Let me guess, you’re not still running through case details.”

Aaron exhaled through his nose, not irritated but resigned. “Rossi, I don’t—”

“Let me guess,” Rossi interrupted with a teasing grin. “It’s got something to do with Sweet Beginnings and a certain someone who runs it.”

JJ’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, her curiosity piqued. “Wait, the coffee shop? The one with the owner Penelope’s been raving about?”

At the sound of her name, Penelope’s voice crackled through the laptop perched nearby, her face appearing on the video call. “Are we talking about her? Hotch, please tell me we’re talking about her.”

Aaron leaned back in his seat, clearly outnumbered, though a faint smile betrayed his amusement. “Yes, we went on a date,” he admitted, his voice calm but tinged with warmth.

The reaction was immediate. Penelope squealed so loudly that Spencer visibly flinched, while Rossi chuckled, clearly enjoying Aaron’s discomfort. JJ, however, leaned in slightly, her expression soft and encouraging.

“And?” JJ prompted gently.

“And it was… wonderful,” Aaron admitted after a pause. “But we didn’t make plans for a second date before I left for this case. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

“That’s an easy fix,” Rossi said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Shoot her a message. Let her know you’re thinking about her and that you want to see her again. Simple.”

“Penelope?” JJ interjected, turning to the laptop.

“Oh, he doesn’t need my help,” Penelope said, waving her hand dramatically. “Hotch has his own kind of charm—direct and a little broody, but it works. Just don’t overthink it, sir. She’ll swoon no matter what.”

Aaron shook his head with a faint chuckle, pulling his phone closer. He didn’t need much convincing. The thought of reaching out to you felt natural, not something to agonize over.

As the team’s chatter faded into the background, Aaron composed the message, keeping it simple but meaningful:

Hi. I’ve been thinking about you and how much I enjoyed our evening together. When I’m back, I’d love to take you out again—if you’re free, of course.

After rereading it once, he hit send, the faint hum of anticipation settling in his chest. He placed the phone face down on the table, not wanting to watch it, but his thoughts were already with you.

“Done?” Rossi asked, smirking as Aaron met his gaze.

“Done,” Aaron replied with a faint nod.

JJ smiled, nudging Rossi with her elbow. “Told you he didn’t need our help.”

Penelope’s delighted laugh echoed through the call. “Oh, he’s got this, JJ. We just like to cheer him on!”

Aaron rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head. Despite the teasing, he appreciated their support. For the first time in years, the prospect of romance felt like more than just an indulgence—it felt like something real, something worth pursuing. And he couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Aaron Hotchner spent the day chasing leads, directing the team, and piecing together profiles—but now, with the case temporarily at a lull, his thoughts had inevitably drifted back to you.

The gentle buzz of his phone pulled his attention, and he felt an inexplicable flicker of anticipation. Picking it up, he saw your name at the top of the screen, along with your response:

Hi, Aaron. I’ve been thinking about you too. I’d love to go on another date when you’re back. Just let me know when, and I’ll make sure I’m free.

Aaron exhaled slowly, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Relief? Gratitude? No—something softer. Something that warmed him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

He read the message again, letting the simplicity of your words settle over him. You’d been thinking about him. It was such a small thing, but it held so much weight. He could picture you shyly typing the message, your soft smile as you hesitated over every word. The thought brought a rare, genuine smile to his face.

He began typing his reply:

That’s perfect. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.

He paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. It wasn’t enough—not for what he wanted to convey. He deleted the last sentence and replaced it with:

That’s perfect. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.

It was bold, direct—words he wouldn’t normally allow himself to say. But you weren’t like anyone else. You brought out a softness in him, a desire to be open, to let you see the man behind the stoic facade.

After hitting send, Aaron set the phone down and leaned back in his chair. The faint hum of the air conditioner in the hotel room filled the silence, but his mind was anything but quiet. He thought of your gentle smile, the way your blush deepened when he complimented you, the quiet humility in everything you did. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and intensity of his world, and yet, it felt like exactly what he needed.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again. He reached for it, his heart inexplicably light as he read your reply:

I’ve been thinking about you too. I’ve never met anyone like you, Aaron. Take your time with the case—I’ll be here when you get back.

Aaron let out a quiet breath, his lips curving into another faint smile. He allowed himself a moment to simply sit there, phone in hand, savoring the thought of you waiting for him. It was a rare feeling for him—a sense of connection, of something good waiting for him beyond the cases, the paperwork, the endless responsibilities.

He typed one final response:

Thank you. That means more to me than you know. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. Sleep well, and take care.

After hitting send, Aaron placed his phone on the nightstand and leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying until now, when the thought of you seemed to lighten the weight. For the first time in years, he felt something entirely his own to look forward to. Something real. Something good.

Aaron Hotchner stood outside your coffee shop, his hand brushing the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on the way over. They weren’t as grand as the first ones he’d sent you—just a handful of simple daisies and lavender tied with a ribbon—but they felt right. Thoughtful, unassuming, like you.

He exhaled a slow breath, running his fingers through his hair before stepping inside. The soft chime of the bell announced his arrival, and his gaze immediately found you behind the counter.

You looked up at the sound, your eyes lighting up when they met his. A warm, shy smile spread across your face, and Aaron felt that familiar tightening in his chest, the one that had been there since your first date.

“Aaron,” you greeted softly, wiping your hands on your apron before stepping closer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, his voice softening in a way it rarely did. He extended the flowers toward you, his lips curving into a faint smile. “For you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush crept up your cheeks as you took the bouquet. “They’re beautiful,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over the petals. “Thank you.”

Aaron watched as you carefully set the flowers in a vase behind the counter, your touch so gentle it almost made him smile again. He’d spent years in a world where gentleness felt like a luxury, and yet, with you, it seemed so effortless.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady but warm.

You nodded, untying your apron and grabbing your bag. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Aaron said, his tone light but firm, and he was rewarded with the smallest laugh from you as you followed him out the door.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. Aaron had chosen a quiet spot just outside the city—a garden restaurant with fairy lights strung across trellises and the soft sound of live acoustic music in the background. He led you to a secluded table near the fountain, the glow of the lights reflecting in your wide, curious eyes.

“This is… beautiful,” you said softly, your gaze sweeping over the setting before landing back on him. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” Aaron replied simply, his gaze steady on yours.

Throughout the meal, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about your day, about the customers at the coffee shop, and how you’d been experimenting with new pastry recipes. Aaron listened intently, his expression softening as he watched you.

“And what about you?” you asked at one point, tilting your head slightly. “How was the case?”

“It went well,” Aaron said, his tone measured. “But it’s nice to be back. To be here with you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your plate, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re really good at making me blush,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “I think I enjoy it.”

You laughed lightly, the sound like music to his ears, and for a moment, he reveled in how at ease you made him feel.

Aaron walked you to your apartment door, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a warm hue over the quiet street. The evening had been perfect—dinner, conversation, and the kind of connection he hadn’t felt in years. Now, standing outside your door, he found himself reluctant to let the night end.

You turned to face him; your bag clutched lightly in one hand as you offered him a shy smile. “I really had a wonderful time tonight,” you said softly, your voice carrying the same gentle warmth that had captivated him since the moment he met you.

“So did I,” Aaron replied, his voice low but steady. He took a small step closer, his hands tucked into his coat pockets as his gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me take you out again.”

Your blush deepened, and you glanced down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I… I really like spending time with you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you know that.”

Aaron’s chest tightened at your words, and for a moment, all he could do was take in the sight of you—the way the faint pink in your cheeks mirrored the soft glow of the lights, the way your fingers fidgeted nervously with the strap of your bag.

“I do,” he said softly, his voice holding an honesty that surprised even himself. “And I feel the same way.”

Your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to say something else, but no words came. Instead, your gaze flickered to his lips for the briefest of moments before darting away, your shyness making you retreat a half-step.

Aaron caught the hesitation and knew he had to be the one to bridge the gap. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned closer, his movements careful and measured, giving you every chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t.

Your breath hitched as the space between you closed, and then his lips met yours—soft, warm, and full of unspoken promises.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if he were afraid to shatter the quiet intimacy of the moment. But when he felt you lean into him, your fingers brushing lightly against his coat sleeve, he allowed himself to deepen it just slightly, his hand coming up to rest lightly on your cheek.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his thumb brushing softly along your jawline. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion.

“For what?” you asked softly, your voice still trembling slightly from the kiss.

“For trusting me,” Aaron replied, his gaze meeting yours. “And for letting me be here with you.”

Your shy smile returned, and you shook your head lightly. “I should be thanking you,” you whispered.

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back, his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice warm but steady.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you replied, your cheeks still flushed as you opened the door and disappeared inside.

Aaron stood there for a moment, the faint hint of your perfume lingering in the air. As he turned to walk back to his car, a rare sense of contentment settled over him. The kiss had been more than just a moment—it was a beginning. And he couldn’t wait to see where it would take them.

Aaron sat in his office late into the evening, the dim light casting long shadows across the walls. His tie was loosened, his jacket draped over the back of his chair. The day’s paperwork sat in a neat stack on his desk, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

He thought about you—the shy way you smiled, the soft cadence of your voice, the way you seemed to bring warmth and light into even the simplest moments. There was something about your gentle, sweet demeanor that drew him in, and made him want to do more, be more. 

Aaron had always been a man of action, of logic and order. But with you, he found himself wanting to lean into something softer, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years: the romance of it all. Your femininity—delicate but unshakable—called to a side of him he hadn’t tapped into in a long time, the part that wanted to court you properly, to show you how deeply he cared.

Closing the last file of the night, Aaron leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips as an idea began to take shape. He wanted to do something special for you—something that would make you feel cherished. Not because you needed grand gestures but because you deserved to be celebrated.

He stood in the quiet bookstore, the scent of paper and leather-bound spines enveloping him as he carefully ran his fingers over the titles lining the shelves. He’d spent the day thinking about you—about the way your shy smile had lingered in his mind, about how you seemed to carry a quiet strength wrapped in gentleness. He wanted to give you something that reflected that—something meaningful, but not overwhelming.

As his fingers brushed over the spine of a beautiful, hardcover edition of one of his favorite novels, he paused. The cover was embossed with intricate details, and the pages were gilded with gold edges. He smiled to himself, knowing it was perfect. The book was a classic, timeless and heartfelt, just like you.

Later that evening, as you were tidying up Sweet Beginnings, the familiar chime of the bell startled you. You looked up to see Aaron stepping inside, his tall frame silhouetted by the glow of the streetlights behind him.

“Aaron,” you greeted, your voice soft but surprised. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he approached the counter. In his hands was a small, wrapped package.

Your eyes flicked to the gift, curiosity sparkling in your expression. “What’s this?”

Aaron placed it gently on the counter, his gaze steady but warm. “It’s for you,” he said simply. “Something I thought you might like.”

You blinked, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush as you reached for the package. Carefully unwrapping it, you gasped softly when the book came into view.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the gold edges of the pages. “Aaron, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, his voice firm but kind. “It reminded me of you. Thoughtful, timeless, and more meaningful than you probably realize.”

Your blush deepened, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. Finally, you looked up at him, your shy smile softening your features. “Thank you,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “This is… perfect.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, his chest tightening at the sight of your happiness. “I know how much you love your coffee shop and the comfort it brings people,” he said, his voice low. “This felt like something you could enjoy during those rare quiet moments.”

Your fingers clutched the book a little tighter, and you looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re… incredibly thoughtful,” you murmured, your voice almost trembling.

Aaron stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you make it easy to be,” he said softly.

The two of you stood there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the shop wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

“I’ll let you get back to closing up,” Aaron said after a moment, his voice gentle. “But… maybe we could plan that third date soon?”

Your shy smile widened, and you nodded, the book still cradled in your hands. “I’d love that.”

Aaron left the shop that night feeling lighter than he had in years. You inspired something in him—something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long. And with every step forward, he found himself wanting to match your sweetness with a depth of care and romance that felt entirely natural, entirely right.

 Aaron Hotchner turned to leave, but before he could take a step toward the door, your voice stopped him.

“Wait,” you said softly, almost hesitant.

He turned back, his eyes meeting yours, the shy smile still on your lips but now tinged with something he couldn’t quite place.

“I was just about to have a little treat before I finished up here,” you said, your voice gentle. “I was going to eat it alone, but… would you like to stay and share it with me?”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a faint smile, and he took a step closer, his eyes warm. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, your blush deepening slightly as you glanced down at the book still in your hands. “I think it’d be nice,” you murmured.

He hesitated only for a moment before pulling off his coat and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. “Then I’d love to stay.”

You disappeared into the back of the shop for a moment, leaving Aaron to settle into a chair by the counter. When you returned, you carried a small plate with two slices of pie, the golden crust gleaming under the soft light.

“It’s just apple pie,” you said, setting the plate down between you. “Nothing fancy, but it’s one of my favorites.”

Aaron picked up the fork you handed him, his gaze lingering on you as you slid into the seat across from him. “Apple pie happens to be one of my favorites, too,” he said, his tone light but warm.

You smiled, your blush deepening as you took a small bite. “Then I guess it’s perfect.”

As the two of you ate, the conversation flowed easily, though Aaron couldn’t help but watch the way you moved—so soft, so unassuming. He found himself leaning into the moment, his tone growing warmer, more teasing.

“You’re a hard person to say no to,” he said at one point, his gaze steady on yours.

You paused mid-bite, your eyes widening slightly as you glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile. “The way you asked me to stay just now. I don’t think I’ve ever been invited to something so… sweet. How could I say no to that?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your plate, fiddling with your fork. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” you murmured.

“You didn’t,” Aaron assured you, his voice low but firm. “In fact, I’m glad you did. Spending time with you—it’s the best part of my day.”

You froze for a moment, your fork clattering lightly against the plate as you looked up at him, your wide eyes shimmering with emotion. “You… really mean that?”

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I do,” he said softly. “You’re… remarkable. And I don’t just mean because of how kind and thoughtful you are. It’s not something I’ve experienced in a long time.”

Your breath hitched, and your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Aaron replied, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “But I hope you know how much I enjoy being here with you.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the shop wrapping around you both. Aaron could see the way your blush deepened, how your fingers nervously brushed against the edge of the table. It was endearing, and he found himself wanting to put you at ease in the only way he knew how.

“By the way,” he said, his tone turning playful, “if this is how you usually spend your evenings, I might have to make a habit of stopping by after hours.”

You laughed softly; the sound light and genuine, and Aaron felt a rare warmth spread through his chest. “I wouldn’t mind that,” you said shyly, your eyes meeting his again.

Aaron’s smile widened, and as he took another bite of pie, he realized that this moment—simple, unassuming, and shared with you—was everything he’d been looking for without even knowing it. For the first time in years, he felt completely at ease, entirely himself. And he couldn’t wait to see where this quiet, growing connection would take them.

Aaron took his last bite of pie, savoring the sweetness, but his attention was fully on you—the way your smile lingered, your cheeks still faintly flushed from his earlier words. You glanced at him shyly, your fork toying with the crumbs on your plate.

“I think you might be dangerous,” Aaron said suddenly, his voice low and teasing.

You looked up at him, startled. “Dangerous?”

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yes. You’ve got me sitting here in a coffee shop at the end of a long day, forgetting entirely about the rest of the world.” His dark eyes softened as they lingered on yours. “I think I could get used to this.”

Your blush deepened, and you bit your bottom lip, unsure how to respond. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a nervous laugh.

Aaron leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he lowered his voice. “It’s a very good thing. You make everything feel… easier. Brighter.”

You blinked, your gaze dropping to your hands. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before,” you admitted, your tone almost too soft to hear.

“Well, someone should have,” Aaron said gently. His voice was steady, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made you look up again. “Because it’s true. And you deserve to hear it.”

The quiet weight of his words settled between you, and for a moment, the air seemed charged with something unspoken. You fidgeted slightly, your fingers brushing the edge of the plate before you finally gathered the courage to speak.

“You’re… different than I thought you’d be,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re so serious at first, but then… you say things like that, and I don’t know what to do.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I’m still serious,” he said, leaning a little closer, his eyes crinkling with a rare smile. “But you make it hard to keep my guard up.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks again. “I… don’t know what to say to that,” you whispered.

“Then don’t say anything,” Aaron replied softly. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression shifting slightly—something warmer, more vulnerable. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll keep saying these things. Because I want you to know how I feel.”

You blinked at him, your heart racing at his words. “Aaron, I—”

Before you could finish, the sharp chime of your shop’s clock broke the moment, announcing the late hour. You glanced at it, startled. “Oh, it’s so late… I didn’t even realize.”

Aaron smiled, standing and grabbing his coat. “It is late,” he agreed, his tone still warm. “I should let you finish closing up.”

You stood as well, walking him toward the door, your hands twisting nervously in front of you.

Aaron paused at the door of the shop, his coat draped over his arm, his hand lingering on the handle. He didn’t want to leave—not yet. Not when the air between you felt so charged, so full of something unspoken.

“Thank you again,” you said softly, your fingers brushing the edges of your sleeves as if to steady yourself.

Aaron turned back to face you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’m the one who should be thanking you—for tonight, for letting me see this side of you.”

Your cheeks flushed, but instead of looking away as you usually did, you stepped a little closer. There was a flicker of resolve in your gaze, something shy but daring, and it caught Aaron off guard.

“Aaron,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “I’ve been thinking about this all night—about you.”

His breath hitched slightly, his posture straightening as he watched you, waiting.

“You’re kind and thoughtful and… everything I didn’t think someone like you would be,” you continued, your blush deepening. “And it’s making it really hard to not want to kiss you right now.”

Aaron blinked, stunned for a moment by your boldness. His lips parted slightly, and then a warm, genuine smile spread across his face—a rarity for him, but one that felt entirely natural in this moment.

“Then don’t stop yourself,” he said softly, his voice low and inviting.

Your breath caught, but before your nerves could take over, Aaron closed the space between you, his hand brushing gently against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was soft at first, tentative—like he was memorizing every small detail. But when he felt you relax into him, your hands lightly gripping the front of his shirt, he let himself deepen it just slightly, his other hand settling lightly on your waist.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his dark eyes searching yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that tonight,” he murmured, his voice rough with honesty.

You let out a soft laugh, your fingers still clutching his shirt. “I thought I was imagining it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You… being interested in me.”

Aaron shook his head slightly, his thumb brushing along your jawline. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he confessed. 

Your cheeks flushed again, but this time, you didn’t look away. Instead, you surprised him again, your boldness returning. “Well, if that’s the case, you should probably kiss me again,” you said, your tone soft but teasing.

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and warm, and his smile widened as he leaned in once more. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured before his lips found yours again.

This time, the kiss lingered, filled with a quiet intensity that made the world outside the shop disappear. When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling your face, he smiled at you—genuine, warm, and entirely captivated.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, your smile shy but glowing. “You’d better,” you teased lightly.

Aaron chuckled again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back toward the door. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice laced with quiet promise.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you replied, your voice filled with something hopeful and certain.

As Aaron walked out into the night, his heart felt lighter than it had in years. You had surprised him, challenged him, and made him feel something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long. And he couldn’t wait to see where this path with you would lead.

Days later, Aaron Hotchner stood at the door of Sweet Beginnings once again, the soft glow from the shop's windows spilling out onto the quiet street. In his hand, he carried a bottle of wine he’d picked up on his way—a thoughtful gesture for what you’d described as a more casual date tonight. You had insisted he didn’t need to bring anything, but Aaron couldn’t help himself. He wanted to show you how much he cared and how much he valued this time with you.

When you opened the door, you were already smiling, your cheeks faintly flushed from the lingering warmth of the shop’s ovens. You were dressed comfortably—a soft sweater and jeans—but to Aaron, you looked as stunning as ever.

“Hi,” you greeted softly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” Aaron replied, his voice warm. He handed you the bottle, and his lips quirked into a faint smile. “I thought this might pair well with dessert.”

You looked at the bottle and then back at him, “You didn’t have to do that,” you said, your voice grateful.

“I wanted to,” Aaron said simply, his dark eyes steady on yours.

You smiled again, setting the bottle on the counter before turning back to him. “I was thinking,” you began, your voice tinged with nervousness, “instead of staying down here… maybe we could go upstairs? It’s more comfortable.”

Aaron blinked, momentarily surprised by the invitation. He hadn’t expected you to suggest something so intimate, but the idea of seeing more of your world—of being closer to you—was one he couldn’t resist.

“If you’re comfortable with that,” he said gently, his tone leaving the decision entirely up to you.

You nodded, your smile shy but certain. “I am,” you said softly, turning toward the back staircase. “Come on.”

Your apartment was as warm and inviting as the shop below, filled with soft colors, cozy textures, and personal touches. Aaron took it all in as you gestured for him to sit on the couch, your nervous energy evident as you moved about the small space.

“I thought we could have dessert up here,” you said, your voice light but a little rushed. “I made a tart earlier, and—”

“Take your time,” Aaron said gently, cutting through your flustered tone. “It’s perfect.”

You paused, looking at him as he settled onto the couch, his expression soft and encouraging. His presence had a way of grounding you, even as the tension between you began to build.

You busied yourself in the kitchen for a moment, retrieving the tart and plates before joining him on the couch. Your hands trembled slightly as you handed him a plate, and you avoided his gaze, afraid he’d see the way your shyness warred with the growing tension between you.

“This looks amazing,” Aaron said, his voice sincere as he took a bite. “You really do have a gift.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you,” you murmured. “It’s just something I’ve always loved doing.”

Aaron watched you as you spoke, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. You could feel it—his intensity, the way he seemed to be taking in every detail. It made your heart race, the room feeling suddenly smaller.

After a few bites, Aaron set his plate down, leaning back slightly as he looked at you. “I wasn’t expecting to be invited up here,” he said softly, his tone measured but warm. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You laughed nervously, setting your own plate down. “I just thought… I don’t know. I wanted to share this part of me with you,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I know it’s not much, but it’s… mine.”

“It’s beautiful,” Aaron said, his voice low. “Like everything about you.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the tension in the room becoming palpable. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the space between you that seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“I don’t know how you do that,” you said suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Do what?” Aaron asked, his tone soft but curious.

“Say things like that,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing deeper. “You make me feel like I’m… someone else. Someone braver than I am.”

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t need to be anyone else,” he said firmly. “You’re already more than enough.”

The air between you felt electric, the pull undeniable. Your shyness kept you rooted in place, but the growing tension was impossible to ignore. Your fingers trembled as they brushed against the edge of your sweater, your eyes darting to his lips before you quickly looked away.

Aaron noticed, his sharp instincts picking up on every subtle movement, every unspoken thought. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back slightly, giving you space while his own restraint was tested by the sheer pull he felt toward you.

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

His words broke something in you—the careful wall you’d been holding up against the intensity of your feelings. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him, your voice trembling but bold.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” you said softly, your eyes locking onto his. “I just don’t know how to… do this.”

Aaron’s expression softened, and he reached out slowly, his hand brushing against yours. “You don’t have to know,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The tension between you was unbearable now, your shyness colliding with the desire blooming in your chest. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forward, your lips brushing softly against his.

Aaron froze for a moment, caught off guard by your sudden boldness, but then his hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips moving against yours in a kiss that was tender but filled with unspoken promise.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven. Aaron’s dark eyes searched yours, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“Was that brave enough for you?” you asked softly, your voice trembling but teasing.

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and warm, and leaned in to kiss you again. His answer was clear without needing words.

The space between you small but charged. His arm rested on the back of the couch, and though he wasn’t touching you, the closeness of his presence made your skin tingle.

You had leaned back after the kiss, trying to calm your racing heart, but Aaron’s eyes hadn’t left you. His steady, dark gaze followed every nervous movement of your hands as they fiddled with the edge of your sweater, every flutter of your lashes as you avoided his intense look.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded quickly, though your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “I’m fine,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “It’s just… you.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Me?”

You exhaled a shaky breath, finally daring to glance up at him. His eyes softened as they met yours, and the warmth in them gave you just enough courage to speak.

“You make me so flustered,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing even deeper. “The way you look at me… like right now. It’s… it’s overwhelming sometimes.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, his head dipping slightly as if to meet your eyes more fully. “Overwhelming in a bad way?” he asked, his tone teasing but still gentle.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not bad. Just… I don’t know how to handle it. You make me feel like I’m about to melt when you look at me like that.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. His hand moved from the back of the couch to rest lightly on your knee, the weight of it grounding you even as your heart raced faster.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. “The way you get flustered, the way you blush when I say something—it’s… charming. Sexy, even.”

Your eyes widened, and you froze for a moment before looking away again, your fingers brushing nervously against your lap. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me sexy before,” you whispered, your voice tinged with disbelief.

“Well,” Aaron said, leaning in slightly, his lips quirking into a small smile, “they should have. Because you are.”

Your breath caught, and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks again. “Aaron…”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady on yours. “You can tell me,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat, but his patience and warmth made it impossible to hold back. “I want you,” you blurted out, your voice trembling but honest. “I don’t know how to say it without sounding… I don’t know. But I do. I really, really want you.”

Aaron’s expression shifted, his eyes darkening slightly, though his smile remained. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about that,” he said, his tone low but full of reassurance. “Hearing you say that? Knowing you feel that way? It’s… everything.”

You bit your lip, your fingers gripping your sweater tightly as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “You just make me so nervous,” you admitted, your voice still trembling. “But I don’t want to be nervous. I want to be… confident. I want to be the kind of woman who can look at you and not completely fall apart.”

Aaron leaned closer, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. “Just be you,” he said firmly, his thumb brushing lightly along your skin. “I like that you get nervous. I like that you’re shy. It makes every moment with you feel… real.”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath catching at the sincerity in his voice. “You mean that?”

“I mean it,” he said, his gaze steady. “You’re perfect just as you are. And if I’m making you melt just by looking at you…” His lips curved into a faint smirk, and his tone dropped slightly, “I’d say we’re off to a good start.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking through your nervousness, and Aaron smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. This time, you didn’t pull away or shy away from his intensity. Instead, you let yourself lean into it, into him, feeling the tension between you shift into something warm and electric.

When the kiss ended, you rested your forehead against his, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Dangerous?” Aaron echoed, his voice filled with playful curiosity.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice tinged with teasing. “For my heart.”

Aaron chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Then I guess I’ll have to handle it with care,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet promise.

Aaron’s forehead remained lightly pressed against yours, his breath warm against your skin. The weight of his hand on your cheek felt grounding, yet the tension between you still simmered, charged with an unspoken pull that neither of you could ignore.

“I mean it,” Aaron said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was low but steady, filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “You don’t have to hide how you feel. Not with me.”

Your fingers trembled as they brushed against his shirt, gripping lightly as though to steady yourself. “It’s just… it’s so new,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

Aaron pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His dark gaze was steady, reassuring, but there was something else in it now—a quiet intensity that made your breath catch. “Neither have I,” he admitted, his words honest and deliberate. “Not like this.”

Your eyes searched his, the sincerity in his voice making you feel both exposed and comforted all at once. “You… you make it feel easy,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “Even when I’m nervous, even when I feel like I’m going to fall apart… you make it okay.”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his hand brushing softly along your cheek. “That’s how you make me feel, too,” he said, his voice low and warm.

The air between you thickened, the tension growing as his thumb traced slow, gentle circles against your skin. You leaned into his touch, your breath hitching as your body betrayed the restraint you were trying to hold onto.

“Aaron,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I want you to kiss me again.”

His gaze darkened slightly, and his smile softened, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he leaned in. “I’d be lying if I said I’ve wanted anything else all night,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

The kiss that followed was deeper this time, more purposeful. Aaron’s other hand rested lightly on your waist, his touch firm but not demanding. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pressing for more, but his presence alone made your skin tingle and your heart race.

You felt your shyness melting away under his attention, replaced by a slow-burning confidence that you hadn’t realized was there. Your hands moved from gripping his shirt to sliding up toward his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his sweater.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathing heavily, the silence filled with the sound of your shared breaths. Aaron’s forehead rested against yours once more, his eyes closed for a moment as though he were steadying himself.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said softly, his voice rough with restraint. “But I can’t lie—it’s taking everything in me not to lose myself in you right now.”

Your blush deepened, but instead of retreating, you surprised yourself by speaking boldly. “I don’t want to rush either,” you said, your voice trembling but certain. “But… I don’t want you to hold back, either. I want to feel this. I want to feel you.”

Aaron’s eyes snapped open, his dark gaze locking onto yours as though he were searching for any sign of doubt. But when he saw none, his lips curved into a small, almost reverent smile.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone low but steady.

You nodded, your fingers tightening slightly on his shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure,” you whispered.

Aaron leaned in again, his kiss slower this time, more deliberate. His hands moved gently, one brushing along your back while the other cradled your face. Every touch felt like a question, and every response from you—whether it was a sigh, a soft touch, or the way you leaned into him—was an answer.

The tension between you no longer felt like a battle but a dance, one that neither of you wanted to end. For the first time, you felt yourself fully surrendering to the moment, to him, letting go of the nervousness that had always held you back.

The warmth of Aaron’s touch grounded you, even as the tension between you spiraled into something electric. His hands, steady yet gentle, moved with purpose—one cradling your cheek, the other brushing down your back, pulling you closer. Every kiss seemed to deepen the connection, erasing the space between you both physically and emotionally.

You leaned into him fully, your hands sliding over his chest and up to his shoulders, clutching him like he was the only thing tethering you to the ground. Your nervousness was still there, but it was drowned out by the intensity of the moment, by the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world.

Aaron pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing uneven as he searched your eyes. “You can tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Anytime. I need you to know that.”

You shook your head quickly, your hands tightening on his shoulders. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

His gaze softened, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint smile. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his tone laced with admiration. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your shyness battling with the growing desire blooming in your chest. “I… I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could feel.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, and pressed a kiss to your forehead before capturing your lips again. This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with unspoken promises. His hands began to roam, exploring cautiously but with intent, and every touch sent a new wave of heat through your body.

You let out a soft gasp as his lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and to the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your hands slid into his hair, your fingers curling as you tilted your head, giving him better access. The sound of your sighs, soft and breathy, seemed to spur him on, his movements growing more confident.

“Aaron,” you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours once again. “Say the word,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. “Tell me what you want.”

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning as you met his gaze. “I want you,” you said softly but firmly, your hands sliding down to his chest. “All of you.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a faint smile, one filled with warmth and desire. He leaned in, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before standing, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as though you weighed nothing. The sudden motion made you laugh softly, your arms wrapping around his neck as he carried you toward your bedroom.

The tension between you reached its peak as he laid you down gently, his touch careful but sure. His gaze lingered on you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of admiration and desire that made your heart race. You reached for him, pulling him closer, and as his lips found yours again, the world around you seemed to melt away.

And then, as the night deepened, the rest was lost to the soft whispers of your names and the quiet, shared discovery of one another, every barrier between you finally falling away.

Time seemed to slow as Aaron’s lips pressed against yours, each kiss deeper, more tender than the last. His touch was reverent, like he was memorizing every curve, every sigh, every part of you that made you uniquely you. The tension between you wasn’t rushed or frenzied but deliberate, a dance of unspoken words and shared longing.

His hands, warm and steady, mapped your body like a treasured discovery. Every brush of his fingers was gentle but purposeful, igniting a warmth in you that spread like the soft glow of dawn breaking over the horizon. He treated you with a care you’d never known, as though you were something precious he’d been entrusted to protect.

Aaron’s gaze, dark and full of emotion, never left yours. Even as his lips traveled down your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that made your breath hitch, he watched you, his eyes seeking your every reaction. You felt seen in a way that made you both shy and emboldened, your body arching instinctively toward his touch.

The connection between you was unspoken but undeniable, every movement a reflection of the care and trust you’d built together. His whispered words, soft and low against your ear, sent shivers down your spine, and when he murmured your name, it sounded like a prayer.

You gave yourself to him completely, your hands exploring his strong, steady frame, marveling at the way his body responded to your touch. Each sigh, each quiet moan that escaped his lips, felt like an answer to the questions you didn’t know you were asking.

The way he held you, the way his touch lingered as though savoring every moment, made your heart swell. You’d never felt so adored, so cherished. The tenderness in his movements spoke of more than desire—it was devotion, a quiet declaration of everything he couldn’t yet put into words.

As the night deepened, you found yourself lost in him, and he in you. The world outside your small apartment faded into nothingness, leaving only the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths and the gentle hum of something deeper—something neither of you could deny.

And when the crescendo came, it wasn’t with fireworks or grand gestures but with a soft, shared sigh that spoke of contentment and connection. His forehead rested against yours, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face as he whispered your name one more time, his voice filled with a quiet awe that made your heart ache.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt safe, seen, and completely loved. It wasn’t just a joining of bodies—it was the start of something bigger, something that neither of you could deny. And as the night gave way to the quiet stillness of early morning, you knew that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

The first thing you noticed was the warmth—the kind that wasn’t just from the heavy quilt draped over you but from the solid presence beside you. Aaron’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand resting gently against your stomach. The steady rhythm of his breathing brushed softly against the back of your neck, grounding you in a way that felt almost surreal.

The faint golden light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Everything felt still, suspended in a quiet kind of intimacy that made you hesitant to move. For a moment, you simply lay there, your fingers brushing lightly over Aaron’s hand where it rested against you.

“You’re awake,” his voice came, low and rough from sleep.

You turned slightly, your cheeks warming at the realization that he’d caught you watching the way his fingers curled against your stomach. “I… didn’t want to wake you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and soothing. “I’ve been awake for a while,” he admitted, his arm tightening slightly around you. “I didn’t want to move and risk waking you.”

The tenderness in his words made your chest ache in the best way. You turned in his arms so you could face him, your eyes meeting his. His dark hair was slightly mussed from sleep, and the faint stubble on his jaw only added to the softness in his expression.

“Hi,” you said shyly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Hi,” he replied, his own lips curving into a faint smile. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch slow and deliberate.

You looked down for a moment, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. “Last night…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “It was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

Aaron’s thumb brushed lightly along your jawline, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him. “It was perfect,” he said simply, his tone filled with quiet conviction. “Because it was you.”

Your breath hitched at the honesty in his voice, and you felt the familiar heat rise to your cheeks. “You’re too good at saying things like that,” you murmured, your fingers brushing against his chest.

“I only say what I mean,” he replied, his gaze steady on yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was warm, filled with the unspoken connection that had grown steadily between you. You reached up tentatively, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” you admitted softly. “Not with anyone.”

Aaron leaned into your touch, his eyes softening as he covered your hand with his. “Neither have I,” he said, his voice low but certain. “And I don’t want it to stop.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you met his gaze. “It scares me,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “How much I feel for you. How much I… want this.”

Aaron’s hand slid down to rest against your waist, his grip firm but comforting. “It scares me too,” he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. “But I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for the first time, the fear that had been lurking at the edges of your mind seemed to fade. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and when he pulled you closer, you knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tangled together in the quiet morning light, the world outside your small apartment seeming far away. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel it fully—the hope, the joy, and the undeniable certainty that you had found something worth holding onto.

“Time for me to get up and open the shop,” you said, your voice tinged with regret. “And for you to get to work.”

Aaron sighed, his grip on you loosening reluctantly. “I suppose we can’t stay here all day.”

As you slipped out of bed and began to get ready, Aaron remained stretched out, watching you with a quiet intensity. You moved around the room with a blend of shyness and ease, glancing back at him occasionally, your cheeks flushing each time you caught his gaze.

“You’re staring,” you teased softly as you tied your apron over your casual dress.

“I am,” Aaron admitted unapologetically, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. “You make it hard not to.”

Your blush deepened, but you didn’t shy away this time.

At the BAU, Aaron Hotchner checked his watch as he sifted through a mountain of case files on his desk. He was already late for a briefing with the team, his morning a whirlwind of calls and paperwork. As he stood to leave, the familiar voice of Penelope Garcia carried across the bullpen.

“Hotch! Your favorite person is here—and no, it’s not me this time!”

He glanced up, eyebrows raised, and froze for a brief moment when he saw you standing beside Garcia, a tray of coffee in one hand and a small brown bag in the other. The sight of you in his office, your shy smile softening your features, made his heart tighten in a way he hadn’t expected.

You. Here. For him.

Aaron crossed the room in quick strides, his expression softening as he approached. “You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he said gently, his voice dropping to a private tone meant just for you.

“I wanted to,” you replied softly, holding out the tray. “I know you’re busy, and I thought… maybe this could make your day a little easier.”

The sincerity in your voice, the quiet thoughtfulness of the gesture, struck something deep within him. Taking the tray, his fingers brushed yours briefly, and he allowed himself a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm. “This means more than you know.”

Before he could say more, Penelope stepped in, her enthusiasm uncontainable. “And a pastry? Hotch, you’ve got a keeper!”

Aaron sighed lightly, glancing at Garcia with a faint shake of his head. “Garcia,” he said, his tone somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“What?” she said innocently, gesturing toward the tray. “I’m just stating facts.”

By now, JJ and Spencer had noticed the commotion and approached, curiosity evident in their expressions. JJ gave him a knowing look before turning her attention to you.

“You must be the owner of Sweet Beginnings,” JJ said warmly, extending a hand.

Aaron watched as you took the handshake, your shy smile making an appearance again. “I am,” you said softly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’ve got good taste, Hotch,” JJ teased, her gaze flickering back to him with a grin.

Aaron felt a faint warmth creep up his neck, but he kept his expression composed. “Let’s not make this a spectacle,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual edge.

Spencer stepped forward next, his natural awkwardness on full display. “I’ve read about coffee shops like yours,” he began, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke. “They act as community hubs, reducing isolation and fostering social interaction. It’s a fascinating model.”

Aaron’s gaze shifted to you, watching as you smiled gently at Reid’s rambling. “That’s one of the reasons I started it,” you said, your voice soft but genuine. “I wanted it to feel like a place where people could feel at home.”

Hearing you speak about your passion made Aaron’s chest tighten. He’d always admired your gentleness, but seeing you hold your own in the midst of his team—your shyness balanced by quiet confidence—made him feel something deeper, something solid.

Penelope, never one to let a moment pass without commentary, clapped her hands together. “You have no idea how much joy this brings me. Hotch hasn’t smiled this much in years, and now you’re here with coffee? You’re a saint--Hotch, can we keep her?”

Aaron gave her a sharp look, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “That’s enough, Garcia.”

You laughed softly, your blush deepening as you glanced at him. “I should probably let you get back to work,” you said, your voice still tinged with nervousness.

Aaron stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “I’ll walk you out.”

He led you toward the elevator, the rest of the team’s chatter fading into the background. When you reached the doors, Aaron turned to face you fully, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you—your shy smile, the faint blush still lingering on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “For coming here. For this.” He gestured toward the coffee tray still in his hand.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, though your smile told him otherwise.

“It’s not,” Aaron replied firmly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve made my day better in more ways than one.���

The elevator doors opened, and you hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. “I’ll see you soon?” you asked softly, your eyes meeting his.

“You will,” Aaron said, his voice steady but warm.

As the doors closed and you disappeared from view, Aaron stood there for a moment, the coffee tray still in his hands. His morning had started as chaos, but now, with the simple gift of your presence, everything felt lighter.

He returned to his desk, Penelope’s teasing grin already waiting for him. But as he sipped the coffee you’d brought, Aaron couldn’t help but think about how seamlessly you’d begun to fit into his life—and how much he wanted to keep it that way.

The weeks that followed were a blur of quiet mornings, shared laughter, and the slow, steady building of something undeniable between Aaron Hotchner and you. Each date felt like peeling back another layer, revealing more of who you both were beneath the carefully constructed walls life had required you to build.

Aaron found himself drawn to your world—the warm, comforting atmosphere of your coffee shop, the way you spoke about your love for creating a place where people could feel at home. He loved the way your cheeks flushed when he surprised you with flowers or when he praised your baking. You, in turn, found yourself mesmerized by the way Aaron balanced his intensity with softness, his protectiveness with vulnerability. He opened up to you in ways you knew were rare, sharing pieces of his past, his fears, and his hopes for the future.

The intimate moments between you grew, each one deepening the connection. There were stolen kisses in the quiet of your apartment, his hands gentle but firm as he pulled you closer. There were late-night phone calls when his cases kept him away, his voice low and soothing as he talked to you about everything and nothing. There were mornings where he lingered at your shop before work, his dark eyes lighting up at the sight of you bustling behind the counter.

Your shyness began to ease in his presence, replaced by a quiet confidence that bloomed under his care. Aaron, in turn, found himself leaning into the romance of it all—bringing you small gifts that reminded him of you, planning thoughtful dates where he could watch your eyes light up, and holding you close as though afraid to let go.

It wasn’t long before you both realized the depth of what was forming between you. Love, quiet and sure, began to weave its way into your lives. And while neither of you said the words out loud just yet, it was clear in the way he looked at you, in the way you reached for him, and in the way you both felt when you were together: like you had finally found a home in each other.

The day you met Jack was unassuming but transformative for Aaron. He had been nervous, more than he cared to admit, as he brought his son to your coffee shop one sunny Saturday morning. Jack, curious and wide-eyed, had taken to you immediately, charmed by your gentle demeanor and the way you spoke to him with such genuine care. 

You had knelt to his level, offering him a cookie you’d saved for him and asking about his favorite games with such ease that it made Aaron’s heart ache. Watching the two of you laugh together over a shared joke—or seeing Jack cling to your hand as you guided him behind the counter to show him the “secret bakery magic”—solidified something deep within Aaron. 

In that moment, he saw not only how naturally you fit into his world but how much joy you brought to his son’s life as well. It was as if a missing piece he hadn’t realized he was searching for had finally clicked into place, and for the first time in years, Aaron allowed himself to hope for a future filled with the love and warmth you brought so effortlessly into their lives.

The soft hum of the heater filled the quiet of your apartment as Aaron sat on your couch, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up after a long day. The scent of tea lingered in the air, the steam curling lazily from the cup you’d placed in front of him. He felt the weight of the day still on his shoulders, but the warmth of your home—and your presence—was already easing it away.

“You wouldn’t believe the guesses I got today about the ‘secret ingredient’ in my apple tarts,” you said with a small laugh, sitting across from him in the armchair. “Cinnamon, nutmeg… someone even suggested lavender.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Lavender? In an apple tart?”

“I know,” you said, laughing as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. It’d ruin the mystery.”

Aaron watched you as you spoke, your laughter soft and genuine, the way your hands moved expressively when you got caught up in a story. It was the kind of moment he never thought he’d have again—simple, comforting, and entirely yours.

“You’re good at this, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

You looked up at him, tilting your head slightly. “At what?”

“Making things feel lighter,” he replied, his gaze steady. “Easier.”

You blushed, a shy smile playing on your lips. “I think you just need more nights off.”

Aaron shook his head, his eyes not leaving yours. “It’s not about nights off,” he said quietly. “It’s you.”

The words came so easily, so naturally, that they surprised even him. He hadn’t planned to say them, but now that they were out there, he realized just how deeply he meant them.

Your blush deepened, and you ducked your head, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sweater. “Aaron…”

“Come here,” he said softly, patting the seat beside him.

You hesitated for only a moment before moving to sit next to him, leaning into his side. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you close as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was filled only with the soft ticking of the clock and the quiet hum of the heater. Aaron’s fingers traced absent patterns along your arm, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he began, his voice low but steady. “But I need to tell you something.”

You turned your head slightly, your wide eyes meeting his. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his hand stilling on your arm as he searched for the right words. But then, as he looked at you—your shy smile, your gentle eyes, the quiet strength in the way you leaned into him—he realized there was no point in holding back.

“I love you,” he said, the words quiet but firm. There was no hesitation in his tone now, no doubt. “I didn’t plan to say it, not tonight, but it’s true. And I need you to know that.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you stared at him, your cheeks flushed with emotion. “You… you do?”

“I do,” Aaron said, his voice softening as his hand moved to cup your cheek. “I know it’s fast, and I don’t want to overwhelm you. But you’ve brought something into my life I didn’t think I’d ever have again. And I mean it—every word.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and a radiant smile spread across your face as you reached up to cover his hand with yours. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

Aaron exhaled, relief and something deeper flooding through him. He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and tender, filled with everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that you knew was just for you. “You make me feel like myself again,” he murmured. “Like I’m not just… getting through the day.”

“You make me feel the same way,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his jaw.

In the quiet warmth of your apartment, with your heartbeats steady and aligned, Aaron realized that he hadn’t just fallen in love with you—he had found a future he hadn’t dared to hope for. And with you in his arms, it felt as though everything in his world had finally fallen into place.

The months that followed were filled with a quiet joy that neither of you had anticipated but both of you cherished. Aaron found himself carving out moments of calm amidst the chaos of his work, prioritizing time with you in a way that felt natural, even necessary. You, in turn, opened up in ways you never thought possible, letting him see every piece of you—your dreams, your fears, your past—and finding that he met each one with unwavering patience and care.

One evening, after a long day for both of you, Aaron arrived at your apartment with Jack in tow. The boy had insisted on bringing you a drawing he’d made—two stick figures holding hands, standing in front of a coffee shop with the words “Y/N and Dad” scrawled in his careful handwriting. The look on Aaron’s face as Jack handed it to you, beaming with pride, spoke volumes. He was proud of the life you were all building together, the way you had seamlessly become a part of his and Jack’s world.

Later that evening, as Jack dozed off on your couch, Aaron helped you clean up after dinner. The domesticity of the moment struck him—his sleeves rolled up, you at the sink rinsing dishes, both of you working in quiet harmony. It wasn’t just comfortable; it was home.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Aaron asked suddenly, his voice low but steady.

You glanced over your shoulder, your brow furrowing slightly at the question. “I do,” you said softly, drying your hands on a towel. “Why?”

Aaron turned to face you, his dark eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Because I see it. With you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your lips parting as you struggled to find the words to respond. Before you could speak, Aaron stepped closer, his hands settling lightly on your waist.

“I never thought I’d have this again,” he admitted, his voice quiet but filled with emotion. “A home. A partner. Someone who makes me want to be better every single day.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in, and you reached up to rest your hands on his chest. “Aaron…”

“I love you,” he said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. “I’ve loved you since I walked into your shop for the first time, even if I didn’t realize it then. And I’ll keep loving you—for as long as you’ll have me.”

Your tears spilled over, and you let out a soft, breathy laugh as you nodded. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I always will.”

Aaron leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The challenges of his job, the weight of his past—they didn’t disappear, but they no longer defined him. You were his future, and he was yours.

As Jack stirred on the couch, mumbling something about cookies in his sleep, Aaron pulled back with a soft chuckle. “I should probably put him to bed,” he said, his forehead resting against yours for a moment longer.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his jaw. “Stay,” you said softly. “Both of you. Stay tonight.”

Aaron’s eyes softened, and he nodded, his heart swelling with a quiet certainty. “We’d like that,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

That night, as the three of you settled into the cozy rhythm of your home, Aaron couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new. Not just a chapter, but an entirely different book—one filled with love, laughter, and a life he hadn’t dared to dream of until he met you. And as he held you close, with Jack asleep nearby, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[giuli4nna]

CHEER ME ON

— your relationship with boxer!hamzah is falling apart

my take on this ask

a/n: guys if this isn’t ur cup of tea i get it.. but i just had an urge to make hamzah yearn & i’ve been obsessed with malcolm todd

hamzah’s head is in your lap. the bleached strands of his short hair are damp with sweat, his body still humming with the leftover adrenaline from the fight.

the fresh bruise on his cheek is already darkening. his knuckles are torn up, the skin split and bloodied - but he doesn’t care.

he just looks up at you like he’s waiting for a treat. like a lapdog that learned a new trick and just wants to be told he did well.

you run your fingers through his hair out of habit, not tenderness. your eyes are fixed on the wall. you focus in on a crack in the paint, a thin little line running down from the ceiling. you think it’s grown since last week, when you were going through this exact same routine with him after his last match.

“you saw me?” he asks, voice low. almost shy. “you watched?”

you nod.

he smiles. it’s this small, soft thing - the kind of smile that says i only exist when you look at me.

you don’t say anything.

he waits. and waits. the silence stretches. then - “did i do good?”

you don’t mean to hesitate. you don’t mean to let the heavy quiet hang in the air - but it does. you’re trying to find the words, trying to feel anything strong enough to allow yourself to give him the praise he wants to hear.

eventually, you murmur, “yeah.”

that’s it. one word. barely audible.

it kind of kills him. not all at once. slowly, kind of like the growing crack in the paint on the wall.

his smile falters, just slightly. you feel it against your thighs - the way his body tenses, how his breath stutters for a second.

but, he recovers fast. almost too fast. that’s how you know he’s used to it.

“i fought hard,” he says, still looking up at you. “each time i hit ‘em, i was thinkin ‘bout you. wanted to win for you.”

you nod again. it’s easier than lying. easier than telling him i don’t know why i feel this way.

because really, you don’t know why you feel like this - so unmoved by anything his says.

you should be proud. you should be kissing him all over. you should be happy to have a boyfriend who loves you so much.

but all you feel is tired.

tired of being the reason he gets out of bed. tired of being the finish line he runs toward. tired of being loved like this - so fully, so desperately, it starts to feel like a cage.

you want to scream don’t love me so much.

isn’t that horrible?

but - how are you supposed to say that to someone who doesn’t know who he is without you?

the answer is simple. you can’t.

so, you just sit there. one hand in his hair, eyes on the crack in the paint, a small frown on your face.

hamzah closes his eyes. “next time,” he whispers, “i’ll win faster. better. i’ll make you proud for real.”

he shifts slightly, buries his face deeper between your thighs like he’s trying to disappear. you feel the faint damp of his sweat soak through the fabric of your shorts, the tremble in his hands as they wrap around your waist.

he holds you like he knows you might vanish if he lets go.

you keep thinking if you just try hard enough, you’ll snap out of it. you’ll look at him and uddenly feel that old warmth - that fire that used to burn so easily.

instead, all you feel is pressure. quiet and constant.

the problem with hamzah is that he thinks love is sacrifice. he thinks that bruised ribs and bloody fists are proof of his feelings.

he thinks that hurting for you means something.

all his devotion, all his sweetness, all his good intentions - all of it is strangling you.

“i’ll do more, if you want,” he says suddenly, a little louder now, sitting up slightly, hands gripping your thighs like he’s holding on for dear life. “tell me what’s missing. i’ll fix it. anything.“

you blink. his eyes are wide and wild with hope. not hope that things are okay. hope that he can make them okay.

hope that there’s still a version of himself he hasn’t tried becoming for you yet.

“you don’t need to fix anything,” you murmur. “you should..” you look away from him. the desperate expression on his face is unbearable. “..you should be proud of yourself, hamzah.”

he shakes his head. “i’m not doing this for me,” he breathes out, exasperated. “i never was.”

you’re not sure what pride there is to take in shedding blood and knocking out opponents when he’s not even doing it for himself. it makes you pity him, almost.

it’s not that he’s not enough. it’s that you don’t want anything anymore.

you don’t want to take what he’s offering - the pieces of his heart that he’s tearing out and trying to force into your hands, spilling blood over everything in the process.

he leans his forehead against your stomach, breathing hard.

he kisses your thigh. just once, gently. like he’s thanking you just for being there, even though you’re hardly responding to him.

your throat tightens. not from love, but from guilt.

you feel it in your chest - that weight that never leaves. and still, you say nothing. because what is there to say? that you’re sorry? that you don’t know why this is happening? that it’s not him, but also somehow entirely him?

for now, you just let him hold you. let him pretend. let yourself pretend, too.

because neither of you want to say it out loud, to admit what has been rotting quietly between you for months.

it’s ending.

he knows. you know.

you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the ache that’s building in your chest.

you want to reach out for him. you want to mean it. you want to give him the version of you that he deserves - the girlfriend who cheers, who claps, who runs into his arms after every match like he’s the whole world.

but you’re not sure where she went.

all you can do is sit there, pretending your silence is comfort. pretending you’re still in this.

and hamzah clings to your hips like you’re his lifeline. because even if your emotions aren’t in it, you’re still physically here. and for now, he’s going to take whatever he can get.

a/n: just so you know - i’m 100% referencing that one scene from challengers when art’s head is on tashi’s lap okay thx bye

xoxo giulia

taglist: @gulicore @thevoicelikesmartydoes @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @a1exaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @thefantastickid @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20

[novahreign]

Sinners

Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Lucinda “Lu/ Lil bit” Hawkins.

A/N: I wanted to give it a try. I’m a Smoke girlie. That’s my type of man.😜💙 I hope that you enjoy.

“Elijah. Please, don’t do this.” I begged gripping his bicep. “Please.” He gathered me in his arms.

I had been cheesing and humming all morning. Mama had gone into town and daddy was working, this was the only day that both of my parents would be gone and Elijah could come over. I finished my morning chores and freshened myself up from this hot Mississippi weather. I had been having sex with Elijah or Smoke, what most people called him, although I never taken a liken to it, for two full months and my folks were non the wiser. I smiled to myself, I just didn’t understand how something that was such a sin, felt so good. Elijah always knew how to me feel good, how to make me feel like a woman. He was always gentle too. Never harsh with me like he was to everyone else. My mother didn’t know what I saw in him, she just I didn’t understand, that’s all.

When Elijah came in, I was prepared to make love. He always did know how to work that thing between his legs to bring me so much pleasure, oh, and his tongue, sweet Mary, did he know how to use it on me, have me saying swear words that my mama would have my hind for, but instead of my sweet Elijah, I got the one with fear in his eyes. One I only saw a few times. He rushed inside and told me that he and his brother were leaving town. I could feel my heart bout to beat outta my chest. He gathered me in his arms, kissing the side of my head. “I gotta go Lu, don’t make this any harder for me.”

“Why are you doing this? Where are you going?!” I could feel my heart slowly crumbling as he worked to avoid my eyes. “Elijah, what did you do?”

His twin brother Elias “Stack” laid on the horn “Hurry nigga. We gots to go.” He seemed nervous as he scanned the dirt road. A man, I didn’t recognize sat in the drivers seat, kept his gaze straight ahead. “Smoke, let’s go!”

He looked at me with wary eyes “I gotta go baby.” He kissed me harder than he’d ever had before. I tried to savor every moment as I melted in his arm. “Promise me you’ll write.” I sensed his hesitation “You don’t have to say where you are, just let me know that you’re alright and that you’re thinking of me.”

He nodded his head “I’ll do that. I promise.” He kissed me one last time but before he made it to the end of the yard, I yelled out to him. “I love you Elijah.” He smirked “I love you too Lil bit.” I smiled faintly at the nickname that I hated, but would give anything to hear him say it forever. He hopped in the back of the car.

“Don’t forget to write.”

“I won’t! I promise.”

The car sped off down the road, leaving a cloud of dirt behind. I waved until I couldn’t see them anymore.

Sometime later, I learned that the twins killed their daddy or that’s Bessie’s grandmother was telling everybody. I know how cruel and evil his daddy could be and if that’s why he left then I could accept that. That was seven years ago. He never did write like he promised. I waited for years for a letter. Eventually I picked up the pieces of my heart and moved on as I best I could.

“Alright. Class is dismissed. You all go and make it home. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Bye, Ms. Hawkins.” The cute little brown faces of boys and girls exited the white painted barn that was used for schooling during the weekdays. I sighed as to face one little grumpy face child. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling but I put on my serious face.

“Lester Sims, You oughta be ashamed of the way that you carried on today.” His little frown loosened up some. “I expect better from you. You’re a smart boy and have a brain.” I tapped his head “Use it, because the next time you act like this, I’m liken to take a switch to you and I don’t want to have to do that, You hear me?”

He nodded his head and let out a gruff “Yes ma’am.”

“Alright now, gon and head home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stomped his way out of the barn as I began tidying up. I unsnapped the button to my blouse, it was hot as Satans tail in this classroom. Hearing footsteps I turned around.

“Lester, you’re always forgetting something, I tell you ever-“ my words got caught as I looked up.

“You as hard on poor Lester as your mama was on me and Stack.How you doing, Lu?”

I gripped the chair, to keep myself from falling, it was like looking at ghost. Elijah Moore stood in front of me. Bigger and more put together than I’ve seen a colored folk before. He tipped his hat “Elijah.” I said, my voice coming out way softer than I wanted or needed it to. Hell, I was mad at him. Seven years you’ve been gone and got the nerve to come back looking like this?! I cross my legs at the ankles. Seven years wasn’t enough time for my body to forget the only man to ever touch me. Then anger boiled in my chest. I dropped the broom, brushed past him, stomping my way out of the school, like Lester did. I was almost far enough when I felt a grip on my arm. I turned so fast bumping into his rock hard chest.

“Can we talk?” Tears welled up in my eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I tried my best to keep myself together. “Just stay the hell away from me.” I jerked from his arm, headed down the road, not once looking back. I couldn’t, not yet.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 25

The suffering of Bruce will continue for maybe 2 more chapters and then we're back on the timeline- Alien Rubicon was... painful. But it did make me finish ch26 so- enjoy-

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 25 >>next

You’ve gotten too used to the chaos, to something always happening- maybe that paranoia will be your downfall, maybe it was just your mind telling you your life wasn’t meant to know of peace and serenity. You did thrive on the adrenaline fights provided, no matter how much you dream of living quietly, painting and just existing in a better world.

Sadly, that wasn’t a reality that could be, not for you. So, while the sun was still yet to rise, you basked in the night, letting the shadows provide warmth and letting them speak to you- you haven’t done that in a while. “You’ve neglected us.” Maybe John was right for once- even if you initially laughed at the idea, meditating won’t hurt you now.

Well… you weren’t one to stay still for long, so despite letting your mind fly, eyes closed softly, you let your body twitch, shift, move as it wished. You let your thoughts and worries pass through you- let the thoughts that you were failing Debbie, or your brothers, come and go, you let the guilt that kept you awake go with them- even if it all still lingered. The shadow’s whispered nonsense became clearer the more time you spent like this, body resting on the recliner, warm blanket over you- “Open your eyes, darling.”

The clear voice made you flinch awake, and yet, as you looked around, it was clear you were dreaming, your body sat upright in a void of complete darkness. “It’s nice to finally meet you, daughter.” The voice accompanied by a warm hand made you gasp as you turned around, your eyes immediately meeting a woman’s, a woman you’ve never met before, and yet you knew her-

“You-you’re Death herself.” Your statement was met with a gentle caress and a loving smile as she confirmed her identity. Death has been written to be this cold, awful thing- ripping and painful- and maybe it was to others, but all you saw was love and melancholy. You saw the love of a sister and the sadness of loss only a mother could hold. “Did meditating kill me?” At your whispered words She could only laugh, a melodic thing that filled you with warmth, and you definitely understood why the Dacians referred to Her as they did. She was a sister guiding you, a mother to welcome you on a lonely road to whatever afterlife you believed in, the warmth needed to face mortality… but- “It’ll never be your turn. We both know that.”

“I would have caught you in your realm, but you move so fast, you could rival the speedsters. It won’t kill you to take it slow sometimes, but then again, Morpheus couldn’t understand that either.” She teases, and your cheeks flush. You felt like a child being scolded for drawing on the walls. “I have eternity and beyond at my disposal to take it slow-“

“You do. But do you understand what that means?” You knew. It’s another reason why you’ve been unable to sleep sometimes. Immortality- it’s a dream, especially when it comes with the powers gifted to you. “It’ll be lonely. I won’t age, but everyone- Mark, Oliver, dad, mom-“ your voice shook. “They will eventually have to walk by your side. While I’ll have to keep moving the other way.” It wasn’t natural for you to speak so freely about things so personal. But you couldn’t bring yourself to lie or do your usual avoidance tricks.

“You’re still holding back.” She said softly, with so much understanding that it made your lip tremble and your eyes tear up. “I appreciate it- I really do- I don’t want to give this up. This opens so many possibilities- I can learn every language, can learn any skill, and see so many things I wouldn’t have had the time to, but it still hurts so much to think about how everyone I know will eventually meet the same fate-“ She let you sob into her shoulder, her hands running soothingly over your back. “Yes. But what’s life without love and hurt? I know you think the one thing that makes humans human is hate, but I’m a romantic at heart-“  Her soft palm raised your head and wiped off your tears. “I think it’s love, and I’ve never seen love like you humans hold for each other, platonic or otherwise.”

“You came to tell me to be a lover?” You sniffle as you chuckle. “No. I’m just being selfish and wanted to see you.” Death nudges you. “But it won’t kill you. You’ll see, the fates have already sewn your threads. It’s just a matter of which one you decide to walk.” You didn’t move away from her, but you did wipe away your remaining tears. “Sounds like the illusion of choice.”

She just smiles. “You have choices. Plenty. And all will work out in the end. You’ll see.” Her hands came to cup your cheeks again. “Oh, you’ve grown so much- still tripping on stairs, but you’ve come so far in life.” You whined as she teased and pinched your cheeks. She truly was a mother in the end. “We’ll have eternity to know each other, but sadly, I can’t stay anymore. You make sure to visit Gotham too, she misses you-“

And just like that, you woke up before you could say your goodbyes, hand reaching for someone long gone. Your eyes barely opened, your relaxed expression turning into a frown as your eyes caught an imposing and dark figure flying just a few paces over you, its figure obstructed by the shadows in a familiar manner. “…Dad?” You groan as you raise a bit, your hands trying to rub the sleep from your face. “No.” The unfamiliar voice immediately woke you up fully, your body tensing.

✩₊˚.⋆��⋆⁺₊✧

Debbie has been sleeping in today, granted everyone did, so by the time they were supposed to eat, it was already lunch. Everyone was slugging, still tired from moving, packing, and unpacking, but Nolan’s and Debbie’s eyes moved over the present people, counting heads, before the mother locked eyes with her son. “Mark, is your sister still sleeping?”

The young adult shrugs, hair disheveled as he gets up. “I’ll go check, we stayed up quite late-“ A scream cut him off, and before he could react, his father was already outside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You’ve been staring at the balding Viltrumite for a while, and he’d been staring at you right back. “And he sent you to give me- this?” Your eyes went down to the- you weren’t sure how to describe it… It was a plant- that you were sure of. Similar to the carnivore Pamela had and yet it was very clearly alien. The colors of it are continuously changing, seemingly settling on a color when it feels strongly in one way- is it even sentient like that? “I offered.”

“You offered?” Your eyes went back up to him. “Yes. We’ve been watching you. We’ve seen you deal with Vidor with no hesitation, you’ve dealt with most enemies efficiently, put fear and doubt in quite a few of the younger ones, and stood up to Thragg with no fear whatsoever. You’re brutal and efficient. We two are similar to a point,”  you couldn’t help but trace your hairline at that, “we enjoy what we do. And yet people talk to you, they want to be your friend-“

“You Viltrumites have friends?” Your mouth moved faster than your brain could process, but your words only earned a dry laugh. “I guess we don’t, not in the sense you humans do-“ The man continued speaking, and the more he did, the more you felt bad for him and the Viltrumite way of living- even though a part of you felt like it was manipulation. “You can change all of that- but you haven’t, you’ve just accepted it as an absolute, unchanging fact.”

“If I go against the Empire everyone would be trying to eliminate me-“ You just huffed at his words. “They’re already against you. You’re so lonely most days you want to cry, they think you are unstable, you said that. If they think of you as a means to an end, what do you think will happen when they find someone better than you, whom they can control even more? You’re at rock bottom with nothing to lose, the only way is up.” You shrug. “Or just die in the ditch and cover yourself with the dirt you dug. You want change, you’ve gotta fight for it, grandpa. You’re giving incel ‘woe is me’ vibes right now.”

You looked back at the alien-plant thingy. “What even is this? How sentient is it?” Your eyebrows raised as the plant seemed to coo. “I can’t take care of a sentient thing that needs attention 24/7- I can barely keep up with taking care of myself-“ The plant stuck its- uh- tongue? Out and licked Conquest’s hand. “… Well… it likes you more.”

“I think it wants to eat me.” The deadpan way he delivered the line made you snort. “I- fair. I can’t keep a carnivorous plant around a baby, tho- so you can go back to Thragg and rip him to shreds-“ Conquest was quick to interrupt. “He wanted to give you the pelt of an intelligent and endangered alien species. Kregg and I insisted on the plant.”

“ ’aight- that makes both of you more intelligent because what-“ Your hands rubbed your face. “I’ll take the plant- just- no pelts of aliens, please.” You did as much, putting the little thing on the small accent table next to the chair. “… You’re still here.” You sigh. “I wanted to fight you.” You quickly answered that you weren’t going to fight him. “I’m on vacation- mom would kill me if she found out I went and picked a fight!” Conquest crosses his arms. “You’re afraid of your human mother?”

“Yes. Yes, and you should be too, a mother is a scary thing, and when she finally loses it, I know where I’ll stand.”  You floated up to his height just to poke his chest while at eye level with the Viltrumite. “Motherly instincts are an insane thing- that being said, I am bored.” You cross your arms. “…Have you ever heard of the game tag?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were ashamed of the scream that left your lips as Conquest grabbed your leg out of nowhere and turned you upside down, your body hanging limp as he laughed, boasting with glee that he won. You’ve had a good comment about it, but your focus was on the blur that crashed into the older Viltrumite making him let go of you. You kept your body floating on its side as you looked at Nolan ducking it out with the older Viltrumite, pouting as you realized this might be more complicated than it needed to be.

Keeping up with them was easy- making them slow down and listen wasn’t as easy. It did feel nice to know Nolan was so willing to fight for you, but alas, you had to bring out the big gun- Debbie. So with your mom in your arms and a very confused Mark, you let the woman tear into the two Viltrumites like they were little children, nodding along with her words. “And you-“ Your eyes widened as she turned her finger to point at you. “What were you thinking? Not only about interacting with him- but did you even sleep? Did you eat breakfast? You’re in your pajamas- it’s cold!”

“Grandpa Morgan isn’t that bad-“ You pouted. “Grandpa Morgan?” Everyone questioned, and you shrugged. “He said Conquest is more of a title than a name- He’s old and he sounds like Jeffrey Dean Morgan- so- Grandpa Morgan.” Debbie sighs and rubs her temple. “Wha- I can’t just keep calling him something he doesn’t want to be called-“ the oldest Viltrumite couldn’t stop himself from laughing, his shoulders shaking with the unhinged sound that escaped his throat.

“He’s laughing-“ You turned from Mark to Morgan. “You’re laughing at me?! I can just call you Jumbo, you old elephant-“ The balding man just laughed harder, making Nolan squirm with unease. “Mom!” You whined at the woman in your arms.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

As night came and your parents were getting ready for a party, you and Mark were feeding the alien plant thing to see what it liked- you were still pouting over Grandpa Morgan laughing at you. Alas, seeing the carnivorous thing favor eggs over mice or raw-cut meat was an interesting sight. Ivy’s plant was the opposite- but this may be because yours seems to still be a kid, she may need the calcium… You were getting too attached to the thing.

“Mark, what are you doing? Why aren’t you dressed?” Debbie’s voice brought both of your attention. Marked looked from you, dressed in a plain black dress with a set of pearl jewelry, back to his mom. “Well, I thought I could stay back and help April-“ Debbie crossed her arms. “If your sister has to come, so do you. Get dressed.” And Mark pouted, but did as told.

“Who’s throwing the party, and how were we invited anyway?” You ask as you put the eggs away. “Oliver Queen, I actually sold him a house about a year or two ago.” Your mother smiled as her fingers gently moved some of your stray hairs back in place. “Nice guy- a bit eccentric.”

“He’s a rich man. They all are. And he’s a hero, so…” You shrug. “Robin Hood, right?” Nolan’s voice came as he patted down his suit, making Mark snort as he too appeared. “Green Arrow, dad. But he does look like a Robin Hood movie fancast.”

“He’d make a great Robin, though Prince John would be more fitting, no?” You joke as you stick your thumb in your mouth and rub at your earlobe. Debbie, despite the twitch of her lip, swats at your hand. “Stop it. The man has done nothing wrong to us.” She tried to be stern, but the amusement was clear in her tone.

Your mom turned to April, but before she could speak the blonde woman was already going down the checklist. “-and I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the new family pet as well. Everything will be fine, Debbie. Enjoy the party.” Debbie sighs, but her shoulders relax. April was right- she was supposed to be relaxing on the family vacation… She felt it in her bones that the vacation wouldn’t be as relaxing as the average, normal family vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Nolan didn’t like parties, and he sure as hell hated all the heroes present at this one- Bruce included. Granted, he was glad that Mark and you stuck with Jason and his two red-headed friends. He squinted at your animated form speaking with the Tamaranean. You were too happy to be talking to her. Maybe it was a terrible idea.

“Leave it.” Debbie swatted at his chest. “They’re just talking.” Nolan pouts. “They’re too close, that other man too. Not to mention the other bats and their friends are trying to get close as well- I can just feel it.” Debbie raised an eyebrow while calling him paranoid, yet as her eyes drifted over a few of the heroes she recognized, she couldn’t help but feel the same.

You, on the other hand, were yapping Kory’s ears off with questions about her, mostly- Jason could only watch with amusement as your eyes sparkled at the tall woman. He knew you two would be immediate friends. His eyes drifted back to Roy who was talking with Mark, both complaining about shitty fathers. He couldn’t help but nod- this felt much more like a family, annoying little siblings and all.

Sadly, Jason never could get much peace these days- the sight of Slade with his crotch demons made his eyebrow twitch- wait… his- “Slade? Since when do your kids hang around you?” You asked before Jason could. “Are you really blackmailing them?” Your eyes moved to the three young adults behind the man. “Is he blackmailing you? Holding you hostage?” The three all seemed to smirk with amusement at the annoyance on their sperm donor as they all affirmed your line of questioning.

Slade just huffed, pouting as he turned to face you. “I’m not holding them hostage-“ The young woman commented something along the lines of him being too old to be holding anything up, which Slade ignored- “-but the media may have gone a bit crazy, and they wanted to meet you.”

“Is this about the prank? Because it was a one-and-done, old man.” Jason jumped in, and while Kory was still on edge, Roy and Mark immediately recognized what he meant. “Oh-yeah, Jason just wanted to mess with the bats- your father and Lex aren’t actually dating my sister- I’m uh- Mark, by the way. Nice to meet you.” Mark held his hand out and you did the same, introducing yourself and smiling once you could put names to their faces. “We were worried he had you under mind-control or something.” At Jericho’s amused voice humming through your heads, Slade sighs with defeat while you snort with amusement. “I fear I’m too thick-headed for that.”

“You call it thick-headed, I call it paranoid- not even John has as many protection spells set up, and I honestly think he needs them more than you.” Mark teases you. “There’s never too much protection-“ As you and Mark got into a friendly conversation with Slade’s kids, pulling a reluctant Roy and Kory in too, Jason’s eyes stayed on Slade's face. The annoyance on the man’s mug slowly turned to a softness the crime lord didn’t trust- it made Jason all kinds of twitchy.

The presence of Slade and his kids distracted Jason from the reason he brought Kory and Roy along to a party he otherwise would have avoided, Bruce. The man was inching his way closer and closer with each minute that passed- he was sure it’d be okay, despite what his kids said- You danced with Diana, let Oliver and Dinah twirl you around until all three of you got sick, you must be in a good mood.

However, he was making the same mistake over and over again, much like a crazy person, expecting a different outcome. He was approaching with his Brucie persona instead of the true face you knew him as. So, when his sickly-sweet voice called out your name with a familiarity he wasn’t deserving of, everyone around you noticed how you immediately tensed up. Slade’s hoard seemingly to be the first to crowd you and Mark as the man approached. Jason was right by them once the oldest Wayne was face to face with you.

Your eyes narrowed at the man. “Great. You’re here.” Bruce decides to brush off the annoyance and clear nervousness he brought you. “I was invited- but it’s nice to see my daughter while at it too.” Mark, the usually chill kid Jason knew him as, scoffed as he muttered under his breath about the man’s audacity. “Your mug is pissing me off.” Rose snorted at your bluntness, and Bruce’s smile twitched. To him, it was Jason all over again- but at least with him, he was sure he could fix it one way or another. He wasn’t even sure where or how to begin. “I just want to talk- actually talk-“

“Talk? You’ve had years to talk to me, just because now you feel guilty or some bullshit like that-“ Strike two for Bruce was interrupting you. “I know. But I’m still your father,” strike three, “and I have a right to see and speak to my daughter-“ And he’s out- quite literally. With one punch, he was out, passed out with his back flat on the floor, and Jason’s screech that turned into a boisterous laugh drew everyone's attention to your little group.

While Slade and Mark made quick work of grabbing you and pushing you away before you could start beating on the unconscious man, Tim sighed and pulled out a tablet, opened an Excel sheet titled “forgiveness chart” and started updating it. Steph looked over his shoulder, her eyes tracing over it. “What’s up with the numbers on Damian’s thing?” She asked, and Tim’s eyes followed what she was referring to. “54 72 79 20 74 6f 20 73 61 62 6f 74 61 67 65 2e” Tim looked at the blonde with a blank expression. “Must have been a glitch.” Stephanie gave him an unimpressed look. “Tim. Nobody believes that.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Kon-El kept replaying the punch one reporter caught as he tried not to laugh like Jason, who, if it weren’t for Roy, would be rolling on the floor. It was family night at the Kents, specifically “Make fun of what the rich wear” family night. “What did Bruce do to that poor girl? This is like the third time he gets hit by her.” Martha asked Clark, who was slumped, almost falling off the couch, as he rubbed at his face. He only groaned. “She seems like the type of woman who’d like to still work after marriage… I’d make a great house husband-“ Kon’s comment went ignored by everyone but his grandpa who started complaining about the economy and how he should keep working.

Jon’s eyes remained on the clip as it carried on playing when Kon stopped rewinding it. “It’s… a long story.” His mom sighed as she ate more of the popcorn they had around. “That man is getting more beat up than usual by his own kid-“ Grandpa Jonathan started with a huff. “We aren’t getting any younger, we have time.” Everyone’s attention was brought back to the TV as a reporter was quick to jump in front of you and your family, asking exactly what everyone wanted to know. And your angry glare and sadistic smile didn’t ease Clark’s worry. “I’m glad you asked- better be recording, because this is the only answer you’re getting to what my relationship with the fucker is-“

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince @swanluver @ohnoivefallen @eyeless-kun

The chart in question:

Tim doesn't know as much as he'd like to.

ch 26 Sneak peek

“It was a clean punch, good job.” Diana’s comment got a few reactions, mostly snickers and Hal almost choking on the coffee he was drinking, but her smile was due to the way you puffed out your chest. “Thank you- I’m glad someone can appreciate my skills.” Cecil huffed at the look you threw at him. “Anyway-“ He cleared his throat.

[blastzachilles]

meet… STANFORD ERA LESBIAN!ATP .ᐟ ★

a/n: hi guys the much promised part two of lesbian!atp headcanons… stanford edition! so sorry it took me three weeks to get these out i am in an insane slump right now…… i’ll be free soon (hopefully) i have so much i want to get out. and also thank you @peariote some of these are taken from conversations we have had… and thank you @diyasgarden my lovely for helping me flesh out tashi. anyway. please enjoy. smiles. 

CW: hints at nsfw

ART - VISUAL ARTS MAJOR .ᐟ

– VISUAL ARTS MAJOR ART who swears you’re her muse. Always begging you to let her use you as a model for whatever she’s working on, he’s positive her work simply turns out better when it’s of you. Nevermind the fact you’re almost always nude. 

– VISUAL ARTS MAJOR ART who is always covered in charcoal and paint, to the point he’s like a magnet. Even if she’s not doing a project with those mediums, it still finds its way onto him. Little do you know it’s because you said you loved the way she looks with it one day, and she’s never looked back.

– VISUAL ARTS MAJOR ART who loves that he has to learn photography because it means she can always capture moments of you for forever. Always has a camera on him whenever he’s with you to make sure she doesn’t miss anything. Anything from being in the shower to falling apart under her. She even teaches you photography just so you can take photos of her between your thighs or when her hands are too busy elsewhere to hold a camera.

– VISUAL ARTS MAJOR ART whose exhibitions always feature at least one piece of you, whether it be painting, photo, or sculpture, and are always dedicated to you. Whenever he sneaks you in for ‘early access,’ he always shows you these with the biggest grin on her face. She swears one day he’s going to do an exhibition solely of you (Never including the nude pieces. Those are hers and hers only). You know she will.   

PAT - FINANCE MAJOR .ᐟ

– FINANCE MAJOR PAT who went into finance for his parents, who want her to take over after graduating. He absolutely hates it, but listens and goes for the four years anyway. Their grades are average, simply because she cannot care enough to do more than scrape by. Despite the hatred, she still becomes the biggest finance bro possible. 

– FINANCE MAJOR PAT who has in fact been attempted to be recruited to a frat before. Walking past a tent during rush week had them handing him a form until they opened their mouth and spoke. This is his favourite story to tell when trying to get someone into her bed (“Come on, I was basically a frat brother. I can show you a good time too.”).

– FINANCE MAJOR PAT who is somehow at a new party every night. Brings a new girl home every night too, partially in thanks to the frat story above. Is known around campus for being the biggest sleazebag ever, but no one really cares if it means they get a night with her. 

– FINANCE MAJOR PAT who meets you and decides maybe you can change them. A one night stand where you treat her the best he’s ever been treated absolutely changes her world, and one night turns into two, and then three, and then she decides maybe there is more to life than just sleeping around and finally locks you down for herself (but it does take time for her to get used to just the one person, and there are some flirting incidents in the beginning). 

TASHI - COGNITIVE SCIENCE MAJOR .ᐟ

– COG SCI MAJOR TASHI who is the most disciplined person in college. Like poster girl of discipline level discipline. She creates a schedule and actually sticks to it. As you spend more time with her, you eventually catch onto it as well, and start doing most things together.

– COG SCI MAJOR TASHI who is incredibly dedicated to her studies. One of the top students in her classes. She is always studying whenever she has time, but hates not being around you. Her favourite kind of date is studying with you at a library or cafe, where she doesn’t need to choose between you and her work. 

– COG SCI MAJOR TASHI whose favourite courses are the natural sciences, particularly chemistry and biology. Something about learning how the body’s natural chemicals and processes draws her in, but she wants to make a difference with it, to make it mean something. So she minors in sociology alongside cog sci. 

– COG SCI MAJOR TASHI who eventually takes the MD and PhD route, so she can do research and help in a medical setting. She spends her time in class one day, volunteering at a hospital and shadowing a doctor the next, and uses what she learns to do exactly what she wanted to. To do something bigger than herself.

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[jukeboxsweethearttt]

Never Get Tired (Of Loving You)

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader/ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Even when you left JJ never got over you

an: I wrote this for @starfxkrinc in honor of her never watching the notebook everyone enjoys !

There was never a time when JJ Maybank didn’t love you. Not really. Not since that hot summer in sixth grade when you called him a loser with your hands on your hips and a watermelon Jolly Rancher in your mouth. Even then, when your curls were wild and your mouth was even wilder, you were it for him.

You knew it too.

By eighth grade, you were sneaking out your bedroom window to meet him at the dock, legs dangling over the water, arms brushing, kisses soft and clumsy under the stars. “M’sorry I don’t got money like your daddy,” he’d mumble every time he held you too close. But you’d just shove his shoulder and say, “I don’t want money, J. I want you.”

Still, by freshman year, he’d started dreaming. Big. Big enough for both of you.

“I’m gonna build you a house someday,” he told you on the back of his dirt bike one night after a fight with his dad. “Not some tiny ass shack, either. Real big. Porch swing. Garden in the back. A bathtub with jets.”

You giggled into his neck, “How’re you gonna do that?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

That’s what he always said. And somehow, you always believed him.

By senior year, you two were inseparable. JJ had started apprenticing with a contractor, working weekends and after school, saving every cent. “For the house,” he’d whisper against your collarbone. “For our kids. For everything.”

But your parents had other ideas. They always looked down on JJ, sneered at his busted up boots and the old truck he fixed up with Pope. “He’s not your future,” your mama would say while she flat-ironed your hair for college interviews. “He’s a phase.”

You didn’t think so. Until they made you choose.

A full ride to Magnolia & Whittemore University some fancy ass Southern school nobody ever heard of unless they had money. They put pressure on you. Threatened to cut you off. Told you JJ would never amount to anything.

And when you refused to listen, they set you up with Rafe Cameron.

You laughed when they suggested it. Rafe? The cokehead trust fund baby with the creepy eyes and the daddy issues? No thank you.

But then he cleaned up. Transferred schools. Became respectable. Started opening doors, saying the right things. And you were so lonely so damn angry at JJ for not fighting harder that eventually, you let Rafe take you to dinner.

Then to a weekend getaway in Charleston.

Then to meet his dad.

Then. he proposed.

And you said yes.

It wasn’t the love you had with JJ. That fire, that storm, that deep down I’d die for you shit. But it was something stable. Safe. Rafe had money, plans, his own company. You could breathe with him.

Except you always felt like something was missing.

JJ never stopped building the house.

It took him seven years. He bought the land in cash. Took side jobs, worked through hurricanes, slept in his truck some nights. Learned how to pour concrete and hang drywall and install plumbing.

All for you.

Even when you stopped writing. Even when you blocked his number. Even when Cleo told him you were living with Rafe now in a damn condo with granite counters and his and hers sinks.

He still built the damn house.

Three bedrooms. Huge porch. White trim. Clawfoot tub. Big windows so you could grow plants. A nursery painted yellow. Just in case.

He didn’t know why he was still doing it.

Until he saw you again.

You were in town visiting your parents. It was supposed to be a quick weekend trip dinner, a little shopping, then back to the bubble of Rafe’s world. But that day, it rained. Hard. The kind of storm that made the sky crack open and pour out every ounce of sadness it’d been holding in.

You were driving down old roads, heart full and confused after another fight with Rafe this time about your future, about what you’d give up for his dream.

You didn’t mean to drive past the lot. You hadn’t even known it was finished.

And then there it was.

Your house.

Not a dream anymore. Real. Solid. Standing.

And there he was.

JJ Maybank.

Shirt soaked to his chest, jeans clinging to his thighs, hair dripping. Standing on the porch with a paintbrush in one hand, staring out into the rain like he was waiting on a ghost.

Your breath caught. Your whole body stilled. The windshield blurred with water, and still, you couldn’t look away.

Your hands trembled as you parked and stepped out into the storm.

JJ didn’t notice you at first.

But you walked through the rain anyway, slow, cautious like if you moved too fast, it’d all vanish.

Finally, you called out over the thunder. “You actually built it.”

He turned.

And the second his eyes met yours, it was like the world stopped spinning.

Rain ran down his face like tears, but his expression didn’t change. Not at first. Just stunned. Still. Like he couldn’t believe you were real.

You were soaked by the time you reached the porch steps. He didn’t move. Neither did you.

The rain thundered on the roof.

“Why’re you here?” he asked, voice low, wrecked.

“I don’t know.”

“Is he with you?”

You shook your head. “No.”

He stared at you for a long time. His eyes searched your face like it held every answer to every question he’d ever been too afraid to ask.

Finally, “You happy?”

Your voice cracked. “I don’t know that either.”

He laughed then, bitter and wet and broken. Looked down at the porch boards he’d laid with his own hands.

“You didn’t even say goodbye.”

You swallowed. Rain clung to your lashes. “You didn’t ask me to stay.”

“I didn’t have to, baby. You were mine.”

He said it like a promise he never stopped keeping.

You were shaking now cold from the storm, dizzy from the past catching up all at once. “Do you hate me?”

His eyes locked with yours. “I’ll never hate you. I just.. I’ve waited so long to stop loving you. And I can’t.”

Lightning flashed above you.

And in the next heartbeat, he was pulling you to him like gravity, like fate, like he’d waited seven years for that one single moment.

His lips crashed into yours. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate. It was rain-soaked agony and heaven all at once.

Your fingers tangled in his wet hair. His hands found your back, your face, your waist like he needed to memorize you again.

“I built it for you,” he whispered against your mouth. “All of it.”

And in that storm, in his arms, in your house you remembered everything you ever needed to.

You didn’t go back to Rafe.

Not that night. Not the next.

You stayed in your house. The one JJ built.

And slowly, piece by piece, the life he promised you started to bloom.

You got married in the backyard barefoot, with daisies in your hair.

You had two kids girls with curly hair and wild grins.

You planted a garden.

You rocked on the porch swing every night with JJ, your hands always intertwined.

And when people asked you how long you’d been in love, you smiled and said, “Since we were twelve. He just had to build a house and wait in the rain to remind me.”

[malfoyscoffee]

cruel summer ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!reader genre fluff, slightest angst | 2.4k words | best friends to lovers warnings mentions of alcohol consumption, crying, and au with no voldemort. song "cruel summer" — lover, taylor swift

It was the best summer you could have asked for.

All your friends had decided to spend your last summer before graduation at one of your estates; one located in a small yet beautiful muggle town where no one knew of your identities.

Your big and empty villa helped everyone have their own space. Yet you had spent every waking moment making more fun memories and getting close to your friends, especially Theodore.

Even yesterday, the two of you went out to the nearby beach and returned drenched from the ocean water and rain combined, forgetting to bring spare clothes to the spontaneous trip. Your friends didn’t bat an eye when the two of you returned like wet dogs, knowing it was normal for you two to go on your own adventures.

Today marked the final three days before summer ended before you had to return to Hogwarts for your seventh year.

The sun was starting to set, painting the sky with pastel colors, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of ash from the bonfire that Mattheo and Blaise had started. Your group had recently learned of a muggle snack called Smores, so everyone found a spot around the fire, trying to make the treat for the first time.

“We should all go out to the town bar later tonight since it’s better to be hungover tomorrow than the last day,” Draco suggested, leaning back in his seat as you took a bite out of the dessert. You leaned over to Theodore, who shared the spacious seat with you, letting him take a bite too.

"That’s a brilliant idea, it's our last night to drink before we start the semester,” Mattheo agreed, nodding along with what most of the group was thinking.

Theodore shifted next to you, leaning down on your shoulder while speaking up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so go without me.”

You looked at your best friend closely, not realizing sooner that he had felt sick today.

"Did you catch a cold from yesterday?” Pansy inquired, reaching over to one of the plates to grab some graham crackers. There were many plates sprawled out over the side tables filled with crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

You felt Theodore nod next to you, "Yeah, I think it’s from the rain yesterday, I’ll be fine though. You guys go without me,” Theodore reassured, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

“I’ll come to pick you up if you want to head back early from the bar later,” He spoke with his mouth full, making you laugh as you could barely make out his sentence.

After he finished eating the marshmallow, he placed his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Thanks, Theo,” You said before taking the last bite of your Smore.

He smiled brightly at you before the group soon fell into different topics. 

You eventually got up from your seat, walking over to the girls to listen to the latest gossip that Pansy heard through the grapevine.

However, a conversation caught the attention of everyone.

“You're going to go abroad?” Lorenzo's eyes widened at Theodore's announcement, causing a hush to fall over the group.

You turned straight to where you were previously sitting. Blaise was the next to speak, “Mate, when was this decided?” Everyone waited for Theodore’s response while your nervousness suddenly kicked in.

Sure, none of you verbally discussed your future after Hogwarts, but it was a silent agreement assumption that all your friends would settle down nearby.

“I’m planning on going to the States for a while, nothing is set yet though.”

Your heart sank as you watched Theodore's gaze meet yours, his expression a mixture of regret and apprehension.

"When were you going to tell us?” You questioned, still shocked by this announcement.

He looked down at his hands, feeling ashamed for keeping this from everyone, especially you.

“i just didn’t know when to bring it up, so thanks Enz,” Theodore glared at Lorenzo, “For dropping the bomb like this.” He spoke sarcastically at the boy who sighed.

Astoria tried to lighten the mood, noticing the frown on your lips, “Draco, aren’t you going to London after we graduate?”

The conversation shifted to Draco’s plans to study in university longer to become a healer before the group shifted to another topic.

You couldn’t focus after hearing about Theodore’s future plans being abroad, meaning it would get hard to see him.

But why were you worried when he was just your best friend?

“Hey, can you both go inside and help me get more ingredients?” Pansy asked you and Astoria loudly, the two of you agreed to go inside for a moment.

“So, are you going to tell Theo?” Astoria looked at you, curiosity playing in her eyes. She walked over to the shopping bags on the kitchen island to grab more chocolate bars.

“Tell Theo what?” You stare at her with confusion, walking over to your pantry to grab the marshmallow bags. Pansy sighed, setting out more plates for the ingredients on the counter.

“Are you going to tell Theo that you like him?” You froze your actions for a second, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the marshmallow bag in your arms.

“What do you mean? We're just best friends.” You wave them off and open the bag.

Astoria slaps a hand to her forehead, “Yeah, but you fancied him for years! Also, the two of you have been hanging out every single day of our summer. What two best friends don’t get sick of each other and act like a couple?”

“Two blind idiots, that is.” Pansy finishes Astoria’s question, right as you finish pouring the marshmallows.

You sigh, “Okay, sure I fancy Theo. But you guys just heard that he’s leaving for the states after graduation. I won’t even see him, so it’s hopeless.”

You felt yourself getting more upset at the idea that Theodore didn’t tell you before, “Why did he hide that information though?”

Astoria walked around the kitchen island to comfort you, a hand resting on your back. "You know, it’s okay if you do end up confessing to Theo. We still have one year at school together,” Astoria comforted you.

Pansy picks up the plates you filled and sets it on the island, “Also, didn’t you hear when he said it’s not set yet? He might not go abroad, who knows?”

You turn around and grab the plates, walking towards the door to go back outside, “It's useless, he doesn’t like me back. Let's just forget this happened.”

A few hours later, you sat in a booth at the town’s muggle bar with everyone except Theodore.

The muggle bar was bustling with activity, filled with the raucous sounds of drunken laughter and the rhythmic beat of music from the large speakers. Your group opted to sit in the big booth instead, the furthest away from the commotion. This was more fun as it was similar to what you did at parties back at Hogwarts.

In front of you laid three empty pitchers, once full of dirty shirleys, the alcohol gone in two hours due to your rushed drinking.

“Can someone drink the rest of my vodka cran?” Astoria asked, leaning into Blaise’s shoulder. Everyone chuckled at her behavior, knowing Astoria was always the first one to get tired while drinking.

Blaise pushed her cup towards Mattheo, who gladly accepted the drink for himself. Most of your friends had a high alcohol tolerance, so it was expected to drink for hours.

“It’s okay, you can close your eyes for a bit,” Blaise spoke while looking down at Astoria with adoring eyes. The entire group saw the interaction, feeling bittersweet about the affectionate couple in your friend group.

“Salazar, if only I had a boyfriend who would watch me while I'm out drinking,” You spoke while grabbing Astoria’s—now Mattheo’s, drink and chugging it down.

Everyone was taken aback by your action because this was not how you usually acted during the many years of drinking with you. 

“You do have someone who takes care of you every time you drink.” Draco reminds you while pushing the vodka cranberry away from you.

You stare at Draco with wide eyes, “No, Dray, Theo only sees me as a friend.” You let out a dramatic sigh and your friends laugh at your obvious crush, which only Theodore hasn’t picked up on yet.

Draco puts his hands up in surrender, but with his signature smirk, “I didn’t even have to say his name for you to talk about him, huh?”

“Theodore Nott, my best friend, does not like me.” You groan while putting your hands on your eyes and leaning back in the comfortable seat.

Tears welled up in your eyes, catching everyone off guard as your emotions spilled over. “Guys, Thor’s going to leave for the States. How will I see him when he’s abroad for Merlin knows how long?”

Pansy started to pass your napkins to wipe away your tears, while Lorenzo took out his phone. “I’m going to text Theo to pick her up.”

Pansy nodded at Lorenzo before looking at you in pity, “Yeah, she’s going to be out soon.”

Everyone kept their gaze on you as your tears eventually stopped falling. “Rest your head and sleep a little.” Mattheo spoke while moving your head to his shoulder while you closed your eyes.

Seeing your eyes closed, Draco twirled the black straw in his cup, “So when do you guys think they’re going to get together?”

Pansy chuckled at the comment, taking out her phone to snap a few photos of you for memory's sake. “First week after we get back to school, I’ll bet on it.”

"I say in one day,” Mattheo chimed in with a grin, resuming the conversation while you rested.

"Theodore!” You exclaim while running to your best friend. You pull him into a hug while breaking into a big smile, Theodore laughing at your drunk state.

Theodore waves behind you to say goodbye to Mattheo and Pansy, who walked you outside the building. Everyone else planned to stay longer at the bar.

The fresh cold breeze greeted you as you stepped outside, causing you to shiver lightly for not dressing for the weather.

Theodore quickly draped his hoodie over your head, the fabric offering warmth against the chilly evening air.

The cold breeze nipped at your skin, causing goosebumps to form as you wrapped Theodore’s hoodie tighter around yourself.

Theodore quickly found your hand and intertwined it, a smile reaching both of your faces. The two of you walked back to the villa in comfortable silence.

It was a short walk back and when you arrived, you excitedly pulled Theodore to your spot.

You had told Theodore about the garden kept away in the gates in the back of your villa, hanging out many times during your stay. You decided to keep the garden a secret, wanting it to be your little hideout.

“Did you have a fun time?” Theodore asks first, walking towards the white bench placed in the garden.

You shake your head, staring at your connected hands,“No, Blaise and Astoria were being so cute it made me sad.”

Theodore frowned, pulling you to sit down next to him. Your connected hands were placed on his lap.

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything” Theodore reassured, unsure if you would open up to him while being drunk. He knew the walk back would sober you up a bit, but not completely.

“It’s just,” You stopped to think about your next words while Theodore waited for you to continue.

“Never mind, I’m fine.”

“But that’s not true.”

Theodore’s gaze bore into your own, not making any effort to move. The moonlight cast a soft glow over Theodore's features, illuminating his face as he looked at you with a mixture of concern and affection.

"Let’s just go inside,” You suggest, standing up from the bench and pulling his hand.

“Did you cry?” Theodore asks, being able to see your face more clearly after you’ve stood up.

Theodore rose and cupped a hand on your face, tracing over your cheeks. “Why did you cry?”

You place a hand over his hand, moving it away from his face. “This,” You break free from his hold completely and take a step to create space away from him, “Theo, this is why I cried. You’re the reason that I cried.”

Theodore stares at you without saying anything, making you more frustrated.

“Theo, I love you, isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” You yell your confession, finally voicing the feelings you’ve kept from him. Your heart raced as you finally voiced the feelings you had kept hidden for so long, the weight of your confession hanging in the air.

Theodore had a devious grin on his face, his laughter echoing in the quiet garden as he pulled you into a reassuring hug. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life.”

You stand there shocked at his actions, “No,” You mumble into his shoulder. “No, this can’t be happening.”

You pull away from his hug, “Theo, you’re going abroad after graduation, I won’t even see you. Salazar, how is this even going to happen? No, how are we going to happen? Wait, do you even like me?”

As Theodore pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, you felt a surge of warmth flood through you, dispelling the lingering doubts and fears. “You really can’t see that I’ve loved you since first year?”

Your mouth is open from shock, and Theodore laughs once again, this time wiping the tears away.

“This can work. I’ll be gone for a few months but I’ll come back, here, to be with you.”

You look at Theodore, a smile now forming, “So we can do this? Give this relationship a try?”

“Yes, now let’s walk inside, you’re going to catch a cold.”

You give Theodore a quick peck on his cheek, before taking his hand again.

“You know,” Theodore pulls your intertwined hands to kiss your hand, leading you to exit the garden.

You blush at his action, “What?” You ask curiously.

“It’s a cruel summer with you.”

And you can guess that Mattheo won that bet.

[nana-luvy]

-> 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

warnings: fem!reader, just fluff

“How have you, you of all people, never gotten to bake cookies ?” Luke asked with a gentle smile as he watched you tire yourself while whisking the thick paste.

You added a little bit of milk, as he instructed, before answering.

“I don’t know, my dad wasn’t really the baking type. Or cooking, really,” you simply said, straining a little against the rebelliously thick dough you couldn’t seem to get to tame. “I only ate cookies he bought sometimes.”

You and Luke had been chosen by the rest of the friend group to bake cookies for the upcoming movie night, a task you had absolutely dreaded ever since you’d told him you had never been anywhere near a baking instrument in your life. Connor had made sure there were enough supplies for a whole weekend of eating only snack and had then ushered you two to the sorta kitchen in the Big house, claiming Mr. D wasn’t here so you wouldn’t get in any trouble.

But the real reason why you dreaded the moment was because it meant you guys would be together alone for however long it takes to bake those biscuits, and it was not a situation you wholeheartedly enjoyed. Sure, Luke was your friend, and you loved him like that, but you just couldn’t bare the looks Silena threw your way anytime you were just remotely close, like there was something going on. And you knew very well you’d barely see a scene of the movie before she’d get you alone to debrief whatever nothingness had happened to feed her fantasies.

At least you’d got to learn how cookies were made, now. And boy was it difficult on your arm muscles, like a full blown workout Luke couldn't help but make fun of.

“Really? Well at least now you get I try for the first time in the best of compan-”

Luke's mouth parted in a surprised ‘o’ shape as, after you added a little flour to the mix, you sent it flying his way with a too harsh of a flick of your wrist.

“…sorry…” you muttered, unsure whether you should be mortified or dying from laughter as the boy looked at you with round eyes and white powder sprayed on his face and graying his hair.

His lips closed and opened again as he processed, his hand reaching for the whisk in your hand.

“Luke, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to d- HEY-”

And as Luke’s mouth stretched into a smug smile when a small cloud of flour flew your way too, coughing out the small amount that got on your tongue, it quickly escalated and got out of hand. You seized the opened pack of flour, grabbing a handful before aiming for the brunette boy and painting his shirt white, before he snatched it from your hands and emptied half the content right above your head, decorating the wooden floor in the process.

And as ingredients flew everywhere but into the mixing bowl, you started thinking maybe baking was funnier than you thought at first.

Your banter eventually died down, panting heavily after you chased Luke around the kitchen island in quick circles while he just looked at you with the stupidest smile on his face. “See ? Pretty fun activity, right ?”

“I think we got side-tracked at some point…”

“How would you know, you never baked cookies before, have you ?”

You shook your head in disbelief, though paired with a soft laugh at his antics, while he could only grin ear to ear, finally stepping back towards you and the actual cookie dough still unfinished.

“I’ll help finish that up, pre-heat the oven, yeah ?”

But you tightly held onto the whisk as he motioned for you to hand it over. “No, I’ll do it, it’s fine.”

“What ?” he said with what could almost be described as a giggle. “You literally colored me white while trying to finish that earlier.” His fingers brushed yours as he tried to take the instrument from your tight grip. “Just let me do it ?”

And as you looked up to refuse while looking in his eyes, you found his eyes really quickly. Because they were really close. And all of a second, you were very aware of his chest pressing on your shoulder, of the small electricity jolts running up your hand where his fingers touched, and of the way his calm breath was hitting your nose from how close he was to your face.

You didn’t move for a moment there, letting the instant sink in, and as you looked right in his eyes you could’ve sworn his gaze had flickered to your lips for a split second.

You hastily removed your hand, letting the whisk clatter against the glass bowl. “I- Yeah, you’re right, I’ll just… deal with the oven. How hot ?” you asked, moving towards the over to put in the right temperature, weirdly wanting to put space between the two of you there.

“Really hot… Um shi- no, I mean, 325 degrees, 12 minutes.”

You set the right temperature, pre-setting the magnetic timer on the over door, before softly dusting the flour off your clothes, softly as to not break the silence that had suddenly fell on the room.

“Sooo… you bake a lot ?” you asked, not really good with awkward silence, trying to fill up the room as you fidgeted with your fingers.

“Baked, past tense. Used to with my mom, sometimes.”

“Oh…”

But even with the awkward beginning, the conversation went flowing right back, again with the harmless banter and casual memory-sharing until the chocolate-chip cookies were out of the oven and the others flooded the room, trying to eat your hard work already before the movie night even started.

As you sat on the other end of the couch, now, the iconic Drew Barrymore opening scene from Scream playing on the vintage TV, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Luke on the other side of the sofa. And you heart quickened when your gaze crossed his, his head cocking to the side, and he sent you a knowing wink before turning his attention back on the movie.

Let’s say this time you were the one dragging Silena out of the room for a much needed girl talk.

Slowly getting back into writing, the hard part of the year is overrrrr

Love you all <3

- Nana

[nickeverdeen]

Zuko reacting to reader trying on makeup for the first time- (re sending this request lol)

In advance I apologize if I’ll get something wrong, I don’t really understand make-up and how it’s used

————————————————————

Hcs Zuko x reader who’s trying make-up on for the first time

Zuko would initially be confused and intrigued as he watches you carefully apply different makeup products for the first time

He might express concern if he thinks the makeup is a form of hiding or masking yourself

But once you reassure him, he’ll become more supportive

He might try to help you a few times, but soon gives up

He knows he’d probably screw it up

Zuko may not fully understand the purpose of each makeup item

Which would lead to amusing moments of him asking questions like:

“Why are you putting color on your eyelids?”

As you finish, Zuko genuinely compliments your appearance but may struggle to articulate it, simply saying:

“You look… nice.”

He’s trying his best, though

Make-up isn’t something he is fimiliar with

Despite his stoic exterior, Zuko would secretly appreciate the effort you put into it

If you ask him for feedback, he might nervously respond, “I think you looked beautiful without it anyway, but I like this too.”

Over time, Zuko might become more accustomed to your makeup routine and even surprise you with compliments or small gestures related to it

He would definetly ask Katara for help to understand it a bit better and how he could help you with it

Zuko unintentionally shows his curiosity by observing your makeup routine more closely, trying to understand the nuances of each product

Zuko may surprise you by remembering the names of some makeup items or asking thoughtful questions about your preferences, demonstrating his effort to understand

That would be Katara’s work halfly too as she would teach him what product does what and what it’s called

Over time, he could become more comfortable and might even offer to help you remove your makeup

And that could turn it into a shared, intimate moment between you two

Zuko’s stoic demeanor might soften as he realizes that makeup is a form of self-expression for you

Eventually, he might become your biggest supporter, whether you choose to wear makeup or not

As you apply makeup, Zuko may unintentionally furrow his brows, attempting to understand the transformative process happening before him

There could be a humorous moment where Zuko mistakes a makeup product for something else, leading to a light-hearted exchange as you correct him

He may cautiously touch the finished makeup, wanting to understand the texture and perhaps comparing it to face paint used in Fire Nation traditions

Overall, Zuko’s initial reaction to you trying on makeup for the first time might be a mix of confusion, curiosity, and subtle support

As he observes and learns about the different products and techniques, his perspective evolves, and he begins to appreciate the artistry and self-expression behind makeup

Over time, Zuko becomes more engaged and respectful, recognizing the significance of this aspect of your personal style and embracing it as part of your unique identity

[ace-of-d1am0nds]

The Birds

Was there ever really innocence?

thank you my lovely friend @kastledevils for the gifs<3

Paul is a representation of Louis’ innocence and his obliviousness to Lestat’s (and his own eventual) vampirism. Paul and his birds become a sort of plot device for which Louis can see his own responsibility and how it is clouding his judgment. Paul’s schizophrenia not only leads him to believe he has birds telling him things but it also leads him to the church a place in which Louis denies until after Paul’s death. The death of the birds is a loss of innocence regarding his “devious” and damned tendencies, of which Lestat will immediately strip him of that innocence further by turning him into a vampire.

Lestat says to Claudia after berating her for attempting to turn a number of boys, claiming the reason it didn’t work is because she is too fragile to be successful. The foreshadowing to season 2 is incredibly strong in this scene. I’ll get to that, though. Lestat pointing out Claudia’s physical and emotional immaturity in this scene as a whole is highlighted by the bird metaphor. He is calling her a small, breakable thing and she effectually proves his point. She goes on a killing spree, keeping souvenirs, and eventually running away. Only then does she lose that innocence portrayed by the birds.

Louis baiting birds to their window when he first arrives to Paris is an interesting choice if we choose to follow this metaphor. In his mind, he has already lost his innocence in the act of killing Lestat. This is reflected in his killing and draining of the birds that come to his balcony railing. What is not taken into account in his perspective of his own innocence is the fact that he is feeding the birds. He is bringing life to those he does not kill. He is trying to rebuild an innocence he had lost long ago through finding himself in Paris. He wants his autonomy back, he wants to know who he is outside of Lestat and Claudia, something that Claudia herself encourages. When Armand comes into the picture, this changes and he stops feasting on the birds, at least not in front of Claudia.

In the corner of the painting of Arun/Amadeo/Armand, there are birds in the corner of the image. Armand is describing his tragic and traumatic upbringing and we barely get a glimpse of them flying in the corner. Armand never had an innocence to him. From such a young age he was a servant and a slave, yet there is a sort of innocence to how he describes this time in his life. He says “I served him with all my heart.” This way of thinking is what gets him into the situations we see him in. His childhood is less innocence than it is a naivety. His retrospective look on his childhood and adolescence is with rose tinted glasses as he describes Amadeo’s experience with Marius as a twisted sort of love (I do not condone the actions of Marius de Romanus, I’m only saying Armand believes he was in love with him).

Ok, this is the lynchpin in my whole argument. Baby Lou. Delainey Hayes’ Claudia is all about reclaiming her adulthood now that she isn’t tied to her maker. And yet… The role she is placed in by the Paris coven is that of the young little bird. She tries to learn to escape and fly away again and again but she fails and falls to her death with a crack in the concrete. Her ghost floats above her, the freedom she never got. Over and over again she fights the role until eventually, she runs away with her lover, Madeleine. Claudia, however, was always doomed by the narrative and is roped back to Paris and well, we know how that ends…

[pop-st4rrr]

Marge from my beach au + au info

STOP LIKING MY OLD BEACH AU POSTS THEYRE SO UGLY OMG😭

AU summary so far:

Beach au is based on the episode about Lisa’s birth and them moving that takes place in 1984, but I changed the timeline to the early 2000s to fit my personal aesthetic. The episode is supposed to be summer themed, but there’s nothing summer about it besides Homer and Marge watching the 1984 Olympics that took place that summer. So I therefore decided to create beach au, which is a completely summer themed timeline.

Backstory:

Because their family is about to expand again, Marge thinks it’s time to move houses. After a long discussion, they decide to relocate to the beach to give their child (and future kids) the childhood they didn’t get. As a kid Marge grew up in a strict conservative household, and the beach vacations her family took were her favorite escape. So why not let her vacation last forever, and let her kids experience what she loved most too.

But this presents problems among the family. Both adults have to switch careers if they’re moving states away. Marge is hesitant especially because she’s expecting, and not many jobs will take her work. Homer is worried because, despite both parents being in work, the power plant gave him most of the income. They used all their money on a house by the ocean, so what’s next for them?

⬇️

After borrowing money to pay off the house, Marge gets a job as a waitress, and Homer finds similar technician work nearby. But they’re still adjusting to life at the beach. They don’t really know anyone, and their families are so far away. In the end, they find good friends with similarities to them, even if it takes time.

(All that leads to present day scenarios, where are they now?)

I’ll release more specific parts we wrote eventually lol but this is just my character info and background rn

Marge and homers info:

Marjorie Bouvier is 38 years old, she’s like 5 feet tall and French. (Well half French, her dad’s side). She’s married to Homer, has a son named Bart who is one, and is about to have twins (but she doesn’t know it quite yet).

Job-wise,she works at the mall. Despite being almost 40, she wants to go back to college and discover a career that would support her family better. She’s considering pursuing teaching. She was a model throughout her 20s, but is now retired and hates when people bring it up.

She’s French, (on her dad’s side) and it was the first language she learned until she had to learn English to go to school. She has two sisters and a brother and she’s very close with her brother. Her parents aren’t really part of her life tho.

She has several hobbies, including painting and sewing, but she also has a book club she leads along with principal Skinner and she likes going out bowling with her husband and supports his garage band :3

For Marge’s design I like to make her look very 2000s, since that’s when the flashbacks take place. Her hair down and curly suits the 80s stylization of the episodes, and as a personal preference I make her a little chubby since realistically after having a child she would not look like that, plus we need better representation for plus size people. Ngl I think Marge would be naturally ginger love me or hate me.

Homer Simpson is 36, he’s married to Marge Bouvier and works at the power plant still, although it’s further away now. He’s 6ft tall and has a lot of defining scars from his job at the plant. He’s southern bc he grew up on a farm with his family, and he’s kind of a hippie because that’s the only stuff his mom ever really taught him. He’s autistic (as in canon), and is REALLY into music. He has a garage band with a couple of his friends, and he also used to be famous just like his wife before they got married(barbershop quartet).

Homers backstory isn’t much different than in the show, just like Marge he has a bad relationship with his parents, his mother DID abandon him, as seen in canon. He still talks to his brother somewhat though. Homer definitely tries super hard with baby Bart to give him the childhood he didn’t have.

For homers 2000s design, I still keep it simple, but I added a lot more silly patterns and stuff bc it suits him well. He’d wear lots of graphic/band tees and jeans, also polos with shorts. Marge cuts his hair herself and he has a tattoo on his lower back, matching Marge. He doesn’t like it but got it because she didn’t want to do it alone :3. He also has his triple bypass scar from the season 5 episode.

[flyshy]

Kakashi's Retirement Tour

word count: 400

Synopsis:

after retirement just for shits and giggles Kakashi starts his own prank rampage akin to Naruto's younger days And now you've got one of the most powerful ninja in the village, painting cat ears on the Hokage monument and since Naruto's obviously too busy to deal with this you some random ANBU have to go confront Kakashi of the Sharingan

The wind whistles over the Hokage monument, carrying the faint scent of paint thinner. Kakashi Hatake, the Sixth Hokage (retired), hums a jaunty melody as he dangles from the bridge of Naruto’s stone nose, a brush dripping neon pink paint in one hand. Below him, the village sprawls like a toy set—tiny rooftops dotting the landscape. Its really beautiful he supposes, but there are still some additions to be made.

You, ANBU Hawk, mask firmly in place luckily hides your twitching eye, land on the monument’s brow ridge. “Lord Sixth,” you begin, voice strained with an 'authority' you do not have, “this is a…venerated landmark. The Hokage’s council requests—”

“Former Sixth,” Kakashi corrects cheerfully, not turning around. He flicks his brush, adding a messy tuft of fur to one of the newly painted cat ears. “And really Hawk, you’re telling me this isn’t an improvement?” He gestures to Naruto’s transformed visage—whiskers glowing, ears perked at a sharp angle. “Accuracy matters. If we’re going to immortalize the man, let’s honor the whole legacy. He is literally a fox-boy. …”

You stiffen. “The Hokage’s dignity—”

“—is alive and well, trust me. Can't an old man take up a new hobby?” Kakashi finally turns, his lone visible eye crinkling. “Besides, he’ll laugh. Eventually. Maybe after the paint wears off in, oh…three weeks?”

You glance at the bucket at Kakashi’s feet. The label reads Ultra-Permanent Festival Grade!!! in bubbly letters. A lie, obviously—Kakashi’s new penchant for pranks is always reversible, but only after he’d thoroughly amused himself.

“Please descend, sir,” you say, hand inching toward a paralysis seal. “Or I’ll be forced to—”

“Ah-ah.” Kakashi flick the forehead of your mask. The Sharingan whirls lazily beneath, though it’s unnecessary. You freeze mid-reach, muscles locking not from genjutsu, but sheer instinct. This is the man who trained Team 7. The youngest graduate in history. The only ANBU to be forcefully retired.

“Relax,” he chuckles, pocketing the brush. “I’ll come down. But first—” In a blur, he’s behind you, slapping a sticker onto your ANBU mask. You yelp, scrambling back, but it’s already adhered: a cartoon pug wearing a headband that reads I Survived Kakashi’s Retirement Tour!

As Kakashi vanishes in a swirl of leaves, you stare at the vandalized monument.

The cat ears, you realize, are slightly lopsided.

Well he did say he was learning.

[hoaxriot]

SEVEN DEVILS

pairings. regulus black x fem!reader

summary. you had one task and so did he but neither of you could finish it.

warnings. mention of death, murder, torture, abuse. smut.

notes. this is not a magic story, death eaters are the same but without wands and magic. it’s a long one and I’m very proud of this😭. there’s not an exact timeline on when this takes place bc tbh idk. reader and regulus are not the best people!!!!!!!! pls remember this is fiction. i feel like i kinda lost the plot at the end?? 😭

Kill regulus black. Kill him. Get him alone and kill him.

Those words rung through your head as your stared at him from across the room, holding onto a glass of champagne. It was the blacks annual big party and you had found your way into receiving an invitation, after many tries — this was your only chance.

Regulus Black was a death eater, he was who you hated. You didn’t care why he chose to be it, he was and you were sent to kill him. Looking down at your glass before bringing it to your lips to finish the drink, setting it down on the table next to you.

You had done this before but now you’re heart was beating and your hands were sweating as you stared at the man. You felt eyes on you causing you to turn you head, Sirius Black was looking at you. Licking your lips as you turned your head to look at a painting on the wall.

Jesus, there was no way you could do this tonight. Sirius could act like he didn’t care much for his brother, he watched everyone that came close to him. Regulus also always had two friends by his side that you’ve learned to be Barty Crouch jr. and Evan Rosier. You were not killing him tonight.

You sighed knowing the consequences, walking through the crowd to the front door. You felt someone grab your wrist, tugging it away as you turned around to see regulus black standing in front of you.

You name fell from his pink lips softly, you furrowed your eyebrows as to how he know your name.

“Black.” you replied dryly with a smile.

His lips turned upwards, “leaving so soon? the food hasn’t come out yet.” Regulus spoke gesturing towards the tables scattered across the room.

You looked around, Evan Rosier stared at you. Putting on your best smile as you wiped your hands on your black lady dress. W as you smiled, without a word you walked away.

A man wearing an all black suit opened the large doors for you, sighing as the cool air hit your face walking towards the car across the street.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the man next to you immediately yelled slamming on the seat in front of him as the driver drove away.

Flinching at the loud noise, “I’m sorry, sir. he has a lot of eyes on him.” Your explanation meant nothing to him as he slapped you.

“You never fail to disappoint me.” He spat making you shrink into the seat. For the rest of the drive home, he continued to jab at you, you stayed quiet knowing not to upset him.

He had took you into his home after your parents were killed by death eaters, he taught you everything you know. Kill them and you’ll eventually get the revenge on the right person— in your mind it was right because of how much he said it, it drilled into your head.

The next day, you lived a normal life working at a bakery with a guard across the street watching you. If you were sent to kill someone, you were obviously on someone’s list too.

“Hey, someone’s at the counter.” Savannah, your coworker said as you sat in the small office.

Turning around in the chair, “why can’t you take them?” you said annoyed, you were on your break, “I have to clean the bathroom— unless you want too.”

“No.” you spoke standing up, walking past her and behind the counter.

Regulus stood in front of it with his two goons behind him, “My friends told me about this place, said it was quite good. i’ll take the best thing on the menu.” He voice remained monotone, you wondered if he ever sound excited about anything.

“Of course.” you smiled, what the fuck was he doing here?

“Here.” you said handing him the bag as he handed you the money.

“Hope you enjoy, have a good day.” Speaking sweetly, but deep down you were scared he knew you were sent to kill him.

Regulus stayed as his friends walked away, “may i help you with anything else?”

“Dinner at seven.”

The hell did he just say?

“Sorry?” you heard him but you were way beyond confused.

“Let me take you to dinner, tonight at seven.” Repeating himself, you were about to shut him down and say no before you remembered your assignment.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Where?” You asked putting on your best smile even though you were terrified. Of course you knew who Regulus Black was but never once has he even batted an eye at you.

He chuckled, “write down your address and i’ll pick you up.” you nodded writing it down on your notepad before ripping it off and handed it to him.

“Thank you, I’ll see you at seven.” he winked as he walked away.

After work you went home to get ready realizing you had no idea what to wear, deciding to wear a simple dress.

You got ready and waited for almost an hour, maybe you got ready too early. Looking at your clock reading 7:45.

Sighing as you opened your balcony door, grabbing the cigarettes on the small table and lighting one. You watched the streets hoping for him to show, you groaned to yourself realizing you were waiting for him, not waiting to kill him.

A black car pulled in front of your home, regulus came out from it. You took one last hit from your cigarette before putting it out, walking back into your house and spraying perfume on as he knocked on your door. Running your hands on your dress to smooth it out, opening the door to see him dressed so nice compared to you but that’s just how he dressed all the time, dressed like he was going to a formal.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke as he looked you up and down.

Smiling tightly, “you’re late.” he laughed under his breath.

“I got lost. you live in a weird place.” he smiled, holding his arm out for you to take. You stared at it for a few seconds before intertwining your arm with his as you shut your door.

The walk to the car was quiet, the car ride was quiet you got antsy. Regulus noticed placing his hand on top of yours, you looked at him, he smiled at you. Regulus Black actually smiled at you— you almost forgot you were meant to kill him tonight. An awkward smile came to your face as as you turned to look at the window.

The car came to a stop, regulus stepped out and walked around the car to open your door. again, he put his arm for you to take it. “I’ll be around the block, Mr.Black.” The driver said before he pulled off.

The two of you walked into the restaurant, straight to the back into a secluded corner. The place was nice, too nice for you that you felt out of place. Regulus pulled the chair out for you, once he did he sat down in front of you.

Regulus started conversation, it went smoother than you thought it would. The two of you laughed throughout the dinner, even as the food was brought.

“You interest me.” He said, your name spilling from his lips.

You laughed lightly taking a sip from you glass, “why’s that, Black?” you questioned with a smile.

Regulus shrugged, “I feel like you have a lot behind your name. Your story. No one knows about it.” He spoke softly but questionably like he quite didn’t know what he was saying.

“They don’t,” you said with a smile. “Only—“ you said before clearing your throat cutting yourself off.

Regulus furrowed his eyebrows leaning back into his seat, “only?” he said with a questioning tone. His eyebrows raised quickly.

“Nobody. i don’t have anybody to know my story.” You said looking down at the table, only one person did but if you said that name regulus would probably take the knife sitting in front of him and put it in your chest.

“Hm. why?” Regulus asked leaning forward, he seemed genuine. you looked at him, his eyes showed interest.

You signed downing the rest of your wine, “i only had my parents, never had any friends. they died two years ago in a car accident,” death eaters tortured your mom as your dad was forced to watch, tortured her until she could no longer take it, then simply killing your dad but watching your mother go through that had already killed him. “Then my uncle took me in.” Liam Williams took you in, his daughter was killed by death eaters so he had found people who went through the same thing and found revenge.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry,” you laughed. “That was deep.” You spoke with a tight smile.

“No it’s okay. I’m very sorry for your loss, i couldn’t imagine.” he wouldn’t give a shit if his parents died, he would be free.

Regulus stood up, instead of his arm he put his hand out. “don’t you have to pay?” You asked causing him to chuckle.

“My dad knows the owner, they don’t like us to pay.” He explained, you felt bad not paying but took his hand. the car was waiting for you two outside the place.

After getting into the car, you realized you enjoyed regulus blacks company, he made you feel heard. “I kind of don’t want the night to end.” You said softly, you wanted him to hear you but at the same time you didn’t.

Regulus turned to you as you stared at the seat in front of you, “me either,” you made him feel wanted, he hadn’t felt that in so long. “Why don’t you come back to my place?” he suggested.

“I’m not sleeping with you.” You stated making him laugh. “Just to hang out, but you also never know.” He said, turning your head to look at him, he had a teasing look on his face making you laugh, agreeing to come home with him.

The car pulled into his long driveway, you knew the blacks were rich but hell, his house was huge. Regulus’ hand held onto yours as you walked to his front door.

As soon as the door shut, he shoved you against the door and his lips were on yours. You froze until his hands squeezed your hips, your hands came to his neck pulling him closer to you as you finally kissed back ignoring everything you said ten minutes before. One of his hands came to hold yours face.

Regulus pulled away, “jump.” He breathed out against your lips. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held onto you. Regulus walked through his house, you put your head into his neck kissing it, feeling him harden and his quiet groans in your ear.

Once he made it to his room, he set you down and immediately started kissing you again. You opened your lips as his tounge explored you, you began to undress him of his coat throwing it onto the floor. One of his hands drew the straps of your dress down, not wearing a bra your boobs fell out once he continued to slide the dress down. Regulus took his shirt off, guiding you to lie down.

He kneeled down kissing right above your underwear, whimpering as he made his way up taking one of your tits into his mouth.

“Reg..” you whispered grabbing a handful of his locks, “yeah,baby?” He said looking up with low eyes.

“I need you,” you said hungrily, Regulus hummed dragging his fingers from your chest. His fingers slide into your underwear, feeling your wetness he groaned. you squinted under his touch, his fingers rubbed circles on your clit.

You moaned feeling him slide his finger through your folds, “god, you’re so beautiful.” Regulus breathed out as he looked down watching his fingers pump in and out of you, he kissed your chest. He curled his fingers making your arch back as you pulled on his locks, Regulus tilted his back to watch you, your eyes closed with your mouth opened, filthy noises coming out of it as you breathed heavily.

You hadn’t had sex in almost a year, you were already closing feel the build in your stomach. He knew the way you clenched around his fingers and your fingers tightening on his hair.

“Cum for me, love.” He whispered kissing your neck, chest, and face, no doubt leaving marks. “Fuck, regulus.” Moaning loudly as his fingers worked fast, his thumb rubbing all the right places. The tension in your stomach snapped as your orgasm hit you, coming on his fingers.

Your chest fell up and down as he rode your orgasm out, you whimpered as he pulled his fingers out grabbing his face. You smashed your lips onto his, grabbing him. The kiss was messy and full of want. As he kissed you, you pulled your underwear down as he tried to work on his pants without breaking away from you.

He struggled making you laugh, he started to with you as he pulled away to stand up. He unbuckled his pants pulling them down with his boxers, you didn’t have time to be shocked at his size as he hovered over you. He lined up to you, the two of you stared at each other with heavy breaths.

“Regulus?” You questioned the look in his eyes, “We don’t have to do this.”

“What? No, I want this. I- I just haven’t done it in a long time.” He confessed, you smiled, “me either.” The two of you let out a breathy laugh.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against you making you gasp lightly, he began to slowly push himself into you making you both moan. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, “Fuck.” He groaned out.

You held your breath getting used to his size, “You feel so good, Reg.” You whispered holding the side of his neck, he moaned at your words.

“I know, you feel so fucking good, so tight.” He groaned kissing and sucking on your neck. “Can I move?” He asked rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“Please.” That all, he pulled out then pushed back in hard but slow making you moan out loudly. He kept the same rhythm, his hand that held your face slowly slid down to your neck testing the waters. Regulus watched you, you looked into his eyes as you moved his hand to where he was choking you with the right amount of pressure.

Regulus smirked as he adjusted himself, the new position made you moan. Regulus had been matching your noises and you loved it, it made you approach your orgasm quicker.

You clenched around him, “oh, fuck.” Regulus whimpered as he fell into your neck again.

“I’m close, fuck. Reg. Keep going, just like that.” You moaned out scratching his back with your nails.

“Yeah? Cum for me again, baby.” He spoke as his fingers found your clit again rubbing it, your nails dug into his skin making him groan.

The band in you snapped, your legs shook around him as his rhythm got messier. “Fucking hell,” your name fell from his lips like you were a goddess. “Ah, fuck.” You felt him twitch in you making you moan, “Reg, I’m gonna cum again. You’re so good.” Your words set him off, his moans and groans in your ear set you off.

After a few seconds, Regulus pulled out and he laid down besides you bringing the sheets to cover the both of you. The two of you laid there, fucked out and ended up falling asleep in each others arms.

You woke by the sun beaming into your eyes through his large windows, you hummed lightly. You felt arms snaked around your waist, looking down your eyes widened.

The god forbidden mark engraved into his skin, reminding you of everything bad that happened to you in your life. You felt ashamed that you had slept with him, but he treated you so well.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

You threw his arms off of you, not caring if it woke him up. Grabbing your dress to slip it on, you heard him whisper your name groggily rubbing his eyes as he sat up in his bed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whispered looking around for your heels, seeing you so distressed made him confused.

Regulus stood up, putting his boxers on, “What’s wrong?” He questioned, taking a step forward as you took two back.

“You. You’re what’s wrong.” You pointed to his arm, he didn’t have to look to know. “Jesus,” you muttered slamming his door open and walking down his stairs.

Ignoring the calls of your name, you open his front door. “Oh my god, oh my god.” You pull out your phone, pressing on Liam’s contact.

“Liam. Pick me up, please.” You said into the phone through breaths once you realized he answered.

You heard a breath through the line, “Liam’s not gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.” A dark voice said making you gasp, stuttering over your words you heard a crunch behind you. Turning around, Regulus stood there.

“Bring her to my dad.” He said shakily, you shook your head as two people came beside you. “No!” You yelled as you elbowed one of them in the face, then punching the other one. You looked at Regulus before running, you didn’t make it past his mailbox before you ran into someone.

Orion Black stood in front of you, he smirked bring a cloth to your nose. The world faded away from you within seconds, you felt like you were meeting death.

You woke up groggily, you felt glued to the floor, the cold dirty floor. You swore you heard your name being said but still couldn’t come to open your eyes.

Kill her. Get her alone and kill her.

Those words rung through Regulus Blacks mind as he stared at your body that was covered in dirt and blood. His fist clenched against his sides, you were Regulus’ mission— you killed many death eaters alongside Liam Willams and many other. Yet, when he got to know you he couldn’t kill you. His mom slapped him and called him stupid

‘You’ve only known her for two days.’ She spat at in his face, now he watched you try to come to your senses.

“Black, step away from her.” Williams spoke from behind him, like he gave a shit. He looked over his shoulder to glare at the man.

“Regulus?” Your hoarse voice got him to look back, “please, I don’t wanna die.” You whispered, you were sore everywhere and couldn’t move.

Regulus tilted his head to the side, “yeah? But you wanted to kill me? You’ve killed a lot of people.” His words spat at you like venom, puncturing every part of you. Never once did you think this day would come.

“You people, sick people killed my parents. Killed innocent people.” Anger boiled in your body somehow giving you energy to sit up, now face to face with Regulus.

“What’s the difference between them killing your parents then you killing more than that. This sick man behind me, has manipulated you into thinking this is—“

A loud slam cut his sentence off, “Step away from her, Regulus.” His father said, he immediately straightened his back and stood by his father.

“Sweetheart, do you know the punishment for killing all those people?” Orion smiled mimicking his son’s actions before, leaning down to look at you. You felt small under his gaze.

He cocked his head to the side as you avoided his eye contact. “Hm? We make you feel the pain of every single person you killed, that’s a lot, right?” Orion smirked, “Y’know, I kinda wished we found you first. You’re a good one.” You felt like puking as the man spoke.

Next thing you know, three men and one woman walks into the room with smirks on their faces. You look to Liam for answers, he just stares back to you making you open your mouth in shock— he promised to protect you from this.

“These three are family members of who you’ve killed, so they’ll be here to enjoy the show— while also joining. “ Orion makes a noise, “but the star of the show— my dear son. Regulus. I’m so proud you, son. You’ve made me and your mom so proud. Tom will be thrilled to hear you caught her.” Orion grabbed Regulus face who flinched, you now realized this was some sick family shit.

Regulus turned to look at you over his shoulder, you had tears flowing down your stained cheeks. Tears prickled his own eyes, he finally found someone he felt like he could know and grow to even like. He also had never fucking killed someone, he just was handed simple missions.

“Please, no.” You begged, a woman with curly hair came to you, she grabbed your face making you whimper. “Shut up, girl. You will suffer the consequences of your actions!” She shouted in your face, you desperately tried to pull away from her face as her nails dug into your skin.

She finally pulled away, you breathed out in relief but quickly gasped again seeing Regulus stand behind her with something in his hand. “Only on one condition will I kill her, father.” He said staring into your eyes, you pleaded quietly.

“It’s just me, I’ll allow you but I don’t want them here.” He smiled at you causing you to furrow your eyebrows,

“Reg—“

“Father, I will not do it.”

Liam chuckled from the corner, “Shut up. You three out.” Regulus smirked, handing you the metal bar in his hand. You took it with the handcuffs around your wrists, your hands shaked.

‘Do it.’ He mouthed to you, shaking your head with tears. A sob escaped your lips, from behind Regulus it seemed normal.

“Fucking hell, just do it!” Liam yelled catching Orion’s attention, you squeezed your eyes shut slamming the bar against Regulus’ ankles, he groaned falling to the ground.

Orion looked at you, he had no weapon but you were locked to the wall. He walked towards you, as soon as he got in arms length you smashed the bar against his head, he fell to the ground with a loud groan. Regulus dug into his father’s pockets grabbing the keys, tossing them to you.

Your heart beat quickened as you struggled to put the key into the hole because your hands were so shaky. You gasped out once you heard the click and the freeing feeling around your wrists.

“Run.” Regulus spoke, you looked at him as he stared at his father, confused on what to do.

You crawled to him, “Regulus, please. We can go.” You whispered, “You don’t have to do this, we can live.”

“We won’t get out of here alive.” Those words made your stomach drop, “I’ve done the unthinkable, you are wanted by every death eater. Even if we do, we won’t be alive for long.” Regulus looked at you through his eyelashes, tears brimmed his eye-line, like he didn’t want them to fall.

“I’m tired of fighting this,” he whispered causing you lips to frown. “Everyday is a battle and in the end I know I won’t end so just go, I’ll give you time to run.” Regulus was doing a lot for you even after the two of you were sent to kill each other.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. Sirius Black and his friends stood in the frame. The older black brother pointed a knife at you, “Get the fuck away from my brother.”

You immediately fell back, he stormed towards you grabbing your shoulders pulling you up and pushing you up against the wall, feeling the knife against your throat making you gasp.

“Sirius—“

“You think you can get away? You tried to kill my brother.” You whimpered as he pushed the knife harder against your throat.

“I-i know, I’m sorry, sorry. I just- fuck, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do anything, just please don’t kill me. I ha-haven’t lived! Oh my, I really don’t wanna die.” You begged, you knew you sounded stupid but you did not want to die.

Sirius looked at you questionably as you squeezed your eyes shut, he slowly let the knife fall from your neck, you let out a breath without realizing you held your breath the whole time.

You saw Liam move from the corner of your eye, you wanted to kill him. He hadn’t done one thing to protect you like he’d sworn, “C’mon, little one. Come get me out of these things.” He spoke catching everyone’s attention, you scoffed.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” You spat, Sirius cleared his throat.

“We don’t have time for this, we gotta leave.” He spoke, everyone nodded, Regulus didn’t. He continued to stare down at his father, you had taken away someone just like someone had done to you.

Sirius knelt down whispering to his brother, you stared at the other people. You probably looked insane, a dress that had ripped up, makeup messed up, and hair crazy. You also had bruises covering your body, blood smothered everywhere.

“Lets go—“

“Woah! What about me?!” Liam yelled, you stopped dropping the keys onto the floor— too far for him to reach as you followed the group out of the house, everyone stopped once they reached outside.

You shivered at the cool air, “Can I go home?” You said shakily causing everyone turn to you, some of them with hatred and some with pity.

“Yeah, just don’t let me catch you anywhere near us.” Sirius spoke, you nodded, he actually scared you. You looked at Regulus who was already staring at you, you smiled before you turned around and began walking.

Silent tears began to fall, there was a long road but you didn’t care. Everything was numb, you couldn’t fell the concrete on your bare feet. You wished Sirius had killed you or Regulus killed you the first time he’d saw you. There was nothing to live for anymore.

[luffyvace]

HEYYYY!! how are you?? i hope you’re doing well ❤️❤️

i was wondering if you could do a headcanon/story where reader is like the daughter of Dracule Mihawk but like she(or gender neutral) never met her mom, so when she was growing up Boa Hancock was like their cool auntie that she learned how to be a woman (doing makeup,painting nails, finding her style ect.)

ONLY IF YOU ARE COMFORTABLE THO, BTW I LOVEE YOUR WRITING 💕💕

HIII IM DOING GOOD ANON!! You dear? :)

i do female reader dw!! I’ll be using she/her as well, for reference

Awhh dadhawk <33

AUNTBOAAUNTBOAAUNTBOAAA!! She’d be the BEST most SPOILING wine aunt EVER🍷💄

Of course it’s alright honey! Alsooo TYSM!! I’m so glad you enjoy 😭💓💓

Being mihawk’s daughter has a lot of perks and literally no down slides. actually I half way take that back. The only down slide is that there’s a target on your head for those who are crazy enough to come for you. But that’s like a mere 00.1% and even then just because they come for you doesn’t mean they’ll get to you 🤡

especially since your the NUMBER ONE swordsman’s daughter.

Also this is really random but you probably meet zoro eventually, perona as well, they obviously stay with you for some time so perona and you likely get close. I imagine you would introduce her to boa and the three of you become a trio. You and Perona are her adorable nieces and boa is your doting, beautiful and totally awesome auntie :3

don’t get me wrong mihawk is a awesome father. He seems like a very responsible man and that he would not leave you out in the cold at the cost of his own life. He spoils you just as equally as boa does and although he’s not the most trusting man on earth, he wouldn’t dare break the bond you two have when he can’t replace it with your actual mother. At this point not that you wanted to.

Never meeting your mom may have taken a toll on your mental health at first, but not to worry! Awesome aunt boa to the rescue!!

The chances of you meeting boa we’re actually very slim, whether you know it or not. As I said Mihawk doesn’t easily trust plus you probably met at a warlord meeting where he has to take you along for one reason or another.

You saw boa and naturally, thought she was very pretty. Mihawk is rather reserved too so you probably don’t see people often in general (til you get older). Therefore, seeing such a ethereal woman made you instantly admire her. You immediately wanted to get to know her—and, luckily for you, she took an interest in the girl who’s mihawk’s daughter!

now idk what you did but she started the conversation, and whatever you replied made her think you weren’t so bad! You two chatted some more and after figuring out you had no mother figure she took it upon herself to raise a cute girl such as yourself to be a good woman. She didn’t exactly want to be viewed as your mother..that would relate her too closely to mihawk, a man, for her liking. So! She’ll be the cool and classy wine aunt instead! 🍷💋

you love your dad, he does his best to raise you as a single father and pirate/warlord/worlds best swordsman. And you truly do appreciate him! But when Boa bashes him for being a man her insults are low key so funny you can’t help but laugh 🗿 (hc that Boa would be good at roasting people on the spot :3)

boa being the coolest aunt she is, she takes you to lavish places (that she rented so she wouldn’t have to bear being in the presence of those indisputable critters society calls men), gets you the most high quality makeup (that her tribe handcrafts—yes they make they’re own it’s a hc of mine), does monthly over the phone (in person when you can) mental check ins (because you love your dad but again, he’s a man, and there’s some things about women men won’t get—vice versa too of course <3)

womanly hour!~ well more like hours, you spend the whole day with boa whenever you can, she’s makes a magnificent aunt and literally never says no to you. She’s like to you how she is to luffy but less delusional platonic <3 you two go shopping and pick out clothes together, her tribe of course also gifts you all the cute clothes you could ever want (again, handcrafted) because boa adores you and they adore boa!—which means they adore you! 💕 You and the Kuja 100% get along and see eye to eye on how spectacular Hancock-Sama is~ 🥰

when your older you probably go over to visit her more often and maybe even on your own! Mihawk trusts that by then he’s trained you enough, plus i think he would have his certain set of rules but not be too strict of a dad.

teaching you how to be a proper woman with Boa 101 ;} only if you want to tho! She’ll ensure your not out here acting like some monkey—surely your not! (unless you are 🤷‍♀️) Still, she teaches you basic lady manners. :) More than anything she knows women is NOT the problem, so instead of going “keep your legs closed ☝️🤓” she says “If a man looks at you lower than your stomach, kick him in that area 😉😘” - Boa Hancock (the woman we trust💪)

AND you already know she’s gonna teach you how to kick as hard a she can 😤😮‍💨👌 which ngl by the time your older your sure to be a master in many Haki’s. You may even have conquer’s 🤷‍♀️ I wouldn’t doubt it you got Mihawk blood in you :P

Growing up Boa has constantly been warning you of men and they’re vile ways. When you become of age she’ll tell you what happened to her (that’s how much she trusts you 💗💗) and you’ll know what she means right away. She will always look out for you but gives you tips on things just in case, and if you ever feel unsafe, don’t hesitate to call her or take a trip to the island of women! The entirety of the Kuja tribe will lay down they’re lives in an instant for Hancock-sama’s lovable little niece <33

I’ve been mentioning this throughout but her taking you to the island of women definitely happens. You love it there and everyone loves you. You have so many Aunts and sisters there it’s not even funny. 😃 You adore each and everyone of them though, just as they do you. You get only the finest of treatment from them and you might as well be one of the Boa sisters. You get all you can eat premium food, the most elegant clothes tailored to your exact size and tastes, you even have your very OWN room in the Palace! Sandersonia and Marigold dote on you just as much as Hancock does the four of you very much do spend a lot of time together. 😊

The Boa sisters/the Kuja tribe teaches you the kuja tribe/survival skills personally. They start with bow and arrow and eventually moving on to haki and hand to hand combat. Now, Mihawk might have already covered this but they’re going over it again 😄 why? He might’ve missed something! He’s a man! (Btw the Kuja girls 100% ask you questions about men no holding back) Anywho, I’m sure you’d do it again even if you know it already because 1) practice 😋 and 2) who wouldn’t want to spend more time with the Kuja pirates?!

💖💖

These girls are seriously awesome 💓 (this low key became a Mihawk diss track written by Hancock but he’ll live- LOL 😂😂🗿)

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ D.W. (part 9)

A/n: Been ages huh? I always come back to this series eventually I love it too much. So here’s another installment after ages. I suppose I’ll never be free of it lol. Hope y’all enjoy!!

MASTERLIST

When the TARDIS lurched under their feet, Y/n knew something was wrong. Then it sputtered and Rose caught herself on the railing and the trio all exchanged looks. “What’s this then?” Rose bit. She had been trying extra hard recently to keep things cheery. It had been rough on Y/n, which had been rough on the Doctor, so she had to give more effort than usual to draw them into bantering with her.

Well, maybe Y/n.

The Doctor had a knack for bouncing back.

It showed now as they finally parked and he shrugged, slinging his arm over her shoulders as they all slipped out of the door, Y/n leading them. “I don’t know. It’s like she didn’t want to land. Like she’s having a hard time…”

“Like this place makes her sick,” Y/n offered in more clarification. He felt it on the edges of himself. Something roiling just under the surface. It reminded him that they were connected and that made him anxious. Or maybe she was anxious and he was just feeling it. It seemed the longer he was part of this journeying the stronger the link between them got and the harder it was to distinguish what was him, what was Doctor, and what was TARDIS.

Rose raised an eyebrow, looking over at Y/n. “Well if it’s going to be trouble we can always just… pop back in. Head out.” Her tone lilted with humor and Y/n found himself smiling even before the other two burst out laughing.

“I think… we’re in a cupboard. Come on.” And off they went. They wandered, doors opening and closing, announcing themselves every time. The Doctor went on about humanity and their bases and the things they were made for and it was like every other time. Y/n had long since learned when to engage and when it was okay to space out. Keeping present was growing more and more difficult so he tried not to pull himself.

Perhaps that’s why he so quickly saw the writing on the wall when they entered the new room. “Welcome to Hell,” Rose echoed and the Doctor teased her about it but she laughed and pointed it out. And then suddenly the Doctor was frowning just like Y/n was.

On the wall was spray painted the phrase Rose had read aloud. But underneath there were symbols. Definitely a language, but not one that was translated for them. Not one they could automatically understand.

“Well that’s not right,” Y/n mumbled.

“What does it say?” Rose asked.

The Doctor shot forward to get a closer look and Rose followed but Y/n stayed back. That queasy feeling had grown the closer they’d gotten to this room and Y/n was not a fan. “I don’t know - it won’t translate.” He sounded as disturbed by that as Y/n felt.

Rose looked between the writing and the Doctor. “But I thought the TARDIS translated everything, writing as well.” They both looked back to where Y/n was standing and it shocked him to realize they were looking to him for answers on what was going on with the TARDIS. It made sense but it was more pressure than he liked. Is this how the Doctor always felt?

“It feels… wrong.” He shrugged and the Doctor’s eyebrows furrowed even more.

“Well it’s old for sure,” the Doctor tried. “Very old. Impossibly old.” He stood and began to open the next door. “We should find who’s in charge. If we’ve gone beyond the reach of the TARDIS that’s never good news.” The door began to open and Y/n took a step after them but froze with shock at the mass of figures on the other side of it.

The Doctor and Rose weren’t so lucky. They almost rammed into the creatures and screamed in shock. The Doctor began to babble and charm like he always did, immediately trying to get a way in so he could take control and get the information he needed. His banter was ignored.

“We must feed,” the creatures said in unison. Little lamps they all held light up when their voices echoed and with them having no visible mouth Y/n distantly wondered if the little lamps were maybe somehow also the source of the voices. The creatures had tentacles where lips should be and a tube coming out from between them attaching to the little light. Y/n took a step back.

“We must feed,” echoed the words from the hoard beyond the door.

“You’ve got to what?” The Doctor asked, immediately off put by the lack of a response to anything he’d said.

“We must feed,” the creatures echoed again.

“Yeah I think they mean us,” Rose snapped and yanked the Doctor back as the Ood pushed through the doorway and into the room. The pair ran right into Y/n who spun with them to run and found the door on the other side of the room had opened at one point as well and more Ood were coming from there as well. When had it opened?

“We must feed,” echoed over and over, overlapping and disconnecting so it wasn’t in sync anymore. The Ood approached closed and closed and closed until the trio was backed against the wall. The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver, Rose grabbed a chair and Y/n put himself in front of them for safety. And then…

Suddenly they all stopped. “We must feed,” said the one in the very front. Then he looked down at the little light he was carrying and shook it until it flickered and then hit it once. “You. If you are hungry.” His eyes crinkled in what Y/n knew was an attempt at a smile.

The Doctor was the first to switch back into a friendly mode. “Sorry?” He asked gently.

“We apologize,” the Ood began again. “Electromagnetics have interfered with speech systems. Would you like some refreshment?” Rose slowly put the chair down and Y/n relaxed. The Doctor grabbed his hand to ground him. He’d gotten a lot more affectionate with small stuff like that. Little things to help keep Y/n here with them instead of spacing out again.

As they tried to come up with a response another door opened, this one announcing itself properly like the others had. “What the hell?” A man was on the other side. He wore a gray shirt, black leather jacket and dog tags. Behind him was a black haired man and a black woman, both with guns. The trio approached those they were clearly stunned to see on their ship. He raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke into it. “Captain-“

Something distant echoed in Y/n’s mind. Something hollow and echoing. Something ancient. It was an ache in Y/n’s bones, a breath on the back of his neck that made the hairs on his arms stand up. A chill across his spine.

Something was watching them.

There was an alarm, he registered distantly. They were rushing off to meet the captain and everything was shaking and they were holding on for dear life and as his vision blurred he swore he saw something.

Someone.

The eyes were clearest. Y/n couldn’t look away from them. Black pits of eternal darkness one could fall into and never hit the floor. Heat licked across his skin, he was sure of it. He was burning. Someone was screaming. There was blonde cropped hair and a sickening smile and hands reaching out. Black veins on white skin and those symbols…. Everywhere. Not smeared with wear and tear like the paint on the wall. No this was a tattoo. A brand. Y/n looked down at his hands and saw it like up when his fingers pressed together.

A hand in his. He looked over to see Rose this time. Her eyes were on the group in the room. Introductions, names he couldn’t keep on his head. Except… Toby. He wondered why.

His eyes flickered back to his hands. There was nothing there.

He looked up and tried to play it cool. He couldn’t melt down in front of all these strangers. They didn’t seem particularly keen on three strangers showing up out of nowhere and they didn’t need to push their luck. He thanked Rose for her attention to him, and especially to the way she played it off now and didn’t look at him. Kept her comfort private so no one else had to gawk at whatever episode Y/n seemed to be having more and more of.

The names stopped as the woman introducing everyone pulled a lever to reveal where they were and what was going on outside with the storm. “This,” she said as the roof above them began to open. “This is home.”

“Careful,” the captain said from his seat. “The sight of it has driven some people mad.”

Y/n wasn’t too worried. They’d either seen something equivalent or much worse.

He should have maybe been a bit more worried than he was.

When the roof opened enough to actually see they all shot to their feet, eyes wide and lips parted. The thing in front of them… “That’s a black hole,” Rose offered.

“Impossible,” the Doctor breathed. But it was possible. Ida, the woman who had introduced everyone before, met the Doctor’s doubt with hard truth and undeniable fact. They could see it for themselves. There was a black hole and here they were. In orbit around it. Suspended just fine, safe, as stars and planets - whole solar systems - were pulled into the hole and demolished. That was the storm. The desolation of every corner of eternity this black hole could reach as it was all swallowed into oblivion, ramming into an impossible ship kept in place.

A complete breaking of physics. Even the Doctor was stunned.

He kept asking though. Kept getting all the details, every single one, and Rose learned about the Ood.

It was then that Y/n realized he already knew the name of the creatures. When had he started calling them that? When had he simply known what they were called? Was this a new ability? Seeing the past and the future, and now the present as well? Simply knowing things all throughout time?

It could be worse.

Y/n smiled as the Doctor got excited about humans and their gumption and curiosity and borderline stupidity. It was a reminder to himself as well. That not everything was bad. That there was still hope as long as humanity was horribly curious, a little brave, and quite stupid.

As the Doctor was telling them to leave, Ida made a comment that stopped Y/n cold though. “Look who’s talking. How did you get here then?” The Doctor began to ramble about the TARDIS, knowing he couldn’t really explain it, and where they’d parked. How it tended to simply appear places.

Then the captain - Zack - said something that made Y/n realize why the others had gone from suddenly. “In storage six?” Storage six. The Doctor and Y/n realized it at the same time. Earlier Zack had made a comment about how the Earthquake during the storm had taken some of the base out. Strange five through eight.

The Doctor was running but Y/n found himself still. Staying behind. That fear wasn’t there, the emptiness hadn’t settled. He didn’t even have time to wonder if it was shock before the Doctor was back and looking at Y/n. “What is it?” He asked.

Y/n pursed his lips. “I don’t know. It’s like last time. Like I still feel that connection, that draw. She wasn’t dead last time and I… I don’t think she’s gone this time either.” He shrugged. “I know it sounds silly-“

“It’s not silly, it’s impossible,” Zack said flatly. “We don’t have the extra resources to find your ship.”

“It’s fallen to the center - right where you’re already going,” the Doctor tried.

“Not entirely. It’s just off and we can’t afford that. No extra resources, Doctor. Nothing. No exceptions.”

It wasn’t crushing like last time. There was peace to it. Y/n had leaned back against the control panel and now the Doctor joined him, their shoulders touching. The contact was enough. Potentially losing the TARDIS in the other dimension had been world ending but that weight just wasn’t there. The Doctor looked at Y/n with a sort of desperation and it was clear. Perhaps he had lost the TARDIS, but they’d already discussed this once. They didn’t have to again. He had Y/n. Maybe that could be enough.

“I’ve trapped you here.” The Doctor looked at Rose with apology. Maybe he wasn’t spiraling but he still had other things to worry about. Other ways to torture himself.

“Don’t worry so much,” Rose dismissed immediately. “Y/n said-“

“Y/n’s abilities are sometimes even beyond my own,” the Doctor agreed. “But we can’t always depend on that. If something goes wrong… all this means is that the TARDIS isn’t dead. There are other ways to lose people.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We may never get you back to your mother again.”

Immediately Rose shook her head. “We’ll be fine.” The building shook and she leaned into the Doctor. He wrapped his arms around her as Y/n’s cheek pressed to the Doctor’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine,” she whispered again. It was a lot to process but she was handling it a little better with a little bit of home with her. Y/n supposed he made things like this easier for both of them. A sudden pressure to never let anything happen to himself settled on him more than he’d realized before.

Oh boy.

They took a minute and then headed to the mess hall to get some food. The Doctor and Rose went to get food, Rose offering to get Y/n something as well. He nodded, realizing she had seen the headache he was feeling coming on. He sat and waited for the others as images began to press into his mind. Red eyes this time. Lips parted in a scream. A blue box falling into darkness. Orange skin… plastic? A hazmat suit maybe?

“Are you okay?” Rose set a test down in front of him and he took it with a weak smile.

“It’s that thing I do. But… I don’t know.”

“Seeing the past?” The Doctor asked.

Y/n swallowed. “Seeing the future.” The Doctor’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything. “It really only manifested as moments the last times it happened. Nothing significant. Sometimes not even something I can make sense of. But this - it’s not even like that. It was always my personal future. Tiny glimpses.” He smiled softly but it crumbled quickly. “This is something darker. I don’t know - it’s like something is trying to get to me. Reaching out. And the closer it gets the more I see something happening seconds ahead of me. Maybe something happening right now, or right now, or now.” He sighed.

Rose rested her cheek on his shoulder. “We’re a long way from home.”

Y/n managed a smile at that. “Oh it’s not too far. What would you say Doctor, 500 years or so?”

The Doctor paused and Y/n registered that calculating expression. The careful placement of his features and the thin line his lips had pressed into. It was a look Y/n knew but had never seen before. The look of someone who was walking a cliff edge. The Doctor didn’t like soldiers, he never had. People who carry guns and get angry and fight fire with fire. Sure they were dangerous and made matters worse more often than not. But… they also remind the Doctor of himself. He needs companions that ground him and pull him from that precipice that threatens to pull him under constantly.

Could Y/n be that for him anymore?

It was a terrifying thought.

And a daunting task.

Y/n looked away as Ida spoke up and opened the roof to show them something. A red streak moving through the sky. What used to be the Scarlet System, getting devoured. It made Rose homesick. She checked her phone and sighed.

“No signal.” She tried to smile and fell short. “We’ve never been out of the TARDIS’ reach before. But, I suppose even if I could. What would I even say to her?” She looked at Y/n as if he could have an answer and got a shrug in response.

“No one knows what would satiate Jackie Tyler. She makes up her own mind about that sort of thing.”

That actually got Rose to smile. “You can’t build another TARDIS can you? Two geniuses like yourselves.”

The Doctor paused, eyes on Y/n. “They weren’t built. They were grown. And with my home planet gone… we’re kind of stuck.”

Rose reached over, taking Y/n’s hand. He rested his cheek on top of her head. “Could be worse,” she tried. “This lot said they’d give us a lift.”

“And then what?” The Doctor was still looking at Y/n when he asked it but his eyes slowly drifted to Rose and stayed there.

She looked back, frowning. “I don’t know. Find a planet. Get a job. Live your life the same as the rest of the universe.”

“The long way around,” Y/n mused.

“I’d have to settle down,” the Doctor pouted. “Get a house or something. A proper house with-“ he stuttered over words for a second. “Doors and things. Carpets. Me, living in a house! Now that… that…” he struggled again and Y/n reached across to take his hand with the one he had free. The Doctor relaxed and eased.

“We can do it together. Figure out how to live something mundane and normal after… all we’ve seen together.” He scoffed and the Doctor and Rose actually laughed.

Rose lifted her head. “Oh god you and I, getting married one day? What do you say?”

Y/n barely contained a grin. “Well I suppose.” His eyes flickered over to the Doctor who suddenly seemed nervous. “Jackie will kill us for getting married without her.” They both laughed.

“Oh, Jackie,” the Doctor sighed. “I promised her I’d always bring you back home.”

Rose raised a hand to fiddle with her earring, eyeing the black hole but not really seeing it. It was just something to look at. “Everyone leaves home in the end.”

The Doctor grew a little more sober. “Not to end up stuck here.”

“Stuck here with you two,” Rose shot back. “That’s not so bad.” She squeezed Y/n’s hand, reaching over with her free hand to take the Doctor’s other as well. She must have squeezed his hand as well because he squeezed Y/n’s and that made him smile.

The Doctor pulled Y/n’s hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the knuckles. “Marriage. Scary.” Y/n blushed at the implication of this conversation. The fact that they were having it at all. The Do toe seemed so okay with it all. He had been running his entire life… could he stop? Was he even capable of it?

Rose’s phone rang and the trio looked at it at the same time, confusion taking over all their expressions. She raised the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Nearly the second she said it her face went blank and she chuckled the phone to get it away from her. Y/n and the Doctor both tensed and she turned them with urgency in her eyes. “We need to discuss something. Y/n’s visions - they’re not the in out weird thing. The Ood keep saying weird things, and my call just now- He is awake. That’s what it said.”

The Doctor suddenly got very serious. “Y/n I need to hear every detail of your visions that you can remember. Every single one.”

He told him. Told him about the eyes and the blackness and the red ones too. The inky symbols on his skin and the voice and the breath on the back of his neck. After Rose mentioned the Ood said something in the cafeteria earlier they were on the move.

They asked about the Ood and found there was a telepathic field they all communicated through because they were empathic. Y/n couldn’t focus. That queasy feeling hadn’t ever really left but he had gotten used to it. But now it was getting worse again, pressing against the back of his throat. Words were fading out and he gripped the railing so as not to collapse.

All he could hear was-

“He is awake.” It was Rose’s voice. But he didn’t really seem to care. All his brain could provide him was one response. Words stuck in his throat that needed to get out. That forced their way.

“And you will worship him.” Y/n spoke in sync with the Ood and Rose jumped.

The Doctor looked between Y/n and the Ood and grabbed the railing with both hands.

“He is awake,” the Doctor echoed.

“And you will worship him,” Y/n was forced to say again. Then distant voices, far away again, like warbling in between static in a radio. Nothing at all. And then Y/n felt dizzy and his eyes fluttered and his grip loosened and he heard that scream again. A distant, high pitched woman’s scream. He saw fingers clinging to metal, loosening, and hands disappearing out of view.

Someone had died.

But he couldn’t save her.

He couldn’t even save himself.

He was falling too. Into blackness again. Into that darkness in those eyes. And his time when he fell there was no touch to shake him out of it. He just kept falling. He was suddenly sure he always would be.

-

When Y/n woke up he was covered in sweat. His body temperature was too high; he already knew it. He was on the ground, on his side. Still in the room with the Ood but now he has a pillow under his head. “What happened?”

Someone nervy offered a hand and he took it, letting them help him to his feet. “You passed out. The drill stopped and Ida and the Doctor went down to see about the power source.”

Y/n’s heart stopped. Bad. Very bad. This was not good. “Where’s Rose?”

“Command deck. She- hey! You’re supposed to stay here!”

But Y/n was running. He booked it as fast as he could, opening door after door and barely pausing to close it behind him. He hit the command deck and the door opened just as he saw what he knew he would. Toby, eyes red, those black symbols covering every inch of skin, lips blue. Dead. Something else controlling him.

Everyone jumped when Y/n entered. Toby spun around and locked eyes with him, grinning. “Oh it’s you. My favorite.”

Y/n’s face darkened. “Shut it. You’ll say anything to make me hate myself.”

Toby laughed. Well, his body did at least. That hadn’t been Toby for hours now. “I don’t need to make you do anything. You already do. Do you want to know a secret?” He stepped forward and Y/n held his ground, eyes blazing. Rose reached for him but stopped in her fear. Paused a little too long and didn’t quite touch him. “He hates you too. He sees the corruption in you, and you will lose him as you will lose everyone.”

It wasn’t a speech. It wasn’t a threat. But there was an emptiness to it. This creature couldn’t see the future. But it could see the present, and the comment about the Doctor hating him really could be true. How often did the devil lie? No beating around the bush, no manipulation, no twisting, no half truth. A full lie.

He tried not to think about it.

He didn’t even pause, didn’t even wait. He spun around and hooked his arm around Rose. “Run!” He shouted. Toby groaned and the ink on his skin puffed into smoke in the air. Leaving him clean. And wafting into the Ood, whose eyes turned red. The door had been left open by him and he ushered them all through it. Unfortunately the way Y/n had come was the way toward more Ood and they were stopped by the man who’d woken Y/n earlier.

“Get back!” He yelled. “It’s the Ood! Go the other way!”

So they did the only thing they could do. They went back, and the idiots with guns did the only thing they were good at: they killed the Ood in their way now. Y/n tried to blink the memories away of a different fire. A battle like this. Whatever was amplifying the Doctor’s memories in his mind - this wasn’t the time.

He moved to Rose as she got in contact with the Doctor. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly. The others were yelling at the Ood and some new weapon but Rose was all Y/n cared about now.

She looked at him, recognizing that haunted look in his eyes again. The fear he’d had when her face had been wiped.

She grabbed his hand. “I’m okay, don't worry yourself. Not too much. I need that thinker of yours.” He nodded immediately.

And then he did something a little scary. He turned, kicking Jefferson in the chest. Rose screamed but Jefferson dropped the gun and that was what mattered. Y/n kicked the gun down the hall. It slid past Toby, still on the ground, and out of reach. “What did you do that for?” Jefferson yelled. He was the leader of the soldiers and guards here and Y/n didn’t trust him.

Not just because he’d had a gun.

“You were going to shoot Toby.”

Jefferson blinked. “How did you-?”

Rose looked at Jefferson with fury. “Don’t touch a hair on his head!”

“I don’t follow orders from you,” the old man snapped. “I saw him infected. I saw him bring that thing in here, whatever got to the Ood and messed them up. We all did!”

“What we all saw was that whatever it was, it’s gone,” Rose snapped back. Her voice grew gentler as she approached the man, trying to be as non threatening as possible. Y/n couldn’t do that right now - he was reeling again. “Look at his face, nothing there. It passed into the Ood. He’s clean.”

That wasn’t quite right, Y/n was sure of it. Or maybe he was being paranoid. Either way it didn’t matter. If they could save Toby they had to try - and Jefferson would kill him if he thought he was any kind of threat.

Rose did well.

Jefferson backed off.

As the Doctor and Ida began to get on the capsule to be brought up to the surface, something it took them a second to decide on, the lights flickered and comms were taken over by the Ood. All of then that could, squishing into frame to tell them the Devil was coming after them. That it would kill them all and escape. Telling them things about their past it shouldn’t know. Listed them one by one, with titles and insights about who they were that was… impossible.

It called Y/n ‘the failure who no one can help but trust, who will let them all down when it matters’ and Y/n felt that feeling again. The breath on the back of his neck. And maybe he was pet TARDIS and part Timelord and maybe he was immortal and maybe if he fell into that black hole nothing would happen to him. But it would kill the Doctor and it would kill Rose and he wouldn’t be able to stop it. Nothing else mattered. They would fail. They would die.

The Doctor’s voice cut through the chaos after some feedback got everyone to go silent. The Doctor rallied everyone as he always did. Reminded them they had a chance. Gave them a boost, encouraged them, kept them going. And then the cord that was supposed to pull up the capsule with them inside it snapped and the feedback cut and sure they had life signs but by all intents and purposes, Ida and the Doctor were trapped ten miles below them with no way out and no way to even communicate.

They were gone.

Y/n fell to his knees.

Rose took control. She led everyone as she always could in a pinch. Got everyone organized as she’s learned from the Doctor. No one could deny the authority in her voice - especially when she was completely correct. She used every single person on a taste to complete a plan. They’d travel through the vents to get to Ood habitation and filter a virus that would kill all of them. Zack would filter air as they went by hand. They’d have to be fast and they’d have to stay together. Danny, the man who had been there when Y/n woke up, who usually watched the Ood, made the virus and then they were off. Rose grabbed Y/n’s hand and she gave him a look. Stone hard and cold.

“Promise me you can do this. I need you to move on your own now.”

Rose’s words stung. He hated being a liability. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He felt useless and stuck. The heat was rising inside him.

But he could do anything for her. “Of course I can. I’m sorry Rose. I didn’t mean to make you doubt me.”

“I never doubt you,” she promised. And that did make him feel better.

They were in the vents as quickly as they could get, but the Ood followed. Jefferson stayed behind to slow them down and they raced as fast as they could to get as far away as possible. But he stayed too long and the door closed and he was left behind. Losing air. And he said his goodbyes. Then he was gone.

Y/n saw it in moments. Flashes. Like a skipping tape. Could feel the heat creeping up again and all he could do was focus on going forward no matter what. Unfortunately when they’re next junction opened the Ood we’re waiting for them and they had to leave the vents and book it on foot. They raced to Ood habitation and Danny input the virus just in time. All the Ood died.

This time Y/n blocked it out. That connection he had, that link he seemed to be tapping into. The part of the TARDIS that connected him to everything around him. He shut it off. The heat stopped and he felt suddenly freezing. His vision focused, his heart beat slowed and his breathing evened. The Ood died and whatever was sinking into Y/n was gone.

They all ran to the comms to try and get to the Doctor and Ida, but they were still down so Zack began to work to try and boost comms to get to them.

Rose looked at Y/n. “You’re looking better. What happened?”

Y/n shook his head. “I don’t know I-“ he felt a deep and profound loss. Something was missing. Something was gone. It terrified him.

But before they could figure it out Zack stepped back and Rose grabbed the comm to try and get to Ida. She yelled for them to report, and they got a voice back.

Ida’s.

“He’s gone,” was all she said at first.

Rose and Y/n locked eyes. “What do you mean he’s gone?” Rose asked. But there was agony in both of their eyes.

“He fell,” Ida answered. And they couldn’t blame her because Rose had asked, but Y/n wanted to. “Into the pit. And I don’t know how deep it is - miles and miles and miles.

Rose blinked, looked away. Tried to hold on to something. There was loss in Y/n’s eyes but she refused to believe it in a million years. He didn’t want her to believe it anyway. The loss he felt wasn’t for the Doctor. Not yet. He wasn’t sure… he couldn’t know if the Doctor was dead or not. Not anymore. Or maybe… maybe the loss was the knowing. Maybe that was the thing he didn’t have. It made his heart sink.

“What do you mean he fell?” Rose asked.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Ida answered and it made Y/n’s eyes water. Of course she couldn’t. No one could have. “He said your name, Rose.”

Rose didn’t respond. She handed the comm to Zack and he talked to Ida as Rose looked at Y/n. “We can’t leave him,” she whispered.

Y/n stared at her with wide eyes. “Rose I… no. We can’t stay here. We’ll die.”

“We won’t. He’ll be back,” she insisted. “You know the Doctor will be back Y/n.”

“No.” Y/n shook his head but Rose had that look in her eyes again. The unstoppable look. Like nothing would convince her or change her mind. And Y/n knew it wouldn’t.

“What’s the matter?” Zack asked as he turned from the comms.

Y/n shot him a very meaningful glance. “She wants to stay on the planet.”

“I want to wait for him,” Rose insisted. “He’ll come back and I have to be here. We have to be here!”

Zack stared at her with pity. “I’m sorry but… he’s dead.”

Rose shook her head. “You don’t know him like we do. Y/n, tell him.”

But Y/n couldn’t help her this time. “I do know him Rose, you’re right. And I know he’s probably not dead. But I also know he can’t get to us. I also know he’d be furious if we stayed. I know that no matter where we go he’ll find us if he can. We don’t have to wait here, no matter where we are, he’ll find us. And staying here won’t help, we'll just get in the way. He’ll pull some miracle and he’ll come back but we have to trust him alright? We have to trust that he’ll find us when we leave, and we have to take care of ourselves and each other in the meantime.” He grabbed her hand. “Please.”

Rose hesitated too long. Y/n thought she was going to argue again. But then she just met his gaze. “Promise me he’ll come back. Promise me he’s alive and has a plan. With your thing, your connection. Tell me he’s okay.”

Y/n did something perhaps quite cruel.

He lied.

“I promise. I have all the Doctor’s brain up here-“ he tapped his forehead. “And he’s figuring it out right now. He’s facing it no problem and he needs us to be safe so he can be the hero again. You know him.” He offered his hand and she paused a second longer but then nodded and took it.

She could hate him later. He would tell her when they were safe. When she couldn’t get hurt or put her life on the line meaninglessly.

They all made their way to the rocket as fast as they could. Buckled in as Zack began to work as quickly as he could to get them to lift off. They were gone as quickly as they could, Y/n reaching over to take Rose’s hand when she looked out the window to watch the planet disappear from view. Somewhere in the middle of it she looked away, toward Y/n. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Y/n frowned. “What doesn’t?”

“We escaped. But if it just wanted to kill us, I mean, it could have in a bunch of different ways. Ripped the whole thing apart, skipped the monologue and just started killing. But it didn’t. It’s like it let us go.”

Toby suddenly turned to Rose before Y/n could respond. “Rose, would you do us a favor? Shut up.” His words were so harsh and so sudden and violent. Rose looked at Y/n and he nodded. That was when the gravity field collapsed. They began falling into the black hole. Toby screamed something and Y/n watched with wide eyes as Rose grabbed the bolt shooter and took aim at the window and pulled the trigger. The glass exploded and everyone screamed as the vacuum of space pulled against them. Rose unbuckled Toby. He was pale again, eyes red and symbols back across his skin.

Zack threw up the shields and they stopped suffocating. Y/n wasn’t much aware. He was seeing things again.

The vision started with glimpses like they usually did. A woman with red hair, then two, both ruffling Y/n’s hair and laughing at something he’d said, but at very different times. A man with dark skin as he rolled his eyes at an older white man and a blonde woman next to them in a long, gray coat that was awkwardly looking between them. Another old man, but this one much grumpier than the last one. A few of him actually. Mostly of him scowling until his eyes landed on Y/n, and then softening. Sometimes the old man was with a brunette woman with a sly, teasing smile hidden behind her hand, and sometimes he was with a black woman who laughed loudly and openly teased the old man for looking at Y/n the way he did. There was another woman too, with brown hair that curled even though she often wore it tied on top of her head. She glared at Y/n, sneering even as she made jokes that Y/n seemed to genuinely laugh at - which only seemed to irritate the woman more.

The visions seemed to catch the second they hit the man with the bow tie again. They stopped and slowed. Not flashes, but moments. He was dancing with Y/n. He was running and gripping Y/n’s hand. He was blubbering about being kissed by someone named Amy, and the drama of it all and how he really didn’t mean it while Y/n laughed. He was wearing an odd hat Y/n had never seen before, but it got ripped off his head and thrown in the air and a shot rang out through the air.

Y/n spun around to see another woman. She had curly blonde hair and a smirk across her lips. Her eyes were bright and shining and when she saw Y/n looking at her there was something distinctly flirty about it. It was confusing. It was easy to tell the Doctor apart from companions. Even the blonde woman with the bob - the anxious one who had been looking between the two arguing men - Y/n knew she was the Doctor too. Companions had such a distinct energy…

This woman wasn’t the Doctor. She carried a gun and there was a dangerous edge to her that Y/n knew the Doctor was capable of but would never display as proudly as this woman was. And yet… there was something about her. She wasn’t a companion. Y/n would say the Master if that were possible but she couldn’t be. She had such a similar energy to the woman with dark curly hair that pinned it up, but the irritation that woman had displayed toward Y/n wasn’t there. And she made Y/n feel very different things.

The next few visions were all of her. Most of them she had that smirk on her face, and some of them she was kissing Y/n. And some of them she was kissing the Doctor - the man on the bow tie.

So definitely not the Master then.

None of them told him how they all fell in love, and it shook him that Rose was nowhere in sight, but it was clear that something had happened and she was gone. And this woman…

“River,” Y/n sighed. “You need to get up.” Y/n felt his heart drop into his toes as the woman curled next to him groaned.

“I want more time.” She reached up, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s forehead.

Y/n chuckled. “You definitely have time. To serve. As the law requires.” The words were coming out of his mouth and the vision was so clear he could feel his heart fluttering and the smile across his face but that didn’t mean any of it made sense.

“It’s so unfair,” River complained. She turned and swung a leg over Y/n to settle on his stomach, leaning down to brush her fingers across his skin. “I only killed the man a little bit. Can’t I enjoy my time with the loves of my life?”

Y/n laughed but his stomach plummeted into his toes. Not his stomach in the vision - that was still fluttering with butterflies, his skin tingling at her touch. Which made even less sense! This woman had killed someone? She was in jail? Had he broken her out? Had she broken herself out just to be here with him? Why would he be with someone like that?

“I'm sure the Doctor will forgive you,” Y/n sighed with love in his voice. But Y/n felt his heart stop in his chest. The implication was clear. This woman had killed the Doctor. How could Y/n love her? All the context was missing. He didn’t understand!

The scene changed and he was looking at his Doctor again. The blue suit and sneakers and spikey hair was all there, but there was a new darkness too. A hollowness. He was older and had lost more. Y/n reached up exactly as he wanted to, running his hands through the man’s hair. The Doctor melted under the touch, his head falling on Y/n’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

Y/n felt his heart ache. “I know,” he responded. He swallowed. The him that was seeing this and the him that was experiencing the moment were completely in sync. So much so that it was hard to hold onto as a vision and it was just a day Y/n was living.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Y/n sighed. He cupped the Doctor’s face, lifting him by the chin to bring their eyes together. “I lost her too. I know how it felt. I know… how it must have felt. To realize I knew the whole time. I can imagine, I mean.”

He shook his head, his eyes watering. “Y/n it wasn’t your fault. You do so much for me and I turned my back on you. It’s only because Donna-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/n rushed. “I need you to hear me, Doctor. You’re going to mess up. So am I. And I already forgive you. I have forgiven you a hundred times over because I love you and I know what I am getting myself into every single time I choose you. And I will keep choosing you forever. Do you understand me? I love you.”

The Doctor melted, his eyes softening and some of that light coming back again. “What will I do when I keep losing them?” He sighed. “How do you manage it, knowing how they go?”

Y/n thought over that for a moment. “Honestly, I can’t make decisions for you or anyone. All of them will do as they see fit. And you need them. And I need them. And they need us. Especially you.” He left a kiss on the Doctor’s nose and he smiled ever so softly. “And there are more friends around the corner. Family. And you lose them too, but… the moments you get to have them at all are worth it I think.” He brushed his thumb across the Doctor's cheek. “Does that make sense?”

The Doctor nodded. “A bit.”

Y/n smiled. “Come on. Bed time. You need your sleep.”

Sliding off of the counter he was sitting on, the Doctor rolled his eyes but didn’t resist as Y/n pulled him along. “Alright mum,” he said sarcastically. Y/n laughed and the sound echoed and the TARDIS itself seemed to get a little brighter and the Doctor’s smile grew. They would be okay. They’d figure it all out eventually.

When Y/n woke up he was on the TARDIS. He ran his hands through his hair and sat up, wiping his eyes. Something was off. He slid out of bed and headed into the control room.

The wrong control room.

No wait. This was his control room. Why did he expect a different one? He raised a hand to rub his temples just as the front doors of the TARDIS opened to the sound of laughter. Y/n’s eyes snapped up, wide.

Rose.

Why was he so surprised to see Rose?

At some point in his visions, it seemed the future him had gotten muddled with the current him. And the future him was stunned to see this past version of life, with this TARDIS and this Rose.

Rose and the Doctor froze when they turned and saw Y/n. The Doctor was the first to break. He was across the room in a second, hands on Y/n’s jaw so he could maneuver his face as he checked his eyes. “I told you to keep him in his room until we got back,” he grumbled, and Y/n smiled as he realized the man was talking to the TARDIS.

The Doctor was so young… exactly as he had been for as long as Y/n had known him. It was a weird balance, the haunted man he’d seen in the future and the haunted man he saw now.

Rose was there only a second later, frowning with concern. “Y/n are you okay?”

Y/n stared at her too long. Maybe that’s why she had asked. But he just smiled wider and nodded. “I’m okay. Have I been out long?”

The Doctor had that look he always did when he was deeply displeased by something. “Four days.” He was worried and that was making him protective. Defensive even. Like he was ready for an argument.

Maybe Y/n would have argued before. He couldn’t remember, it felt ages away. All he could see now was that fragile man with the ancient eyes that were so tired. Even more than his Doctor. You couldn’t argue too much with that man, he might actually get upset. You had to count your losses where you could and be cleverer about the things that mattered. “I’m sorry you must have been so worried about me.”

“Worried?” Rose scoffed. “Y/n we were out of our minds. What happened back on the Bitter Pill?”

Y/n opened his mouth but then closed it. He looked at the Doctor and worked his jaw. “Whatever creature we faced was messing with everything attached to the psychic field. I think I found myself attached to it at some point. That’s probably how I’ve been so connected to everything since the beginning. Some very weak psychic abilities. Latent. My good instinct that leads us places, my intense empathic ability, how I even connected to all the Cybermen who died in the other universe.” He shrugged. “I turned it off.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “You what?”

Y/n rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s confusing for me too. I don’t know if it’ll come back or what’s going on with me. I’m as confused as you are honestly.”

Rose pursed her lips. “Well. You kept passing out, and the way you connected to all that - it was terrifying. We couldn’t drag you around everywhere, if it had gotten really bad… I don’t know it-“

“You shouldn’t come traveling with us for a while,” the Doctor stated bluntly. “We need to see how this is affecting you a bit more long term before we risk your life again. Even if you don’t die, I will not lose you. Do you understand?”

Y/n nodded. “That makes sense. I’ll keep an eye over the TARDIS for a while.”

That surprised the Doctor. “I-“ He paused, trying to filter through that. “Y/n. May I scan your mind?” Y/n smiled and nodded, knowing the Doctor was being paranoid but also that he had every right to be. So Y/n sat and let the Doctor run all his tests. He even let the Doctor scan through his mind, tucking away the visions he’d seen when he was unconscious.

“Y/n,” the Doctor began. “You need to show me everything I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Y/n chuckled. “No I don’t. They’re visions of the future, Doctor. Spoilers.”

They were looking at each other, eyes open, so they could both see the other reacting to this situation. The patience Y/n had while waiting for the Doctor to accept that they both knew he had to drop it even as he fought it.

Finally the Doctor sighed. “Fine.” He leaned back. “What you saw changed you.” Y/n didn’t lie - he nodded. The Doctor frowned. “Should I be worried?”

“You’ll always be worried. But you’re right - I can’t be in the way. I may be immortal but you two are not. So go on your little adventures and I’ll rest. I need some time to myself anyway. It’s been a lot since this whole thing happened and I really haven’t had time to process it. So-“ he shrugged.

Rose hummed. “Let’s eat something. We can tell you what you missed.” Y/n got excited and hopped up, racing to the kitchen. Rose and the Do tor exchanged looks. There was something off about Y/n but perhaps some things would stay the same if he always got this excited for food. Everything else they could figure out later. For now they had stories to tell.

[writeawaythepain]

Oblivious

Tango Tek x (gn!reader)

Anybody else really miss watching Tango’s videos when he left? 

Word count: 2.4 k

Prompts:

“I would be nervous too in your shoes. But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.”

Doing each other's hair.

Summary:

You convince Tango to finally take a break from his new big redstone project by inviting him over for a sleepover. You start to wonder if it was even a good idea, as your normal teasing back-and-forth banter starts to hit a little too close to home when you realize your crush for the redstoner was just getting worse…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“I would be nervous too, in your shoes,” I try to reassure him with a smile. “ But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.” You look directly into his fiery red eyes.

“….Aaaa- you’re just making me more stressed!!” Tango yells out dipping the nail polish brush back into the bottle. “Why am I even so stressed?!” 

“Cause I made your nails fabulous, and if you mess mine up I’ll never forgive you.” You answer simply, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“You did do my nails fabulously, you did…but I think I’m actually going to go for a more abstract look-'' He flashes you a mischievous smile as he slowly lowers the brush closer to your finger, and nowhere near where your actual nail was. You instantly pull away, gasping in mock offense.

“Don’t you dare-“ You start.

“Wha -at, do you not trust me?!” He says snickering. You eye him suspiciously.

”Not when you say things like that!”

Your plan for making sure Tango took a break from his new big project was going well so far. Sure you felt a little childish when bringing up the idea of a sleepover, but Tango’s enthusiasm dashed most of your concerns instantly…Most, that is, except for your growing concern that you may love your friend in more ways than just platonic….

You usually always push those feelings to the back burner, not wanting to ruin the thing you two already had going, but seeing the way he stuck out his tongue in concentration while still managing to get polish all over your finger wasn’t helping. ”How are you so bad at this?“ You tease, smiling.

”I- you shush! I’m trying, ok! You keep squirming-“ He says trying to readjust his positioning by grabbing and tilting your hand slightly.

”I’m not squirming! I’m laughing. At you.” You say still giggling. He huffs, and eventually decides that his technique wasn’t working, and decides to try a new one. He gets up from his cross-legged position on the floor, pulling his knees up and toward himself to form a resting place for your wrist. His grip on your hand tightens a little as he yanks you closer.

”Just shut up and come here-” The rest of your body follows your hand, and you scooch closer to him, shutting up. Tango doesn’t even seem to notice your close proximity, too focused on trying to paint your nails neatly. After a few more beats of flustered (on your part) silence, he looks up beaming. “There, first hand done!” 

You blink, your brain still catching up, before you inspect his work. The first finger he did was quite bad- unevenly painted and there was some color accidentally splotched onto your skin. But each nail got progressively better, and all in all… “Well- I’ve had worse. And I like the color!” He’d picked a bright red for you, a shade that reminded you of his bright eyes. You picked your favorite color for his nails, and you now wonder if he did the same.

”Ok- ok! See- I’m learning!” He says before holding out his hand again, “other one?”

You give him your other hand, and are forced to look at his adorably concentrated face again as he paints your other nails. You start talking to distract yourself. “So I assume this is your first time ever doing this?”

”Zed’s painted my nails before- but it was with some kinda poison for one of his science-y experiment-o thingies.” If he had been talking about anyone else you might’ve questioned it, but it was Zedaph, so you weren’t really even surprised. “I’ve never painted someone else’s before- no.” He responds not looking up, still entirely focused.

”Really, I couldn’t tell?” You say sarcasm dripping from your voice as you smile. He looks up at you for a second just to roll his eyes.

“I thought I told you to shush-“ He says, almost scolding if it wasn’t for the smile on his face. He rolls his shoulders, and it seems like being hunched over in concentration was starting to make him sore, so he instead leans back a little, pulling you even closer, and holds your forearm between his knees. Ok- this was getting ridiculous, there was no way your face wasn’t getting a bit red now. 

“Do you want me to just detach my hand and give it to you?” You laugh trying to keep your composure.

”No- “ He laughs, seemingly oblivious to your suffering. “-I like you just as you are, all in one piece thanks.” You chuckle, looking anywhere but directly at him until he finally finishes, and releases your hand. ”Done! Now don’t you look absolutely fanta-bulous! The color really suits you-“ He cheers, sending you a wink that makes you wonder if he was doing this on purpose.

The second hand looks even better than the first, and if you were being honest, it really warmed your heart that he tried so hard. “It does look great, the red makes me feel like a model.” You pose in a silly vogue showing off your nails as if in a commercial, and it succeeds in making Tango laugh. He tries a pose of his own, showing off his nails in front of his face and pursing his lips. He looks at you, and winks. You burst out laughing, and he joins in as you both have goofy smiles on your face. When your laughing finally calms down, Tango looks up at you.

”So, what else do you usually do at sleepovers?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

”Well…me and my friends would sometimes play truth or dare, or do each other's hair-“ Tango’s eyes light up.

“Why not both! Though, I don’t think there’s much you can do with this mop on my head-“ He responds pointing at his spikey blonde hair, “I kinda just have to let it do what it wants.”

You squint at it, sizing up his hairdo like it was a challenge. “I think I can figure something out…”

”Go ahead! Be my guest.” He says sitting up and taking off the goggles he had on. 

You get up to grab some supplies from the bathroom, before returning and kneeling down behind him, trying to find a longer chunk of hair that you can work with. Satisfied with finding a section near his pointy ears, you start braiding. “Right, you go first. Truth or dare?”

”Well, I can’t really move- so truth? I did not think this through, huh?” He chuckles, and you pull on his hair slightly to keep him still.

”Stop moving!” You say, laughing as well. You think for a second, trying to come up with a good question. “Ok…When you first met me, what was your first impression of me?”

Tango smiles, and flushes slightly as he thinks back on the moment, remembering it fondly. You're too focused to notice. “Well- If I’m being a hundred percent honest. I just thought you looked really cool! But in kinda a like- a slightly intimidating way, you know?” You spare him an odd look.

”Really?” You ask, finishing up the first little braid before gently tilting his head the other way to do the same thing on the other side.

”Yea! Then, I got to know you and realized you're just a big ole softy!” He says chuckling. You roll your eyes and shake your head, but you don’t stop the small smile that spreads across your face.

”Yea, yea, whatever.” You chuckle, focusing back on his hair.

”Your turn now, truth or dare?” Tango asks.

“Truth, I’m still trying to finish this braid-“ He takes a moment to respond, giving you just enough time to finish the second braid, so you tie it to the end of the first one, forming a sort of halo around the back of his head.

”What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?” He asks. One instantly pops to mind, but you shake your head, dismissing it instantly.

”Actually, nevermind, I'm finished. I switch to my choice to dare.” Tango turns around to face you, almost pouting.

”Wha- You can’t do that!”

”Yes I can, and look!” You pull out a hand mirror you brought and show him what you’ve done to his hair, his frown instantly turns into an excited smile.

”Woah- it’s so cute!” He says, turning his head a little to inspect the braids, grinning. 

”You are! And your hair looks nice too.” You say shooting him wink, he laughs but you swear you saw his face get a little pink. He looks off to the side like he’s thinking, and then turns back to you with a toothy smirk.

”Alright, I thought of a dare. Give me your absolutely worst pick up line. Just- the most cheesy, corny, awful pick up line ever.” Your eyebrow raises a little at his request, and you take a moment to think.

”Worst pick up line huh…? That’s hard cause we both know how amazing I am at flirting.” You say sarcastically, just buying yourself some time to think of something clever.

Tango laughs, “Yep, uh huh. Totally. You're like, the flirting master.” He teases back.

Finally a really stupid one comes to mind, “Tango, are you a campfire? Because you’re hot and I totally want s’more-“ You say, barely able to get it out without laughing.

Tango stares at you blankly for a moment, before his face reddens and he bursts out laughing. “That- that’s actually terrible.”

“Hey you asked! I’m starting to think you just like the idea of me flirting with you.” You joke, turning your back to him so he could do your hair. Instead, he decides to lean forward and whisper directly into your ear.

“Maybe I do~” He pulls back and starts laughing, but you're frozen. Your face feels flushed and you try to calm your racing heart. You keep reminding yourself that it was all just a joke, that you needed to calm down or you’d risk making it weird. “Aw, too much?” He asks.

“I- just-” You stutter.

“Well too bad, it’s my payback for you not letting me work on my redstone stuff.” He says gently running his hands through your hair and…you were just now realizing how bad of an idea this all was. You were supposed to be getting over your feelings for the hot tempered blaze, but instead you’ve found yourself falling for him even more.

“Yea well, that’s what I get for being a good friend I guess.” You chuckle, but it comes out a bit strained. 

“Friends? Is that all we are?” Tango asks slightly…disappointed?

“Alright Tango enough with the jokes, you keep doing that I might actually fall for you.” You try to keep up your chipper and teasing tone, but your voice wavered towards the end.

Tango stops playing with your hair, and moves in front of you again. He seems nervous, and looks down at his hands a lot. You don’t dare hope, you don’t let yourself think anything, too scared to lose the friendship that you two had, no matter how much you cared for him.

“Maybe…uhh…maybe I might’ve actually been the one, that has done the falling…for…you.” He ends it with a dry chuckle, wringing his hands and struggling to keep eye contact. When you don’t respond right away, he finally looks at you. You search his eyes, searching for any sign that this was all some sort of weird bit.

“Are- are you being for real…or…” You finally ask, still not sure.

“Uh…yea? I mean…I thought I was making it obvious and all but I guess...” For some reason you feel tears well up in your eyes. “...Ah! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” You interrupt him, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“No! No it’s fine I’m just- I’m glad! I promise!” You reassure him, a huge smile spreading across your lips. His eyes are still wide with concern, and slight confusion.

“Wait so- I’m confused. Do you also…?” You bob your head up and down, laughing a bit as you try to regain your composure after the roller coaster of emotions that had been the past few minutes.

“Yes, Tango. Obviously, I’ve fallen for you too.” You finally respond, he grins and grabs both your hands in his.

“Well, obviously- neither of us are really good at reading the obvious-” He snickers, gently stroking your hand with his thumb. 

You giggle, “Wow, and now someone has spilled about their crush, we’ve checked, like, all the sleepover boxes but-”

“-but sleeping?” Tango asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“No? No one sleeps at sleepovers, come on dude-” You respond and he laughs, “the only thing we haven’t done is watch a movie!”

“Hey well I’m not complaining. As long as I get to do your hair first, since it was um- interrupted.” He smiles, blushing slightly.

“Why not both!” You say mirroring his tone from earlier.

~ ~ ~

This time when he runs his fingers through your hair, you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You're seated on the ground, while Tango sits on the couch. You're situated between both his legs, as he tries, undos, and retries to braid your hair. You realize you don’t really mind if he ever gets it right, you're just glad to finally relax with the knowledge that he loved being near you just as much as you loved being near him.

”Ok…I’m done…I think?” You hear Tango’s voice from behind you. You haven’t really been paying attention to the movie much, instead just enjoying the redstoner's company, so you lean over and grab the hand mirror.

”Aww, I love it.” You giggle a little,  “But…maybe don’t quit your day job, hot stuff.” You tilt your head up to see his reaction, and he just rolls his eyes and snickers before leaning down and closer to your face.

”Is it good enough to get a little somethin’ at least? For trying?” He smirks, leaning just a little closer. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you smile and sit up, turning slightly, before gently grabbing his collar, and meeting him in the middle. And you swear, when his lips hit yours, you feel fireworks.

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