#Instant tears everywhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago

Text

You left me behind, and now I see you everywhere | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!Reader | WC: 11.6k | CW: MDNI, 18+, emotional distress, heartbreak, angst, unresolved feelings, grief, heated argument, anger, smut, piv, wrap it before you tap it, it's office sex, heated kiss, dirty talk, kind of rough sex, general case talk, mention of mr. Scratch (if that's even a warning, maybe some of y'all have trauma ;))

Summary: After years apart, following Hotch’s departure into witness protection and his decision to run for Congress, you're forced to confront unresolved feelings when you meet again. Tension builds as you navigate your emotional fallout, leading to a passionate confrontation and a second chance at love.

A/N: Worldwide by Big time rush started playing from my playlist as I reached the last scene to edit…. I had to stop myself from crying cause that song fits so well for some reason.

Peter Lewis was dead. Mr. Scratch was finally gone. With him out of the picture, Aaron could come back. That had been your one glimmer of hope through all the sleepless nights and endless waiting — knowing that once Lewis was no longer a threat, the man you loved would return. No more running, no more hiding. Hotch and Jack would finally be safe.

You clung to that thought like a lifeline, repeating it to yourself over and over again: He can come back now. He’ll come back to me. He'll come home.

The rumors had reached your ears days before Rossi called the meeting. Hotch was out of witness protection. Finally free to do what he wanted, to reach out again. Your heart soared at the news, desperate for it to be true. You had tried to keep your emotions in check, to remind yourself that things weren’t that simple, that there were procedures he had to go through before he could come home. But still, the idea of him walking through those doors — or knocking on your door — returning to his place at the BAU, and — most importantly — returning to you, was the only thing that kept you from breaking completely during his absence. It was the only reason why you had been able to keep your composure.

Now, as you stood in the conference room, your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The relief of knowing Peter Lewis was gone should have been enough. It should have been enough.

They'll be safe.

Rossi took his place at the front, his demeanor was serious, a subtle weight to his usually warm expression that you'd come to love over the years. You could see the effort it took for him to meet your eyes, his gaze softening as though he knew the words that would follow would shatter you. Rossi had become a rock to you over the past year, always there to have a heartfelt chat about your feelings, how you were doing, and the progress you'd made trying to move on. But in reality, you hadn't.

“I’ve spoken to Aaron,” Rossi said, his voice calm but laced with gravity. “He and Jack are safe. They’ve left witness protection.”

You exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and joy rushing through you. He’s safe. After everything, he was safe. That meant he would come back. He had to.

But then Rossi continued, his eyes flicking over the team, hesitant in a way that made your stomach twist. “Hotch won't be returning to the BAU.”

The world around you froze. His words echoed in your ears, but your mind rejected them, refusing to accept the truth they carried. He’s not coming back? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t make sense of it.

"What do you mean he’s not coming back?"

The tears welled up before you could stop them. Your throat tightened, and you felt your heart shatter inside your chest. He wasn’t coming back. The man you loved — the man you had held onto, even when he left you behind — was choosing not to return, was choosing to stay away. The hope you had so carefully nurtured and held onto was ripped away in an instant, replaced by a cold, gnawing sense of abandonment. You felt the pit in your stomach, and you couldn't tell if you were going to throw up at the revelation.

It felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared blankly ahead, your body betraying you as the sobs threatened to spill out. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. How could he?

You had waited. You had been patient. You had loved him through all of it — through the secrecy in the beginning, through the ups and the downs, and now through the distance. You had held onto the belief that once the threat was over, he would come back to you. That you two could be whole again. That your soul finally would be reunited with its missing piece. But now, it seemed like everything you had hoped for, everything you had believed in, was gone.

Your hands shook as you tried to wipe the tears from your face, but they just kept coming. He’s not coming back. The realization pierced through your chest, sharp and unforgiving. It was like reliving the moment he left, only this time, there was no promise of a future. No promise of us.

You felt like a fool. You had been his, entirely, even when he hadn’t been yours. You had given him everything — your love, your trust, your loyalty. And now? Now he had left you with nothing but the weight of that betrayal.

Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The room around you faded into the background as your world crumbled at Rossi’s words.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t coming back. Not to the team. Not to you.

The silence in the room after Rossi’s announcement was deafening. You stood there, tears streaming down your face, completely oblivious to the concerned glances being exchanged around you. The tension in your chest was unbearable, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Emily was the first to notice, her brow furrowing as she took a step toward you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice full of concern as she tilted her head with compassion. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were stuck in your throat, buried under the crushing weight of your emotions. You shook your head, your lips trembling as you tried — and failed — to stop the tears. Truth be told, they weren't surprised by your reaction.

“Hey, come here,” JJ said gently, moving closer, her hand hovering just above your shoulder, wanting to pull you in for a hug. Her touch was warm and comforting, but it felt like too much. The kindness, the sympathy — it overwhelmed you, only reminded you of how deeply you’d been hurt.

You pulled away, a sudden, jerky movement that made JJ’s hand drop back to her side. The rejection was unintentional, but you couldn’t help it. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you wanted was to be left alone, to scream and cry.

“I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though the crack in your voice betrayed you. You turned away from them, wiping furiously at your face, even though the tears wouldn’t stop.

I can’t break down here. Not in front of them.

Morgan stepped forward, his expression softening as he watched you struggle. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. We know how much he meant to you. We’re here for you,” he said, his voice low, it was sincere, but you weren't ready for that, weren't ready to admit that this was your new reality.

But that was the problem. They were all there, and you were unraveling in front of them, exposed and vulnerable. You didn’t want their comfort. You didn’t want their pity. What you wanted was Aaron. You wanted answers. You wanted an explanation for why he had chosen to leave you behind, why he wasn’t coming back. For why he never called.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought. You clenched your fists at your sides, feeling the weight of their eyes on you, all of them waiting, ready to offer support. But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

They weren't him.

You shook your head again, more forcefully this time. “I just—” Your voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying on your tongue. “I need to go.”

Rossi, who had been quietly watching the exchange from across the room, stepped forward. His eyes were filled with understanding, but there was nothing he could say that would make this easier, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't make you hate him. “Take the day if you need to,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that usually offered comfort, though it barely registered through the numbness settling into your bones.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You nodded stiffly, walking into the bullpen to grab your things. Your hands shook, desperate to escape before you completely fell apart in front of everyone.

“Hey,” Emily called out, stepping out of the conference room, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t face them — not now, maybe not ever. You pushed through the door, your footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as you fled the room, the concerned voices of your teammates fading behind you.

Your heart raced as you moved down the familiar corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last. The walls closed in, the pressure mounting in your chest until it became unbearable. By the time you reached the front doors, you could barely see through the tears, your vision blurred, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. Grey clouds loomed over your head, threatening to spill the same tears that you so desperately tried to hold back.

You stopped as you reached the end of the parking lot, finally letting the sobs you had been holding back tear through you, the grief, the betrayal, all of it crashing over you in waves.

He’s not coming back.

The words repeated in your mind, over and over again, each time cutting deeper than the last.

You had never felt so abandoned, so completely lost. And the worst part was, you had no idea what to do next, no idea who to turn to. Because the only person you truly wanted to turn to was gone from your life.

The walk back to your apartment felt like a blur, the city passing by in a haze of noise and light. You barely registered the world around you — your mind was somewhere else entirely, trapped in the ache of Rossi’s words and the sharp sting of Hotch’s decision. He wasn’t coming back. The words haunted you.

That thought pulsed through your veins, making each step feel heavier than the last. By the time you reached your door, your hands were still trembling as you fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside and just breathe.

But the second you stepped into your apartment, something felt off.

You paused just inside the doorway, your body instinctively tensing as a strange feeling washed over you. The air felt… different. Still. You took a cautious step forward, your eyes scanning the familiar space, searching for something — anything — that looked out of the ordinary, that might explain the knot forming in your stomach.

Then you saw it.

Sitting neatly on the dining table, in plain view, were your spare keys. Next to them was an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in a handwriting only a left-handed person could've written. You recognized it immediately.

Aaron’s.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in time. Fear and confusion mixed with a sick sense of dread as you stared at the letter, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. How did he get in?

And how had he gotten out? The door had after all been locked.

Your heart pounded from your heart to your ears as you walked toward the table, the floor feeling unsteady beneath your feet. You hesitated for a long moment before picking up the envelope, the paper felt cold and rough between your fingers. The sight of his handwriting was almost too much to bear.

He had been here.

With shaking hands, you slid your finger through the envelope, carefully opening it and removing the letter as if it was the most delicate thing you had ever seen. Your eyes scanned the words, every stroke of the pen, every curve and twist was a painful reminder of the man who had once been yours.

The letter read:

𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝙸 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ��𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝙰𝚄. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 — 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 — 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔’𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖.

𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎.

𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗.

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

— 𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗

The letter slipped from your hands, fluttering to the floor as your legs gave out beneath you. The sobs came violently, tearing through you as you collapsed onto the floor of your living room.

This was it. This was the moment where everything you had been holding inside — every ounce of grief, every bit of hope that had clung to your heart over the past year — finally broke free. The pain you had shoved down for so long, the hurt you had tried so hard to hide, came rushing out all at once, too powerful to contain.

You pressed your hands to your face, the tears spilling uncontrollably as your chest heaved with sobs. He had been here. He had come back to your space, to your life, only to leave you with words that felt like daggers in your heart.

He could've waited for you to come home.

He had made his choice. He was leaving you behind. And he had done it with the same precision he used for everything — careful, calculated and always thinking ahead. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect Jack. You would've done the same if you had been in his shoes. But you could hate the way he had left you, hate him for making you feel discarded, like something in his life that could be put away, neatly, and forgotten about without a second thought.

You curled into yourself on the floor, hugging your legs, your body trembling as wave after wave of sorrow washed over you. This wasn’t just about him leaving the BAU. This was about him leaving you. About him cutting you out of his life completely, like you had never mattered at all.

The sobs racked through you, they were raw and unrelenting, as you lay there on the cold floor of your apartment, clutching at the emptiness inside you. You had been holding onto him for so long, for too long, and now he was gone — really gone. And you were left with nothing more than the bitter taste in your mouth and the sound of your own shattered heart echoing in the silence.

Six years had passed since Hotch had walked out of your life.

In that time, you had grown, changed — hardened, perhaps. You’d thrown yourself into your work, climbing the ranks within the BAU. The weight of your experience now rested comfortably on your shoulders. You were no longer the agent who had cried in Rossi’s office all those late nights, the agent who had stood frozen in the conference room all those years ago, devastated by the news of Hotch’s permanent departure.

Now, you were Emily's right hand, trusted to run the team when needed, especially when bureaucracy. Rossi had decided to stop back a bit, taking on fewer cases and focusing more on his writing as he attempted weaning himself away from the team, hoping that this time he truly would be able to retire.

Leading the team had come naturally to you, though some days, when the office was quiet and your mind wandered, you still felt the ache of his absence.

You sighed softly, rubbing the back of your neck as you closed your office door behind you. It was time for the next briefing, and you’d promised Emily you’d call everyone in. The case was urgent — a missing child, time was not on your side — but as you walked toward the conference room, your attention was pulled to the large TV mounted on the wall in the bullpen.

A voice you hadn’t heard in years rang out through the room, smooth and familiar, the same low timbre that had once soothed your heart. The voice that still echoed in your dreams on nights when sleep was particularly elusive.

Aaron.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes snapping to the television screen, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as his face filled the screen. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety or love perhaps, that raced through your veins, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling something. Something you hadn't felt in years.

There he was, standing at a podium, flanked by the American flag, a calm and authoritative presence as he spoke to a crowd. The caption running along the bottom read: Former FBI unit chief Aaron Hotchner Announces Candidacy for a spot in Congress.

Your breath hitched. He looked older. The lines on his face were more defined, his hair tinged with a little more gray, his face was shaven, somethings never change you thought — though you could sense the salt and pepper streaks that had started appearing within it. The years had marked him, but there was still an undeniable strength in his presence. A steady, unshakable resolve that had always been a part of who he was.

And yet, even now, after all this time, he still looked as good as the day you last saw him. Perhaps even more so, with that air of confidence that seemed to come so naturally to him. The sharpness in his gaze, the way he commanded a room — it was all still there, just as you remembered — even through a TV screen.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“…It is with great honor that I announce my candidacy for Congress,” Hotch’s voice continued, steady and firm. “My years of service in the FBI have prepared me to take on the challenges we face as a nation, and I believe it’s time to bring the values of justice and integrity to the forefront of our government. I believe it's time for a change.”

The camera zoomed in on his face, his expression was stoic yet passionate, every word calculated and purposeful. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories — late nights in the office, quiet moments where you’d lean on each other after a case, the warmth of his smile when it was just the two of you, away from the chaos, the comfort of his hugs, the soft and tender feeling of his lips — everything came back.

But those memories were ghosts now. Echoes of a time you had buried deep, right along with the pain of losing him.

A lump formed in your throat as you stood there, rooted in place, watching a man who had once been everything to you stand on that stage, now completely out of reach — yet so close by. He wasn’t the same man you knew all those years ago, you were sure of that. He wasn’t your Hotch anymore. He was something else entirely — a public figure, a leader stepping into the political arena, ready to take on a whole new world — perhaps he never really was yours to begin with.

Your fingers tightened around the folder in your hands, your knuckles turning white with sheer force, the weight of it grounding you as you forced yourself to breathe. You didn’t know what to feel. Shock, maybe. Sadness. Perhaps even a bit of pride, seeing him like this, doing something for the greater good. But mostly, there was a gnawing ache deep in your chest, a familiar one, reminding you of what could have been.

You blinked rapidly, tearing your gaze away from the screen as the room started to blur around you. Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t let yourself fall apart. Not here. Not now.

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, walking past you, his eyes flicking to the TV screen before landing back on you, concern etched on his face. He didn't know much about your relationship with Hotch, only the rumors that had flown between the desks in the bullpen as you'd drowned yourself in work trying to suffocate the pain.

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you lied, your voice tight. “I’ll be right there. Just… finishing something up.”

Luke gave you a nod, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he headed toward the conference room, leaving you standing there, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the space around you.

You turned back to the screen, just in time to catch the last shot of Hotch stepping down from the podium, the applause from the crowd ringing out as the camera panned away.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he had ever thought about you during these last six years. If he had thought of calling you. If, somewhere in that busy mind of his, you had crossed his thoughts as he prepared to step into this new chapter of his life.

But it didn’t matter now. He had made his choice, and so had you.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and turned away from the screen, pushing down the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. There was a case to solve. There always was. And that was the only thing that mattered now.

“Alright, team,” you called out, walking towards the conference room, your voice steady once again. “Let’s get to work.”

You walked into the conference room, trying to shake off the lingering effects of seeing Hotch on the TV. The rest of the team was already seated as you made it inside, files in hand, waiting for you to start the briefing. Emily glanced at you, her eyes narrowing slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press. She trusted you to compartmentalize when it mattered.

You inhaled deeply and projected the case details on the large screen at the front of the room. The image of a young boy's smiling face filled the space, the innocence in his eyes starkly contrasted by the grim reality of his disappearance and the details listed in the case files of similar incidents in the area.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Our missing person is Ethan Marshall, age 7. He was last seen outside of his school two days ago in a quiet suburb of Portland, Oregon. His parents reported him missing when he didn’t come home after his play date that same day with his best friend from class. There’s been no contact from a potential abductor. No ransom demands. The local authorities are stuck, and they’ve requested our help.”

JJ immediately sat forward, flipping through the case file. “Two days with no leads and no communication? We’re looking at someone who doesn’t need the attention. This could be personal, or we’re dealing with someone who’s done this before and knows what they're doing.”

Tara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on Ethan’s photo. “The fact that there’s been no contact suggests they’re not after money. This might be about control, power, or even something darker, like revenge or even fantasy or sexually-driven motives.” You closed your eyes for a brief moment at the thought of what the unsub might put the young boy through. You had to find him, quickly.

You clicked through to the next slide — images of Ethan’s parents, Tim and Julia Marshall. “Ethan’s parents are a stable middle-class family with no criminal records. His mother works as a nurse, and his father is a local contractor. No major incidents or enemies we or they know of. However, Tim Marshall's company was sued about a year ago over a construction job that went south. It’s possible there could be a grudge tied to that.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But to target a child? It’s a big escalation. If this is about the father’s job, we’d need to look into that lawsuit, but we also need to consider the possibility that the kid was the primary target from the start.”

Emily chimed in, her eyes sharp with focus. “Agreed. We should explore all angles — someone with a grudge against the family, a potential predator, or maybe even someone close to the family. It’s often someone they know.”

Spencer, who had been quietly flipping through his notes, spoke up. “The average age for a child abductor is in their mid-thirties to mid-forties, typically male, though that’s not always the case. Most of them have a history of deviant behavior or crimes against minors. If this is someone who’s taken Ethan to satisfy a fantasy, we might be looking at someone who has done this several times before and is getting better at hiding their tracks.”

Your gaze swept over the team, the weight of the case settling in the room. “We’ve got a few potential leads we need to investigate. JJ, I want you to work on the media angle — see if you can coordinate with local news to get a controlled message out, prepare the Marshalls for a conference. Luke, you and Tara will dig deeper into Tim Marshall’s lawsuit. See if there’s anything there we can work with. Spencer, I want you to start profiling any possible suspects within a fifty-mile radius who fit the age and behavioral profile of past offenders.”

The team nodded, already mentally gearing up for the work ahead. You could see the gears turning in their minds as they absorbed the information and pieced together possible profiles of the unsub.

Finally, you cleared your throat, pushing away the personal turmoil still brewing inside you. “Alright, everyone, we’ve got a missing boy out there, and time is against us. We’ll get more information as we land.”

You snapped the case file shut and looked up at your team, your voice firm. “Wheels up in 30.”

The team dispersed quickly, heading off to gather their gear and finalize last-minute preparations. You lingered behind for a moment, watching the case photos flicker on the screen. Your heart was still heavy from earlier, but you had a job to do. No distractions. No room for the past.

Focus, keep moving, you told yourself, even though the image of Hotch’s face still lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't afford to spare him another thought.

The case had been wrapped up with surprising speed, and the flight back to Quantico was a welcome relief. You settled into your seat, the hum of the plane a calming reminder of the good you and the team had done today. You felt the exhaustion seep into your bones as the plane roared into the sky. The hum of the engines and the rhythmic sound of the wings provided a backdrop, but you couldn't shake the tumult of emotions swirling within you.

As you glanced around the cabin, you noticed that everyone else was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the long days evident on their faces. Emily’s head rested against JJ’s shoulder, and Spencer was curled up in his seat with a book laid open in his lap, the pages fluttering slightly with the plane’s movement. Luke, too, was snoring softly on the couch, a slight smile on his lips as he pulled the blanket tighter around him. They all looked so peaceful.

But your mind was far from peaceful.

You leaned back in your seat, your thoughts racing back to Hotch’s announcement. You had tried to compartmentalize your feelings during the case, focusing solely on finding Ethan. But now, with the rush of adrenaline faded and the quiet of the plane surrounding you, the weight of it all crashed back in.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, pulling you from your thoughts. Rossi had moved to sit across from you, concern etched into his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”

Before you could filter your thoughts, the words slipped out. “Did you know?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Yes, he called me last week to let me know.”

Your heart raced at the revelation. “He called you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your words came out as a hushed hiss. Rossi knew you hadn't meant it like that, but your frustration of how everything had panned out had never really gone away. He understood why you were feeling like you did.

Rossi leaned back in his seat, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he took in your features. “I didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. I thought you’d hear about it when he officially announced it. I thought maybe he'd even reach out himself” Rossi knew Hotch wouldn't reach out to you, even if his life depended on it. He was a proud man, and even if he had been willing to admit his wrongs, he was too scared to face you and realize just how big of a mistake this truly had been.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But why, Rossi? Why would he do this? He had a life with us — his life in the BAU, with Jack, with me. And now he’s just… gone.”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” he replied softly. “But running for Congress might be a way for him to contribute on a larger scale. He wants to help people, to make a difference, just like he did with us. This was a chance for him to step into a role where he could have an even bigger impact than what he had in the bureau. Who knows, maybe we'll see him around someday.”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill again. “But he didn’t even talk to me about it. It’s like he just vanished. I thought we had something, and then he just left. I felt so abandoned.”

Rossi’s expression turned serious. “You know how Hotch is. He’s always been someone who puts others before himself, even at the cost of his own happiness. I think he truly believes this is what’s best for Jack and for himself. It doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you. In fact, I know he cared deeply about you. It just means he’s trying to figure things out in his own way.”

“But what about me?” You whispered, your voice trembling. “I was left behind, and now I’m still here, trying to navigate everything without him.”

Rossi said your name, leaning forward, his eyes softening. It wasn't as much a reprimand, as it was him trying to stop your spiraling thoughts. You both knew it did you no good. Especially not if the rumors were true and Emily was in line for the open position of Section Chief. Both of you knew what that would mean for you. “He made a choice, yes, but it doesn’t erase what you two had. If anything, it highlights how much he valued that relationship. He wouldn’t have just walked away without thinking it through, even if it seems that way.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find your footing amidst the emotional turmoil. “I just don’t know how to deal with all of this. It feels so final, so absolute. I thought I was ready to move on, but seeing him on TV...”

Rossi reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be confused. But remember, you’re still part of this team, and we’re here for you, no matter what. You’re not alone in this. You never will be.”

You nodded slowly, his words providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos in your heart. “Thanks, Rossi. I appreciate it. I just wish things were different.”

He gave you an understanding smile. “So do I. But whatever happens next, we’ll face it together. And if you need to talk about Hotch, I’m here to listen. Just know that he still cares, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.” You knew he was right.

As you both fell into a comfortable silence, you felt a little weight lift from your chest. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but you had the support of your team. And that was a start.

Weeks drifted by like the clouds hanging in the sky, each day seemingly blending into the next. Hotch’s face became a fixture on the television, the cadence of his voice echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. News reports came almost daily, showcasing him speaking passionately about his vision for change, the values he held dear, and the policies he aimed to implement if elected. The topics ranged from community safety to education reform, and while many praised his ideals, you found yourself seething each time his image flickered across the screen.

He still hadn't contacted you yet.

At first, you tried to engage with the reports, focusing on the substance of his speeches, realizing that despite everything he's policies aligned with your values too, but as each new broadcast emerged, anger simmered beneath the surface. It was infuriating to watch the man you loved stand there, poised and confident — visiting schools, nursery homes, community centers, and everything in between — while you were left with nothing but fragments of the life you had once envisioned together. He seemed so distant, a stranger now, embodying everything you once admired but now felt betrayed by.

Each time you heard his voice, the way he articulated his beliefs with the conviction that had once made your heart race, you locked yourself in your office for the remainder of the day, drowning out the world with your frustration and sorrow. Your colleagues exchanged worried glances as you retreated, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. They didn’t know the depth of your pain, the feeling of abandonment that clawed at your insides. And you weren't ready for them to know.

On one particularly long evening, the office was silent, the usual buzz of activity having died down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across your workspace. You sat alone at your desk, the glow of your computer screen the only light illuminating the room. Your heart felt heavy, the emotional burden weighing on you like a thick blanket.

As the clock ticked away, you absentmindedly pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photos. You found it — the last picture you had taken with Hotch and Jack. You hadn't meant to look for it, but something within you had drawn your mind to that particular folder with pictures you never quite had the strength to transfer out of your phone. In the picture, the three of you stood in the park, sunlight filtering through the trees, laughter frozen in time. Hotch’s arm was around you, a protective and loving gesture, while Jack beamed in front of you, holding his soccer ball in his hands, all youthful energy and innocence.

You stared at the image, the way Hotch’s eyes crinkled at the edges with genuine joy, contrasting sharply with the turmoil roiling in your chest. A single tear slid down your cheek, carving a path through the haze of anger and hurt.

“Jack,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the office. He must be close to 18 now. The thought struck you like a lightning bolt. Time had slipped by so swiftly, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of young man he had become. Had Hotch been there for him? Had he taken the time to show his son what love was? Did they share the same laughter you once did, or had the weight of their decisions overshadowed those moments?

You closed your eyes, allowing your mind to drift back to memories of Jack — the way his laughter filled the room, his playful spirit that lit up the darkest days. The action figures scattered all over your apartment. You remembered the way he would come running into your arms when you stayed over for the weekend, his small frame clinging to you like you were the safest place in the world. You had cherished those moments, and now they felt like distant echoes, fading into the background of your life.

The thought of him growing up without you, of Hotch and Jack creating a new life that you weren’t a part of, twisted in your gut. The anger that had bubbled beneath the surface surged forth again, but this time, it mingled with an overwhelming sense of grief and longing. You felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their lives, watching from afar as they moved on, while you were trapped in a limbo of unresolved feelings.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped the tear from your cheek and opened your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this. You couldn’t let him keep affecting you from a distance, even if it meant facing the truth of your feelings. You needed to regain control, to reclaim your narrative, whatever that might look like.

As you set the phone down, determination coursed through you. You would find a way to confront the anger and pain, to redefine your path without him. But the journey would be a challenge — one you weren’t entirely ready to take, yet knew you had to face.

With a heavy sigh, you stood, ready to leave the remnants of that day behind. You took one last look at the photo on your phone, whispering softly, “I hope you’re happy, Hotch. I really do.”

And with that, you stepped out of the office, leaving for the night, leaving the memories behind, but carrying them with you as you prepared for whatever came next.

A couple of days passed since that late night in your office, the echo of memories lingering like a haunting refrain. You had spent the time focusing on work, throwing yourself into cases, and helping your team. It was a temporary distraction, but every time you caught sight of a news segment featuring Hotch, you felt that familiar ache in your chest. Each broadcast, showcasing his polished demeanor and political aspirations, only stoked the embers of frustration and longing buried deep within you.

Then, one afternoon, as you sat at your desk, your phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number. Your heart raced with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as you opened the text:

“Hey! It’s Jack..... I don't know if you remember me. I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I’d love to see you. We're back in Virginia again. I miss you and wanted to ask if you’d meet with me. Sorry if this is weird, but I hope you’re okay.”

Your breath caught in your throat. It was Jack. After all these years, he was reaching out. The memories of his laughter and bright smile flooded back, bringing with them a rush of warmth and bittersweet nostalgia. Without a second thought, you quickly typed out your response.

“Hi, Jack! It’s great to hear from you. I’d love to meet. How about we catch up at the café near the Academy?”

You hit send and felt a wave of nervous excitement wash over you, followed closely by a rush of trepidation. What would he look like? Would he be the same boy you remembered, or had he transformed into someone else entirely different? The thought churned in your stomach as you anxiously awaited his reply.

The day of the meeting arrived, and as you approached the café, your heart raced with anticipation. The small establishment was bustling with life, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries. You stepped inside, scanning the room until your eyes landed on him.

Jack sat at a table in the corner, his back to you, and you felt a jolt of recognition. He had grown into a young man, tall and confident, with his hair still matching Haley's, his eyes brighter than ever. But it was the way he carried himself that struck you most — he exuded a maturity that seemed to echo Hotch’s stoic demeanor, yet there was a warmth about him that was uniquely his own. Jack was much more like his mother than he would ever realize.

As he turned to look at you, a broad smile broke across his face, and your heart swelled at the sight. He stood, and for a moment, it felt like time had collapsed, erasing the years that had separated you. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him, and he embraced you tightly, a mix of nostalgia and warmth flooding over you both.

“Jack,” you whispered, stepping back to get a better look at him. “You’ve grown up so much.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what happens when you turn eighteen,” he replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. You were surprised by how deep his voice had gotten, still recalling the sweet sounds of the 11-year-old boy who had gone into witness protection.

You both settled into your seats, and the initial rush of excitement settled into a comfortable rhythm as you sipped your coffees. “How have you been?” you asked, genuine curiosity etched in your voice.

Jack hesitated, his expression growing serious. “It’s been tough since… since everything that happened. After we left witness protection, it was just Dad and me. We moved a lot at first but eventually settled down in Chicago. Dad tried his best, but it wasn’t easy.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I can only imagine. How is he doing?”

Jack shrugged, glancing down at his cup. “He’s okay, I guess." He mumbled. "He doesn’t talk about you much, I don't think he can bring himself to let the memories resurface. But I can tell he misses you a lot. He still has all the pictures of us together. Sometimes, I catch him looking at them when he thinks I’m not paying attention.” His voice was thick with emotion, and you felt your heartache further.

Had Hotch been as miserable as you?

“I missed you both too,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I don't know if I can bring myself to keep holding on to the past. Not as long as Hotch hasn’t reached out to me, I’m probably not going to contact him. At least not for my own well-being.” You sighed, knowing it was the right decision, but still beating yourself up for listening to your sensibility.

Jack’s gaze met yours, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “I get it. I just wanted to see you after all this time. You were like a mother to me after Mom…” His voice trailed off, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. You wondered if Hotch had ever talked about Haley, talked about what had happened to his mother, if Jack had ever gotten any answers?

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I wish I could have been there for you both. I loved you both so much.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And that’s why I wanted to meet. I just—” he paused, searching for the right words. “I needed to know if you were okay. It’s been a long time, and you were always there for me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mixture of sorrow and relief washing over you. “I’ve missed you more than I can say. You were such a bright light in my life, Jack. It’s been hard without you both.”

The conversation flowed naturally, filled with shared memories and the weight of unspoken emotions. You listened as Jack talked about his life since Hotch had stepped into the world of politics — his own struggles, school, feeling like his friends didn't know the real him, the challenges of growing up without a mother, and the bond he still cherished with his father. It felt like they never left.

“I think Dad thought he was protecting me by not talking about you. But I needed to know about you, how you were doing. I needed to know you were okay.” He confessed, his eyes earnest. “He was always so focused on keeping me safe that he didn’t realize how much I missed you. How much he missed you.”

The warmth of Jack’s words wrapped around you, reassuring you that your bond hadn’t faded, even in the years apart. You shared stories, laughing softly at the memories of days long gone. The sun filtered through the café windows, casting a golden glow over the two of you, illuminating the path of healing you both needed.

As the café buzzed around you, it felt like a sanctuary, a safe space where the past and present intertwined, reminding you of the love that had once filled your life. This was a step forward, a chance to heal the wounds that had lingered for too long.

In that moment, sitting across from Jack, you realized that while the scars of the past might never fully fade, the possibility of rebuilding a future was within reach. Maybe not with Hotch, but potentially regain contact and a relationship with Jack.

“Let’s not let this much time pass before we see each other again,” you suggested, your heart lifting at the idea of keeping this connection alive.

“Definitely. You can count on it,” Jack promised, and as you both exchanged a smile, the weight of your shared history felt a little lighter, the hope for what was to come a little brighter.

The sun streamed through the windows of your office, casting a gentle glow on the stacks of case files and the photographs of the BAU team adorning your walls. You leaned back in your chair, still buzzing from your meeting with Jack, your heart lighter after the emotional reunion. The warmth of yesterday's trip to the café lingered in your mind, a comfort amidst the chaotic world of profiling and criminal behavior.

Just as you began to focus on the case at hand, there was a soft knock on your door. You looked up to see Emily stepping in, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey,” she said, her tone catching your attention. “I just got off the phone with the Director. He wants the BAU to assist with a case involving a politician in Congress.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Congress, knowing potentially what that could mean, and you held your breath, bracing for the inevitable connection. “Do they have any details yet?”

Emily nodded, her eyes searching yours. “Not much. It seems there’s been some suspicious activity surrounding him, but the Director wanted us to prioritize this. I thought I should let you know, especially given the possibility of running into Hotch.”

You felt a pang in your chest at the mention of his name, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “So, we’re not profiling Hotch, then?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady with a joke, masking the swirl of emotions rising within you.

“No, he’s not involved at all with this case actually,” Emily clarified, crossing her arms. “But with him being in the spotlight, there’s a chance we might see him around, especially if the investigation takes us to other parts of D.C. or if he’s involved in any press events while we're at Congress.”

You nodded, absorbing the information. “Right. I guess I should prepare myself for that possibility.” Your heart raced at the thought, the image of him on the television still fresh in your mind. The last few weeks of seeing him on the news had stirred up a mix of longing and unresolved feelings, and now the idea of encountering him face-to-face was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Are you okay with this?” Emily asked, her gaze softening with concern. “I know seeing him might bring up some stuff.”

You took a deep breath, weighing your emotions. “I’ll be fine. I have to be. We have a job to do, and I can’t let my feelings get in the way of that.” You tried to sound confident, but uncertainty crept in.

Emily smiled, a mix of support and understanding shining in her eyes. “I know you’re strong. Just remember, we’re in this together. And if it gets overwhelming, I’m right here.”

“Thanks, Em. I appreciate that.” You felt a swell of gratitude for her unwavering support. “Let’s get the team together and see what we can dig up on this case.”

Emily nodded, pushing herself up from the chair. “I’ll gather everyone for a briefing. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

As she left your office, you couldn’t shake the feeling of impending change in the air. The thought of the case intertwined with the possibility of seeing Hotch again sent your mind racing. There was a part of you that yearned to see him, to hear his voice again, but another part was afraid of what it might mean for the rehabilitation of your heart shattered.

After a few moments, you collected yourself and headed to the conference room, determined to focus on the task ahead. You were a profiler, after all, and you wouldn’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment. But as you stepped into the room and looked at your team, the looming presence of Hotch hung over you like a shadow.

The bustling atmosphere of Congress was overwhelming, the echo of voices mingling with the rustle of papers and the faint sounds of distant conversations, as crowds of people moved past you every single second. Somehow you hadn't thought the building would be this busy.

You moved through the maze of hallways, the weight of the case hanging over you like a heavy cloud. After an intense briefing with the team and several hours of sifting through documents, you decided a quick coffee break was necessary. It was a small reprieve, a moment to gather your thoughts before diving back into the investigation.

As you stepped into the crowded café, the rich aroma of coffee filled your senses, providing a brief comfort. As you waited for your order you glanced around, noting the throngs of aides and politicians, some deep in conversation, others lost in their phones. After what felt like an eternity, you finally received your drink, you ordered a cappuccino, absently stirring the foam as you made your way back toward the senator’s office.

Navigating the marble corridors was not easy, you focused, trying to remember the way you had come from. The noise of the café faded behind you as you moved further away, and the hum of energy around you began to fade as you thought about the case details you had just discussed with your team. But as you rounded a corner, lost in thought, everything changed in an instant.

There, just a few feet away, stood Aaron Hotchner. Your Aaron.

Time seemed to freeze. The world around you faded into a blur, and all you could see was him. He looked older nothing like he had looked on the TV, more refined, better even, yet he still carried that familiar intensity in his dark eyes. It was as if the years had melted away, and you were right back to those last moments before he disappeared from your life. Your heart raced, the mix of emotions overwhelming as you locked eyes with him.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved, caught in an electric silence that stretched between you. The familiar ache of longing hit you hard in the chest, twisting your stomach into knots. Memories rushed back — laughter, warmth, the comfort of his presence — but so did the pain of his absence and the betrayal you felt when he left.

In your shock, you didn’t realize your hand had loosened its grip on the coffee cup until it slipped from your fingers. The porcelain collided with the polished floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The hot liquid spilled out, soaking into the pristine marble and staining the floor with brown patches.

“Oh God,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You stepped back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.

Hotch said your name, his voice low and steady, yet laced with an emotion that mirrored your own shock. He took a cautious step toward you, as if afraid you might disappear again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” you managed, your voice trembling as you fought to regain your composure. But the words felt inadequate, too mundane for the weight of the moment. A wave of emotion crashed over you, and the dam holding back your feelings began to crumble. “Do you even realize what you put me through, Aaron? Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if you were dead or alive? How many times I replayed those last moments in my mind, wishing I could have changed things?”

Hotch’s expression shifted, pain flashing across his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for Jack!”

“Best for Jack?” you repeated incredulously, your voice rising with each word. “What about me? What about my feelings? You just left! You abandoned me without so much as a goodbye! I had to rebuild my life without you, and all you can say is you were trying to protect him. It doesn’t make any sense!”

He took a step forward, frustration mingling with sadness in his eyes. “I had no choice! I had to keep you both safe! Do you really think I wanted to leave you behind? You think it was easy for me? It wasn’t! I’ve thought about you every single day!”

The sincerity in his voice pierced through your anger, but you couldn’t let it go. “It’s too little, too late, Aaron! You can’t just show up out of nowhere after six years and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice!”

“I never stopped loving you!” he shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion. The admission hung between you, heavy and charged, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You stepped closer, eyes locked onto his, fueled by a mix of anger and disbelief. “How can you say that? You left me! You made a choice, and you chose to protect your son over me. I had to learn to live with that — learn to live without you!”

“And it killed me! I had to protect my family, and in doing so, I destroyed my own happiness. But you have to know, you were always in my heart. I never wanted to hurt you!” His voice softened slightly, the intensity shifting to desperation. “I thought you’d move on, that you’d find someone better who could give you what you deserve.”

“Better?” you scoffed, your anger giving way to an ache in your chest. “You think I wanted anyone else? No one could ever compare to you, Aaron. I spent years waiting for you, hoping you’d come back, that we could fix this.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Then why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“Because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me!” You shot back, tears of frustration burning your eyes. “I had to respect your choice, but I thought you’d at least have the decency to contact me after everything we went through together!”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger! I thought it was for the best!” His voice rose again, echoing through the hallway, but there was a desperate plea beneath his anger.

“Best for who, Aaron?” you demanded, your emotions spilling over. “You think running for Congress is going to fix everything? You think I want to see you on TV every day, talking about policies and values when all I want is to talk to you about us?”

Before you could finish your thought, he closed the gap between you in an instant, grasping your arms gently but firmly. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and then he kissed you. It was a collision of pent-up emotions, a heated, desperate kiss that spoke of everything unsaid. Your lips pressed against his, teeth grazing against teeth, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

You lost yourself in the kiss, a whirlwind of anger, longing, and the familiar warmth that had always existed between you. It felt like no time had passed at all, yet every moment you had spent apart surged back, filling the space with an urgency you hadn’t felt in years.

Without breaking the kiss, you found yourselves moving, bodies instinctively drawn toward his office down the hall, Hotch leading the way. The door stood ajar, but you barely registered it as you stumbled inside, Hotch pulling you in after him. He nudged the door shut with his foot, the soft click of the latch echoing in the silence as he pressed you against it.

You barely noticed the cluttered desk or the framed photographs lining the walls. All that mattered was the heat radiating from him, the way his hands cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. He kissed you again, deeper this time, a fierce claim that made your heart race.

With each touch, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, leaving only the intoxicating rush of being so close again. You could feel the weight of his desperation, the years of longing that had built up between you, igniting a fire within you that had never truly gone out.

Finally, as you both breathed heavily against each other, he stepped back slightly, just enough to turn the lock behind him. The finality of the action made your heart pound even harder, the implications of this moment crashing down around you.

Before you knew it, Hotch crashed his lips into yours once again.

“Goddamn it, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered into your neck, as he moved his hand under your skirt, you could feel his smirk against your skin. He was kissing you again, his fingers sliding up your body until they reached your breasts. You arched back into him with a soft sigh of pleasure, your hips rolling against his growing erection. You could feel how much he wanted you and it made you even more desperate for him.

You broke away from the kiss, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck me,” you said your voice sounded rough, still thick with lust from the kiss. You could see the flicker of pleasure that danced across his face, the fire burning in his eyes when he heard your words.

He didn’t speak though, he just pushed you back against his desk and as your ass met the wooden edge he lifted you up onto it by your things. The movement made your skirt ride up further, you tried to pull it back down out of instinct, but Hotch stopped you with a firm grip on your wrist. You gasped when his hands moved to grab the edge of your panties as he ripped them off. That had always been his favorite thing to do. Nothing had changed.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he had two fingers buried deep inside your cunt. “Fuck,” you hissed against his lips. He added a third finger and you gasped, your nails clawing into his back as you braced yourself, pleasure radiating through your body. You were already close to coming, desperate from the lack of a man's touch, he’d only been fingering you for a few seconds, but it was a much-needed release that you hadn't realized you had needed. He was determined to make you cum, was going to make you cum in his office, on his desk. You truly hoped that his door was locked.

Hotch leaned in and kissed you again, sucking at your bottom lip and then moving down to your neck. He bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you moaned in response. Your legs spread around him and he groaned as you rocked your hips against his hand, trying so desperately to chase your release.

“Fuck, I need to get inside you,” he muttered against your skin. "I need to feel that pussy again. My pussy." He growled.

You felt a shiver run through your body at his words. “Please,” you begged, “now.”

You didn’t know if you unbuttoned his pants or he did, but somehow they were already around his ankles and he was pushing into you. His cock pulsed as he bottomed out, clouding your vision with the pure bliss from finally feeling him again. You let out a breathless moan as he stretched you out. It had been way too long since you'd felt the touch of a man you thought. His touch. Your hands slid down his back trying to pull him closer in an attempt to push him deeper inside of you. He groaned as he started to thrust into you. You felt every ridge of his cock as he moved.

The rhythm was hard and fast, your skin slapping together in loud claps. Your pussy was dripping, slick with wetness, your muscles clenching around him with every thrust as if you were trying to lock him in place inside your heat. You cried out when he pushed you down flat on his desk, his arms wrapped around your body as he started fucking you with the raw essence of an animal. The pleasure ran through your head and you nearly came right there.

Hotch grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. “You’re going to cum on my cock, aren’t you?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed, trying to move your hips under him. Your teeth gritted, eyes rolling back into your head as your breathing sped up, almost hyperventilating from the immense pleasure.

“You like being fucked on my desk, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you moaned.

He slammed into you and then stilled. You whined in frustration as he held still inside of you. “Tell me. Use your words!”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, hoping it would get him to start moving again. It worked like a charm and he quickly slammed into you once more before fucking you into oblivion again. Hotch hit your G-spot with every thrust, you could feel your orgasm building up inside, the knot tightening, dangerously close to snapping in half. You felt him swell inside of you, his cock pushing into you harder and faster than before, as his thighs started vibration, you knew he was close too.

He leaned down over you and kissed you as you came. He swallowed down your cries as his hips stuttered. His cock felt like it was going to split you in half, but it felt so good as it sent you into a new level of pleasure. He came hard, hot liquid filling you up, you clung to his shoulders and cried out again as he groaned into your mouth.

Hotch pulled away slowly, his breath ragged as he held you close for a moment longer. The heat of the moment lingered in the air, but as he took a step back, you felt the loss of his warmth immediately. He gently helped you shift into a sitting position on the edge of his desk, his hands steadying you as you settled.

He moved to stand between your legs, the space filled with unspoken words and the weight of years apart. His eyes searched yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart flutter. Hotch cupped your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. The intimacy of the gesture, so simple yet so profound, stirred something deep within you. It felt as though he had never left, as if no time had passed at all since that fateful day in his office so many years ago where he had just been... gone.

He pressed tender kisses to your lips, each one a promise, a reassurance that this moment was real. You leaned into him, surrendering to the familiar comfort of his presence as you wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head against his chest. You let the tears that had been building up finally spill over. They rolled down your cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the heat that still pulsed between you.

“I… I met up with Jack,” you admitted your voice barely above a whisper, laden with emotion. The moment hung heavy in the air. You could see the flicker of surprise in Hotch’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “He’s grown up so much. He’s… he's an adult now.”

Hotch’s expression softened, a mix of pride and sadness flickering across his features. “He’s always been a remarkable kid,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m glad you two were able to reconnect.”

“I missed you both so much,” you confessed, the weight of your words crashing over you like a wave. The years of longing, the nights spent wondering about him and Jack, came rushing back. “It’s been so hard, Aaron. Watching you on TV, hearing you talk about your values and the future... all I wanted was to be a part of that future again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know. I wanted to reach out so many times, but I didn’t know if I was worth it to you. I thought you’d moved on. Didn't want to disrupt your life.”

You shook your head, a mix of determination and vulnerability surging within you. “I never moved on. I just learned to live without you. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Hotch stepped closer again, his hands still cradling your face as if he were afraid you might disappear. “Then let’s try again,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice melting the last remnants of doubt lingering in your heart. “Let’s see if we can make this work, for us and for Jack.”

You swallowed hard, hope igniting within you like a flame. “I want that,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your tears. “I really want that.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours once more, the kiss gentle but filled with an undercurrent of promise. It was a reaffirmation of everything you both had lost and everything you hoped to regain. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the world outside, you felt a sense of peace and belonging you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with determination. “We’ll figure this out together.”

With your heart full and tears still glistening in your eyes, you nodded. For the first time in years, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. The future ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time, it was a future you were excited to face — together.

@vikingstoner69

610 notes · View notes

hypnos333 · 1 year ago

Text

Slowed to Anger

Alastor x reader

Synopsis: You loved the hotel and yet you risked your life for it

“Omg! Alaster I can’t believe you’re doing this and it looks so nice, I can’t wait to decorate” You gushed looking everywhere around the hotel making him chuckle.

“I’m glad you find this Journey to find this exciting my dear, I wish I could say the same but i’m stuck on a leash” Alaster sigh still smiling but with a broken one. You wrap your arms around his neck forcing him to wrap his around your waist.

“We’ll break this deal so we can go back to living happily together” You said kissing his temple as he closed his eyes as your kisses. “We have been married for decades it’s nothing we can’t handle My love” You continued saying.

Little did you know this was gonna be very different from those decades.

A war broke out between heaven and hell and you were against Lute and keep in mind you weren’t the best in combat nor fighting but you did have powers and you were gonna try your best to survive for Alastor.

You are a doe it made you fast but you felt like a prey everywhere and every time.

You created multiple shadows to corner Lute making her struggle until she actually stabbed you making clueless before looking down at your heart.

“Oh fucking hell” You whispered until your eyes went wide realizing what’s happening. You held onto the sword before Lute pulled it out of you before this time stabbing you in the stomach making you instantly let the life leave from inside of you.

Lute was about to check your pulse until a shadow elopes you making you disappear within an instant.

“M-My dear?” He asked hesitantly in horror seeing you gone and dead. He quickly held you into his arms rocking back in forth trying to heal you he couldn’t because he was trapped.

“No, No No No No NO NONONONONO” He yells out his smile vanished as tears leaked down his face and onto your body.

“This place reeks of death, there's a chill in the air

And I barely escaped being killed by a hair

My wife risked her life just to see the hotel thrive

"Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends while wife takes the fall"

Sorry to disappoint, that is not where this ends

I'm hungry for freedom like never before

The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor

Once I figure out how to unclip my wings

Guess who will be pulling all the strings?” He sang before hiding your body somewhere safe to keep so when he gets your soul, you can come back home to him just like you wanted to do.

#alastor x demon reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor imagine

1K notes · View notes

satorusugurugurl · 6 months ago

Note

i love everything you write like i wake up just to read them over and over again. could i request some more angst to smut please (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

JJK Men: Going from angsty to smutty!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fighting, yelling, curing, smut, unprotected smut, creampies, dirty talk, making up, mentions of blood and death (Suguru’s) spitting daddy!kink, oral sex, male receiving

Word Count: 8,140 (oops)

A/N: HI Nonnie thank you for the request!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff!! I had a lot of fun with these! I hope you enjoy! Love u! 💚💚💚

Nanami Kento:

Nanami Kento was leaving you again.

He left you once after you graduated high school, giving up the Jujutsu world for his salary job. That nearly destroyed you. You begged him to stay, but once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he left and was gone for four years. Until one day, he called Gojo, telling him he wanted back in.

Of course, you were happy to see him back, but you were hesitant to get close to him again. But fate had other plans for you. Everywhere you went, he was always there. Whether you were getting drinks at the vending machines, in the break room, walking around school, or grabbing drinks with your coworkers and friends afterward. He'd always give you a sweet smile and motion to a spot next to him, to which you would refuse until you drunkenly made the mistake of stumbling over to him one night.

He looked so handsome, his hair pushed back, tie discarded, and top buttons undone on his dress shirt. Watching him chug down his beer with a slight flush dusting his cheeks made you feel stupid emotions like longing, lust, happiness, and hopefulness. Maybe if you were to open the door to a relationship with him, it would work out. Both of you have matured so much over the years. Maybe if you gave it another shot, it would work this time.

The night you threw your arms around him after downing a ton of shots to give you the liquid courage even to approach him, he was kind enough to make sure he drank water, took you, and told you you would discuss it in the morning when you woke up the next day with the pounding headache, Nanami was there with aspirin and a water bottle. Even without the alcohol, you were able to tell him that you missed him; you missed the two of you together.

And Nanami felt the same.

That morning led to make-up sex and the beginning of your relationship for a second time—one stronger than the first, built on truth and trust. You never kept anything from each other, always being honest about how you felt and what you wanted in the future. Life had been great until he took you to dinner one late fall evening.

“I’m leaving for Malaysia in a month.” His words felt like he’d stuck red hot needles into your lungs, making breathing hard as your fork fell out of your hand, clanking against your plate. “I bought a property on the beach and will build a house there.”

“Y-You—you’re leaving?”

“Yes, I finally have enough money saved up that I can leave this place, not have to work, and spend the rest of my days reading the books I haven’t gotten a chance to— .”

Your timid voice interrupted him. “You’re leaving me?”

“Darling, it’s not—”

You grabbed your phone, fighting against the burning sting in your eyes. “No, it is.” You were not going to cry, not in front of him. “You’re leaving me again, Kento.” You shook your head, running your hand down your face with a pained laugh. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Without another word, you stormed out of the lounge room, your heart breaking with every step you took.

It felt like the walls around you were closing in on you. Your chest felt tight as you took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm yourself down, as tears finally breached the wall you had put up around yourself. The instant those tears ran down your cheeks, your momentum faltered, the stride you had crashing down. You fell to your knees, gripping at your chest as the future you pictured with Nanami slipped away like a film strip burning after too much use.

He always thought about leaving, building a house on the beach somewhere. It was never about the two of you leaving together. Never ‘we’re’ going to build a house. ‘We’re’ going to live in Malaysia. It was always him. And you thought since you both matured, things would be different; maybe since you were sleeping together and you were supposedly in love, he would take you with him next time. Of course, that was a moronic and naïve thought.

You were losing him all over again.

When you finally came to your senses, you hurried back to your apartment. You tried making dinner, watching a movie, doing anything to distract yourself from the pain that had settled in your heart. But anytime a second passed when you weren't busy, moving, or thinking, Nanami’s words whispered in the depths of your mind.

How could he just up and leave you like this again?! It hurt so bad; it was almost soul-crushing. After all the plans you had made, like getting married when you retired, and the places you'd see. All those plans were suddenly garbage because he could finally live out his dreams. Dreams that you should be happy about! You didn’t want your boyfriend to continue to suffer in a job he disliked, constantly working overtime, wasting his life away.

What hurt the most was that he didn't even ask if you wanted to come with him!

The hurt slowly turned into rage, so hot and heavy that you didn't hear the door to the apartment creak open. Nor did you hear said boyfriend's keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table. You did, however, feel his hand gently grabbing your shoulders. To which you pulled away.

“Don't fucking touch me!” You barked out, whirling around, jabbing your finger into his chest. “I don't fucking want you touching me!”

Nanami winced at the pain in your voice, hurrying after you as you stormed towards the bedroom. “Love, please stop.” Nothing was said as you threw the covers back on your bed. “Please let me talk to you. Let's have an actual conversation like adults instead of children!” Frustration and anger were evident in his voice, emotions that only seemed to fan the flames of your anger.

“Are you insinuating that I—” you pointed to yourself, “am acting like a child?”

“When you refuse to speak to me, yes.” you laugh. It's cold and void of joy as you place your hands on your hips.

“You wanna talk?! Fine, let’s fuckin’ talk!” You toss the throw pillows to the ground with an anger that could fuel a bonfire. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me again!”

Nanami’s honey-brown eyes followed each pillow that slammed into the ground with a force that made him cringe. “Who said I was leaving you?” He cocked a brow in your direction as you crawled into bed, fluffing your pillows.

“You said ‘you’ were leaving for Malaysia, that ‘you’ we’re going to build ‘your’ house on the beach. So excuse me, you made it very clear that you are leaving.”

“I am—” You open your mouth to tell him you were right that you knew that already, but he held a hand up in front of him, ceasing your interjection. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Oh, please don’t treat me like I’m some item you forgot to pack! You told me it was your house, books, everything!”

Without so much as a word, your boyfriend stalked over to the bed, reaching into the suit jacket. You watched with rage-filled eyes as he handed you an envelope. Nanami didn’t say where you snatched the envelope out of his hands. Opening it up, you found two one-way tickets to Malaysia. One had your boyfriend‘s name on it, while the other had yours.

You found yourself staring at the tickets as if you stared long enough; you would somehow get the answers to the questions running through your head. It isn’t until the bed dips under Nanami’s weight that you finally look up at him. His eyes held no malice or anger; they drifted from the envelope before slowly meeting your confused gaze.

“I could have started the conversation out better. But you ran off before I could finish.” He took your hand in his, thumb gently stroking the side of your thumb. “Yes, I bought a property out in Malaysia. I plan on building a house on the beach, filling it with all the books I haven’t read.” He squeezed your hand. “But that house will never be a home without you in it. I want you to come with me; I promise I will take such good care of you.”

“Y-You want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do; I left you once, and that almost ruined us completely. Do you honestly think I would ever put us at risk like that again?” Big tears welled over your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; please come with me.”

Nanami’s thumb gently brushed your tears away. His smile was gentle and warm, and you hiccuped, nodding your head in agreement. “Y-Yes, Kento, I would love to go with you!” He grinned, excitement in every part of his features, as he pulled you and kissed you deeply.

It was the kind of kiss that lasted a lifetime, conveying how sorry you were for the misunderstanding. A kiss that had started very soft and sweet before it turned into something more desperate and hungry. A kiss that had you shoving your boyfriend back against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nanami asked with curious eyes as you unbuckled his belt.

“Shh, relax.”

Nanami had been confused at first, but all his questions were answered several minutes later as you bobbed up and down his thick girthy cock. His hand fisted your hair as he watched as tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. Each time you went down, he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, which in turn made you gag, coating his cock in more of a slick combination of your saliva and his pre-cum.

You were so beautiful, stunning, sucking his cock down eagerly. You gag, eyes flooding with tears as he looks down at you, grunting as his eyes shut. His hand gently strokes your hair, collecting it in a makeshift ponytail. You hummed happily, looking into his narrow eyes before he shoved you down until your nose brushed over his trimmed pubes.

“Look at my lover~ such a good girl making me feel good.” He shivers as you moan around him. “Fuck darling, yes~ just like that~ swallow my cock like a good girl.” He sighs out, his hips gently bucking up into your mouth. “Soo good~ all because I’m taking her to Malaysia where she won’t have to worry about working again.” There was something in his words that had you shuddering as you dipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts. “Ooh? Do you like the idea of me taking care of you? Spoiling you rotten for all time?” The only response Nanami gets in return from you is the way you eagerly swirl your tongue around his cock. “Ahh, atta girl~ using her tongue to tell me.”

You planned to show him how much you appreciated him in many more ways. For now, this would do. Nanami held a firm grip on your hair as you bobbed faster, your hands reaching down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tight. Your sweet, considerate moans had him groaning into his hand, head falling back as you deep throat him. Making sure he knew how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him spoiling you and making sure neither of you had to deal with the mundane lives of the working force.

“Haaah yes~ fuck suck it~”

His dirty words have you rubbing yourself harder as you do as he commands. “mhmm!”

“That’s it~ good girl fuck are you gonna swallow it? Swallow all of my seed down your throat?”

You take more of him down your throat than you do. “Nngh!” Nanami chuckles, wrapping his hand around your hair as if it were his tie, forcing you down before yanking you back up and pushing you down again.

“Good girl, be sure to swallow every drop, and I’ll reward you.”

He’s thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth face fucking you as hard as he possibly can. You do your best to relax your throat, but drool seeps out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. As Nanami focuses his attention on the tears that prick your eyes, you struggle to take him down further. It’s the struggling, effort, and the way you’re gagging and moaning around his thick, hard cock that in him tumbling over the edge of sweet release.

“Nngh fuck~! Fuuuck yes, swallow, swallow every last drop of it, and don’t let it spill out.” Your boyfriend growls as he continues, holding your head in place as he continues fucking into your mouth. “Yes~! Yes fuck!”

His cum is thick and hot, slowly sliding down your throat as you stare up at him. Admiring the flush that dances over his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. His face is scrunched up with pleasure as the waves of pleasure roll through him, leaving you wet and ready. Your clit twitched under your finger pads as Nanami pulled you off of his cock. You waited for him to lift you by your hair, bringing you close to his face. What you hadn’t been anticipating was for him to shove you down against the floor while he did his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

“K-Kento—ooh!” You yelp as he forces your legs apart with both his hands, spreading them wide for him. “Whoa! Holy shit!”

“I’m going to make up for upsetting you.” He whispered, grabbing your shorts, yanking them down your legs, and throwing them behind him. “By making you squirt on my tongue.”

As Nanami trailed kisses up your thighs, you shuddered against the cool wooden floor, imagining if this was the same way he’d spoiled you when you were in Malaysia; instead of being on the floor, he would be on the sand at the beach. Maybe some fights and misunderstandings were worth having. You screamed out as Nanami took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Fuck, some fights were totally worth having!!

Geto Suguru:

“Suguru—” you whisper as your boyfriend grabs his bags, not stopping to look over his shoulder at you. “Do you have to take this mission?”

The dark-haired man taps his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Yes, everyone else is on their missions. I have to do this.” He slips on his shoes, and you can’t help but feel another part of him slip away with the action.

It has been a year since the Plasma Star Vessel, Amanai Riko, was killed and a year that your boyfriend has been suffering. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see how he changed. He had lost weight, dark circles permanently resided under his eyes, and he had grown distant from you and your friends. Everyone had been worried, asking if he was okay, but he blamed it on the heat in the missions he was constantly sent on.

But you knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been okay since Riko died. If he would talk to you and stop pushing you away, you might be able to help him.

“I could go with you.” You suggested, slipping on your sandals and following him out the door of the dorms. “My curse technique could be helpful.”

“It can, but this is a simple mission out in the countryside. You know the curses out there are weaker than those in the city. I’ll be back in no time, I promise.”

You want to scream and shout at him to beg him to talk to you. “I could help—”

“I just said it’s a quick miss—”

“I’m not talking about the mission, Suguru.” he stops, looking back at you from over his shoulder. “I can help you with whatever you’re going through. If you stop and talk to me, I’ll listen to you vent, scream, and curse the world. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Sugu.”

Cicadas buzz in the distance as your boyfriend stares at you with no words leaving his mouth. At this point, you’re fuming with anxiety, frustration, and anger over the silent treatment and him pushing you away. How would you help your boyfriend if you refused to talk to you? He didn’t want to talk to you or anyone else. If he didn't talk about it soon, the pain he had been bottling down for the last year was going to burst sooner or later.

You had hoped that your words might act as a voice of reason and that maybe speaking the truth would finally break him out of the stupor he found himself in. Your hopes didn’t have a chance to kindle, however, because all he did was sigh, turning his back on you with a shake of his head. That casual brushing off made your worry melt into rage. You stormed down the stairs, rushing after him to stand in his way, arm stretched out in front of you, preventing him from moving further.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because you weren’t there! You don’t know what we went through. You wouldn't understand; you're just some girl I date. You have no clue how hard it was being one of the strongest.”

His words hurt, knocking you back a step. “What—?” Suguru shoved past you, storming down the steps. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not just some girl! I'm your girlfriend! I am not someone you can talk to like that you can’t—”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” darkness flooded his eyes as he snapped his attention towards you. “Do you fucking understand me?” You were too stunned to speak. “Fucking drop it before I drop you.”

“Maybe I should be the one to break up with you then. If you don’t wanna talk to me, then I don’t see a reason for us continuing this relationship.”

Blurred your eyes as you looked over your shoulder, watching your boyfriend freeze his back and turn to you for a second. Instead of turning around to talk to you, he kept heading down the steps towards the car waiting for him. That was all the answer you needed from him. When he returns from his mission, you will give him all his stuff back since your relationship is over.

You had so much planned on what you wanted to say to him when you handed him all his shit when he got back to the school. You refused to keep fighting for a relationship that was as good as dead. Suguru needed to work through his issues, and maybe once he was feeling more like himself, you might consider talking to him, let alone working.

Those words and thoughts were titanium. Your resolve was set in stone, and you wouldn’t let him convince you that he was fine otherwise. He needed to heal to talk to someone. It broke your heart, but you weren’t the person he needed.

Saying all that, keeping true to your word was much easier said than done.

The resolve you claimed was stronger than titanium snapped like a twig when a call at two in the morning had you jumping out of bed. Suguru’s name flashed on your screen, and you forgot about the fight and the drama, answering your cell as fast as your hands would allow.

“Suguru?” You yelled, jumping to your feet. “Are you okay?”

The other line was silent before your boyfriend sighed. “I wanna talk.” You were slipping your shoes, nodding your head as he could see. “But I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” The fact he didn’t want anyone else coming with you didn’t bother you.

You stepped inside the hotel room Sugurh had messaged you about, and as you did, the scent of blood and smoke flooded your senses, making you question his reason for you coming alone. Glancing around the dark room, you found him crouching beside a bed where two little girls lay. They were bruised and bandaged up, holding each other’s hands as they peacefully slept. Your boyfriend watched them silently, his shirt splattered with the blood that still lingered on him before his eyes finally looked towards you.

“Suguru—what happened?”

“I’m going to remake the world.”

“Huh?” You step further inside the hotel room, approaching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill the non-sorcerer and remake this world into a better one.”

You laughed softly, thinking that maybe he was just fucking with you. But the way his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, you knew otherwise. Your boyfriend was serious, deadly serious. It didn’t make any sense. This was your boyfriend, who saw it as Jujutsu Sorcerer's duty to protect non-sorcerers. This new ideal had to be one of the reasons he had been so standoffish with everyone.

Instead of scolding or yelling at him, you sat down on the bed adjacent to the young girls, observing your bloodstained boyfriend. He had done the one thing you asked him to do, and that was for him to talk to you. You gently padded the spot on the bed next to him with a gentle smile.

Suguru opened up to you about everything. Riko’s death, the clapping from the religious group members he was constantly hearing, and the discussion he had with Tsukumo Yuki. For the first time in months, you felt like you were finally listening to your boyfriend talk. Part of you felt relieved, but something else began to take a route in your stomach as he told you about Nanako and Mimiko. He had slaughtered an entire village, an action he stood by and one he did not regret.

“I’ll be banned from Jujutsu Society and given a death sentence. But I don’t regret what I did.” Suguru’s eyes were glued to the floor, hands in his lap. “But you deserve to know what I did. What I plan on doing, I will remake this world, ridding it of non-sorcerer, those useless damn monkeys.”

He wasn’t sure how you would react. He expected you to shout, yell, and look at him in utter disgust. Yet what you did left him stunned as you reached across his lap and took his hand in yours. Suguru watched as your clean fingers intertwined with his, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying draw his attention towards you.

“We’ll remake the world.” His eyes went wide as he sat up back stiff as a board as the light returned to his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why would you willingly say yes? I killed people. You understand that. I killed a lot of people, and I’m going to have to kill more.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because you have a point. I see the world you want to create, and I want to help you.” You turned your body to him, wiping dried blood on his cheek. “Because I love you.”

The icy wall that had formed between you both melted. Suguru grabbed you by the face, kissing you deeply. He snarled and growled into your mouth, pulling you to your feet and dragging you into the bathroom. His lips only left yours to remove your clothes. Start the shower and shut the door. Once he got his hands, mouth, his entire body pressed against yours, you didn’t stand.

Suguru had you pinned into the shower floor with your hands pinned above your head as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips furiously bucked into yours as his lips smashed and moved against your own, his teeth nipping and sucking at your lips, pulling it back before releasing it, drawing blood. He needed you with a deep, crazed passion. His cocks slammed in and out of your pussy. The lack of prep on both your parts had your walls stinging with each hard thrust into you.

“Haah! Fuck! Oooh fuck!!”

“You’re mine~! You’re fucking mine, and we could’ve remake this fucking world. You could stay by my side. You’re never gonna fucking leave me.”

His teeth finally gave up their ass assault on your lips, moving to attack your neck instead. “Nngh! Fuck! Suguru!” He growled, his ass clenching with each deep thrust into you, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, guttural moans from you.

“Fuuck, that’s right. Say my name. I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Suguru.”

“Yes—fuck what does my princess need?”

“W-Wanna touch you! Please, Sugu!”

You didn’t even need to beg; Suguru let go of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, scratching down his toned muscles. Your boyfriend hissed at the sting pain, but he returned the favor, digging his finger into your hips, grabbing you roughly fucking into you with the same momentum, making sure not only you would have bruises on your skin, but your poor pussy would be bruised as well. He wasn’t just leaving his mark on the world but also his pretty princess.

His dark, wet, damp hair fell over his shoulder as he slammed into you with one hand, reaching up to cut the back of your head, cradling it gently as he slammed into you with all of his strength. He was making up for the months that you hadn’t been intimate. He was ensuring that you knew how excited he was to have you on his side and to have you see the world as he saw it.

He fucking loved you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum; I’m gonna cum inside your pussy.” His into your ear, feeling the way you clamp down around him, his vulgar words. “Yeah, does my princess like that?”

“Yes!”

“The beg for it, beg me to cum in that tight little cunt.”

Your nails dug harder into his skin as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. “Please, please cum inside of me, Suguru! I need it! I want it so fucking bad!” His thrusting, the words he said, and the way he kept rubbing the head of his cock against your spot have your leg shaking body arching off the shower floor. “Oo-ooh! Fuck! I’m cumming! Cumming!!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock, drawing out a deep moan from Suguru.

“Take it! Take it, baby~! Fuuuck~! Yes, cum on my cock~ cum for me, princess cum!”

The warmth of his cum filling you grinned as you happily peppered his neck with kisses. God, you missed this; you missed him. Once his thrust came to a stop, you hummed, kissing down his neck yourself. He smiled, chuckling weakly against your soft skin.

“Fuck,”

“Yeah, fuck.” You purred, holding him tight as his cock twitched inside of you. “I needed that so bad.”

As you both lay on the shower floor, Suguru held you tight. You rubbed your hands up and down his biceps, fingers trailing over his chest. As he watched your hands slowly move over his body, he realized how lucky he was to have you. You were throwing away your comfortable, stable life for him, leaving the world you knew behind to become a curse user who would help him obtain his goals. You were too good for him.

“God,” he whispered, pulling you up to his mouth, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “I can’t wait to rule the world with you.”

Gojo Satoru:

You loved your boyfriend. Gojo was an amazing partner and friend. But dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age came with its downside. Satoru was consistently being the mission he was consistently sent on. You were supportive and always willing to wait for him. You stayed up late to talk to him when he was in different time zones. You made him his favorite meal when he got home.

You even understood when he would come home that he was tired and just wanted time to himself, like sleeping or snuggling you in the silence of his condo. You loved waiting at home for him, eager to help him relax and take some of the stress off of him whenever you could.

That was the usual routine until he started going out with his friends instead of you. He would often say he needed to go to a new cafe and get himself a sweet treat; it was like a reward to himself. Which you didn’t mind; in fact, you encouraged it! If Satoru wanted to go out, he could. You weren’t the type of girl to be all controlling or suspicious of his actions. At the end of the day, as long as he came home to you, you didn’t mind when he did. You were happy as long as he was getting the stress relief he needed.

And he needed that kind of stress relief with the higher-ups making him work as much as they were. It felt like every other weekend, he was getting sent on missions, which was strange because it was summertime. There shouldn’t have been as many curses since it was the slow season for you guys. You didn’t question it at all. Instead, you continued to offer to be there to support him if he needed you.

Until you caught him.

It was supposed to be a girl's night; you, Utahime, and Shoko went to the local bar to enjoy a few cocktails and vent about your day. When you walked in, you sat in your booth, sipping on your Sex on the Beach, while Shoko sighed, finishing her fifth shot of whiskey. Her eyes kept dying behind you before I glanced at the table, running her long-painted nail over the rim of the glass.

“So, where did they ship Satoru off to this time?” She asked, smiling as the waiter brought her another drink.

“Mhm,” you swallowed the drink in your mouth, “Ireland, something about some castle curse or something. I don’t know. It seems like there’s been a lot of activity, which is weird.”

“Ireland, huh?” Shoko sighed, taking another peak over your shoulder. “Bastard didn’t even bring back souvenir for me. You would think he would bring me back some Irish whiskey.”

“Well, he might; he should be back tomorrow night.” Your friends' reactions mirrored each other. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that had your stomach unsettled. “What? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

“Gojo is still in Ireland?”

“Yeah—?”

Shoko sucked down a breath rubbing at the back of her neck, before pulling out her cigarette box. “Well, don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend got back sooner than you thought.” She points behind you with her cigarette.

Turning your head, your eyes go wide, finding your boyfriend sitting in a booth with his closest friends. In Tokyo, and not in Ireland like he had told you an hour beforehand. You felt like the room was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the small amount of alcohol you had drank. No, it was because of the carefree look on his face as he smacked Geto on his back before downing his cola.

Your body moved before you could even think. Rushing forward, pushed past strangers, hurrying towards your boyfriend, who hadn’t even noticed you running towards him. His friends, however, did notice. Geto smiled as he waved at you, Nanami nodded his head in acknowledgment, and Haibara leaned his head back against the booth, turning his head just as you slammed your hands down on the table.

“Oh, hi! How are you doing tonight?” Haibara cheerfully greeted, sitting up straight, eyes sparkling. “I thought Gojo said you were out on a mission.”

Upon hearing his name brought into the conversation, your boyfriend turned his attention towards you before spurting out the cola he had been drinking, the liquid coming out his mouth, and he coughed harshly into his fist. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt tight. Why would he lie about being home?

“Funny, he said the same thing about himself.”

“Sweetie, I uhm—“

“How was Ireland?” You questioned, tilting your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

Suguru cocked a pierced brow, his dark eyes darting towards his best friend, who looked like he was about ready to shit bricks. “Ireland? I thought you said that’s where she was at?” All eyes seem to focus on your white-haired boyfriend as the back of your throat burns with unshed tears.

“So I guess it’s at least good to know. I’m not the only one you’re lying to.” You rolled your eyes, storming out of the bar and snatching your purse from Shoko, who was watching. “Bye.”

“Sweetie! Honey, wait!”

“No! I have nothing to say to you right now that would be remotely good!” You yelled back at him, listening to his footsteps over the sticky bar floor. “So please leave me alone.”

“Baby!” His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Listen! I—fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry you got caught in a lie? One that you apparently had told several different people.”

There was nothing he glanced aside from instead of staring at the floor. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and didn’t want to come home.” The tone in his voice is almost comical.

“Okay? When have I ever had an issue with you going out? You could’ve just told me the truth instead of lying.”

“I just felt like I’ve been neglecting your needs, but I feel like I’m not in a position to be there for you in the way you need.”

For a second, your boyfriend thinks you might stop to give him the time to listen to what he has to say. Instead, you yank your arm out of his grip, letting it limply fall to your side. Gojo can see the pain in your eyes. Pain that he wanted to avoid putting on you, but instead, he’s pretty sure he had caused more pain.

“So you lied about being on a work trip?” He says nothing. “Good to know you feel that way.”

You start heading back out to get an Uber, but Satoru is right behind you. “Baby please, I just, I feel so tired all the time. I just need to unwind.” You turn back around, shooting daggers up at him.

“Fucking unwind! Do whatever you want! I don’t give a fuck!”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because you fucking lied to me!” You screamed, causing him to wince through his teeth. “You called me today and told me you were in Ireland! When you could have told me, ‘Hey babe, I’m going out with the guys,’ instead, you fucking lied to me!”

Satoru frowned, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. A problem that he had created himself. One that could’ve easily been avoided if he had told you the truth. So, instead of saying anything, he just dropped his head down in shame.

You fought against the urge to somehow break through his infinity and slap the shit out of him. But since that was impossible, he watched as you wiped the welling tears from your eyes with a shaky sigh. With a swallow and a deep breath, you turned away from him, heading to the car that pulled up to the curb for you.

“W-Wait, where are you going?!”

“Home.”

Without so much is another word, you got in the car, and your boyfriend watched as it drove off down the street. He had messed up royally this time. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to break up with him at this point. Gojo had been so stressed, and he didn’t want you going above and beyond to take care of him when you were just as stressed as he was. he saw how you acted. You made it a point to cook his favorite meals to buying him his favorite sweets, when you had the same dark circles under your eyes from your hard work being a sorcerer.

You seemed to enjoy helping him out like that. Like it was a highlight of your life. So, instead of sitting down and talking to you like a normal person, he decided to go out with his friends. Giving yourself time to hang out with your friends, read a book or catch up on some well-deserved rest. He should’ve just talked to you about this but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

But in trying to protect your feelings, he had hurt you even more. He couldn’t just idly stand and let this be the end of the conversation. He needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry he was in person.

When you got home, you could smell Gojo in the apartment. You weren’t expecting to smell his cologne, seeing that you had left him twenty minutes prior at the bar, but the asshole was able to teleport himself wherever he wanted. So much is saying a word. You threw your purse on the entryway table before storming towards the bedroom, where, low and behold, he was waiting for you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, cerulean eyes snapping towards the door as you walked in. “Sweetie.” He hesitantly spoke, hurrying after you as you headed into the bathroom. “Look, can we talk?”

“About what? Your next mission: what are you going to China or something? Or is it just another excuse for you to hang out with your friends?”

You were pissed. This would be one of those moments you held over his head for all time. “Look, I fucked up, big time.” You laughed, glancing at him in the mirror as you took your shirt off. “Okay, majorly fucked up, I should’ve talked to you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The cold, dark stare you gave him in the mirror told him that your feelings were already hurt, and his reasoning was stupid to bring up at this point. “Will you please just listen for a second? Let me apologize properly.”

While the idea of fumigating in your anger was tempting, you knew if you didn’t give him the opportunity to, he wouldn’t get off your ass for the rest of the night. Shaking your head, you turned to face him as you leaned against the glass door of the walk-in shower. A certain relief settled inside Gojo’s chest as he stepped closer towards you.

“I’m sorry for lying. I should’ve been honest with you. But you always get so excited taking care of me when I get home that I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.” The pinch of your brows softened as he spoke. “You spoil me fucking rotten. I honestly don’t deserve someone as good as you. I’m an egotistical, arrogant, pompous asshole, and you were too good for me. Even though I can see how tired you are, you always make an appointment to put me first.”

“Toru—”

“So I decided to take a step back and relieve some of my stress by hanging out with the guys. Lately, you’ve been so rundown. So I’ve told you I was going to Ireland so you could have a night to yourself. You have to worry about dinner or taking care of or making me feel good when you should be taking care of yourself as well as you take care of me. Fuck I should be taking care of you. But I’m just so fucking tired. I don’t have the energy to do that, and unfortunately, I’ve neglected you and your needs.”

“No—Toru, I see where you’re coming from, and it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not alright. Nothing about this is alright. I should’ve talked to you instead of lying to you, and I fucked up.” He hesitantly reached out, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve told you the truth.”

You were still angry over him lying to you. he could’ve been more of an adult and told you what he felt. But simultaneously, you could see where he was coming from. You had been putting a lot of effort into taking care of him and thus neglecting your own needs. He was right; you were as tired as he was. Not only did you have your own missions to go on, but on top of taking care of the condo and trying to make him feel comfortable, you hadn’t put time away for yourself. In his reasoning, he was trying to take care of you like you had taken care of him.

You allowed him to take your hand, squeezing his fingers back. “I swear to God if you lie to me like this ever again, and I catch you at the bar with your friends when you’re supposed to be in Ireland, I will kick your ass all the way there myself, Gojo Satoru.” he wins at the use of his full name, but your boyfriend pulls your hand tugging you into his chest.

“Noted, I promise I won’t ever do that shit again. I’m really sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. We both got overwhelmed and instead of communicating, we just ignored it. Next time, I think we can do better as a couple. That way, this sort of shit doesn’t happen again.”

Gojo nods before he presses his chin against the top of your head, wrapping his long, lanky arms around you. “Right, I can do that.” You into his chest, sighing happily. “Is it too late to start communicating our feelings now?” You giggle, you’re almost bare chest rumbling against him.

“Depends on what exactly you want to talk about.”

Gojo pulls his chin off your head before grabbing your face in his hand. He lifts your head, forcing you to look at his beautiful, stunning eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk. I want to feel. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not too angry with me.” You slowly run your hands up his chest, smiling lovingly at him.

“I can’t say no to you.”

One steamy make-out session later ended with you both pressing each other against the walls in the bathroom; Gojo had you pressed against a wall, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you in his chest. "I missed you so much, sweetheart. So fucking much." The hot, steamy water from the running shower made the bathroom hot. He kissed you gently.

“I missed you too, Toru.” You whispered against his lips with a giggle as you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your soft skin. "Can I kiss you again?" Instead of answering his question, you close the distance between your lips, kissing him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Satoru grunted, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the glass door to the shower. “Fuuck missed you, baby.” He slowly pressed his lips to yours, holding his breath momentarily as he just kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

“Mhmm Satoru~”

He pulled away after a moment, his hands still holding your face. "God— Fuck, I missed hearing you sent my name like that." He held you tight, pressing your head to his chest as he slowly dried his fingers down your back.

“I’ve missed saying it,” you pressed gentle kisses up his chest, flicking your tongue over his nipple. “But I missed moaning it more.”

"Oh, you have?" He felt his heart and cock flutter at that, smiling softly.

“Ooh yeah, I’ve missed your cock.”

Gojo cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. "Well, I guess we have something. We have to do something about that then?~" He pulled you tighter against his body, his hardening cock rubbing against your bare hip. "I missed that amazing pussy, too~."

You whined, looking up at him. "I want you now, Toru." You whispered as you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking him with a twisting motion.

“Oooh fuck baby.” His eyes slowly shut, his cock immediately completely hard. "Yeah does my sweet little girl need her Daddy’s cock?" He groaned softly, still holding you close against his bare ivory skin.

“Yeah~ I need it fuckin’ bad.”

Satoru bit his lip, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fucking okay, sweetie, I’ll give it to you.” He groaned, lifting you, pressing you against the glass wall of the shower. "God, I can't fucking resist you."

"Ah~!" You gasped out, your eyes glossy with need. "Fuck, please." You’d had sex against walls before, but this was needier, and fuck, it made you wet. "Fuck me, Toru~ fuck me until I squirt on your fat cock."

Just hearing you say those things made him shiver, leaning into you, kissing you deeply. "Of course, sweets~" He groaned as he held his hand up to you. “Spit.” You followed his instructions, spitting into his hand. He moaned as he rubbed it on his cock in place of lube. Once his cock was slick, he held you up by your waist and slowly lowered her down onto his aching length.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh god, y-you're so fucking big." Your whimpers grew louder as he stretched you out with his thick cock. "Fuck me, Toru!"

“Ahh fuck—“ Satoru let out a small growl, his left arm holding your waist and his right hand moving up to toy with your clit. "That’s right, sweetie, moan for me. Let’s get another fucking noise complaint from our neighbors ~" He pistoned his hips He pistoned his hips into you, thrusting fast and hard, chasing his already-building orgasm.

He glanced up, watching your eyes roll back, your hands gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Loud sounds escaped your mouth as you looked into his eyes, dilated with pure animalistic need. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans he fucked into you.

"Fuck, you're so damn pretty, Sweetheart~" He groaned, wet slapping sounds reverberating off the walls with every thrust. " O-Oh god, I'm—not going to last long. I've been so pent up!”

You weren’t in much of a better position than him feeling him, slamming into his curved cock, hitting every special spot inside of you. At the same time, his right hand played with your clit and had you on the edge so ridiculously fast you’re pretty sure he was about to world record. Satoru watched as your eyebrows knitted together as you stared into his eyes. There was a desperation in your beautiful eyes as you cried out his name, telling him you were close.

“G-Gonna cum Toru~! Gonna cum!”

At least you were able to form coherent words. Feeling your walls flutter and hearing the sweet sound that left your lips made Satoru’s hips stutter, and he moved, slamming his lips to yours as he gripped your hips, shoving you down all the way on his cock as he groaned, releasing his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed fill you sent you right over the edge with him, making you tilt your head back as sweet moans of his name left your lips.

“Missed you.” That was the only thing your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Toru.”

“I’ll never lie to you again.”

“Thank you—Ah!” You squealed as he opened the shower door, stepping inside with you. “Toru!”

“So when I tell you we’re going eight rounds tonight, you better fuckin’ believe it’s happening.” Gojo would show you just how sorry he was for hurting you. Even if that meant you were hurting from all the sex you were about to have the next day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

707 notes · View notes

moonlight-joy · 21 days ago

Text

Prey in the Shadows

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: This intense tale of cat-and-mouse explores the thrill of fear and the balance of power between hunter and prey. Sergei’s relentless pursuit forces you to confront your own instincts and vulnerabilities, blending danger, trust, and the electric tension of his presence. As his lessons unfold, you’re left questioning whether this is a punishment, a game, or a deeper test of loyalty.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The streets are eerily quiet as you begin your walk home, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows. The cold night air nips at your skin, but what truly sends a chill down your spine is the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You can almost hear Sergei’s voice in your mind, low and laced with authority: "You should never break your promises, my prey."

The world around you sharpens—the rustling of leaves, the soft crunch of your footsteps, the distant hum of a car engine. Sergei’s training, his relentless hunting instincts, come flooding to mind. You know how he moves, silent and precise, like a ghost through the night. Every fiber of your being tells you to run, but to run would be to play directly into his game.

A twig snaps behind you. You whirl around, heart pounding, only to find empty darkness. Panic sets in as you realize Sergei is toying with you, allowing you to feel the vulnerability of prey in his sights.

“Keep moving,” his voice growls, deep and resonant, from somewhere in the shadows. “Let’s see if you can make it home.”

You force your legs to move, each step a battle against the icy grip of fear. You keep your eyes on the path ahead, scanning for any sign of movement, but Sergei is nowhere to be seen. A flicker of motion catches your eye—a shadow too fast to be anything but him. The streetlights above flicker as though they’re conspiring with him, casting fleeting glimpses of his presence.

“You can’t win this,” his voice whispers, closer now, impossibly close. “But you can try.”

Adrenaline surges through your veins. Against your better judgment, you start to run. The world blurs as you dash through the dark streets, your breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Every step echoes like a drumbeat, announcing your location to your pursuer.

And then, silence.

The absence of his voice, his steps, his presence is even more terrifying. You skid to a halt, heart hammering in your chest, and realize you’re no longer sure of the way home. The streetlights around you flicker and go dark, one by one, until you’re enveloped in shadow.

Then you hear it—soft, deliberate footsteps, circling you like a predator closing in on its prey.

“Lesson one,” Sergei’s voice growls, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Never let your guard down.”

You spin wildly, trying to locate him, but the darkness is absolute. A metallic scrape cuts through the silence, sharp and jarring, ahead of you. It sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, something flies past you—a blur—and crashes into a lamppost. The bulb explodes in a shower of sparks, plunging the street into deeper darkness.

“Lesson two,” Sergei murmurs, closer now. “Always know your surroundings.”

Your mind races, a cacophony of fear and Sergei’s relentless teachings. You move slowly, fighting every instinct to run, until his voice pierces through again, sharper and more commanding. “Run.”

You bolt. Your legs burn, your breath tears from your lungs, and the world narrows to the path ahead. But no matter how fast you go, you feel him closing in, his shadow stretching long and unrelenting behind you. You glance over your shoulder, and in that instant, you see him—tall, composed, and in complete control.

Sergei steps forward, blocking your path, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. His voice is calm but carries the weight of finality. “Lesson three. You can’t escape me.”

You freeze, every muscle locking in place as he approaches, his presence overwhelming. He grips your arm, firm but not cruel, and leans in, his voice a low whisper. “Do you understand now? Why you don’t walk alone? Why you don’t break your promises?”

You nod, unable to speak, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Sergei steps back, his gaze still fixed on you as he gestures toward the path. “Go. If you make it home without me catching you, we’ll call it even.”

For a moment, you don’t move, paralyzed by fear and the weight of his words. But then his eyes narrow, and his voice sharpens. “Run.”

You don’t wait to be told again. You sprint into the darkness, Sergei’s laughter trailing behind you, the game far from over.

Please support my work with like and comment

#kraven #kraven the hunter #kraven x reader #kraven movie #kraven x you #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter movie #kraven the hunter x reader #aaron taylor johnson #aarontaylorjohnson

180 notes · View notes

eli0004 · 8 months ago

Text

Long Distance with the AoT Men

Contains: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Levi

Synopsis: what is it like to be in a long distance relationship with the AoT boys? Let’s find out 👇

Warnings: none really, pure fluff, gn!reader

Eren Yeager wants to sleep on FaceTime. Every. Single. Night. If you try to hang up he will sulk so bad, it’s ridiculous. He looks so insanely gorgeous when he’s sleeping though, so you wouldn’t dare complain. Eren has a whole goodnight routine too. You say you love him, he says he loves you more, and bitch you better say you love him most, or else. Eren is not the Eren he is in public when he’s sleepy and missing you from miles away. There’s a certain longing in his voice when he talks about your future together, when you talk about your plans to move in together and get to lay in each other’s arms. Sometimes he thinks about just quitting school, packing his shit and booking a one way flight to your city, but he knows how important it is to you that you’re both secure and ready for a move like that. Until then, he’ll save every penny and he’ll look forward to every opportunity to visit you.

Jean Kirstein watches movies with you. Jean is the type of guy that: A. Can’t sit still and do nothing, and B. Has probably seen every movie that exists in the world. He loves FaceTime dates where the two of you stream a movie together. Absolutely will go old school with it and start a movie at the exact same time, making sure to count down from three if there’s an interruption so you can pause at the same time too. Believes it’s mandatory to have pizza for a movie date. Always Orders himself pizza, and will door dash one to your place too😭 Mans looks so soft and comfy in bed, all clad in a warm hoodie, hood up, chewing on the strings. You can see the light from the screen flashing, illuminating his sleepy face. It’s those moments when the distance aches a little more, missing the feeling of being there snuggled up against his warm chest.

Armin Arlert just wants to lay there and look at you. If you’re gonna be in a long distance relationship with Armin, you must understand that he is a highly emotional, sappy, clingy guy. When his days are busy and his schedule is packed and he finds himself talking to you less, when you finally do have an hour or so to really sit and talk about things, those are the days when Armin struggles extra hard with long distance, and needs a lot of reassurance that you’re still happy with him, even though he can’t be there with you, especially when he knows there are plenty of other people who could be. More than likely, he spends a lot of your calls shedding intermittent tears, expressing his desire to snuggle up with you every time the thought crosses his mind. When he starts to get sleepy, his eyes droop and he lays his head on his pillow. He’s looking over every feature on your face, making sure to etch every minute detail into his memory for when he’s missing you the next day. He’ll fall asleep, doing just that.

Connie Springer just carries you around everywhere on FaceTime. He’ll go into the grocery store with you in his pocket, talking to you through his AirPods about what flavor of instant ramen he should buy. He sets you up on the counter while he cooks said ramen, so you can watch his chaotic ass burn a cup of noodles. Like eren, Connie probably wants to sleep on FaceTime, but he never remembers to put his phone on the charger so it dies at like 2 in the morning, and he’ll CALL YOU BACK just to be like “sorry babe, goodnight, i love you *snores*”. When Connie is in public, if you crack a joke while you’re in his pocket and he’s wearing his AirPods, he’ll laugh out loud, and you get the pleasure of overhearing people ask him what the fuck is so funny like they’re concerned for his mental health 😭 and he’ll play into that shit too, just to keep hearing your laugh.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t know how to just say he’s missing you, so he’ll call you periodically to ask what you’re doing and then just listen to you breathe for about 20 seconds on the other line after you answer. He visits you every weekend, even if you’re hours away, he will take public transportation for you if he has to, and that’s saying something because he knows how filthy those buses/trains are. Once every few months he’ll take a whole week off to come stay with you, and he’ll probably try to straighten up around your place, pick up your groceries, cook dinner for you, water your plants, in your own home 😭. Literally morphes into your lil househusband for the week, and you have to be like No? Go sit down you’re literally my guest. Distance doesn’t mean shit to Levi. Where there’s a will there’s a way, he believes. The definition of “if he wants to he will” because he will. Every time.

618 notes · View notes

pbaz7 · 14 days ago

Text

AGAINST THE TIDE — PART TWO

paige x azzi

warnings: language

word count: 4.8k

A/N: Here’s the next chapter!! It’s another chap of me setting the scene so bear with me. The next chapters when Azzi officially gets on campus will have more interaction between them. I’m also not sure how I feel about the 1st person POV so I might stop after this who knows. Anywho let me know what you think and leave comments and live reactions if you can!! Happy New Year everyone 🥳

—————————————————————————

July 2019 - Paige POV

I was deep into my basketball workout, the sound of the ball echoing through the gym as I went through the drills with precision. My trainer standing by the sideline, coaching me through each movement — footwork, ball-handling, shot mechanics. I was lost in the rhythm of it all, my mind focused solely on the next move, the next shot, just as I did every offseason.

But then, something on the TV caught my attention.

The US 3x3 tournament was on — I hadn't been paying too much attention to it, but I always found time for basketball, no matter who was playing. It was in my blood. I just loved the game at all levels.

My focus slipped for a second as I looked over at the screen, noticing the score was a little close. Then I saw Azzi.

I froze, the ball bouncing softly at my side as I watched everything unfold. One minute, she was pushing through the defense, looking like she was about to make a play, and the next, she was on the floor. Her knee buckled awkwardly, and I saw her fall, immediately clutching it. The pain was clear as day on her face.

"Oh fuck," I muttered under my breath, the word escaping before I could stop it. My trainer immediately moving toward the TV to turn the volume up.

The announcers' voices filled the gym, sharp with concern. "All of a sudden there’s concern for the health of one of the best high schoolers in the country. We can only hope Azzi Fudd is able to walk out of here on her own which will be a good sign for all the viewers who I’m sure are holding their breath as this all unfolds." One said, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily in his tone.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen as Azzi stayed down, her face twisted in pain, tears welling in her eyes as the camera zoomed in on her. I hate when they do that shit.

I didn’t particularly like Azzi. She was too passive for my liking, not nearly as fiery or intense as I thought a player should be. Especially someone of her caliber. Plus she fouled the hell out of me for no reason that one time. But seeing her in that kind of pain? That wasn’t something I could enjoy. Despite all the rivalry, despite everything, I hated seeing anyone get hurt.

For all our back-and-forth, the trash talk, the competitiveness that had grown between us, I never wanted to see her hurt. She had just had an incredible season, her name up there with the best in the country — and now, it could all come crashing down in a second. This injury could change everything for her, just like that.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when my trainer asked, “You think she’s going to be ight?”

I didn’t answer right away. I just stood there, watching as they helped Azzi off the court, her face still contorted in pain as she limped off. It hit me kinda hard — this was a big deal, and despite everything that had happened on the court between us, I couldn’t help but feel for her.

“Yeah,” I muttered. "I’m sure she’ll bounce back."

After that the gym felt a little different now. The ball didn’t bounce as loudly, and the drill didn’t seem as important. All I could think about was how quickly things could change in an instant. How that could have been me. How it could still be me.

…

Later that night, laying in bed, Paige aimlessly scrolled through social media. Her feed was flooded with news of Azzi's injury. It was everywhere. All anyone seemed to be talking about was the #1 player in the class of 2021 tearing both her ACL and MCL after her incredible sophomore year. Paige had to admit, it hit her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She had seen Azzi's growth first-hand the few times they’d played — her rise to stardom, the awards, and now, this. The thought of the rivalry they'd shared now feeling so... empty... nagged at her.

Paige knew that she’d see St. John’s again twice next year but something about the thought of no Azzi in the mix made it not as exciting. Without Azzi, there wouldn’t be any real competition left. Their games had been some of the most intense, back-and-forth battles she’d ever played in, and now that felt like it was over. There was no way Azzi would be back before the playoffs next year.

Paige’s fingers hovered over her phone screen as her mind wandered. She didn’t know why she was doing this, but she found herself scrolling through her contacts, looking for Azzi's number. They’d played together on the U16 team and Paige had everyone’s number from the team saved after they insisted on having a groupchat. She tapped it and paused, unsure of what to say, knowing if she was in Azzi’s shoes no words would ease whatever she was feeling. Still she sent a message anyway.

You'll bounce back. It's just a setback Fudd.

She stared at the message, fingers hovering for a moment before hitting send. She didn’t expect a response. What was she even doing? Azzi probably didn’t even want to hear from her, they didn’t even like each other. But it felt wrong to just leave it at that — to not acknowledge what Azzi was going through. She knew the girl after all.

With a heavy sigh, Paige set her phone down and went to brush her teeth to get ready for bed. She didn’t really expect a response back.

But when she returned, phone in hand, her screen illuminated, signaling a new notification.

Thank you, means a lot.

Paige typed a quick reply: Anytime.

Then she put her phone on the nightstand, settling into bed as she turned on a WNBA game.

November 2019

Azzi sat at the end of the bench, her leg throbbing slightly beneath the brace, trying to make sense of the game she’d just watched. Her team had been outclassed from the jump, and without her on the floor, it felt like they had no chance. Paige of course had been unstoppable—37 points, and the craziest part was, she didn’t touch the floor the whole fourth quarter. It was almost embarrassing to watch.

When the buzzer finally rang, signaling the end of the game, Azzi’s shoulders slumped and she sighed in relief that it was over. She didn’t even look at the scoreboard; it didn’t matter. She stayed seated as her teammates lined up to shake hands with the Gonzaga players. The energy in the gym was deflated—everyone had known the outcome was a foregone conclusion the moment the game tipped off.

As Azzi adjusted her knee brace and slowly stood up, she was surprised to see Paige walking toward her.

The other players from Gonzaga hadn’t thought to come over and shake her hand, but Paige didn’t hesitate. She offered Azzi a quick high five, her face a mix of competitiveness and something else. Azzi raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the gesture but unwilling to show any emotion to the blonde in front of her.

Paige’s voice was light, almost teasing. “What’s that, 4-1 now, Fudd?”

Azzi couldn’t help but scoff. “You didn’t talk shit the whole game,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You just had to come over here and ruin it, didn't you?”

Paige laughed, a playful glint in her eyes. As she turned to walk away, she tossed over her shoulder, “No comp to talk shit to on the court that’s all.”

Azzi watched her go, a mix of annoyance and begrudging admiration in her chest. Paige had a way of making things look easy, and even though Azzi hated it and hated how she acted, she couldn’t deny it—Paige was damn good.

March 2020 - Paige’s POV

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands, stomach in knots. My phone sat next to me, buzzing with more notifications I couldn’t bring myself to check. The championship game we’d worked so damn hard for, the perfect season we’d earned — all of it, gone. Just like that.

CoVid-19 had canceled the last game, and I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. It felt like a bad dream. The end of my high school career. Just like that, like a snap of a few fingers. Kind of funny how life is in that way.

We had been unstoppable. Undefeated. We were supposed to go out on top. I was supposed to walk off that court with my teammates, with that championship trophy, the culmination of all the hard work and sacrifice after losing last year. But now, it was all over, and I was left with nothing but this empty feeling in my chest.

It felt wrong, especially after the season I’d had. Gatorade Female High School Athlete of the Year. Gatorade National Player of the Year. Naismith Prep Player of the Year. Morgan Wootten National Player of the Year. I was on the cover of SLAM, for fucks sake. A McDonald’s All-American. I was supposed to play in the Jordan Brand Classic. The championship with my team was supposed to be the last piece of the puzzle. And now it was just... taken from me. From all of us.

I wasn’t the only one feeling it, but that didn’t make it any easier. My teammates were crushed, too. We all were. We’d worked for this. We had dreams about our comeback season, and now they were dashed. I just couldn’t understand how everything had unraveled so quickly.

It wasn’t just about the game, though. It was everything that came with it. The way everything seemed to be falling into place too quickly. My future at UConn was waiting, but it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me before I was ready. All of a sudden, the world felt uncertain even though I knew exactly where I was headed for the next four years.

I tried not to think about the stuff I’d lose, like the last game I was supposed to play, the players I was supposed to compete against, and the milestones I was supposed to hit with my team. Instead, I kept thinking about what was next.

The only thing I could do right now was work. There was no championship trophy to hold, no fans to cheer for me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still prepare.

So, I grabbed my shoes and headed to the gym. I knew there was no real closure here. Not right now, so it was pointless to get in my feelings about it. Pointless to sit around and be sad. There was still a season ahead of me, more basketball to play. College was waiting now.

…

The gym was quiet except for the sound of basketballs bouncing. Paige was working through her shots, focused as she tested her range and worked on different combo moves. She wasn’t expecting company, everything was shut down. Her thoughts were elsewhere—on the future, not on what had been taken from her. The weight of losing her senior season to the pandemic still hung over her, though she didn’t let it show in her work.

Then, she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She pulled off her headphones and turned around, surprised to see Azzi standing there. It had been about seven months since Azzi’s knee injury, and seeing her standing there in person was different from seeing her in a game. The two of them never really spoke outside of playing one another, and the awkwardness of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them.

Azzi paused when their eyes met. “My bad, didn’t know anyone was here,” she said, clearly about to turn and leave. The gym was small and only half a court and she didn’t want to deal with whatever Paige had to say today.

Paige shook her head in disagreement, clearly not phased by her presence. “It’s cool. You don’t need to leave.”

Azzi hesitated before nodding and walking over to the bench, sitting down to put on her basketball shoes. Paige returned to shooting. Once Azzi had finished getting ready, she stood up, stretched, and grabbed a ball. Paige was still shooting when she glanced over taking off her headphones again.

“How’s the knee?” Paige asked before she could stop herself, looking down at the black sleeve covering Azzi’s right leg. Her voice broke the silence, and Azzi looked at her, surprised by the blonde speaking to her.

“It’s a work in progress,” Azzi replied, her tone softer than Paige had ever heard. It was clear she was still recovering, but she didn’t seem too eager to talk about it.

Paige simply hummed in response, turning back to the basket. Neither of them said much after that.

Paige continued to go through her drills as Azzi worked on her shots, most of them swishing effortlessly through the net, though she was missing more than usual. Paige, focused as always, didn’t really think too much about what the other girl had going on. After a while of silence, Azzi turned to her.

“Congrats on all your awards, by the way,” Azzi said, her voice genuine, even if it came out a little unexpectedly and awkwardly. Paige nodded, briefly acknowledging it with a half smile. There wasn’t much more to say—her accomplishments had all come in a season that felt incomplete, and she didn’t really wanna think about that right now.

Then, on a rebound, Azzi’s ball went a little further than expected, and Paige jogged to retrieve it, having been closer as she was getting some water. Azzi watched her and when Paige came back, she passed Azzi the ball without a word.

That was the turning point. Instead of keeping to their separate routines, they began to shoot together. Azzi rebounded for Paige, and Paige did the same for Azzi. They moved around the court, each shot a natural rhythm as they stepped into the pass. The way they moved, the way they passed and shot, was effortless, like they had done this a thousand times before. Neither said a word as they shot, they were just happy to not have to run after their own rebound every two seconds. The ease between them told a story of mutual respect even though it was usually clear they weren’t too fond of each other.

The silence between them stretched on as Paige and Azzi continued to shoot. The rhythm of their movements, the swish of the net, and the soft thud of the ball bouncing were the only sounds filling the gym. They both seemed absorbed in their own thoughts as they passed the ball back and forth.

After some time, Paige’s phone kept buzzing so she glanced at the clock. She had been there longer than she’d planned, and she remembered telling Drew she’d take him to the movies. So she reluctantly made her way to the bench to take off her basketball shoes even though she hadn’t cleared her mind like she hoped. Azzi was still shooting, focused and intent, as if the ball and the hoop were the only things that mattered.

Paige bent down to untie her shoes, glancing up as she did. Azzi missed another shot, and the ball rolled off to the side. Paige grabbed it without thinking, tossing it back to Azzi with a casual flick of her wrist.

As the ball landed back in Azzi’s hands, Paige couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation in Azzi’s movements, the way she seemed to favor her left leg a bit. Azzi took a moment before shooting again, but the ball missed again, clanging off the rim and bouncing awkwardly as the girl groaned in frustration.

Paige stood up, grabbing her shoes from the ground as she spoke. “You’re favoring your left side when you shoot now,” she said, her voice calm but observant. “That’s why your shot’s not falling. You gotta trust that your knee will be fine.”

Azzi paused, the ball resting in her hands as she processed the comment. Paige could see the wheels turning in Azzi’s mind, the realization slowly dawning on her. She didn’t reply, but Paige noticed the way she shifted her weight as she took a second shot, more thoughtfully this time as it went through the net.

Paige didn't linger, just headed toward the door. Azzi didn’t say anything more either, lost in her thoughts as she continued to shoot.

November 2020

Azzi had been wrestling with the decision for weeks. The pressure to commit was everywhere, with coaches, family, and even fans weighing in with their opinions. Narrowing her choices to UCLA, Maryland, and UConn had been easy enough—each school had its appeal.

Maryland offered familiarity. The hometown hero story would mean playing in front of her family and friends, building a legacy close to home. UCLA? Well, their facilities were out of this world, and the program was on the rise and it would be nice to be the player who brought them to the top. But UConn... UConn was something else entirely.

The school was synonymous with greatness. Azzi had grown up dreaming of wearing that blue and white jersey, playing under Geno Auriemma, and being part of a dynasty, of being a husky. There was no denying the opportunity to grow under one of the best coaches in basketball history.

But there was a large problem. Paige.

Azzi had only crossed paths with Paige a handful of times during their games, but each interaction had left a bad taste in her mouth. Paige Bueckers was an undeniable talent, but her confidence often read as arrogance. The way Paige carried herself—with that smirk and cocky demeanor—rubbed Azzi the wrong way every time. Could she really spend years as a teammate to someone who seemed so self-absorbed? She couldn’t imagine having to share the court with the girl let alone the ball that she would probably never pass to Azzi.

Azzi turned the thought over and over in her mind day after day, replaying memories of Paige’s antics during games, her posturing, the way the media fawned over her, the way she soaked it in. It was irritating. Still, Azzi decided she couldn’t let one person dictate her future. This was her dream, her opportunity to compete at the highest level, to win championships.

When Azzi made her commitment to UConn public, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The decision was made, and she was ready to face whatever came next—even Paige and all of her bullshit.

A couple of states away in Connecticut, Paige sat scrolling through her phone in the gym when the news broke. A tweet caught her eye, and as she opened it, her jaw nearly hit the floor.

"DMV’s Azzi Fudd, 2021 #1 Recruit Commits to University of Connecticut"

Paige stared at the screen, rereading the headline as if it would change. Her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes bulged in disbelief.

“What the fuck” Paige muttered to herself.

December 2020

During high school winter break Geno organized Azzi to come on a visit to meet the team before her official arrival. The visist had been going smoothly—almost perfectly, in fact. The facilities were incredible, Geno’s warmth and charisma made her feel valued, and the team seemed thrilled to have her there. Everything felt right. Everything except the glaring absence of Paige Bueckers.

It wasn’t like Azzi had come to the visit just to ‘officially’ meet Paige, but it would’ve been nice. Paige was clearly the face of the program now, the freshman star everyone raved about. If they were going to be teammates, Azzi figured they’d at least cross paths before she officially got to campus the upcoming summer. But so far, Paige had been conspicuously absent from all the introductions, the tour, and now the relaxed hangout in the dorm's common area.

The team was great, though. Christyn and Olivia, two of the team’s upperclassmen had gone out of their way to make Azzi feel comfortable, sharing stories about what it was like to play under Geno. Christyn was particularly funny, throwing in sarcastic comments about Olivia’s sometimes over-the-top pregame rituals.

Aaliyah, Nika, Saylor, and Piath—some of the freshmen—were a mix of energy and chaos. Nika’s personality was magnetic; she was constantly cracking jokes and pulling Azzi into the group’s banter. Aaliyah had a quieter, grounded presence, offering up thoughtful questions and laughing at Nika’s antics. Saylor and Piath added their own flair, with Saylor occasionally teasing Nika for her over-the-top expressions and Piath keeping things calm when the group got a little rowdy.

Then there was Aubrey, who was nestled between the older and younger players. She had an easygoing vibe, but there was something quietly sharp about her observations and she didn’t seem to talk much. But as the night wore on, Aubrey began to loosen up a bit and was leaning in to share a few inside jokes about the team dynamics here and there.

“You’ll like it here,” Aubrey said, nudging Azzi with her elbow. “Well, once you get used to all the chaos… and Paige.”

The mention of Paige brought the blonde’s absence into sharper focus. Azzi glanced toward the only closed door in the suite, making her assume it was Paige’s. Azzi had heard what sounded like the same game replaying over and over since she’d been in the suite coming from behind the closed door. She hadn’t thought much of it earlier, but now it felt a little deliberate that she hadn’t come out yet.

Evina noticed Azzi’s glance and sighed. “I’ll go get her,” she said, standing up and walking toward Paige’s door.

Before she could get there and knock, the door swung open. Paige emerged in a whirlwind, a granola bar clamped between her teeth, headphones slung around her neck, her phone in one hand, and her basketball shoes in the other.

“Hey, P,” Evina said, trying to stop her. “Come hang out for a bit. Azzi’s here.”

Paige grunted, barely making eye contact. “Can’t. Played like ass yesterday,” she mumbled around the granola bar before walking past everyone and out of the suite.

Azzi scoffed, unable to hold it in. It was hard not to take it personally. She didn’t know Paige well, but her quick exit felt more like an insult than anything else.

“No, don't take offense,” Evina said, noticing Azzi’s reaction. “Paige is… well, she’s Paige. You’ll get to know her. She’d live in the gym if we let her. Trust me, it’s not about you.”

Aubrey snorted from her spot on the couch. “Yeah I lost a bet and had to drag her out of there twice this week. First time, I turned the lights off. She didn’t even notice, or didn’t care. She just kept shooting until she got tired of me messing with her music and walked out.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “And the second time?”

“Had to practically carry her out,” Aubrey said with a laugh. “She gave up eventually, but only because I promised her Nika wouldn’t eat all the protein bars anymore.”

“I don’t eat all of them!” Nika protested loudly, drawing laughter from the group.

Azzi chuckled slightly but her irritation still lingered. Sure, Paige might be obsessive about basketball, but her absence still felt pointed with Azzi knowing the older girl didn’t like her. Azzi decided to ignore it though and as the night wore on, the team’s easy camaraderie pulled her in, and Azzi found herself genuinely liking everyone. Even looking forward to being here in the summer.

But Paige’s absence hung over everything, making it hard for Azzi to fully relax. When it got close to midnight and Paige still hadn’t returned, Nika, Aubrey, and Evina began debating who should go to the gym this time.

“I went twice already!” Aubrey said, throwing her hands up. “I’m not doing it again. I’d rather wrestle Olivia’s big ass for the remote.”

“You didn’t even try last yesterday,” Nika teased. “You just texted her and gave up and I had to go eventually.”

“Yeah, because she’s a weirdo when she’s like this.”

Evina groaned, standing up. “Fine shut up. I’ll go.”

Azzi watched as Evina grabbed her keys and headed out, her frustration bubbling to the surface again.

About thirty minutes later, the door to the suite swung open, and Evina stepped in, followed by a very irritated Paige. Azzi immediately noticed the tension as Paige, her hair sticking slightly to her forehead from sweat, strode in mid-sentence.

“It’s not that big of a fucking deal, E,” Paige muttered, clearly continuing a heated discussion the two had been having on their way back.

“It is a big deal,” Evina shot back, her voice calm but firm. “And you’re going to handle it. Now.”

Paige groaned dramatically, tossing her basketball shoes onto the floor by her room before following Evina inside. The door shut behind them, and for a brief moment, the suite was quiet.

Then came the muffled sounds of what was unmistakably yelling. Azzi wasn’t sure whether Paige or Evina was louder, but she could hear enough to piece together that Evina was getting on Paige about something.

The team, meanwhile, carried on as if this was perfectly normal, as if it was their routine. Aaliyah was fiddling with the remote trying to find a game, Aubrey was scrolling through her phone, and Christyn and Olivia were engaged in a debate over which snack brand had the best pretzels.

Eventually, the noise from Paige’s room stopped, and a few moments later, Evina emerged, her expression relaxed and a victorious smile playing on her lips. “She’ll be out soon,” she announced, as if this was some kind of accomplishment.

True to her word, a while later, Paige reappeared. She had swapped her clothes for a loose hoodie and joggers, her wet hair thrown over her shoulders. She glanced at Azzi, her blue eyes softening slightly.

“Hey,” Paige said, offering a small, almost sheepish smile. “Sorry for missing most of your visit. Welcome to UConn Azzi.”

Evina, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, watched the interaction with a knowing grin, as though she’d personally orchestrated this rare moment of civility.

Azzi blinked, caught off guard by Paige’s shift in demeanor. She nodded, her response clipped but polite. “It’s all good.”

Paige didn’t seem to notice Azzi’s hesitation—or if she did, she didn’t care. She flopped down onto the couch between Nika and Olivia with an exaggerated sigh, stretching her legs out and leaning her head against Nika’s shoulder.

“Welcome back to the land of the living twin,” Nika greeted her, her voice light and teasing.

Paige tilted her head, giving Nika a look that Azzi couldn’t quite decipher. It was like an entire conversation passed between them in a single expression. Nika burst out laughing, shaking her head as she nudged Paige playfully, making the blonde crack a smile as she leaned back on Nika’s shoulder.

The casual interaction threw Azzi off. For someone who’d seemed so intense and standoffish earlier, Paige was now practically melting into Nika. It was… strange.

Nika, Azzi had learned over the course of the evening, was one of the sweetest and most outgoing members of the team, always cracking jokes and making people feel included. On the surface, she and Paige couldn’t have been more different, yet here they were, leaning on each other like lifelong best friends.

Before Azzi could think too much about it, Christyn, who had been munching on a bag of chips, reached into the cabinet and tossed two protein bars at Paige, hitting her square in the chest.

“Eat,” Christyn ordered, her tone casual but firm. Paige barely reacted, opening one of the bars and shoving a piece of it in her mouth without a word.

Azzi couldn’t help but notice the dynamic. It was almost as if it was second nature for everyone to take care of Paige. Dragging her out of the gym, making sure she ate, looking out for her even when she seemed pissy about it.

It was strange to witness but oddly endearing picking up on how much they cared about each other. Azzi still wasn’t sure how Paige fit into the easygoing, tight-knit vibe of the rest of the team, but seeing her now—grumbling about snacks while slouching into Nika’s shoulder—it was clear there was more to her than Azzi had originally thought.

Azzi had planned to be the bigger person today and put all their bad blood to the side. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Paige had been avoiding her, and it left a sour taste, so she kept her mouth shut.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

173 notes · View notes