#and that scene where his shirt falls off in front of Dave?????
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
LMFAOO davemight shippers are SO funny??
#mmm.. Dave#That is NOT straight#pack it up all might I know what you are#and that scene where his shirt falls off in front of Dave?????#davemight#all might#david shield#Dave “toshi’ shield#toshinori ‘Dave’ yagi#yagi toshinori#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#njk mk#mha#bnha#anime
69 notes
·
View notes
Note
I want to send an angst request, but I saw the prompts and I literally screamed. I don't think I'd survive if u wrote something angsty with those prompts. But I'm still going to send a request, if that's fine with you. I'd like to request pop music with Dave lizewski and prompt 39. "All I can think of is you" and it's like the scene in kickass where he's in Katie's room but instead of Katie's room it's the readers room. Please and thank yeww. I don't know, but I hope it's not too much to ask. Anyways, take care and have a lovely day/night 🫶🏼🩷
SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION
it's not too much to ask, sweetie 💞 enjoy!
~ 🎶 ~
You hum, brushing your hair in your mirror. You're daydreaming again, barely registering your surroundings until a familiar flash of yellow and green is seen in your mirror.
Your hairbrush falls to the ground with a thud and you snatch a perfume bottle from your vanity, spinning around as you spray the liquid in the man's eyes.
"Get out you perv!!!"
You're frightened. Why would Kick-Ass be crawling through your window at 11pm.
"Hey, ouch, wait," he falls to the ground, clutching his eyes as you stumble back into your vanity, still shrieking in terror. "It's me! It's Dave!" Kick-Ass exclaims, pulling the mask off of him and messing up his curls in the process.
"Dave!?" You shriek, dropping the perfume as you blink. You can hardly believe it, seeing your best friend standing in front of you dressed as a superhero is mind blowing. "What the fuck, Dave!?" you scream again.
Dave holds up his hands, shaking them violently as he drops to his knees in front of you. He looks desperate. "Wait, wait, please. It's only me. I'm sorry!"
You clutch the bottom of your pj shirt and glare at him. "Get out of my room!!" You point to the window, hands shaking. Dave is still on his knees, his lip quivering as he pleads with you.
"Can you just hear me out?" he begs, his pretty blue eyes look shinny with tears.
"No!" you say, pacing around the room now as Dave stands and follows you. He reaches you and grabs your wrist. "No!" you shriek and push away from him, eyes wide.
"You're Kick-Ass? Are you serious?" you shout, cheeks warm, "I'm your best friend and you never thought to tell me!? W-what are you even doing here?!"
"I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I- I need to be honest with you. Please listen to me. I'll explain everything," Dave practically whimpers, reaching for your hands as you fall back onto your bed and he kneels in front of you, his hands in yours on your knees. You're still breathing heavily but you seem to have calmed down.
Dave clears his throat, talking as if on auto-pilot. "I'm sorry I've been hiding things from you. I'm really sorry," he begins and you can tell he's being truthful from the look in his eyes, "But I didn't want to put you at risk for telling you about this but n-now, I- I've realized things. A-and I can't keep pretending. I can't keep hiding behind this mask and keep pretending like I'm not utterly in love with you—"
Your breath hitches.
"It's not fair to me. It's not fair to you. We've been friends since fucking forever and I can't keep lying to you every day and pretending I don't want to kiss you every single time I look at you. Pretending that I don't think of you. All I think of is you."
You stare at him, trying to process his words. He looks so pretty like this, eyes shiny and hair a mess.
He's always been pretty.
"I like you," he whispers.
Your eyes widen and then you gasp when his hand reaches up and touches your cheek. Instinctively, you cup his hand. You don't push him away. You don't want to.
His hand caresses your cheek, his touch gentle. "I really like you."
You blink, unable to answer but you lean into his touch. Dave smiles a little, rubbing his thumb against your skin a little lighter now. "You don't have to answer right now, just t-think about it, okay?"
You nod, staring into his eyes as if you're mesmerized by him, which I suppose you are. He moves to leave when you grasp his wrist, pulling him back towards you and clumsily pressing his lips to yours.
You don't need to think long. You already know your answer.
#sky's 3k celebration#pop music#dave lizewski blurb#dave lizewski x y/n#dave lizewski x you#dave lizewski fluff#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski fanfiction#dave lizewski fanfic#dave lizewski imagine#dave lizewski kick ass#dave lizewski#dave lizewski x fem!reader#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson fic
90 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi gorgeous! Can I please request a blurb where the reader works at the BAU and Hotch takes off his jacket (either out in the field or in the office because he’s hot) and rolls up his sleeves and she loses it? She can’t take her eyes off him no matter how hard she tries and the rest of the team makes fun of her for it. Then later that night at the bar when everyone goes out, Hotch teases her because he noticed her looking at him? Like he wore a black button down or something and rolled his sleeves up on purpose for the bar because he knows?
Sorry if that’s too much. Please take your time :)
A/N: it is too much… for my brain to handle without combusting because this is just everything every one of us fantasises about, arm, black button down, sleeves, my goddddddd 🥵. Blue shirt rolled up, and light khaki colored pants sans tie and jacket - there is a scene of this I recall, with JJ and Dave under a white tent.. helppppp
Requests for blurbs are currently open here.
Every day that is paper work day in the BAU is, decidedly a dull day. Every day that is, aside from today.
“Close your mouth pretty girl, you’re starting to drool.” Derek’s voice breaks your trance and you snap your jaw with a click of your teeth, blush rising in your cheeks as you clear your throat nosily , fingers resuming their work over your keyboard.
“Didn’t know you had a thing for arms.” Emily smirks, as she leans back in her chair, twirling a pen deftly in her fingers.
“Forearms.” JJ corrects her, a sly grin sneaking onto her features.
It earns a raise of Spencer’s head, as he looks around, from you, to Aaron who is standing on the raised platform, body half in and half out of Dave’s room. His mouth drops into a tiny o of realisation, before he smiles at you, the least threatening of the lot.
“Are we talking about forearms?” Penelope’s voice floats across the bullpen in a loud greeting, and you groan in horror, throwing up your hands to your face, dragging the flesh of your cheeks downwards.
“Pen..” you hiss, as you cross your palm’s in front of your chest in an x formation. Her eyes flicker around, catching sight of the half of Aaron that is visible form the bullpen and she smiles slyly.
“Aren’t we glad its summer.” She sings out, much to your disdain and Emily’s delight.
“I hate you guys.” You mutter under your breath, as Morgan rolls his chair over to ruffle your hair. You hunch back into your seat, bottom sliding further down the chair, sulk clear on your face, but you can’t help as your gaze wonders back towards Dave’s door. You manage to admire Aaron, free of his usual jacket and tie, blue dress shirt paired with a pair of light khaki coloured pants, rolled up to his elbows, and you silently thank the heavens for summer. Your head snaps back around as you see his figure move to make the walk back to his office.
“You’ve got it bad.” Spencer states, matter of factly, not intending the jab to be as funny as it actually was, as Aaron’s office door shuts, and you let your forehead fall face down onto your table as the bullpen erupts in laughter.
-
“Where’s Hotch?” You ask, earning a snicker from Emily which you elbow away by digging into her side lightly.
“Dropping something off to Jack at Jessica’s.” Dave responds as he settles into the seat while waving the waiter over. The bar you are in today is not really a bar, but more a lounge, or exclusive club if you rather - full courtesy of David Rossi’s influence, wallet, and executive decision making abilities which had decided that the team needed a night out given that there were no new cases on the horizon, for the next day or two at least.
Dave orders for the team, and you push your hair back, humming in agreement to a monologue JJ is regaling to you from across the table about the dress she saw in the department store last week, when Aaron walks in.
You find yourself clutching the sides of your chair, your breath halted in your chest, sanity slowly slipping away from you as he nears. He had ditched the attire from the morning, opting instead for a black button up, rolled up to his elbows, tucked into a pair of jeans so dark they were almost black. Your eyes catch the glint of his watch as he claps Dave on the shoulder in a hello, and you exhale deeply, remembering to breathe before you pass out.
“What are we having.” He slides into the chair to your left just as the waiter is placing filled glasses, and a bottle of whisky down in the center of the table.
“Looks like whisky.” You all but manage to croak out, thankful for the dim like in the lounge, which offers cover to what you are sure is a healthy tinge of red on your cheeks.
He hums in acknowledgement of your answer, reaching forward to tug the bottle closer to him for examination. You bite down on your bottom lip as his arm stretches out in front of you, muscles in his forearm shifting slightly as he grasps the bottle. Your eyes flicker up to the sky momentarily, silent prayer for survival on your lips.
-
You are one too many drinks in, a delightful buzz clouding your head as you watch Penelope and Emily belt their hearts out on the small stage in the front of the room, when you hear him speak. His voice is so quiet that you would have almost missed it, if not for the hand which comes to rest itself casually on the back of your chair, alerting you to his focus being on you.
“So arms huh.” He mutters, and you gulp, eyes widening as you stare at him dumbly. He takes a sip from his glass, one arm still slung on the back of your chair, his eyes locked straight ahead on the screeching duo on stage.
“I uh,” you stumble over your words, unsure of what the appropriate reaction would be.
“I’ll take note for future reference.” He says, again so quietly that you aren’t sure you heard him right, if not for the hand that moves itself from the back of your chair, brushing lightly against your upper back, before dropping itself back to his side as Penelope and Emily run back to a roaring applause from your table.
You join in, your hands clapping together in applause. You sneak a glance on him, the shadow of a smirk dancing on his face telling you that it wasn’t just your imagination
#asks#send asks#requests are open#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner blurbs#blurb#aaron hotchner’s arms#aaron hotchner x black button down#help
482 notes
·
View notes
Text
When you buy new lingerie for them
For: Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno, Agent Whiskey, Dave York, Oberyn Martell, Marcus Pike and Max Phillips
x Female reader
If you want a oneshot to extend on any of these then you can comment or send an ask request for what particular character!
There will be a * to mark ones that contain NSFW content but for this scenario most will (or at least allude to it)
Frankie*
When he comes home from work to find you spread out on the bed in a new lingerie set with matching suspenders he can’t find the words for a good two minutes. His eyes take their time as they follow down your whole body, taking in every inch. He doesn’t talk when he finally shuts his mouth that was hanging wide open and begins to strip himself, walking towards where you are lying on the bed. First his shirt, thrown somewhere at the other side of the room, then his socks that he almost falls over as he takes off, before finally reaching his jeans and boxers. You kneel up from the bed and motion for him to lie where you had been before straddling him and leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“Only good boys get to touch”
Din*
Din had never been the type to care what clothes you had on. He found you beautiful whether you were wrapped up in layers upon layers as you land on Maldo Kreis or in the tiny shorts and t-shirt that you wear around the Crest to sleep in. However, when you both get a night away from the Kid on Mos Eisley you decide to give him a treat. You manage to slip away from him at the market and buy something simple yet sexy to put on back at the Inn for the night. When he sees you in it at first he doesn’t know what to think but when his mind and body finally connect he decides to show you instead, throwing you over his shoulders, shutting the blackout curtains to keep out the light pouring in from the cantina, and showing you how you make him feel instead.
Marcus M*
Since moving in with Marcus and Missy, you two rarely get a night alone. However, with a sleepover planned at a friends house at the end of the week you decide to get a little something for the night. You don’t want anything with too many straps or buckles and instead going for a simple barely-anything-there choice. Marcus comes home from work to you cooking dinner, his favourite, and quickly jumps in for a shower. While he is in, you change out of your clothes and put the apron back on. When he comes downstairs his eyes almost pop out of his head as he takes in the sight before him - candles on the table, his new wife in the kitchen in an apron with little under it and a smirk on her face. You tell him to sit at the table while you plate dinner, taking off the apron and joining him at the table. You drink wine, teasing him under the table as your foot drags up one thigh, across his crotch, before back down the other and repeat. When dinner is finished expect the dishes to be left on the table as you are flung over his shoulder and taken straight to his bedroom with a slap to the ass.
“You’ll be the end of me Mrs Moreno”
Dave*
Dave had been away for another mission and when he phoned to say he would be back by 7pm you knew you wanted to be ready for him. You find one of the few lingerie sets that he hadn’t ripped (because he loved it that much and made sure to tell you that). You wait in the bedroom and hear the front door open and him shout your name through the house. You call back and decide to lie on the bed to wait for him. As soon as his eyes find you they turn darker than usual. He slowly undoes his tie and shirt, stalking towards you, before removing his trousers and boxers. When he is completely naked he kneels between your legs, stroking himself as he lets his hands graze up your thighs.
“What did I do to deserve this, baby?” he groans
Whiskey*
I did write something on this not that long ago.
After a long mission, Whiskey comes home ready to curl up on the couch with his darlin’ but when he finds you in the kitchen, strutting about in a red set with matching heels expect dinner to be put on pause as he bends you over the counter top. He will tease you like theres no tomorrow, his hands running up and down your legs, squeezing your chest and hips. He missed you while he was away and you, in the kitchen like this, is exactly the kind of scene he imagined to get him through the mission.
Oberyn*
Oberyn is a big fan of the naked form but when he is called to your chambers and finds you covered in a sheer, lace material he almost falters in his confidence for a moment. “How about tonight you let me treat you like a Prince?” you purr and he carefully guides himself to the top of the bed. You feed him berries and walk gracefully around the room, letting more and more of your skin expose as you do so, before you are finally free of the material and crawling up his body. Oberyn enjoys being with others physically, you the most, but he has never been this lust filled before.
Marcus P*
Marcus has been even more busy than usual with work and decided to make up with your favourite dinner cooked by him. You decide to bring dessert... After dinner, you retire to the couch with the bottle of wine and when hands start to wander and kisses start to deepen you stand and say you’ll be back in a minute. Thinking you’re away to the bathroom, Marcus pours another glass for you both but almost spills them both when you lean up against the doorway. You make sure to sway your hips a little bit more as you walk towards him, smirking at how his eyes follow down your whole body. You kneel in front of him, giggling at his mouth that hangs open and eyes that are wide.
“You’ve had a stressful few weeks, baby. Let me take care of you now...”
Max*
You had been teasing Max for a few days now, getting him worked up before telling him you had work to finish. You knew it would come to a head today and deciding to leave a little present under your clothes for him to find. His eyes were on you all day before he finally managed to get you alone in his office. He ripped your clothes off faster than he ever had before but stopped when he reached your final layer. “You’ve been so patient, Max. A little present for you,” you wink. He takes a moment, biting his lip, before ripping it off you and showing you just how much he liked it.
Whatever you do, maybe don’t spend too much on your new underwear.
//
Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl
#frankie morales x reader#din djarin x reader#marcus moreno x reader#dave york x reader#oberyn martell x reader#marcus pike x reader#max phillips x reader#frankie morales x you#din djarin x you#marcus moreno x you#dave york x you#oberyn martell x you#marcus pike x you#max phillps x you#mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x you#frankie catfish morales x you#frankie catfish morales x reader#prince obyern x you#prince oberyn x reader#headcannon
231 notes
·
View notes
Note
What about if Dave's s/o found out how Bro treat's him and one day kicks his ass and moves Dave into their place?
It isn’t exactly as requested but I hope you enjoy anyways ^_^
You had began to notice the different sizes of bruises on his limbs. When he would stretch and his shirt would rise, you could see reddened and purplish bruises to ones that were faded into yellow, showing previous ones.
You’d see how tired he appeared when you visited. The bags that were dark and heavy despite his dark, slight opaque shades did little to hide it from others that were close to him.
It wasn’t until Dave had seemed more stressed out that usual that you’d decided to ask him.
“Dave, what’s bothering you?”
He posture stiffened. “What do you mean?”
You swished around the remaining apple juice in your bottle. “You seemed stressed lately?” You said in almost suggestion. Trying to pry but not out right say it. “You also look tired, more so than usual.”
Dave squirmed slightly in his seat next to you. “Nah babe, I’m cool. Just haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and very forced smile. “How about we play some video games?”
You frowned. “Dave…”
____________
It what been a few days since that evening, and now your worry had rose to unhealthy amounts.
Dave had avoided you since that night, and barely replied to texts that you sent.
You looked down to your phone and with an firm grunt you texted him quickly.
‘Dave I’m coming over. Now.’
Your pace to the high rise apartment was quick. Your thoughts heavy as you keyed in the code to the buildings entrance.
He’s never like this. He’s usually the one to text first and constantly at that. Your chats could go into the early hours of the morning sometimes.
The elevator seemed to be moving in half time while your sneakered foot tapped impatiently.
Why was he avoiding you? Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should have left well enough alone.
You pressed the button to his floor.
“Please be okay…” you whispered to yourself, the doors opening and you almost sprinted out them before they could open all the way.
You came to Dave’s apartment door and saw that it was unlocked. You decided to knock nonetheless before entering.
“Hello? Dave…? Mr.Strider? It’s Y/N.”
There was not a single person besides you in the entire apartment. Well you plus the countless puppets of Dave’s brother but you tried not to make eye contact.
You could hear something coming from the floor above you. Rats? It would have to be big freaking ones. Metal? Rats with knives? No that couldn’t be what it was.
You decided to investigate since Dave was no where to be found inside his home. You walked through his room, trying your best to not trip over the various cables on the ground that was hooked up to sound equipment and turntable.
You came to his open window and heard the sound of metal clashing and quickened footsteps coming from above more clearly.
“It’s a stretch but maybe they’re on the roof?” You said to yourself, already sticking a leg out the window to the staircase platform inches from the window sill.
As you made your ascent you stomach felt uneasy. Maybe as if you wouldn’t like what you found when you made it to the final step.
A familiar voice piqued your attention.
“Can’t abscond, bro.”
Dave’s older brother? Can’t abscond from what exactly?
You lifted yourself up to the final step and had to fight the gasp from escaping your lips at the scene you found.
Dave was panting heavily, in one hand one of the swords he kept in his room, the other was grabbing onto his side. His face was twisted in a combination of pain, fear, and anger.
He looked like he was about to fall right where he stood, his knees struggling to hold his weight above them. Which said just how bad he was seeing as how he didn’t weigh much at all.
Dave gave a loud grunt, forcing himself to a battle stance before running at his Bro with a strained battle cry. He pivoted the sword to face his older sibling head on, but was grabbed by his shirt and flung the way he had came.
His body skidded across the cement floor and came to a stop against one of the many air conditioner units for the building.
Bro walked to him slowly, his own sword still drawn at his side. His presence menacing to both Dave and yourself.
Dave seemed to shrink in on himself, arms already out in front of him. He brought them where they covered his head and his torso. “Bro… please. Can’t we stop for today?”
Before you could tell your body differently, it was already moving. Your legs spurred your body forward, sprinting towards the brothers.
Your lungs filled with air as you shouted almost helplessly. “Stop!! Mr. Strider, please!”
The two looked towards you almost instantly. One being stoic behind his shades, the other alarmed.
“Y/N what are you doing her-“ Your boyfriend began, his tone making your chest tighten with just how scared it sounded.
Before he could finish you brought yourself between the two, placing your arms around him from behind you, your front facing his brother. Your chest was heaving from sprinting and the anxiety that welded up inside you from the intense stare Bro was giving you.
“Mr. Strider, I’m I mean-“ you tried but cursed your tongues insolence. “Please, I don’t know what’s going on but can’t you stop for… today? Dave seems really hurt right now, and it’s getting late.”
You felt Dave’s body tense from his place behind you. You moved your hand to where it held one of his and gave a firm squeeze.
“Please Mr. Strider?” You pleaded, looking into the dark chasm of his sunglasses. If you had to beg, so be it. If it meant that Dave wasn’t getting the shit beat out of him, you would grovel.
Bro paused for a moment before sheathing his blade back into its holder. “It is late.” He replied in a low tone, placing Lil Cal on his shoulders. “We’ll go ahead and call it a day, Dave. Try to be with it next time.” He said, his eyes making their sight on the male behind you.
He then turned toward you. “Y/N, feel free and make yourself at home. I take it you’re here to see him?”
How could he act like he didn’t just beat the ever loving fuck out of his little brother?
You nodded stiffly, trying to not show the shakiness through your body. “Yes.”
He gave a small nod and without another word he jumped off the side of the building, but you could hear him on the staircase below.
A few moments passed in silence before you felt your knees give out and you landed on them with a soft sound. Your heart was still racing and you could hear it in your ears with every quicken breath you took.
Your turned on your knees and face Dave who would not make eye contact with you.
His normal stoic expression was plastered back on his beaten up face. His cheek a gnarly colored purple with his lip busted and blood pooling from the wound.
You didn’t even want to think about the injuries that you couldn’t see.
Words escaped you. What could you possible say to make everything that just happened seem like it didn’t? He got beaten to a pulp, by his own guardian. The person that was supposed to protect him.
You could see Dave’s eyes moving to steal a glance at you through the sun hitting his glasses. The red pools of his orbs made tour e/c ones start to water.
They screamed helpless behind the still expression he wore almost all the time. You knew that this instilled stoicism wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t often that he showed emotions, he had gone so long without them from such a young age, it was hard for him to break down those learned behaviors.
You’d do it for him, you’d let down your walls first.
Your eyes began to flood with tears, making their color shimmer against the sun that was now setting beside you.
“Y/N?” He questioned softly, a frown forming on his face. He raised a hand to try and place on yours. “H-Hey it’s okay, this stuff is normal at my house. Bro beat my ass, that’s all there is to it. I keep telling him I don’t want to be a hero, but he just doesn’t listen sometimes. I just wasn’t with it today.”
You instead flung your arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. You let out a sob. “This isn’t normal! None… none of this is normal.”
You squeezed him to your harder. You hoped and prayed that he could feel just how much you loved and cared for him with just how snug your arms were keeping him pressed against you.
“Getting the shit beat out of you isn’t normal! Having bruises all over your body isn’t normal! No one should have to worry about getting a beat down by their own family.”
You felt his body stiffen against you again, his hands pulling at your shirt from behind in fistfuls.
You pushed his head to your shoulder, locking your fingers in his soft locks. Your chest wavered as sobs erupted from your core for him. Tears streaked down your cheeks and you cried.
Dave’s shoulders sagged and he dropped his head on your shoulder and let you cry. Silently he too wove his fingers through your hair and comfortably stroked through them.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry that you’re not safe. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you.” You chanted in between sobs into his shoulder.
You felt Dave let out a strained laugh, the bone crushing hug causing him some discomfort. “I’ll be okay. I promise, Y/N.”
Eventually you and him descended back into his room, and you helped bandage him up from his bed. A little uneven with some of the bandages, but it made you feel better that he was patched up.
He would be okay, because you decided from then on, that you would protect him. You would be his knight in shining armor if that’s what it took for him to be safe.
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Liable PT 2
Word Count: 2,419
Warning: Violence, blood, knives, hospitals, close calls, mentions of anxiety/panic, let me know if I missed any.
A/N: this is part two to a different post. It's long, I can't write cases, kinda angsty but it has a happy ending. Enjoy
“Can you believe it?” You point your spoon at no one in particular. “A ‘liability’! God!” You let out a sardonic laugh and viciously dig into your ice cream.
You, Emily, JJ, and Penny are having girls’ night. Yes, you’re a little tipsy and definitely not over anything.
Emily shakes her head while JJ pours more wine for everyone.
“Y/N/N, you know you aren’t a liability. You’re damn good at your job and Hotch was full of shit,” Em doesn’t normally bash the boss but she’s a little more than tipsy too.
“You know what it is?” Penny butts in, “He likes youuuuuuu.”
Her words elicit a scoff from you, “As if.” Heat rose in your cheeks.
“No, she’s right. Everyone can see it. Hotch totally has a thing for you!” JJ exclaims, spilling a little of her wine. “Come on, are you seriously saying you’ve never noticed how much he hovers over you?”
“Or stiffens whenever you’re with an unsub?” Em adds.
“Or how he almost flinches everytime you call him ‘Agent Hotchner’,” Penny giggles.
“And, you like him too!” JJ says with a sudden seriousness.
You shake your head. As much as you want to deny JJ’s words, you can’t. Your crush has been blooming for a long time. It’s part of the reason why you’re taking this sudden cold front from your boss so hard. If only you knew what to do.
***
“Aaron, you gotta tell her,” was the first thing Dave said after sneaking into Hotch’s office.
“Tell who what, Dave?” Aaron asked. He didn’t have to ask. Dave was talking about you, just like he has been the last multiple times Dave has sought him out.
“Y/N. You know she’s a good agent. She deserves to know that.”
“Is that all?” Aaron has yet to look up from his paperwork.
“‘Is that all?’” Dave repeats, “No, first, it’s affecting the team. Everyone can see that. There’s so much tension between you two. After you fix that, you should also tell her how you feel.”
“Enough, there’s nothing to tell,” Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ll handle it, okay?”
“You better.”
***
Hotch had kept you out of the field for seven cases. Seven. Working from Quantico was killing you and you had a newfound respect for Penny. That’s why you jumped, literally jumped, at the chance to finally go on a case with the team. However, you’re confined to the police precinct. Not ideal, but you’ll take what you can get. So while the team is gathering information in the field, you’re working on the geographical profile.
Unfortunately, geographical profiles are not your strong suit. More unfortunately, you’ve determined that there’s not enough information to make one. With a sigh, you push yourself away from the desk and make your way to the mediocre coffee station.
A young officer approaches with a smile, “What a case, right?”
You look him over. This case is probably the worst he’s seen. He’s not too bad on the eyes. Not quite your type. You shake your head as the thought of your boss flits through your mind. Giving the officer a small smile, “That’s your opening?”
Red blooms across his cheeks as he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I had to start with something. I’m John,” his hand comes out between you two.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” he grips your hand a little too hard.
The door to the precinct opens. Hotch, Emily, and Reid come in. They were at the latest crime scene.
Nodding your head at your team, “That’s my cue.”
You take your leave but John stops you. “How about you and I take some time and I’ll buy you a better coffee?”
“I can’t. We have to solve this case. That’s my priority,” It’s a little harsh but that’s what you’re here to do in the first place so that’s what you’re going to do.
“L/N,” Hotch calls.
“I’m coming,” you take your coffee and go to them. “What did you find?”
“Her friends report some guy talking to her at the bar they went to the night before she went missing. Apparently he kept trying to get her to go somewhere with him.” Hotch fills you in.
“Let me guess, she kept turning him down?” You fill in, earning a nod from your boss.
“How’s the geographical profile?” Reid asks.
“You’re welcome to take a shot at it but there’s not enough.”
This time it’s Emily who speaks, “We need another victim.”
And you got one that night.
The next day you're able to finish the profile. Right as you do, coffee is set on your desk. You look up to see John. “Thank you,” you tell him. Relief filling you at the thought of caffeine.
“You looked like you could use it,” he smiled at you. Taking a sip you looked up in surprise. The coffee was exactly how you like it. “I- uh - I noticed how you took it yesterday while we were talking.” John rubbed the back of his neck and you nodded.
“We’re ready to give the profile.” Hotch announced over the room to gather everyone’s attention. It didn’t take long for everyone to get ready.
“We believe that the unsub is a young male, in his twenties to thirties,” Hotch started.
“He’ll probably try to inject himself in this investigation if he hasn’t already,” Morgan went next.
Your turn, “Given the places the victims are taken from and the dump sites, the unsub’s comfort zone is in this area,” you gesture to the map, “Meaning he either lives or works somewhere in the area.” The rest of the profile goes smoothly.
After, you take a step outside, needing to clear your head. The door opens and there’s footsteps. You turn to talk to the person. A butt of a gun slams into your head. You feel the shock.
Everything goes black.
***
You come too in a dark place and you can’t make anything out. You can hear a flip get switched and the lights flicker on above you. Squinting against the harsh light, you try to orient yourself. You take inventory. You’re sitting. Killer headache, probably a concussion. There’s something wet on your temple. You go to wipe it away only to discover your hands are bound behind you. Ankles similarly tied but to the legs of the chair.
Trying to fight the panic setting in, you take a deep breath and look around. Knives line the wall in all different sizes. Pictures of the previous victims are hung on the wall with some sort of writing by them.
The unsub walks into the room. He has an old camera with him. It’s flash blinds you. You turn your head away from the flash. When you look back, the unsub’s back is to you and he’s hanging the picture he just took on the wall. He looks familiar. You can’t place him until he turns around.
John.
John with a knife.
John with a knife, and he's coming toward you.
***
“He uses a knife so he’s likely impotent but there’s nothing else that implies this is sexual for him,” Morgan rubs his temples.
“The multiple stab wounds are all done before the kill. So he’s sadistic,” Rossi adds.
JJ enters the room, a worried look on her face. “Y/N isn’t here. I’ve checked with the hotel and they haven’t seen her since we left. She’s not answering her phone.”
“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Rossi asks.
“No one knows where she went,” JJ says.
“Guys,” Reid enters the room, holding up a phone. Your phone.
“She wouldn’t leave with just anyone. Y/N’s careful.” Rossi scrubs his face.
“She probably didn’t go willingly. It’s broken.” Reid tells them, setting the phone on the table.
“I’ll call Hotch,” Morgan stands, leaving the room.
***
Coughs tear through you. Blood dribbles out, dripping onto your already ruined shirt. You turn your head and spit, trying to clear your mouth from the coppery liquid.
“You couldn’t have just said yes? It was just coffee. But no you couldn’t do that could you!” John lets out a deranged laugh. “You’re just like the others. So stuck up you won’t give anyone a chance.” The knife he wields sinks into your abdomen and you bite your lip to keep in the pained gasp. “We could have been happy together. You’d have to give up your job though. This isn’t a line of work for a lady.”
That line. You’d been hearing that line since you joined the BAU. You’re so tired of it. His face is so close. You spit and it lands on his cheek. A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as the bloody saliva trails down his jaw.
John wipes it off, “You’re going to regret that.” His fist hits the side of your head, sending ringing through your skull.
“No,” you cough up more blood. “You’ll regret this. My team will find you and you will pay.”
“Too bad you won’t be alive to see it.”
***
You were barely conscious when they found you. Your breaths are shallow. You don’t know what happened, what went down. All you know is that suddenly, you’re not in that chair anymore. You’re not there, and someone is being loud. Someone is yelling. You try to open your eyes to see who.
“Hotch,” it comes out weak. Barely a whisper. Your hand goes up on its own accord to wipe his tears, leaving a streak of red in its wake. “Why are you crying?” Suddenly your hand falls back to your side and you turn your head.
“Y/N! Hey Y/N! Stay with me!” His hand turns your head to look at him. His hands are so big. He’s warm. So warm. After you had been so cold.
“You’re so handsome, Hotch. So handsome,” it slurred out. Everything goes back once more.
***
The team is waiting anxiously at the hospital. Most of the cuts are shallow but the ones that aren’t caused you to need emergency surgery. They’re bad, more than enough to cause worry.
“She’ll make it. Y/N is strong. She’ll make it,” Emily sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
Reid has his head in his hands.
Morgan is pacing.
Garcia rushes into the waiting room when she gets there, “How is she?”
“She’s in emergency surgery,” Rossi answers.
She collapses into a nearby chair.
Hours drip by. One after another. Someone convinces Hotch to change, get out of the bloodstained suit. Someone else gets everyone coffee, or a snack. No one touches those.
The more time passes the more everyone gets worried. When the doctor comes out, it’s too soon and not soon enough all at the same time. “She’s stable,” everything they say after is a blur from the relief. “You’re welcome to see her when she wakes up.”
It’s an hour later when a nervous looking nurse comes in the waiting room. “Are you for Y/N L/N?” Everyone stands nodding. “She’s- uh- she’s asking for an Agent Hotchner?”
“That’s me,” Hotch steps forward.
“Follow me. Uh- the rest of you can see her in a little while,” the nurse sent a smile to the rest of the team.
***
The light was bright in the hospital. The doctor was telling you what happened but you didn’t hear any of it.
The door opens and Hotch rushes to your side, “Y/N!” He scans you over, eyes stopping on every bandage.
“Hotch,” your hand covers his to get his attention. “What happened?”
“I- We almost lost you. It was bad. You lost a lot of blood,” he tries to fight back the tears.
“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful. I should have realized-”
“No!” His voice comes out startlingly loud. He makes an effort to soften it. “No. This isn’t your fault. No one blames you.”
You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “Sure. No one blames me. They all just think I’m a liability right?” The word slips out before you can stop it.
Liability. The same one he used before. It felt like a knife to the gut.
“No. No. No. You’re not a liability. It was wrong of me to say that. God, Y/N, you could never be a liability. You’re an amazing agent. You never would have made it if you weren’t. I never should have said that. I was worried. You were with that unsub all by yourself for god knows how long and could have been seriously hurt. It was wrong. I never meant it,” He was rambling. He knew. Hotch could also feel the tears track down his face.
“You mean it?” Your voice comes out small and weak, you fight back your own tears.
Hotch nods rapidly. “Every word. When this happened. I was so scared Y/N. I can’t lose you.” His head falls to the mattress, trying to hide the tears.
You take a deep breath and decide to try your luck. Today has to be a day of defeating odds. “Aaron,” that causes his head to shoot up. It’s your first time calling him by his name. “Aaron, look, I gotta tell you. I can’t just make it through that and keep quiet about this anymore, who knows about the time. Oh boy, I just- ah- I like you Aaron. More than I probably should, given that you’re my boss but it’s true,” you refuse to meet his eyes, scared of what you’d see.
“Y/N,” he pauses, “Y/N look at me,” his voice is gentle, coaxing you to meet his eyes. He smiles despite the tears. “I like you too. I’ve tried to hide it for so long. I did, but I can’t do it anymore.”
You laugh and then grimace from the pain radiating in your chest. You brush off Hotch’s concern. “I’m fine. If we do this though, we have to do it right. Not just getting together because of the high of relief that we both probably feel. Okay?”
“Of course, we’ll take it slow.”
Despite everything, you’re happy right now. On painkillers, and definitely traumatized, but right now, in this moment, you’re happy. It only gets better when the rest of your team, the best friends you have, flood the room. Everyone is high on the relief of survival and all-in-all, it could only be better if you weren’t stuck in the hospital.
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 3)
Chapter summary: The morning after, and you and Aaron are getting back to your old routines, and you go to the BAU for the first time.
Warnings: mentions of smut, but nothing really explicit.
A/N: thank you all so SO much for reading this story!! i love that you all are enjoying it! icymi, i went ahead and put up an intro + blog rules that you can read here!! Please, please read these are they do apply to this story!
masterlist || read on ao3
And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end
Masters of the scene
We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more
You know what I mean
-ABBA, “Voulez-Vous”
~~~~~~~
You woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee wafting throughout your apartment. Still half asleep, you slowly blinked your eyes open and slid out of bed. You cursed to yourself as you stood up; your whole body was sore. A small grin grew on your face as you realized exactly why you were sore, the memories from last night coming back to you.
You walked out of your bedroom to your kitchen, where you were greeted with the gorgeous view of Aaron, hair wet and still in just the sweatpants he borrowed. Clothes from last night were scattered around the living room, untouched. “Mornin’,” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
Aaron, on the other hand, looked wide awake. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind, I took a shower and made some coffee,” he greeted.
“It’s fine, as long as you made enough for me,” you told him through a yawn, although it was unnecessary, considering you were almost positive that he prepared you some coffee already. Mornings after with Aaron weren’t exactly domestic, per say, but they were efficient and friendly. Both of you knew you had your lives to get to, and you were willing to help out the other one to make sure they succeeded. The routine worked, and you had grown to look forward to it.
Aaron just chuckled and pointed to your refrigerator. “Already done. You still take it iced with caramel syrup, right?”
If the fact that Aaron remembered your coffee preferences after so long made your heart skip a beat, you elected to ignore it. It’s not like it was a complicated order. Instead you just sauntered towards the fridge, brushing past Aaron’s bare skin on your way over.
Aaron turned to look at you as you grabbed the drink out of the fridge. Now that you were more awake, you could actually take in Aaron in all of his morning after glory. Even with it damp, his hair was fluffier and falling into his eyes, free from any styling product he usually used. His shoulders were relaxed and, you noticed with a smirk, broader than they were before. So he had been working out...
It wasn’t until you got to his bare torso that a soft gasp left your lips, your heart sinking to your stomach. There were nine, almost identical scars, all raised and seemingly staring right at you. You had been so distracted last night that you hadn’t noticed them, but now you weren’t sure how you didn’t see them. They looked healed, but they weren’t faded much, and they definitely weren’t there last time you saw Aaron.
“Aaron,” you whispered, unable to take your eyes off the thick white lines covering him. “What happened?” Almost as if you were in a trance, you reached out to him, wanting to run your fingers over the scars.
Aaron moved to the side quickly so that he was out of your reach, his eyes hardening. He immediately went into defensive mode. “Nothing that you need to be concerned about,” he said firmly, signifying the end of the conversation.
Really, he should have known you well enough to know that you would keep pressing him. “Are you okay?” you continued, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
Aaron walked towards his discarded shirt from last night, putting it on quickly so that the scars could be out of sight. “These weren’t meant to kill me,” he said finally, sadness seeping into his words.
That’s what made you decide to drop the topic. If the scars weren’t meant to kill Aaron, then they were probably supposed to be a torturous reminder, and based on his reaction, it was working. You also figured that it wasn’t just any serial killer who gave those to him, and bringing up his dead ex-wife's murderer wasn’t part of the lighthearted banter the two of you had perfected.
Clearing your throat, you quickly shifted the topic to fill the silence that was hanging over the two of you. You lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the countertop. “So... what time should I be at the BAU?”
Aaron finished buttoning up his shirt and was now reaching for his slacks, his back still turned to you. But his shoulders looked like they relaxed, even a little bit. He was grateful at the subject change. “As soon as you can. We want to try and wrap up this case as quickly as possible.”
“Shit, I still have to shower and get ready. You should have woken me up when you woke up,” you mused, taking a sip of your coffee.
Now fully dressed in the suit he wore yesterday, Aaron turned back to face you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile. “I tried,” he explained, slowly letting down his defenses again. “It was hard to tell with the covers you pulled over your head, but I think you told me to go fuck myself or something?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he made his way back towards you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you and standing in the space between your legs.
You just shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. “What can I say? I was spent last night and needed my rest,” you told him, feigning innocence.
If Aaron was trying to hide the pride in his eyes at your comment, he didn’t do a very good job at it. His eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “I should get going soon,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. “I still need to stop by my house to get a change of clothes.”
You placed your coffee to the side of you so that your hands were free to cup the sides of his face. “Probably,” you agreed, but you were still leaning towards Aaron. “But you’re the boss. Who’s going to get you in trouble if you’re a few minutes late?”
Your forehead was pressed against his by now and your thumbs were stroking his cheeks. You could see the desire in Aaron’s eyes, which you were sure was reflected in your own eyes, but instead of taking you right there on the counter like you were hoping he would, Aaron simply pressed his lips to yours, just long enough to leave you desperate for more.
“As tempting as the offer is,” he murmured, his lips still brushing yours. “I really do need to get to work to prepare for our meeting today. And... I’ll need the time to field all the questions I’m sure Dave will have for me about my sudden departure yesterday.” He added the last part as an afterthought, as if he just remembered that the entire BAU was watching the interrogation from yesterday.
You pulled away from Aaron ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow. “They know you’re here?”
Aaron shook his head, much to your relief. You weren’t sure if you would be able to face his entire team if they were all aware you had been sleeping with their unit chief. “Just David,” he admitted. “And that’s only because he figured it out before I could even come up with an explanation. But he covered for me and told the rest of them you were just one of Sean’s old friends, so if any of them ask…”
His words trailed off, but you understood what he was implying. You raised your hands in faux surrender. “Got it, don’t need to tell me twice. And don’t worry, no more flirting in front of your coworkers. I will be the epitome of a professional law intern. I can be a good girl when I want,” you teased, and you were rewarded as his eyes darkened.
“The way you said that makes me think you can’t,” he told you, his voice low.
You laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. The kiss was slow and deliberate and you could feel his lips curling into a smile. Aaron’s hand reached up to cup the back of your head, pulling you in closer to him. There was an unusual softness to the kiss, and you were surprised to realize that you liked it.
You pulled away reluctantly, looking directly into Aaron’s eyes. “You should go to work,” you reminded him. “I’ll be there in an hour or so.”
Aaron stepped away from you and made his way to the door, patting down his pockets to make sure he had everything. You slid off the kitchen counter, watching his every movement. Aaron hesitated as he reached for the doorknob and instead of just walking right out, he turned around to look at you. “When you said yesterday ‘If you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces’... Did you mean it, or was that just to get a reaction out of me?”
His words were hesitant and vulnerable, which was so unlike him that it took you a second to respond. You realized slowly what he was insinuating: He wanted to keep seeing you. The thought made you happier than you had expected, but that was something to unpack way later.
You kept your voice light in your reply, hoping to calm his nerves. “A little bit of both,” you joked, and Aaron gave you a small smile. “But to answer the inevitable next question, I also would like to see you again and continue this. At least, that’s what I’m assuming what you were going to ask, considering the amount of times you said I was yours last night. ‘My cock whore’ is a new one.”
Aaron let out a breathy chuckle, nodding to himself. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t have to. The two of you knew the rules to this relationship, and it was already coming back like it was second nature. So instead, Aaron just opened the door, leaving you with a “I’ll see you at the BAU.”
~~~~~~~
Luckily for Aaron, his house was on the way to the FBI headquarters, so he was able to change clothes and be in his office in only 30 minutes. He wasn’t there as early as he usually was, but it was still early enough as to not raise any suspicion, and nobody questioned it when he made a beeline to his office, giving general greetings to the people he passed.
When he sat down at his desk, Aaron really did have every intention to do the paperwork that was slowly piling up and consuming his entire office, but his mind was wandering too much to focus on bureaucratic red tape. Flashes of the night before sped through his mind.
He remembered the way Y/N begged for him to touch her and how good his name sounded coming from her lips. He remembered her face as she was pressed against the wall and the almost animalistic smile she had given him when he had his hand wrapped around her throat. He thought about how beautiful she looked as she was coming down from her orgasm, mascara tears running down her face, hair tangled and sticking in every direction, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, and the adoration in her eyes as he muttered praises to her.
Aaron hadn’t planned on asking to continue the situation he had with her. Last night was supposed to be the only time, considering the amount of baggage that came with that relationship for Aaron. He and Haley had technically been divorced when he first met Y/N, but it was just barely and it just toed the line of being a full blown affair. Going back to Y/N now could potentially complicate everything and bring up feelings about Haley that he had buried. But Aaron couldn’t deny that being with Y/N was a welcome distraction. There was no pressure to be “on” all the time. He didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt more at peace than he had in a long time.
“He needs to know you weren’t always so serious…”
A knocking on his office door shook Aaron out of his thoughts. His head shot up to see Rossi, who was leaning against the door frame with a knowing look in his eyes. “You know,” Rossi started before Aaron could even get a word out. He walked into the office and made sure to close the door behind him. “Pretending to do work is more effective when you actually have a file in front of you.”
Aaron audibly exhaled, gesturing for Rossi to take a seat, although it was just a formality; Rossi was going to talk to Aaron about the situation whether or not Aaron wanted to. Rossi leaned back in the chair and quirked up his eyebrows. “How was your night?” he asked, holding back his amused laughter.
“It was fine,” Aaron said in his monotone voice, but it was no use. Rossi just stared Aaron down, patiently waiting for Aaron to elaborate.
“Are you going to see her again?” Rossi pressed, and this time it was hard for Aaron to hide his smile.
Instead, Aaron just side eyed Rossi for a quiet moment. “I am,” he said finally before reaching for one of the files. He really did have to start on that paperwork, and maybe it would send Rossi a hint.
It did not. Rossi nodded approvingly at Aaron’s declaration of seeing this woman again and placed one of his hands on Aaron’s desk. “I’m glad. I think dating will be good for you. Getting back out there is healthy, Aaron.”
Aaron went completely still, thinking of the best way to respond to Rossi. “We are… not exactly dating,” he said slowly, ignoring the shock that flashed past Rossi’s face. For as close as Rossi and Aaron were, their sex lives didn’t come up in conversation much, and Aaron certainly didn’t have the reputation Rossi did. “And I would appreciate it if this stayed between us, at least until after the case. I know how quickly gossip spreads in this office, and I shudder to think what will happen once Garcia gets this information.”
Rossi chuckled and made a zipping motion over his mouth. “My lips are sealed. I am happy for you, though. Maybe she will finally be the thing to get you out of the office on time finally.” Rossi laughed to himself, like he had a secret. “Even if you’ll still be up all night. At least you’ll be de-stressing.”
A knock on the office door spared Aaron from having to hear any more jokes from Rossi at his expense. “Thank you for that pep talk,” he said sarcastically to Rossi before calling out “Come in!” and putting his Unit Chief persona back on.
Emily opened the door, blissfully unaware of the conversation that was happening between the two men just seconds earlier. “Sir, Y/N is here.”
Aaron cleared his throat, ignoring Rossi’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. “Good. We will meet in the round table room, go ahead and brief her. Dave and I will be there in a few moments. Thank you, Prentiss.” Emily nodded and left the room just as quickly as she came in.
Rossi tapped on Aaron’s desk as he stood up. “That’s our cue, but mark my words, Aaron. I will learn all about this mystery girl from you, even if I have to lock you in the interrogation room to do it.”
Aaron laughed ever so slightly at that and just nodded. “I will fill you in before it gets to that,” he promised, and was surprised to realize that he meant it. Somehow over the years, Rossi had become his closest confidant, and it was comforting to know that Rossi was encouraging of this new relationship, as unconventional as it was. “But right now we have a case to focus on.”
~~~~~~~
You knew that the FBI headquarters was going to have high security, but three checkpoints seemed a little excessive to you. Nevertheless, you clipped the shiny visitor’s badge onto the waistband of your pants and waited for the elevator to take you to the correct floor.
It was weird to be going to the BAU, even if it was just for a case. It felt like you were encroaching on Aaron’s personal and professional life, something you never intended to do. You were happy being blissfully ignorant about Aaron’s coworkers. You knew a few of your names and that was all you ever needed to know. Being at the BAU was mixing up the carefully compartmentalized lives Aaron and you had built.
The elevator doors opened and you cautiously stepped out, trying to find your way around. You really should have paid more attention to Agent Prentiss when she was giving you instructions. Luckily, you were in a building full of profilers and one of them noticed your inevitable look of confusion.
“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” they asked, and you nodded quickly. “I’m Agent Derek Morgan. You can follow me, I’m one of the agents on the case.”
You followed Derek through the glass doors and to one of the desks in the bullpen. He said something to another agent- Prentiss, you remembered- before gesturing for you to sit down. “Would you like a coffee or water?” Derek offered offhandedly, but his eyes were scanning you up and down, obviously trying to profile you.
Following on your promise to be professional, you had put on a nice pair of grey plaid slacks and a satin button up blouse- an outfit you had worn to your internship and to court a million times. But Derek’s gaze seemed more than just surface level profiling. It felt like he distrusted you. And then it hit you. He was probably watching you in the interrogation room yesterday, as you shamelessly flirted with Aaron. Everyone you were about to meet probably saw it, and they were all going to try and figure you out.
It had seemed funny in the moment, when you didn’t think you would ever have to see these people again, but now? Not so much.
You idly considered taking Derek up on his offer, just to keep him from profiling you any longer, but that would just give him the opportunity to share his findings with the rest of the office. It was easier to keep him close. “No thank you,” you said finally, giving Derek a polite smile. Despite what they had seen yesterday, you were excellent at networking, and you knew how to charm a room. Getting these profilers to like you wouldn’t be too hard.
Derek studied you a little closer, but your eye contact was unwavering. “How do you know Hotch?” he asked.
Thank God Aaron had warned you about this. “I was friends with his brother, Sean,” you lied coolly. “I met Aaron through him and he was nice enough to let me interview him when my studies revolved around an old prosecuting case of Aaron’s.”
Derek looked like he wanted to ask you more questions, but you were saved by Jennifer gathering the team and you to meet in a conference room.
Despite the fact that you had met a good portion of them yesterday while being interrogated, everybody reintroduced themselves to you, albeit much friendlier. Now that you weren’t in handcuffs, the team warmed up to you quickly.
You also chose to formally introduce yourself to the team, considering that you were still probably just a file in their minds. “And I apologize for making your jobs more difficult yesterday,” you added onto the end, only half joking.
JJ- which Jennifer insisted you call her- gave you a comforting smile as she walked to the front of the room. “We understand. Interrogation rooms are designed to get those sorts of reactions.”
You were about to reply when the sound of footsteps caused you all to turn your heads towards the door. “Good, you started,” Aaron interrupted, making his way to the front of the room. “Y/N, glad you could make it.”
You just greeted him with a polite nod, before turning your focus to David Rossi, who was introducing himself to you. He had a good enough poker face, but you caught a mischievous glint in his eyes. At first, you were confused, but then you remembered that he knew Aaron came over to your place last night. Maybe he knew even more, which was an uncomfortable enough thought. You didn’t have time to focus on that at the moment.
You stood up to shake Rossi’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, really,” you said simply, your voice light and polite. You had been around the DC law scene long enough that you knew exactly how to get people to like you. “I’ve written about you and your books for my classes.”
Rossi tilted his head to the side slightly. “I didn’t realize my books translated to law courses,” he questioned, sliding into the seat next to you. You took that as your cue to sit back down.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Aaron watching the interaction carefully, causing anxiety to bubble up in your stomach. He had never seen you in a work or academic setting, with the exception of that first meeting, but that hardly counted. He had read some of your academic work, would help you with the occasional homework assignment, and even let you practice your mock trials runs with him while he gave you pointers, but he had never seen you truly in action. The thought unsettled you.
“I’m in a joint degree program,” you explained proudly. You had to make an appeal to the school to allow you to do this joint degree, and you’ve busted your ass ever since. “On top of my JD, I’m getting my masters in Forensic Psychology. I’ve studied your past cases and examined the ethical implications involving your interrogation techniques, specifically when working with offenders with severe mental health issues.”
You regretted the words as soon as you said them. To anybody else, it would have been impressive. Even some of the other profilers were intrigued by the concept, but saying it directly to David Rossi was a whole different ballpark. To his credit, he just chuckled good naturedly, seemingly completely unbothered by your comments. “I can only imagine what they’re saying,” he joked. “Interrogations are very different now than they were back when I started in the FBI.”
“Rossi,” Aaron interjected, and that word was a simple warning. He was obviously trying to stop the conversation quickly. Tension hung in the air briefly as Aaron, Rossi, and you all remembered the unspoken secret the three of you were sharing. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotcner smut#aaron hotchner fanfiction#my best habit#aaron hotchner#hotch x reader#my writing
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
In My Veins 1
Derek, Spencer, JJ and Emily are involved in a car crash. How will the BAU come to terms with the fact the one of them may not make it?
JJ/Will (mentions)
Derek/Spencer (sort of)
and of course, Emily/Aaron
TW// mentions of car crash, mentions of blood and internal bleeding
———————————————————————
“everything will change nothing stays the same nobody is perfect, but everyone’s to blame”
———————————————————————
Just one day ago the team sat in Rossi’s garden enjoying a sunday afternoon off in the sun.
JJ watched as Will and Spencer played a game of two a side football with Henry and Jack, a smile on her face as she listened to her son laugh, before turning to talk to Garcia.
Derek grilled the BBQ, cheering on for Spencer and Jack, winking at his boyfriend when the man turned around and threw a thumbs up when he scored.
Rossi and Emily speak as he pours them both another drink from the outdoor bar he’d just bought. Aaron came up behind her and wrapped his arm round her waist, kissing the side of her head as she leaned into him. Rossi had rolls his eyes at the couple before making Aaron a scotch and telling the two of them to get a room. but not one in his house. please.
Just one day ago the team were happy, laughing and enjoying their day off in the sun.
Now they didn’t know if they’d ever have a day like that again.
-
Aaron is sat in the waiting area of the hospital, his eyes on the wall in front of him while he grips hold of her necklace in his hand that he had made into a fist. His mind runs back to the scene, him and Rossi running towards the car that was at the bottom of the hill, upside down and smashed. He remembers the feeling of absolute dread the minute he caught sight of the vehicle for the first time. The absolute fear when he only saw JJ and Morgan stood there talking to each other while they tried to open a car door. He closes his eyes as Dave takes a seat next to him and places a hand on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath.
“She was only in the back because-“
“Don’t.” Dave stops him, “This isn’t your fault.”
“She shouldn’t have even been with them.”
“I know.” Dave tells him, “But she was. There is not point working yourself up about things you can’t change.”
“She could d-“
“Stop it.” Dave orders, Aaron looks at the older man. “Emily will be fine.”
Aaron turns away and swallows, opening his hand and looking at her necklace that was full of her blood, as were his hands, his shirt, his blazer.
“Yeah..” Aaron whispers while he looks down at the piece of jewellery she’d wore everyday since he’d known her. But he’s not sure he believes it. He’d been with her. He’d seen her, and he didn’t know if a person came back from those injures.
“Go and clean up.” Dave tells him, “When she wakes up she’ll want to see you and I don’t think she’d appreciate you being covered in her blood.”
The unit chief nods and stands up, before walking away slowly towards the toilets.
JJ comes and sits next to Rossi, her arm in a cast, stitches on her head and a busted lip. She’d gotten the best of it. Her worst injury a broken arm a few bruised ribs and Dave could see from the look on her face that the guilt of that was eating her alive.
“How is he?” She asks gently, looking at him with wide eyes.
“He’s coping.” Dave nods, JJ looks to the ground.
“This isn’t fair.” She mumbles, “Why have I only got this but she got-“
“JJ-“
“Maybe if- Why didnt- if we had half of each other’s injures...” She spoke, unsure of how to even word how she felt but knowing Rossi would understand.
“I know.” Rossi nods, “But, we have to think positive right now. For Emily.”
“For Emily.” She nods, and they sit in silence for a few moments before her phone rings, making the both of them jump.
“It’s Will..” She says, Rossi smiles and she takes the call, staring and heading outside.
He looks around the waiting room and the absence of the dark haired, rowdy, agent was sickening. In moments like this he truly realises how easily one of them could be ripped away. How one car crash can leave one of them fighting for their lives, while the others sit and wonder why her? why not them?
Derek finds himself pacing up and down as he mumbles, trying to force himself to remember what happened. How this happened.
His doctor had told him he had to rest, that he had a concussion and several fractured ribs but he couldn’t, he needed to be with his team, he needed to be with them because what if- no. he couldn’t think like that. she’d be fine. she had to be fine. When he wasn’t pacing the waiting room he was stood at Spencer’s bedside, watching as he slept off the morphine from his surgery. The genius had a broken leg from impact, several broken ribs and a concussion, but he had needed surgery due to the internal bleeding from his abdomen. An injury he had ignored while trying to get to Emily before Dave and Hotch had showed up.
Rossi watches as Morgan once again walks back into Spencer’s room just as Garcia walks out.
Garcia takes a deep breath as she squeezes Dereks hand as he passes her, she watches Derek take a seat next to Spencer’s bed and watch him. The rise and fall of his chest. He places a hand in his and Penelope walks away with a sad smile. She takes a seat next to Rossi and looks around.
“Where did JJ go?”
“Will called.”
“Ah..” Garcia says, “He’s on his way I imagine.”
Rossi shruggs in response as Garcia looks away.
“She’s gonna be fine, right?” Penelope asks him.
“Yeah.” Dave tells her with certainly that he doesn’t have. not really.
“I mean it’s Emily. She survives everything.”
“Exactly.” dave says and grabs the woman’s hand and squeezes it.
“God what if-“ She stops and shakes her head, “She’s the glue, you know? She brings us all together. Without her...” Garcia trails off softly, she looks towards Hotch as he walks out of the toilets in a new, bloodless shirt and with clean hands.
“Without her, we loose him. for good this time.” JJ says as she takes a seat next to Rossi. “He came back after haley because of her, because she was there for him... she was able to bring him back.”
“If we loose Hotch...” Garcia says, “If we loose Hotch we loose everyone.”
“Emily is going to be fine.” Dave tells the women, “Nobody is loosing anyone.”
“I think we should prepare for that possibility...” JJ tells them sadly, “She has major, major injuries... the car... it hit her straight on. She-“
“I know.” Rossi says, stopping the woman from making him relive the scene from the crash.
The begs of Aaron asking her to hold on for him. for them. The cries of Spencer and Derek as they tried to, once again, lift the car door that was on top of her, lodged under something that was so much stronger than them.
He can still hear her sort breathes, her soft whispers, her coughs, her choking on her own blood, the way she was trying to assure aaron that it was okay.
He can hear the panicked way Aaron shouted her name a few minutes before the paramedics came.
He was brought from his thoughts when Derek walks out of the room and he stands up, another scene between a worried, scared, heartbroken Aaron and a guilty, shaking, injured Derek was not what they needed. not again. not right now.
Aaron spots derek at the same time other man spots him and Derek can’t help but walk over.
“I’m so sorry.” He tells his boss, his friend, who may loose the women he loves because of him. because he didn’t see the car. he didn’t move out the way fast enough. he swerved the car down the hill and he put spencer before emily. “I didn’t see the car, Hotch. I didn’t see it- And- If she- I’m sorry. This is all my fault and I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself if-“ Derek is crying now, standing a few feet from Aaron, and Dave takes a step forward as Hotch heads towards him, before stopping when Hotch wraps the crying man into his arms.
“It’s not your fault.” Aaron tells the man, and Derek nods against his shoulder and his arms come around the man’s back. “None of this is your fault.”
“I should have seen the car-“
“No.” Aaron tells him, “It could have happened to anyone. This isn’t your fault.”
“I’m sorry.” Morgan whispers to him, Aaron just pats the man on the back and nods.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He tells him.
The men pull away and Aaron nods, before walking to take a seat in the spot he was sat in before and just stares at her necklace in his hand.
In his mind he doesn’t see her bleeding out in front of him while he tries to keep her conscious, he doesn’t hear her chocking as she tries to breathe or the way her voice is barley a whisper. He doesn’t feel her fading away while he watches derek and spencer try and get the door off her.
He see’s them on Saturday mornings, her laughing at something stupid he’d said while reading the paper. He sees her smiling as he places a gentle kiss on her forehead when he passes her, he hears her softly telling him she loves him in the dark, he hears her talking to his son about anything and everything the boy brings up. He hears her giggle as he kisses just the right spot. He remembers the way she reaches for him in the night, the way she will bury her face in the pillow if they’re woken up before seven, the way her smile can change his mood instantly.
He remembers the way she loved him and the way he loved her.
Aaron is then pulled from that with words that come before the ones that could change the course of his life forever.
“Family of Emily Prentiss?”
All five of them rise.
JJ grabs Garcia’s hand. Rossi holds his head high, trying to not let the fear that he may loose his favourite person take over, Derek just looks ahead and Aaron holds his breath and grips her necklace and they brace themselves.
Just one day ago the team were happy, laughing and enjoying their day off in the sun.
Now they didn’t know if they’d ever be a team ever again.
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
what if - chapter 4
summary: a long lost letter leads to an adventure in Italy for three people who find love and healing along the way. a letters to juliet au
pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader words: 1841 a/n: alright, getting into some of the meat of the story! this one is longer and the original chapter 4 was so long I broke it up so now there is a planned nine chapters for this fic. chapter 5 is written and will be queued up for sunday’s post, but as my parents are visiting, chapter 6 might be delayed. I’ll try my best not to but no promises. a huge thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo for the beta!
what if masterlist
The next day, there’s less tension between you and Aaron. He’s more amenable to talking to you and even smiles at you in the rearview mirror of the car. There’s a smile on your face as you write in your notebook, keeping track of the Carolyn’s you visit and adding to your story. The radio’s on and once Dave had found a station he liked, he forbade Aaron from changing it. Not that he’s listening to the music. He talks over the music, filling the car with stories from his summer spent with Carolyn, the afternoons they spent together in the fields and the nights spent walking through the trees in the moonlight.
You smile wistfully as you listen to the adventures - and troubles - Dave and Carolyn had gotten into. Aaron even quirks his lips in a ghost of a smile. It’s a small thing, something you would have missed a few days ago but now find yourself noticing it. Even catching his eyes a few times in the rearview mirror.
So far, the Carolyn’s are proving to be a bust, no one Dave recognizes. The map you’d marked up with all their locations is spread out on the hood of the car and you and Aaron are leaning over it, trying to agree on where to go next.
“That one’s isolated! If we go there, we’re done for the day,” you argue.
“Exactly. One more for the day and then back to the hotel,” Aaron says, crossing his arms over his chest. You shake your head at him, trying to avoid looking at his forearms. The bands of muscles spanning his forearms are flexed and on display in his polo shirt, they keep catching your eye and you just turn back to the map.
“It’s early afternoon. We cannot just visit one more Carolyn, even with driving time that’s leaving too much on the table.”
“We’ll get those two tomorrow morning, they head out towards some of the others,” Aaron points out. You scrunch your eyebrows, bending closer to the map.
Shit, he’s right. You sigh and stand up. “Fine, we’ll do one more today.” Aaron just quirks his lips into one of his smiles, and you huff out a breath and fold up the map. Dave chuckles as he watches the two of you, Aaron smirking as he puts his sunglasses back on and you grumbling.
Choosing to visit only one more Carolyn Bartolini turns out to be a smart idea for many reasons. The one on the way back to Siena takes a bit to find. Since it turns out to not be a simple house, but a whole estate. There’s a winding drive to the large house that is surrounded by land, hosting gardens and crops.
“Look at that, Dave,” Aaron says, looking around as he drives down towards the house, “you may have gone from a girl who worked in the fields to a woman who owns them. And you got to skip all the messy bits in the middle.”
“Life is the messy bits,” Dave scoffs, hitting Aaron on the shoulder. Aaron clears his throat, looking a little sheepish and you smile softly, silently agreeing with Dave. The messy bits, the adventures, they made life interesting. You look out the window, heart squeezing with the missing presence of your partner.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts as the car turns off, shaking your head and taking a steadying breath. You and Aaron trail behind Dave, letting him do the talking. The person who answers the door beckons the three of you inside, leading you towards the garden and Carolyn. The garden is lush and gorgeous, filled with flowers and perfectly trimmed hedges. You walk along the hedges, letting Dave and Carolyn talk. You can overhear their conversation, talking about that summer Dave spent in Italy and Carolyn answering his questions, but you can tell that this isn’t the right Carolyn. Her answers aren’t right, not specific enough, and you can hear the disappointment seeping into Dave’s voice. But Carolyn keeps talking and responding, obviously trying to impress Dave.
You make your way back towards where Aaron is standing and cross your arms over your chest. Dave’s words from the car are still rattling around in your head and pulling your thoughts towards your partner, the messy bits of life you’d shared and the adventures you’d promised to share. You turn your attention to where Carolyn is fawning over a melancholy looking Dave, trying to impress him. It's not an unfamiliar scene at this point, Dave can apparently charm any woman, even if she’s not the one he’s looking for.
“I wish I was your Carolyn, I would have enjoyed a life with you,” she’s telling Dave as they walk over to you and Aaron, “but I also would not have let you go in the first place.” Dave smiles at her and you all say goodbye.
As you walk back to the car, step in step with Dave, you smile and ask, “What is it with you and Italian women? They just fall at your feet.” Dave chuckles and you catch Aaron’s quirk of a smile, happy you managed to make both men happy for a moment.
By the time you get back to the hotel, all three of you are exhausted. Aaron walks with Dave to his room, wanting to make sure he’s alright and bring him anything he might need. You head back to your room alone, already planning on spending the evening writing. There’s a good amount in your notebook and you want to start getting it into a document. You might even reach back out to your old boss, talk about coming back to work in a different capacity once you return to New York and feel ready.
You settle at the desk in your room, laptop out and booting up, and feel yourself get pulled into the rhythm of writing an article. The notes and thoughts in your notebook aren’t terrible, but polishing them into a more cohesive story fills your evening and you look up at one point for a break and realize it’s nearly dinner time. There’s a simple room service menu you order from before sitting back down in front of your laptop to continue working. The knock on the door announcing the arrival of your food pulls you from your trance. As the hotel employee wheels the cart out of your room, you hear a knock on the doorframe.
Aaron’s voice is calling your name and when you peak your head around the wall to the door, you see him holding the door open. “Oh, come in,” you tell him, standing up from the desk chair.
“Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get dinner, but you seem to already have that figured out,” Aaron points out.
“Yeah, I’ve been working on the story and didn’t want to stop so-”
“Can I read it?”
You blink at him. “Uh. No, not yet. It’s not ready.”
Aaron takes a step towards you. “Come on, just a little bit. I want to make sure you’re telling the story right. That I’m being portrayed accurately.”
“Trust me, you’re being portrayed accurately. No worries there.”
Aaron huffs out a breath and shoves his hands into his pockets, raising his eyebrows at you. “Oh really?”
“Yes, really,” you laugh. You push off from the desk and grab Aaron by the shoulders, turning him towards the door. “Now leave me be so I can work in peace.”
He says your name, almost in a whine and you roll your eyes, opening the door. “Out. Goodnight Aaron.”
“Just one paragraph, please,” he protests as you shove him out of your room.
“Goodnight Aaron,” you say with a tone of finality.
“Goodnight,” he says, the door swinging shut in his face. You settle back in at the desk, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
The next morning, you search the patio for Aaron and Dave. They tend to beat you to breakfast and you figure today is no different. But you can’t find them anywhere so you simply grab yourself some food and sit at a table, facing the entrance to the breakfast area. You keep an eye out for them as you fix yourself a cup of coffee and pick at the pastry you’d gotten, pouring over your notebook.
“Ah, good morning.” You look up to see Aaron standing by the table. You smile, tapping your pen against your cheek.
“Morning,” you say as he sits down. There’s a comfortable silence as Aaron pours himself coffee and you concentrate on your notebook. It's still just the two of you at the table after a few minutes. “Where’s Dave?” you ask, eyes still scanning the pages of your notebook.
“He said he wanted to sleep in today.”
Your head snaps up and you look at Aaron. “Is he okay?” You can hear the slight panic in your voice, mind already racing with where the closest pharmacy is and what could possibly be wrong.
Aaron says your name, eyes locking on yours and cutting through your worry. “He’s fine, just tired,” he assures you. You let out a breath, nodding. “So he’s going to lie in for the morning. I was thinking about, uh, going into Siena and seeing the sights. Since we’re here you know.” He shrugs, glancing over to you.
“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” You turn back to your notebook, plans for working on your story filling your thoughts. Aaron lets out a soft scoff and you look up at him, confused. “What, it is a good idea! You should go explore. I’ll stay here and work on my story.”
Aaron looks out towards the city, his thumb running over his other fingers, nerves coursing through him. “Right, work on your story,” he mutters. “Of course.”
You look up at him, taking in his pose, how tense he looks. Quickly, you glance at your notebook and think it over in your head. You’d gotten a lot of work done the night before, the story was coming together quite nicely. Taking time away from it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. And the way Aaron’s holding himself, the way he was talking, it’s almost as if he wants you to come with him. You shake that thought, thinking of how callous and rude he’s been to you this entire trip, how dismissive he was of the entire plan to find Carolyn. But, you are here in Siena. Adventures in Italy, you hear your partner whisper, as if their voice had been carried by the breeze.
You sigh and place your pen in between the pages of your notebook, saving your place. “Since we’re here,” you say grabbing Aaron’s attention, “we might as well explore.” He flashes you one of his small smiles and you return it, before putting your notebook in your bag and standing up. “C’mon Aaron, show me the sights.”
taglist: @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner @kelstark @hurricanejjareau @oreogutz @whentheautumnleavesfall
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#gender neutral reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#letters to juliet#letters to juliet au#my writing#fic stuff#what if tag#charlie rambles
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
drunk dancin’ : d.d
brief summary: being fun drunk with david on a night out with the vlogsquad
word count: 1.2k requested: yes, by a very sweet anon. i hope you like the outcome angel! warnings: none that i’m aware of
* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)
“What’re you laughing at?” Zane chuckles as you lean against the wall, reaching out for David as laughter continues to leave your lips.
Struggling to form words, you force yourself upright, stumbling over your feet as David walks over and wraps an arm around you. “She’s laughing at my hair.” He complains playfully, looking at you with those big brown eyes.
“It’s fluffy,” You speak up, fluffing up his hair as he smiles to you. “and I like it like that.” You tell him quietly, oblivious to Zane recording you both as David leans toward you and whispers in your ear.
“Reminds you of this morning, huh?” He slurs and pulls away, watching as you nod before tugging on his hand toward the dance floor.
“I wanna dance, Dave.” You’ve completely forgotten what he said moments ago, falling back into the wave of tequila taking over your body as you sway your hips with David in tow.
Looking back at everyone with a pleading look, David watches as Mariah nudges him on toward you. “No turning back now, David. Y/n wants to dance.” She tells him and he lets out a sigh before finding you in the crowd.
Moving against you, he lets his hands wander over the curves of your body. Both of you are lost in the moment, in the movement of the song until it comes to an end and is replaced by some soppy love song.
“Nope, I’m not in the mood to cry to Whitney Houston.” You announce loudly, turning away from the dance floor and back to the booth where most of your friends are.
Sitting down with a thud, Natalie shuffles closer. “Where’s Dave?” She asks you.
“He’s right her-” Turning to your side, you expect to see David sat beside you, yet there’s no sign of him.
Looking around you notice everyone pulling their phones out and filming the dance floor. “You might wanna help out there, Y/n.” Natalie laughs as she falls against Todd, seeing the sight they’re focused on.
As you follow their gaze, your jaw drops at the image before you.
David is dancing in the middle of the dance floor, a small parting around him as he sways his arms. But that’s not the only reason for the evident shock from everyone; it’s the fact he’s singing along incredibly out of tune.
“I wanna dance with somebody!” He yells the lyrics to the ceiling, oblivious to you in front of him until you wrap your arms around his waist. “I wanna feel the heat with somebody.” He continues, this time focusing on you as you roll your eyes.
“Sing with him girl!” Someone yells from amongst the crowds surrounding you both and you cover your face before preparing to join in.
“Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody!” You sing, seeing David’s smile widen as he brings you into his arms.
“With somebody who loves me.” He mutters into your lips as he dips you down, receiving a series of cheers as he kisses you.
From the booth, everyone is filming. “I can’t believe he’s actually drunk enough to do that.” Matt states as Mariah smiles brightly, loving every minute of this.
“You know, she told me once a guy tried to do the dirty dancing lift with her in a club. She fell elbow first onto the floor.” Mariah explains, watching as you’re lifted up in David’s arms, disappearing into the crowd. “No wonder she’s loving this.”
After a while of dancing together, you glance toward your friends, seeing Mariah waving you down.
“Dave, come on.” You pull him lightly, seeing everyone from your group starting to get up. “We’ve ordered some ubers, I wanna eat.” You whine lightly, and David sighs in defeat, willingly being dragged from the dance floor as his hand remains intertwined with yours.
“But you owe me, okay?” He tells you as you guide him up the stairs to the entrance of the club, wandering out and straight into an Uber for you both.
As the uber drives off with you both in the back, David watches as you stare out of the window aimlessly. He stretches his arm over, resting his hand on your thigh and watches as you jump at the action before glancing down. “Don’t scare me like that.” You mutter to him as the driver remains oblivious.
David cannot help the smile that forms on his face as you focus on him with a bright smile and glazed eyes. “I love you, you know that, right?” He questions, seeing you raise an eyebrow before placing your hand on top of his.
“Of course I do,” You tell him. “and, and I love you too.”
*
Arriving back at David’s was a slight struggle. Zane was far too drunk to be left on his own and would be crashing out on the couch along with Matt for precautionary measures.
“Okay, I’ve got him,” Matt yells as you and David climb out of the Uber, watching the scene unfold in front of you as you both hang back.
“Ooh, what about Five Guys?” You suggest, continuing your conversation about what food to order.
David scrunches his face up. “We had that last night.” He reminds you as he wraps his arm around you, following in as Matt and Natalie force Zane through the front door as he limply hangs onto them both.
Natalie slumps Zane down on the couch and he simply lies unconscious. “Thank God for that.” She exhales deeply as she leans against the couch as you and David pass by, muttering about food to yourselves. “You guys know it’s like 4am, right?” She pipes up.
Turning around, David shrugs his shoulders. “Breakfast, then?” He suggests before heading back to his bedroom, following after you.
As he closes his bedroom door, he stands still for a moment as you begin to undress tiredly. “Stupid skirt.” You mutter as you tug on the zip as it refuses to budge. “I knew I’d regret you, piece of shit.”
Walking over, David kneels down in front of you. “I got it.” He hums as he tugs on the zip, pulling it down over your legs.
Stepping out from the skirt, you sigh. “Thanks, Dave.” You stroke his cheek before heading toward the dresser and getting out your PJs. “I’m so tired, I can’t remember the last time I danced like that.” You admit quietly as you turn around, seeing David looking over at you with a small smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You chuckle.
“Because you’re beautiful.” He comments, and you scoff lightly.
“You’re still drunk, baby.” You remind him as you change and climb into bed, waiting as he pulls his shirt off and jeans, climbing in the cold sheets beside you.
“I might be, but doesn’t mean it’s not true.” He mutters as he leans closer, kissing you goodnight. “I wonder if they got any good footage of tonight.” He contemplates, unaware of how much footage was actually captured of you both on a night off.
“Probably not much, maybe us dancing at most.” You shrug it off, oblivious to the amount of content and comments you’d wake up to.
#david dobrik#david dobrik imagine#david dobrik imagines#david dobrik fluff#david dobrik angst#david dobrik x reader#david dobrik oneshot#david dobrik writing#david dobrik au#vlog squad#vlog squad imagine#vlog squad imagines#vlog squad fluff#vlog squad angst#vlog squad x reader#vlog squad writing#vlog squad oneshot#vlogsquad#vlogsquad imagine#vlogsquad imagines#vlogsquad x reader#vlogsquad angst#vlogsquad fluff#vlogsquad oneshot
365 notes
·
View notes
Text
She’s The Prettiest Girl At The Party And She Can Prove It With A Solid Right Hook
Pairing: Dallon Weekes x Female Reader
Rating: General
Requested By: None
Word Count: ~3,900
Author’s Note: Wow, I started this story a LONG time ago. Like May. Anyway, I’ve always kinda liked the trope where one of the characters is from the wrong side of the tracks, but usually it’s the guy. Well I decided to change it around.
The frat house was packed with rowdy, drunk college kids, sweaty from the lingering heat of the day, as summer wasn’t giving up despite the school year starting. (YN) was with some friends, trying to finish her cup of warm, stale beer when the shoving started. She glanced over her shoulder to see a tall, lanky guy getting pushed around by one of the frat guys, her friend Abby’s ex-boyfriend Dave.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” Dave shouted at the other guy who looked rattled.
“Sorry dude, it was an accident,” the other guy replied, putting his hands up defensively.
“An accident?! You ruined my fuckin’ shirt!” Dave shouted, raising his fist. That’s when (YN) swung her fist right into the aggressor’s face.
“Oh my god!” She cried out, trying to shake out the pain that shot through her hand as the frat brothers looked on in stunned silence. The whole party seemed frozen, staring at the scene.
“Out! Get them both out!” Dave shouted as he held his nose, blood joining the beer stains on his shirt.
Before (YN) could realize what was happening, rough hands were pushing her toward the door. The air outdoors felt refreshing and cool as she stumbled down the stairs and into someone.
“Oh my god, you hit that guy! He was gonna hit me and you hit him!” (YN) looked up and saw it was the guy she had jumped in front of. He still looked shocked, eyes wide.
(YN) laughed from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. “I did! Oh my god! Oh my god, we should get out of here!”
“Yea. Umm, can I walk you home or something?” he offered, starting to calm down.
“That would be great,” (YN) replied as they vacated the lawn. “I live in the dorms.”
He nodded as they started to walk back toward campus. “Does your hand hurt?”
“I think it’s ok? No, nope, wrong, my hand really hurts,” she winced as she flexed her fingers.
When they reached the next streetlight, he took her hand and examined it. “If you can move the fingers, it’s probably not broken. Should probably ice it though. There’s a convenience store up ahead, we can get some ice there.”
“Thanks,” she replied.
“No, thank you!” He replied. “I’m Dallon by the way.”
“(YN). I’d shake your hand, but, ya know,” she shrugged.
“Do you normally haul off and punch guys in the face like that?”
(YN) laughed. “No, that’s my friend’s shitty ex-boyfriend. He’s always been an asshole, so when the opportunity finally presented itself, I had to take it.” Dallon laughed, the smile made his eyes crinkle, and (YN) noticed he looked pretty cute when that happened.
The conversation lulled as they walked down the street. The night was fairly quiet once they were away from Fraternity Row, music coming from the occasional house, breaking the silence. Eventually they arrived at the convenience store and they headed inside. They got a cup of ice and (YN) stuck her hand inside as they finished the walk back to her dorm. As they arrived at her building, there was a chime.
“Is that your phone?” Dallon asked
“Yea, hold this,” she said, handing him the cup as she reached in her back pocket with her good hand. “Oh my god,” she muttered. “My stupid friend Abby is apparently getting back with Dave now and she never wants to speak to me again because I hit him. Whatever.”
“I’m really sorry I ruined things between you and your friend,” Dallon said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“No, it’s fine,” she shook her head. “I just... I didn’t think that friendship was gonna last much longer anyway, ya know? We’re too different in too many ways.”
Dallon nodded. “Yea, I get it. Well, thanks again for saving me,” he smiled.
“Thanks for walking me home. I’ll see you around,” (YN) waved before heading inside.
~
(YN) wandered through the student union with her lunch tray in hand. It had been a few days since the fight and while the swelling and pain in her hand had gone down, she was starting to feel lost. Over the summer it had become clear that she was growing apart from the friends she had made during her freshman year, but the fact that they all abandoned her after one right hook still hurt.
“(YN)!” She heard someone calling. She glanced around and saw Dallon waving at her from an empty table.
She smiled and made her way over to him. “Hey Dallon, how’ve you been?”
“Good thanks. Wanna sit?”
(YN) felt her heart swell at the gesture. “Yea sure.”
“How’s the hand?”
“Getting better,” she replied, flexing her fingers. He reached out, took her hand gently, and examined it. She watched as his thumb ran across her knuckles before she looked up at his eyes. She hadn’t noticed them the night they met but they were sparkling blue. He looked up too and smiled.
“Thanks again, who knows what those jerks would have done if you hadn’t stopped that guy in his tracks.”
(YN) shrugged as she pulled her hand back. “Like I said, it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
“Weekes,” she heard a voice behind her say. She turned in her chair to see a few people looking at Dallon disdainfully.
“Hey,” he replied sheepishly as they walked past.
“What is your deal?” (YN) asked with eyebrows knitted together. “Making enemies wherever you go?”
“No, no, we were in a study group together last year and I told them I wouldn’t be working with them this year and I guess they’re… upset.”
(YN) nodded. “So what’s your major?”
“Music performance, you?”
“Marketing. So are you a singer, or play an instrument?”
“I play bass and sing,” he replied as he dug into his lunch.
“Good thing your hand didn’t get injured then. You need me to be your bodyguard full time?” She laughed.
“Maybe I should get your number so I can call in case I get into trouble again,” he asked with a sheepish smile playing at his lips.
“Oh you’re smooth. Gimme your phone then,” she replied with a smirk. “And feel free to call if you wanna hang out or whatever, not just when you’re causing problems.”
“Well in that case do you wanna get dinner tonight?”
“I’d love to, but I have to work,” she pouted.
“Where do you work?”
“Sunrise Cafe, on 2nd street,” she replied.
“I live near there, but I’ve never been,” Dallon confessed.
“Well feel free to stop by anytime. So, where do you live?”
“At 306 West,” he replied, almost embarrassed.
(YN)’s eyes went wide upon hearing that he lived in one of the most expensive apartment buildings off campus. “Wow! Well, feel free to come by anytime. It’s usually pretty slow in the evening, so any company is appreciated. Just don’t start any fights.”
Dallon laughed. “I think I can behave myself, at least for one night.”
~
“You come here often?” (YN) asked as she and Dallon were seated at a table in one of the nicest restaurants in town a couple of nights later.
“Only once before, when my parents came to visit last year,” Dallon replied.
“Well don’t I feel special,” she smiled coyly.
“You should,” Dallon replied and (YN) raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, you are special, you’re not like any other girl I’ve ever met I don’t think.”
“Ok I will accept that as a compliment,” she laughed.
(YN) quickly realized as they talked that their upbringings were vastly different, but that didn’t change the fact that she had a great time with Dallon. He really was quite charming and she enjoyed his company. When dinner was over, he drove her back to her back to her dorm, and even walked her to the door, his hand on her lower back.
“I had a nice time tonight. I haven't gone on a real date in a long time,” (YN) smiled.
Dallon smiled back as he ran his hand through his hair and (YN)’s stomach did a flip. “I’m glad. Would you like to go out again?”
(YN) nodded and took a step toward Dallon. “Yea,” she replied. “I’d really like that.”
Dallon seemed a little nervous as one hand found her waist. "I really like you (YN)," Dallon murmured.
“I like you too,” she said looking up in his eyes, her heart pounding as she leaned even closer to him.
“I really wanna kiss you,” he whispered, his lips so close to hers.
“Then you should,” she replied. He didn’t hesitate a second more, pressing his lips to hers, as his hand caressed her face. His large hand on her waist holding her close as she draped her arms over his shoulders. Her body curved into his as their lips moved together.
When she pulled back and looked into Dallon's eyes, he looked completely enamoured and she knew at that moment that there was no way that she wasn’t going to fall hard.
~
It didn’t take long for Dallon and (YN) to settle comfortably into each other's lives. He would stop by the cafe when she worked to keep her company during late shifts, and she’d listen to him practice bass for hours while she studied while making up little songs for her.
He cleared space in one of his drawers for her so she could stay over because he hated when she had to go at the end of the night. She loved waking up next to him, brushing his hair out of his face in the morning when they didn’t have early classes or work, and he’d smile softly in his sleep.
(YN) loved the way he looked at her like she was the best thing he’d ever seen, even when she just finished a long shift at the cafe and the way he touched her with such reverence that she’d never experienced before. At first she worried they were moving too quickly, but she didn’t care, it just felt right.
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Dallon asked in the middle of November.
“No, me and my dad never really celebrate it,” (YN) shrugged. “Are you going home?”
“Yea,” he paused. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Well I have to work the next afternoon,” she replied.
“Good, that gives us an excuse to leave early,” he laughed.
“Oh so that’s why you want me to come along!” She said with a smirk.
“No, that’s not it," he replied quickly.
"I know, I'm just giving you a hard time," (YN) laughed. “Sure, I guess this could be fun. Who doesn’t love meeting their boyfriend’s parents.”
~
The ominous feeling settled in the pit of (YN)’s stomach as soon as Dallon pulled onto his street. The houses were large and stately, set back on well manicured lawns. When he pulled into the driveway of his parents’ house, she took a deep breath before getting out and following him to the front door.
“Mom? Dad? We’re here!” Dallon called as they walked in.
“Oh wonderful! Hello, you must be (YN)!” Dallon’s mom said as she walked into the foyer.
“Yep, that’s me, nice to meet you,” (YN) said pleasantly. She was surprised to see how fancy the older woman was dressed since she was just in the kitchen cooking. Glancing down at her jeans and plain sweater, (YN) felt even more out of place.
“We have so much to talk about, Dallon doesn’t tell us hardly anything it seems. Let me show you up to your room,” she smiled and started up the stairs. (YN) shot Dallon a look and he shrugged before they both followed her. “(YN), we have the guest room ready for you. Dallon you’ll find your room just as you left it, for better or worse,” she laughed dryly.
“Thanks,” (YN) smiled awkwardly, setting down her bag.
“I have to go check the turkey. Dallon, go find your father,” she said before rushing back downstairs.
“That was,” (YN) said astonished, shaking her head.
“That was my mom,” Dallon nodded knowingly.
“So am I allowed in your room? Or is innocent little Dallon not allowed to have girls in there?” (YN) laughed, running her hand up his arm.
Dallon groaned in embarrassment. “Come on.”
A while later, they were sitting down to dinner with Dallon’s parents. (YN) could feel their eyes on her, silently picking her apart.
“So (YN), are you also pre-med?” Dallon’s mom asked.
(YN) was taken aback for a moment. Pre-med? Dallon told her he was a music major. She glanced over at him for clarity.
“No, umm, we met through mutual acquaintance,” Dallon answered.
“Yea, I’m a marketing major actually,” (YN) replied, her mind finally clicking back into gear. But she noticed the way his parents looked at each other with disdain.
“And what do your parents do?” His mom asked.
At this point (YN)'s defenses started to go up. “My mom split when I was little, and my dad works for Exact Medical Systems.”
That seemed to be a good answer, and their interest seemed piqued. “Is he a medical researcher?” Dallon’s dad asked.
“No, he does maintenance. Keeps everything running, so he’s really quite important,” she replied indignantly.
Dallon’s dad cleared his throat and the meal continued on in silence.
After everyone had finished eating, Dallon's dad called him into his office to speak with him. (YN) offered to help clear the table, but Dallon's mom insisted she didn’t need any help and hurried back to the kitchen as if it offered her sanctuary from (YN) and all her undesirable qualities. Unsure what else to do, (YN) retreated back to her room, but as she passed by the office she couldn't help her attention being caught by the conversation coming from the other side of the ajar door.
“Dallon, you cannot be wasting your time with a girl like that. If you expect to get into Harvard Medical School like I did, you need to focus on your studies. You need someone who has the same goals, the same expectations of their life, not someone that comes from a broken home without a clear direction or plan.”
“Oh you have got to be kidding me! Who are you to dictate to me how my life should go!”
“I am your father!” He bellowed.
“And you want me to be just like Eric. Blindly following in your footsteps, whether I like it or not!”
(YN) had heard enough. She turned and hurried up the stairs to her room and slammed the door behind her. She started to repack her bag as she tried to think of how she could get home with the small amount of cash she had on her. She was startled from her thoughts when there was a knock on the door.
“(YN)?”
She opened the door and let Dallon in. “What the hell is going on?!” She snapped.
Dallon sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
“Obviously,” she muttered as she zipped up her bag.
“Ok, let me grab my things,” Dallon replied. He took a step toward her and she just put her hand up to stop him.
“Just hurry up.”
He nodded in acceptance and hurried out.
Soon they were back in his car, driving back toward campus. (YN) didn’t hear anything further of what was said between Dallon and his parents, as she waited in her room until he told her that he was ready to go, and his parents made no attempt to stop them leaving. She sat silently with her head resting against the window. “Why did you lie about your major? Why didn’t you tell me you’re pre-med? When do you even study?” She asked, breaking the silence.
Dallon sighed. “I didn’t. Last year I was in the pre-med program, with a music minor. At the end of last year I changed programs because I, I just love music so much more than science. I just don’t give a damn about it, but my parents are paying for everything under the condition that I get into medical school. I can't tell them I've changed majors or they'll cut me off."
(YN) scoffed. "Oh because god forbid you have to take out a loan or apply for a scholarship or get a job like some plebeian! And what are you going to do for the next two years until suddenly you aren't going to Harvard or wherever? What then?"
"I dunno," he replied meekly.
"And I'm never gonna be the type of girl they want for you. God, it's like I'm in Legally Blonde, or Crazy Rich Asians or something! But life isn't a rom-com," she muttered. “There aren’t happy endings.”
"I don't care about what they think of you (YN)! I like you, a lot, and I want to be with you," he said emphatically.
"So I'll just be part of your secret double life? Take this exit," she sighed.
"This isn't the one for campus,"
"Just do it and then take the first left."
After a couple more turns into the neighborhood, they pulled up in front of a small green house that looked like it needed a new coat of paint and a patchy, brown lawn. "Dallon, this is why we aren't going to work. This is where I'm from and it’s why I'm not gonna fit in with your snooty, upper crust life."
(YN) got out of the car, pulling her bag with her and marched into the house. Dallon sat in stunned silence, her words reverberating through his mind. He waited, wondering if she was going to come back out. Then a light in a room at the end of the house turned on and he saw her silhouette in the window. She paused, and then drew the curtains.
~
A couple weeks later (YN) was working the last open mic night at the cafe before all the students left campus for winter break. The crowd wasn't huge, it never was on open mic night, but she still was busy. Eventually the lights dimmed and her coworker went up to announce the first performers.
"Ok, first up we have a duo called… I don't know?"
(YN) shook her head at her coworker butchering the band name, but her attention was quickly drawn to the small stage.
"Hey, my name is Dallon, this is my friend Ryan, we are I Dont Know How But They Found Me. Unfortunately that didn't fit on the sign up sheet." The crowd laughed and Dallon was grinning. "This first song is Modern Day Cain."
(YN) had avoided all the places she knew Dallon would be once she was back on campus after the Thanksgiving break, but suddenly he was right there. She tried to remain calm and focused on her work, but she couldn’t help but remember all the times she remembered him practicing those bass lines. When they finished the song, there was a smattering of applause.
"This next song is called I'd Be A Punk If My Mom Would Let Me," Dallon announced and (YN) couldn't help the snort of laughter that broke through the silence before the song started. The second song got a bit more applause as the crowd warmed to the band.
"Umm, this last song is a cover of a song by Frank Iero and the Cellabration. I'd like to dedicate it to a girl who probably wishes she could punch me in the face right now. It's called She's The Prettiest Girl At The Party, And She Can Prove It With A Solid Right Hook."
(YN) looked up from the spot she was wiping up on the counter and met Dallon's eyes. As she listened to the words that he was definitely singing right to her, she felt a tightness in her throat.
After the song was finished, they packed up their gear and the next performer took the stage. Between artists there was a flurry of people looking for refills of their coffee and tea, and (YN) lost track of Dallon, so she assumed he left.
At the end of the night the last few customers were getting up to leave when she spotted Dallon sitting alone at a table with his laptop open.
"We're closing," she said, walking over to him.
"Can we talk?" He asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes. (YN) shrugged and sat down next to him and he turned his computer to her.
"What's this?"
"I told my parents I switched majors."
(YN)'s eyebrows shot up in surprise and she leaned in to read the screen. Dallon’s email to his parents was emphatic, explaining about how he didn’t want to disappoint them, but he had to pursue what he loved. He couldn’t imagine years of schoolwork to ultimately be trapped in such an important job that he didn’t enjoy. His dad’s reply was nothing short of hostile, calling him a disappointment, berating him for wasting his intelligence, and ultimately informing him they would not be paying for anything starting with the upcoming spring semester.
"Do you need help filling out the student loan paperwork?" (YN) asked, sitting back.
Dallon shook his head. "No thanks, I think I got it figured out."
"But why'd you tell them now? Why not wait like you were planning?"
"Because you and music are the two things that make me happiest. I don't want to hide either anymore,” he said looking at (YN).
“We aren’t…” (YN) started, shaking her head as she trailed off.
“We could be again, if you’ll have me,” he replied, reaching out and taking her hand, his thumb running over her knuckles. “From the moment you threw that punch for me, I knew you were something special. You’re strong, clever, and beautiful and I’m sorry that my family made you feel anything less than that. And I’m sorry I was anything but completely honest with you from the beginning. I love you (YN).”
(YN) tore her eyes away from her hand in his to look out the window. It seemed to be snowing outside, but she couldn’t be sure since her vision was blurred by tears about to spill over. She sniffled and blinked hard, the tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Since that day I’ve been trying to think about who I wanted to talk to about all this with, but the only person I could think of was you. Over and over again I wanted to come running back to you Dallon. Because despite it all, I love you too.”
Dallon reached up and brushed away the tears away from her cheek "Please say we can be together again," he pleaded.
(YN) bit her lip and nodded. "I want my friend back. I want the person who I'd throw a punch for back. I want you back in my life because it feels empty without you."
Dallon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close as he could for how they were sitting. "I love you (YN), I love you so much," he murmured.
#dallon weekes x reader#dallon weekes fan fic#dallon weekes fan fiction#dallon weekes imagine#idkhow fan fic#idkhow fan fiction#college au
33 notes
·
View notes
Note
“i know you want to go to sleep, but you have to stay awake. please. for me?” JJ worrying over Emily, perhaps? (I’m really sorry for bothering you so much I just saw your “please send prompts” post and I’m in a Jemily mood haha I’ll stop if you want me to)
woof, this one was a punch in the gut!
Read it here on AO3!
...
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” -Lewis Carroll
…
Quiet and peaceful, the engines of the jet hummed through the frigid midwinter air, crossing over the Rocky Mountains. The case was solved, the children saved, and now they cruised over northern Wyoming in relative silence. Snowflakes danced outside the windows. Hotch and Spencer sat next to one another, each reading a book over the table, the latter with his leg crossed and resting in the former’s lap. Across from them, Morgan had kicked up his feet onto the seat beside him, earbuds playing in his ears, head tilted back and eyes closed. Rossi sat ahead of them, legs crossed, watching a show on his tablet. JJ sat on the sofa, Emily’s head in her lap, snoring peacefully.
The plane jolted. Emily sniffed awake. “Hm?”
JJ chuckled at her. “Good morning, sunshine,” she teased. Emily’s tousled hair and tired eyes pronounced her sleepy look. The plane kicked a second time. JJ carded a hand through Emily’s hair. “It’s just some turbulence.”
A third time, the plane leapt, and this time, Hotch’s coffee spilled onto the floor, and Spencer’s book jumped out of his hand. “Whoa.” Spencer bent over to grab the book, and a fourth kick pitched him onto the floor, Hotch scrambling after him to try to catch him.
“You alright?” Hotch asked.
“What the hell?” Morgan asked, ripping his earbuds out of his ears. “What’s going on?”
Emily sat up. The plane shuddered uncontrollably. “Guys, what’s going on?” Another jostling. The plane careened. Emily’s arms fixed to JJ. “Reid, do you know—”
“This isn’t turbulence,” he answered as he scrambled back toward his seat. “Maybe—” He cleared his throat, white-faced with terror. “Maybe somebody should go talk to the pilot—The weather was supposed to be clear to fly today—”
Rossi closed his tablet. “I’ll go talk to him, see if we need to land.”
“We’re over the mountains.” JJ’s heart leapt into her throat. “There isn’t anywhere to land.” No mountainous airport would accept landing during a winter storm. Outside, the snowflakes whipped past their windows. Rossi stood and opened the door to head into the cockpit.
An explosion shook the jet, orange and red and smoke and steam billowing past the windows. The jet lurched to the right. Hotch, Spencer, and Morgan rolled out of their seats and landed on Emily and JJ. “Guys—” Spencer squeaked. The impact knocked the breath out of him. Dazed, Morgan was silent, trying to pull himself up and looking around all befuddled.
“Dave!” Hotch called, fighting to sit upright. There was no answer.
The left wing detached. Shrapnel ripped past them. “What’s happening?” JJ couldn’t see past Hotch’s body where he wrapped himself around as many of them as possible, trying to shield them from the flying debris. Her heart floundered into her chest. We’re going to die. She didn’t need an answer; they were going to die. They were going to die in the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming in midwinter. Her arms coiled around limbs and bodies, left squeezing Emily, right clinging to Spencer.
“Hold onto each other!” Hotch’s voice shook in a way JJ had never heard before. His arms spread across them, all of them, like if he pressed them tightly enough together, they wouldn’t fall apart upon impact. Morgan pressed against her. I’m never going to see Henry again—
The screeching of metal ripping from metal pierced the air. The cockpit tore from the cabin of the plane. “Rossi!” Spencer shrieked. He extended a hand, as if he could somehow grab the cockpit where it crashed through the air and reattach it, but the front of the aircraft vanished from view.
The frigid air ripped over their faces and shredded their clothing. The cabin bounced off of treetops and began to splinter. “Spencer—” Hotch’s voice, ragged, and JJ realized she felt cold where a body had clutched hers before, We split up, it split us up, where are we going to land? and Spencer buried his face into her hair and she couldn’t feel Emily anymore. Emily, where are you?
When they struck the earth, JJ lost her grip on Spencer’s clothes. An explosion, and then another, propelled her away on a hunk of shrapnel, and another piece landed on top of her, pinning her to the searing metal and frozen earth. “Spence!” she screamed. I’m still alive. Oh my god, I’m still alive— “Spence! Help! I’m stuck! Hotch! Emily! Derek!” The metal would not budge against her floundering. She coughed. A fire was beside her, just out of reach; she could taste the soot on her tongue, and as the flames grew nearer, the metal heated up, burning her skin. Am I on fire? “Help! I’m burning! I can’t move! Can anyone hear me?” What if they’re all dead? What if she was the only one? What if she was going to slowly burn alive? What if—
“JJ—” Spencer’s breathless voice met her ears. She couldn’t see him, her view obscured by debris, but the sound of his voice brought her peace. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m—” He pushed on the sheet of metal. It didn’t budge. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, it’s just really hot—”
He shoved at it, but it refused to move. “Derek!” he called. “Aaron! Help! Can anyone hear me?”
“Over here—” Morgan lumbered through the snow, and the two of them flipped the sheet of hot metal off of JJ’s body. “We’ve gotta get away from this debris. All this gas—it’s going to go up in flames again—” He picked up JJ and lifted her to her feet.
The white of the landscape stung JJ’s eyes, made it difficult for her to focus. She found Morgan’s face first, a gash on his cheek and a limp to his step, and then her eyes darted to Spencer, with blood streaming from his ear and down his temple. She staggered over the wreckage. “We have to find Emily and Hotch.”
“Hotch!” Morgan called. “Hotch!” They scanned the scene of the rubble and the ice. “He was right next to me, but I lost my grip on him when it split us up, I think he was holding onto Emily—”
“Over here!” Dizzy and weak, Hotch’s head poked out from under the rubble. He swayed where he sat. Spencer knelt beside him, trying to help him to his feet. “Prentiss is—somewhere right here, I had her, I had her until we hit the ground—” He struggled upward. In his right hand, he clutched half of a patterned blouse—Emily’s blouse. “I tried to hold onto her, but her shirt ripped.” He spat blood and one of his teeth into the snow. His left shoulder hung droopy and useless, arm immobilized. “She’s gotta be right here—” He blinked over them, dazed, like he didn’t recognize them at first.
“Emily?” JJ called. “Emily, can you hear us?”
“She may not be conscious,” Spencer said, clinging to Hotch, who strung his right arm across his shoulders to keep him upright.
Then, her voice peeped out from under the refuse. “Uh, guys? I… I think I need a little help…”
They all descended upon the sound, shoveling glass and steel, until Emily pushed her way up. “Here, stand up—” Morgan went to pull her to her feet.
“I—I don’t think that’s the best idea—” Emily gulped, and she carefully dusted herself off. She was almost naked from the swath of her blouse Hotch had torn away, and there at the stretch of nude abdomen protruded a long steel pipe. Her lower lip trembled. She closed her eyes tightly, swallowing hard, trying not to look at it.
JJ dropped to her knees. “Oh, dear god.” What are we going to do? She put her arm around Emily’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” she promised, “it’s going to be okay—” Blood trickled from around the pipe where it had penetrated the soft of her stomach. JJ’s stomach turned. When she closed her eyes, the white landscape shimmered into a bathroom with a tub full of blood—
Flames lit up and caught a line of gas. “We have to move. Get her up, get her up—” Morgan and Spencer dragged Emily to her feet at Hotch’s command. She hissed in pain, and JJ stumbled along after them, trying to keep a hand on the small of Emily’s back. They arranged her some yards away in the snow under the shelter of some evergreen trees, and JJ perched beside her. “Emily—”
Her lips were blue. She shivered. “I’m fine, I—I can barely feel it—” You’re going into shock, JJ wanted to say, but she bit her tongue, afraid that saying it would reverse its effects. Instead, she squeezed Emily’s hand and looked desperately up at the others. “What are we going to do?” Emily asked between gasps for air.
What remained of the cabin exploded again.
Hotch shrugged out of his suit coat, baring his teeth as he pulled his broken arm from the sleeve, and then he carefully draped it over Emily, trying to preserve her modesty and give her some warmth. He was silent, silent after a question about leadership, and at the forlorn, uncertain look upon his face, JJ’s whole being pulsed with hopelessness. He cleared his throat. “Does anyone still have their phone?”
Morgan pulled his out of his pocket. The earbuds attached to it had melted. The screen was shattered, but— “It still has a charge, but I don’t have a signal.”
Spencer looked around at the terrain. “Up there.” He pointed, swaying vaguely, and Hotch held onto him to keep him from falling. “That ledge—You might be able to get one up there, if you can climb that far.”
“Spence,” JJ said softly, “that’s a quarter mile up.” Morgan was injured—they all were injured. They couldn’t climb mountains trying to get a cell phone signal. The terrain was icy and uneven. Morgan could fall to his death before he ever had the opportunity to make a call.
“I can do it,” Morgan said. He turned on his heel and marched up the jagged peak, still limping as he went. You shouldn’t. JJ could only stare after him in desperation as his figure vanished into the uphill slope of trees. Her hand pressed to Emily’s cold, windburned cheek.
Hotch looked around. “We’ll—We have to try to find something to make a shelter, at least something to keep us out of the wind.”
Spencer licked his lips. “If we drag off some of those metal sheets and prop them against the trees, we can make a lean-to.”
“What about the first aid kit?” JJ asked. “There has to be a first aid kit in the jet, right? That’s regulation.”
Swallowing hard, Spencer nodded. “Yeah. It is. It’s in the cockpit.”
At the mention of the cockpit, Emily upstarted, blinking a few times. “Where’s Rossi? Can we—Can we find him? How far away would he have…” She got short of breath and couldn’t finish her sentence.
“With the speed we were traveling and the angle with which he hit the ground, he could be up to a quarter mile away from us,” Spencer parroted.
Hotch touched his forearm. “We can’t worry about him right now. Hopefully he’s got access to the radio and will phone for help.” This statement had a preceding assumption, one none of them would put to the air—Hopefully he’s still alive. “Spencer, let’s go. We’re going to lose daylight fast.”
The sun encroached on the horizon. Emily coughed weakly, starting to recline backward, and JJ propped herself up behind her so she didn’t have to lie directly upon the frigid earth. “Emily?” JJ whispered, cupping her cheek again, trying to protect her face from the wind. Her ears were frozen, her fingers reluctant to bend, but she could scarcely feel the chilled weather. “How are you feeling, beautiful?”
Emily’s lips parted, buffering on the air, before she finally managed to produce some words. “I’m so sorry, Jayje.” Her breath whistled as she inhaled. She squeezed JJ’s hand with all of her might, feeding it underneath the sleeve of Hotch’s suit coat. They had so little, and he had sacrificed it to keep her warm. “I’m so sorry…” The wheezy cough quivered from her again.
“Why? Why are you sorry?” JJ pressed. “Em, tell me what’s going on in your head.”
“I’m so tired…” Emily exhaled the words.
JJ’s heart shattered. “No, no, no, you’re not tired, you’re not tired, no.” She patted Emily’s cheek more firmly now until dark eyes fluttered up to meet hers. “Listen to me, I know you want to go to sleep, but you have to stay awake, please. For me.”
A weak, pale smile tugged at Emily’s lips. “I love you.” She clutched JJ’s hand with all of the strength she could muster. She blew a short breath out her nose, and then she mumbled, “Didn’t think I deserved to get impaled twice… Might’ve deserved it the first time, but this seems… fucking excessive…”
JJ shook her head. “No, no, Em, no, you didn’t deserve it… It was a mistake, just a mistake. We saved you then, and we’re going to save you now. You just have to give us the chance.” Her eyes fluttered, fighting the urge to close. “I know you’re so cold.” JJ hugged her tighter, trying not to jostle her too much. “Morgan went right up over that ridge. He’s going to call for help. You know? He’s going to call for help, and then he’ll come right back. He was right there the last time, remember?”
“I remember.” JJ smoothed the dark hair out of Emily’s eyes. “I looked at him… thought at least I’d see someone who loved me before I died.”
“You’re not going to die. You’re going to be fine, and Morgan will be here, and Hotch and Spencer, and then we’ll find Rossi, and we’ll all be okay, I promise you. I promise you. I promise you—” I never break a promise, I never break a promise to anyone. JJ squeezed Emily’s hand. “Will you promise me to stay awake?”
A long, slow breath released from Emily’s lungs. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “Harder than it seems, though.” She turned her head. “You really think Rossi’s okay?”
I don’t know. I don’t think so. “I hope so.”
“I love you, Jayje.”
“I love you, too.”
Hotch and Spencer dragged sheets of metal into the copse of trees beyond them one by one, propping them up to make a shelter. The only suitcase that had survived was Emily’s, and they divvied up the winter gear between them; Spencer donned one of her coats, JJ took the gloves, Hotch took the toboggan, and the other coat JJ slid over Emily’s shoulders. Spencer used the things they couldn’t wear, her bras and her underwear and her tank tops, to line the frozen earth under the lean-to in an attempt to keep them off the frozen earth, and then JJ and Spencer pulled Emily to her feet and hauled her under the makeshift shelter.
The blood kept pouring from Spencer’s ear and temple. The more time passed, the more dazed he became, all bent over with his head resting on Hotch’s shoulder. “We should try to start a fire,” Hotch said, prompting Spencer with a nudge. “How do we start a fire?”
He didn’t answer. “Spence,” JJ said. “Spencer!” The third time, he blinked heavily, reluctantly rousing. “Fire,” she said. Are you okay? she wanted to ask, and she didn’t dare, because the answer didn’t matter—they were powerless to help him, to help Emily, to help themselves.
Spencer rubbed his eyes with his fists. Dark raccoon markings encircled his eyes. “I… I don’t know,” he breathed. “Rossi would have—he would have, um, the, um, the thing you—” He made a gesture with his hand.
“A cigarette lighter,” JJ provided.
Spencer nodded. “I don’t know where to find one.”
“There’s one in my suitcase,” Emily mumbled.
JJ narrowed her eyes. “Emily,” she reprimanded.
“Oh, fucking sue me, JJ—Reid, if you find my cigarettes, I want one of those, too.”
“Don’t give her one.”
Spencer pulled out the cigarette lighter and the half-empty pack of cigarettes. “Um—actually, ‘s’not a bad idea,” he said, blinking hard. “Vasoconstriction plus breathing in warm air will raise our body temperatures and blood pressures. I don’t think it could hurt.” He ignited the contents of the suitcase. Hotch wandered off and stumbled back with some branches, shaking them dry the best he could with one arm, and he slowly fed the fire one stick at a time.
By the time it blazed, the sky had fallen into blackness, and they all crawled under the lean-to. The wind blew the heat from the fire just outside into the shelter. Spencer’s weak hands struggled to strike the lighter. Aaron took it from him and struck it with his right hand, and Spencer’s shaking grip held a cigarette up to the flame. He coughed, a thin sound, not enough to produce anything, only enough to shake his thin, pale body.
Hotch flanked JJ, and Spencer reclined against him, his eyes no longer wanting to stay open, as they passed the cigarette around between them. “Morgan’s been gone for hours,” JJ whispered as she held the cigarette to Emily’s lips. The stench of burning tobacco clung to their breaths and their clothes.
Hotch hung his head. “I know.”
“‘M sorry,” Spencer mumbled. “I sent him away…”
Hotch nudged him. “Spencer, you have to stay awake.”
“It’s hard.” His voice was thick.
“Tell me about it,” Emily muttered in return.
The snow shifted and crunched just outside. Hotch upstarted, bracing himself, ready to barrel out of the shelter and fight if he had to. “Hotch? Reid? You guys in there?”
“Morgan!” JJ’s voice cracked.
He ducked into the shelter. “I’m sorry, it took forever—” He dragged bags in after himself. “Garcia’s sending help via helicopter. It’s going to be a few hours, but she has our coordinates.” He ripped open the first red burlap bag. “I—I could see the cockpit from the overlook. I got the first aid kit and the food bag.”
“You found Rossi?” Spencer asked in a small, broken voice.
Morgan’s eyes flitted up to them in the firelight, sorrow reflected in their depths.
Morgan had come alone. He wouldn’t have left Rossi alone in the cold. Not unless there was nothing else he could do. He unfolded his hand and held out the badge, and Hotch reached for it and took it, not saying another word. “Reid, can you get an IV started in Prentiss?”
Spencer nodded and rubbed his sleepy eyes, opening up the bag of saline and the pack of IV catheters. JJ lit another cigarette. “Why are we smoking?” Morgan asked.
“It’s my bucket list,” Emily muttered.
He gave a weak smile, shaking his head as Spencer prodded around Emily’s arm for a vein and then punctured her. “Here, JJ, um… put this under your shirt or something, so it’s not as cold.” JJ obediently tucked the bag of fluids up under her shirt, cradling it between her breasts like an infant to try to bring it warmth. Spencer fell backward, landing clumsily beside Hotch.
“You alright, kid?”
“‘M fine,” Spencer mumbled. “Just hit my head pretty hard… Can’t really hear out of this one ear anymore…” He reached into the first aid kit and found a sling. “Here.” Hotch didn’t complain as Spencer fit it on his broken arm, though his face blanched with pain. Then, Spencer strewed himself across Hotch’s middle. Morgan pulled the shock blankets out and smothered them each under one, all drawing in close like litter of kittens piling on top of one another in the nest.
JJ felt drowsy. She inhaled another drag on the cigarette. Hotch’s body was warm where it pressed into hers, Spencer all reclined across him, Morgan’s arms around them. Every time she inhaled from the cigarette, her heart pounded faster. I have to stay awake. I have to keep Emily awake. I have to stay awake. I have to…
“Wake up. JJ, wake up.” Hotch shook her by the shoulder. She roused from where her head had fallen into his lap, inches away from Spencer’s. “Spencer. Morgan.”
They’d all fallen asleep, all except Hotch it seemed, and outside, the sounds of chopper blades battered the wind. Emily was the last to stir, exhausted eyes finding JJ’s. She exhaled a long, relieved sound. JJ bowed forward to peer out of the shelter and spotted the silhouette of the helicopter against the dawn on the horizon. “They came,” she whispered incredulously. “We made it.”
The others crawled out of the shelter one by one. JJ stayed with Emily pressed up against her, waiting for the paramedics to come move her, rather than dragging her around again. “Em, we did it.” JJ brought Emily’s cold hand up to her mouth, pressing her lips to its back. “They’re coming to help, okay?”
Emily pushed herself up on her elbows. The bag of fluids had run empty. “Thank god.” She leaned back against JJ. “I love you.”
“I love you.” She couldn’t say it enough, nor with enough strength, and a lump strangled whatever would’ve remained for her to say. Nothing but the quiet quilt of snow upon the earth, glowing and reflecting the pale dawn light. The fire had died. The silence of the wintry mountains reflected back upon them.
“It’s beautiful,” Emily said.
“Yeah,” JJ echoed. “It is.”
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Say Your Goodbyes (David Hale x Reader)
Imagine: Dating Hale after breaking up with Jax and shit going down when there is a club funeral (wake) and you attend.
Warnings: Swearing, cussing, mentions of cheating, yelling, and the feels of when Half Sack died
“Are you sure you want to do this Y/n?” Hales's voice was like music to your ears. He pressed his chest to your back wrapping his arms around your waist as you finished up washing the dishes from dinner. “I can’t not go to this Dave. He was my best friend, I need to show my respect and Jax isn’t going to stop me from doing so.” You told your boyfriend as you finished drying the last plate, putting it away. “Then I’ll go with you.” He told you. You turned around in his arms and looked up at him. “You don’t have to, I mean it.” Wrapping your arms around his neck you bring him down for a sweet kiss. He carefully picked you up and placed you on the edge of the counter. Pushing him back slightly before you could get too involved in the kiss you looked into his eyes. “I’m gonna go get ready.” You told him before kissing him one more time. Jax had broken up with you about 7 months ago for an unknown reason, what a surprise there, leaving you dumbfounded. You sat at the diner for hours drinking coffee and water. You never shed a tear, you should have seen it coming. He was becoming distant, he wasn’t coming home, and when he did come home he smelled like whore. If he didn’t break it off with you, you probably were going to break it off with him. But when Deputy David Hale walked into your life and asked if you needed a ride home, you knew he wasn’t just some rebound. You moved in with him two weeks ago, and he was so sweet and caring. You slipped off of the counter and pushed passed him heading to your shared bedroom to get dressed. Kip or better known as Halfsack just passed away, and he was your best friend. Jax could kiss your ass if he thinks you aren’t going to go to the wake. You rummaged through your closet looking for something appropriate to wear. You just want to go in and get out, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you missed this moment to say goodbye. You managed to find a cotton tank top dress that reached just above your knee, and a pair and tan heels to go with the dress This was the most acceptable thing you were going to find. You change quickly, putting on the dress and heels. You put on little to no makeup, maybe some waterproof mascara since you knew you were going to be crying. David came into the bathroom, himself in a nice button-up and dress pants, watching you as you ran a brush through your hair. “How do I look?” You took a step back from the bathroom counter and asked him. He walked up to you and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Beautiful babe.” David pulled into an open spot, which was hard to find. This place was crawling with bikers from charters from around the country, all here to show their respects. You got out of Hale’s Jeep and started walking up to the open doors where everyone was mainly swarming around. David wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked, giving you some emotional support. You pushed passed the doors and straight ahead you see a closed coffin with the reaper on top. You felt your heart get ripped out of your chest and you squeezed David’s shirt. Your best friend was dead, and laying in a coffin right in front of you. “Y/N?!” That oh so familiar voice yelled from behind you. You squeezed your eyes closed as a single tear ran down your cheek before turning around to see Jax standing behind you. His face scrunched up in disgust as David turned around. “Hale!?” He yelled even louder. Now he was causing a scene, everyone’s eyes were on you three and all you wanted to do was say goodbye to your friend. “Jackson. Let’s go somewhere else. Don’t do this in front of Kip.” You looked at him with despair in your eyes. He shook his head and walked off, heading towards a room where no one was in. You two needed to talk. “Cmon Dave.” You mumble as you laced your fingers in his, the warmth of his hand lifting some of the weight off of your chest. The two of you followed after Jax, opening and closing the door behind the two of you. “And why does he have to be here? Huh?” His voice was shaky and unsteady, yelling at you. “Jax, ple-“ you try to calm him down but fail. “No don’t start! You can’t come here with him!” He jabbed Hale right in the chest as he spoke. “Jackson! That’s enough! I’m here for my best friend, not to pity you! You’re the one who fucked up in our relationship! You’re the one who decided to go fuck a random croweater because you couldn’t open up and get over yourself! I’m here for Kip.” You yelled back at him as you shoved him backward. He looked at you with disbelief. “Then say your goodbyes and get the fuck out of here with your new fuck buddy.” Jax spat at you. That pushed Hale over the edge and he punched him square in the jaw leaving him bloody. You couldn’t handle what was going on, and before you knew it Jax was going at Hale. “Enough!” You screamed. “Have some fucking decency, Jackson.” You pushed past the two and went to say your goodbyes to Kip, tears falling on top of his coffin. “Y/N?” Your second-best friend's voice called behind you, his big hand resting on your shoulder. “Ope.” You wrapped your arms around him and cried into his chest. This was incredibly hard for you. You lost a friend, your boyfriend and your ex were probably beating each other bloody in the other room, and all you wanted to do was say goodbye. “He’s really gone.” You sobbed into his chest. “He was always there for me Ope. And I wasn’t there when he needed me.” You realized that you felt so bad because you felt like it was your fault. “It’s not your fault Y/N.” Opie tried to reassure you. Your crying dulled down to an occasional hiccup and when you pulled away you looked up at Opie and gave him a sad smile. “You should come around more, the guys miss you. Even though Jax broke up with you, you’re still part of the club.” He placed a kiss to your forehead before walking away. You see your ex and your boyfriend walk out of the room, beaten and bloody. You grab David by the forearm and drag him back to his car. “Let’s get you home dumbass. I have to clean you up. Keys.”
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
As in Debbie Harry
PART FOURTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES
Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)
Warnings: implied sexy times, plentiful pop culture references
Word Count: 4.2K
Summary: Jess and Ella have a frank discussion, then go see a live performance of some angry music.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Gilmore Girls is often a very sex-negative show. There are many examples of the sex-negative narrative through the series, such as when Lorelai implies Paris is “the bad kid” for losing her virginity, or when Lane gets pregnant with twins the first time she has sex with Zach. In “Keg! Max!” Jess tries to pressure Rory into having sex while in a bedroom upstairs during Kyle’s party. In my opinion, that scene seemed a very clumsy (and, honestly, out of character) attempt to convey Jess’s inward situation outwardly without using words. It is a very difficult scene to watch and it is Jess’s worst moment in the whole series by far. With this chapter of my AU, I am in no way trying to trivialize that scene or be an apologist for that kind of behavior. It’s unacceptable in every way. Consent is extremely important, and should be clearly given by everyone involved each time they have sex.
Instead, I wanted to create a more positive representation of teen sex. Sex is a normal part of life, and people should not be shamed for having it. I wanted the conversation between Jess and Eleanor to be realistic and beneficial. And I wanted the morning after to be positive too. I wanted it to be clear that they both gave consent during the initial conversation and right before they actually had sex (because giving consent once does not mean giving consent forever). I wanted them to be safe and comfortable. I wanted them to make an effort to communicate with each other. Also, I personally think the show has a detrimental attitude towards virginity, especially considering how much slut-shaming there is, the incident with Paris being only one example. Virginity, in my view, is just a social construct, but that’s a conversation for another time.
In my AU, Jess does not pressure anyone into sex, and he never would. It’s monumentally problematic of Gilmore Girls to brush off the incident in “Keg! Max!” the way it does, so I wanted to make sure I addressed it before any sex happened in this story. It’s important to recognize problems in our favorite content and learn from them. So, I hope this chapter sends a better message about teenage sex and consent. And I hope I got my ideas across in this note. Please feel free to message me any time if you are going through something, want to talk, or anything else. I am always here. You can learn more about consent and find resources for sexual assault survivors here.
Legs crossed, warming both her hands with the to-go cup of tea from Luke’s, Ella listened intently as Lane gushed about Dave Rygalski. They sat in the gazebo, school bags forgotten on the old wood below them. Stars Hollow High was finally closed for fall break, a whole week off to celebrate Thanksgiving and prepare for the odd, torturous month until the sweet release of winter break as well. Lane was thinking out loud, trying to formulate a plan to get Dave to her house on Thanksgiving. Schemes involving classical Biblical guitar and stuffy outfits were being discussed when Rory finally arrived from the bus stop, binders in her hand and her Chilton skirt hitting her knees as she walked.
“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Catholic school girl!” Ella called as Rory ascended the steps.
Rory scoffed. “It wasn’t funny two years ago, and it’s not funny now.”
“Humor is subjective.”
“Not in this case. You’ve reached an objective lack of humor.”
“Hey, not even Rory Gilmore can bend such universal rules,” Ella shrugged, smirking. Rolling her eyes, Rory plopped down between her two friends and blew out a tired breath, a tight squeeze on the small bench.
“Man, that boyfriend of yours is a bad influence. The heightened snark makes the two of you such a sorry lot,” Lane said.
Ella’s wicked grin only widened. “The snark existed well before Jess came along. I think it’s more my old age that’s making me bitter.” She paused, taking another sip. “Really Rory, I could paint your shoes. Your mom could hem your skirt. I think it’s time to make waves in the antiquated dress code community.”
“Expulsion’s just what I need six months before graduation,” Rory grumbled, digging around in her yellow backpack for her pager. There were fourteen messages from Dean. She let out a frustrated growl.
“Dirk Squarejaw again?” Ella asked, sympathetic.
Nodding, Rory sighed and put her head to Ella’s shoulder. “He just won’t shut up about that kiss with Tristan. I swear this all would’ve been easier if he’d ended up actually going to military school.”
“What do you say we throw off our men and just ride off together, Thelma?” Ella said, uttering a dreamy exhale.
“If only, Louise.”
Clearing her throat, Lane nudged Rory with an elbow and raised offended eyebrows.
“And, once you snag Dave, you’ll be part of the feminist killjoy club, too,” Ella said pointedly, smirking.
“You’ve been listening to too much Bikini Kill,” Lane said, cracking a smile.
“No such thing,” Ella retorted. “Revolution girl style now, baby.”
The three of them descended into a sprawling conversation of Thanksgiving plans, along with a rather colorful anecdote involving Rory’s Chilton frenemy Paris. No matter how exuberant she sounded, Ella couldn’t help but think she would get along well with Ms. Geller. A pleasant tingling had spread within Ella since leaving school, the bell finally chiming in seventh period trigonometry. The feeling always came along with breaks, and it was nice to be with Rory and Lane, chatting in their familiar, breezy way. Everyone was growing older, getting busier, getting boyfriends; it was rare the three musketeers got a true moment to themselves. Eventually, Lane had to go to Bible study, eager to get in good graces with her mother, to allow Dave to provide a musical holiday accompaniment.
Autumn brought early nightfall, and the light was just beginning to wane when a decrepit AMC Ambassador screeched to a halt in front of the diner. And Ella found herself not even surprised when Jess stepped out of the driver’s side, the keyring around his finger. A smirk crossed her lips and she scoffed a little, looking over at Rory, who shot her a suspicious glance.
“He’s back behind the wheel, huh?” Rory asked.
Ella’s face fell a little. “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry-”
Waving a dismissive hand, Rory only shrugged. “That accident wasn’t his fault.”
Letting out a breath of relief, Ella gave Rory a side-hug and another grin. “You’re the best, Gilmore.”
“Second only to you, Ella.”
Glancing over at Jess, Ella rolled her eyes. He leaned against the car, gazing at her. His hands shoved in his pockets, hair gelled up, a leather jacket over his Clash t-shirt. A blush almost rose to her face at the sight of him, but she bit the inside of her cheek and smirked wider instead.
“You need something, Mariano?” she called smugly, and Rory chuckled at her side.
Jess shrugged. “Just didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Oh, how polite of you,” she shot back, then looked over at Rory in askance. The brunette nodded and gave her one last hug.
“Lunch tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Ella replied, gathering up her stuff and shaking her head in disbelief as she approached the car, and the boy next to it. “Where’d you get the rust bucket, Mariano?”
“Whatever, soccer mom,” he retorted.
She narrowed her eyes at the insult to her station wagon. “You’re on thin ice. Where’d you even find this?”
“Gypsy sold it to me. Not so pretty, but I got a good deal.”
She nodded, placing her hands on the back of his neck and lacing her fingers together. His arms came to rest around her waist. Ella glanced back around him to the car. “Ah, I wouldn’t write her off too quick. She’s got good bones.”
“Wait to look on the bright side, blondie,” he said, kissing her cheek.
“As in my hair or as in Debbie Harry?” she asked, expectant. “There is a right answer.”
Jess snorted. “Debbie Harry. How could you even ask?”
“Just checking,” she smiled, pressing her lips to his. For a moment, she was caught up, and the kiss deepened. But then she remembered they were still standing in the center of town, and she pulled away as her cheeks heated up.
Jess chuckled at her blush as she took a step back and cleared her throat, running a hand through her loose hair self-consciously.
“Shut up, James Dean” she warned playfully, narrowing her eyes. “With this car? I think you’ve reached caricature status in public opinion.”
“Don’t type-cast me.”
She continued despite his mock defense, ruffling his gelled mess of waves. “You’ve even got the hair to match.”
Rolling his eyes, he swatted her hand away and pouted, trying to fix his look. “Just for that, I’m not letting you pick the music. And I’m not telling you what we’re doing for our surprise date tomorrow night.”
“What? I wasn’t aware the stakes were so high!”
Jess rolled his eyes again.
Before she could do any more damage to his cool exterior, he retreated back into his driver’s seat. Laughing wickedly, she came around to the passenger side and threw her bag in the back.
“I think it’d be perfectly fine for the date not to be a surprise. Where are we going?” she asked, hoping to lure it out of him.
“Somewhere,” he replied flatly, not phased.
Smiling wider at his secrecy, she threw a glance at the diner over her shoulder as he rolled away from town center. Punk blasted through the radio, and she turned it down just slightly so they could hear each other. Jess shot her a teasing glare, but said nothing about it.
“Y’know,” she said, “I’ve worked at Luke’s for three years and in all that time combined I didn’t make enough money to buy a car.”
“And what are you implying?” he asked, feigning innocence.
Ella only scoffed, taking his free hand in hers. She could feel the scar, where they’d pulled out the stitches.
. . .
Nowhere. It had been a long drive to nowhere in his car. But, Ella supposed, nowhere could be a kind of somewhere, anywhere. Eventually, though, they’d made it to Hartford and Jess turned back. The frigid sky was darkening to a deep, late autumn blue, and Luke was adding him to a Saturday night at the diner every time he came home past midnight. Upon arriving back in Stars Hollow, it was around ten, the shops were closed, but Jess didn’t want their time to end. Away from town, he felt lighter, easier. Everyone wasn’t watching him. Ella wasn’t the doe-eyed princess like Rory, and she didn’t have overbearing parents like Lane, but the townspeople still looked at him with plenty suspicious eyes when they walked hand-in-hand out in public.
Instead of Luke’s, where watchful figures persisted, they landed in Ella’s bedroom. He felt his muscles relax at the scent of lavender, sitting on her bed and leaning his back against the muraled wall. She laid next to him, shoes off but still fully clothed, atop the knit blanket. Joni Mitchell played a mournful tune over her turntable. Her candles were alight, and Jess would have felt sleepy if it weren’t for the book in his hands. Jess devoured A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, another gloomy tale (shocking) Ella had given him. She said she always read it around Christmastime, and he was beginning to see at least once reason for her Grinchy tendencies. And Ella held Anna Karenina in front of her. It was not her first foray into the Russians, but she had never been too thrilled with them. Jess seemed to believe this one would win her over. A few chapters in, and she doubted it.
“Jess?” she asked as the clock ticked nearer to eleven.
“Hm?”
“Are we gonna have sex?”
Choking for a second in surprise, Jess cleared his throat. He scoffed out a chuckle. “What, like, now?”
Ella laughed, shoving his arm playfully. She sat up and faced him, flushed and anxious, though her voice was even. “No. For one, my dad’s still awake. But, I just mean...we do pretty much everything up to having sex, but we’ve never had sex. We’ve been together for almost three months. I just figured we should talk about it.”
Shutting his book, Jess crossed his arms over his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a talent for subtlety?”
She rolled her eyes. “My bluntness is at least half my charm.”
“‘Charm’ is a pretty strong word.”
Launching a teasing pillow at his face, Ella giggled. “I’m trying to be serious here, Mariano.”
“Okay, sorry. Go on.”
“Okay. So...sex.”
He bit his lip to fight off a smirk. “Yes?”
“Well, have you had sex?” she asked.
“Yeah. There was one girl back in New York. Tara. She was nice, I guess. But it wasn’t a Nora Ephron type deal or anything.”
“You like Nora Ephron?” she interrupted, brows furrowed. Not incredulous, only perplexed.
He narrowed his eyes momentarily but ignored the interjection. “I dated her when I was a freshman and then she moved to Albany. Then, your best friend Shane-”
“Fuck off.”
“Not a chance. But, the answer is yes.” Then, after a pause, he furrowed his brows. It occurred to him what a gray area that part of her past was to him. “Have you?”
She nodded. “Hm-mm. A couple times.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling shyly at the way he tilted his head. There was no judgement in his voice. “Right after my mom died, I went to a couple parties...Well, not parties. They were more like get-togethers. Anyway, I got super stoned. This kid Brian smoked with me and we just sorta…did it. There were a couple more parties that year. Rinse. Repeat. Eventually, I started working more and just stopped going.”
“And you never-”
“No, never got together with him,” she answered before he even had to ask. “I never had a ‘relationship’ with anyone. Never had sex with anyone else. It was a good thing, though, I think. Being with him. At the time, I felt so shitty. For just a little while, it made me feel better. He’s a nice kid. Plays for the marching band. Sometimes sex is just sex, y’know?”
“Yeah, sometimes,” Jess agreed. “But...with us?”
Running a hand through her hair, Ella felt her insides flutter at the look he gave her. It was almost….open? Not quite, but almost. “Well, do you wanna have sex with me?”
Swallowing dryly, Jess nodded and hoped he didn’t appear as flustered as he felt. “Yeah. Yeah, I do...Do you wanna have sex with me?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding casually. It felt odd, talking so frankly with him. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was exciting. Would it feel different with a boyfriend? She bet it would.
He cleared his throat, doing his best to hold her hazel gaze. “Good, then. That’s good.”
“I think it is, yeah.”
Bringing a hand to his shoulder, she pulled him in for a short, sweet kiss. And Jess’s heart felt light, relieved. Sometimes, Ella was challenging, she was complicated. But, when it was just the two of them, without all the noise which surrounded their daily lives, it was just so easy. And he could remember no other person he’d ever felt so at home with, who understood him so completely. And when she pulled away, he could still feel the ghost of her lips on his own.
“Alright, I’ve got to finish this chapter,” she said, grabbing her book again and shifting next to him, her back against the mural and her head coming to rest on his shoulder. When she cracked open the pages to her marked place, Jess following suit, she sighed. “This book is excruciating. Why would anyone read this recreationally?”
“You really wanna talk excruciating, Stevens?” he wagered, eyebrows raised as he looked down at her. “Need I remind you of Finnegan’s Wake? And don’t even get me started on this so-called Christmas book.”
“It is a Christmas book,” she argued, gesturing down to the Betty Smith novel in his hands.
Jess shook his head. “Just because Christmas happens in a story doesn’t make it a Christmas story. This is the Godfather debate all over again.”
She sighed once more. “You're never gonna convince me The Godfather isn’t a Christmas movie. Give it up, James Dean.”
“Only like fifteen minutes of that movie takes place at Christmas, my god, how many times-”
. . .
Just before official closing, Luke came back from Doose’s with supplies for Thanksgiving to stock the back room. The diner was to stay open on Thursday, and Luke would feed traditional turkey dinner to whoever stepped through the door. The past two years, Ella had worked all day, eating with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory during down times. The year before, she’d also gone to her aunt’s house following her shift to see the kids. But, with Fiona moved in and engaged to her father, the obligations had changed drastically. She was still working the morning shift, but was due home no later than two. Her older brother was coming, along with her aunt, her aunt’s husband, and her nieces.
Cleaning the counter with lemony disinfectant, she watched her boss trudge through the diner with heavy bags to the stockroom. Luke declined her offer to help carry things, as she had known he would. Instead, she was to keep closing. The clock ticked rhythmically on the wall, and the anxiety for the approaching holiday mixed in her stomach with excitement and pleasant nerves for what the evening was to hold. Jess had slipped out the door around lunch time with the blue vest in the pocket of his leather jacket, telling her he’d be back around nine. And he still wouldn’t budge and tell her where they were going for their ‘secret date.’ But it wasn’t as though she didn’t know why. He hadn’t been able to treat her during their first date, and every date since had been more of a casual hang-out, or a mutually-arranged affair. He still wanted to show her what was, in his opinion, the first date she deserved. So, she wouldn’t argue too much. When the bell over the door sounded, Ella smirked before she even looked up to see him.
“Ready to spill your guts, James Dean?” she asked immediately as he came and sat at the counter in front of her.
Jess scoffed. “Eager much?”
“Jackass much?”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you almost done?”
Nodding, Ella threw the rag in her hand into the dirty bin below the counter. She could hear Luke rummaging around in the back still.
“Hey Luke?” she called.
He came out with his hands on his hips, baseball cap in its rightful place as always. “Yeah?”
“I’m finished out here. Alright if I clock out?” she asked.
Luke eyed his nephew suspiciously, who looked back at him with his usual smug smirk. “Only if Walmart’s favorite stock boy doesn’t keep you out too late.”
The expression fell on Jess’s face and was replaced with furrowed brows, mouth set in a thin line. He’d managed quite a many few months keeping the secret from Luke, until he’d got his car. It was only after Luke accused him of prostitution that he finally came clean. And the teasing had been relentless ever since.
“Don’t worry,” Ella said, smiling as she went to the kitchen to clock out and hang her apron.
With Ella out of the room, Luke pointed a finger at his nephew and took on an accusatory stance. “No drinking, no smoking, no-”
“No drugs, no five-dollar street corner sex, I got it,” Jess interrupted begrudgingly.
Luke grunted in annoyance and rolled his eyes, but said nothing more as he went around to the cash register and started to close it out. Emerging from the back, Ella smoothed her hands over her simple black dress, then pulled her sleeves down over her hands nervously. Suddenly, she wondered if she wasn’t dressed for wherever they were going. She wished she had asked earlier.
“Okay, time to spit it out,” she said, rounding the corner of the counter and grabbing his hand to pull him up. They walked towards the door and she donned her peacoat, taking her shoulder bag, emptier than normal without all the school contents.
Jess smirked. “But what if a blindfold is part of the plan?”
“No fucking way.”
“Hey!” Luke piped up from the register at her language. The attempt at scolding was half-hearted, though.
Rolling her eyes with good nature, Ella followed Jess out the door. “Sorry. Night, boss.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke said with a small smile, waving a dismissive hand at the two kids.
Once outside, Ella could see her breath in the night and she was glad she’d worn her thick black tights. Her Doc Martens crunched the orangey piles of dry leaves noisily as they descended the front steps and made their way across the street to Jess’s car. Before they could get in, though, Jess stopped in his tracks and turned to her, leaning against the car doors.
“I’m waiting,” she teased, eyebrows raised impatiently.
After reaching in his pocket momentarily, Jess went to tuck a strand of hair which had fallen from her low bun behind her ear. Then, he revealed a set of ear plugs in his hand, and Ella’s brow furrowed though her smile widened in nostalgia.
“What’s up, Houdini?”
“Figured you might need these. Since we’re going to see the Distillers and all.”
“Are we?” she asked, taking the earplugs from him.
Nodding, Jess brought the tickets from his pocket and held them up for her to see. She broke out in a grin.
“Not bad, Mariano.”
“Yeah, I know you’re more into melancholia, but you were listening to my CD the other week. So, when I saw they were coming to Harford, I figured...” he trailed off humbly, shrugging. “And we’ve been together almost three months and I still haven’t seen those famous Eleanor Stevens dance moves.”
She chuckled, flushing slightly. He could smell her rosemary scent as she leaned closer and rested her hands on the back of his neck. “Don’t know if you’re ready for that. They’re deadly.”
“In more ways than one I’ve heard,” he quipped.
“Shut up,” she said. “This is awesome, Jess. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
And she brought him in for a kiss, smiling into it. Jess could feel his shoulders release their tension. He hadn’t known if she’d be happy. They were one of his favorite bands, and he’d heard rumors of their coming to town when she’d chosen them as her angry music weeks earlier. Though he wasn’t big on signs, he thought maybe the universe was telling him to share the experience with her. Let her in. It didn’t make him any less nervous, though. It was always there in the back of her mind, that worry she would realize what everyone else in the town already had. That he wasn’t good enough for her. But as he felt her hands in his hair, warmed by her touch in the cold November air, he couldn’t help but forget his fears for just a moment.
. . .
Mid-morning light streamed through the small window into Ella’s cramped bedroom. Her cacti sat on the dresser, soaking up the sunshine, as Jess and Ella slept soundly on the mattress. Wearing a big KISS t-shirt, Ella turned over in her sleep and faced Jess, his arm draped over her tightening slightly. A shirtless Jess lay beneath the whitish blanket next to her, snoring softly. His jeans and t-shirt were strewn near the bed, along with Ella’s dress. Still pumped full of adrenaline after the concert, Ella had crept through the house the night before to make sure everyone was asleep, then snuck Jess through her window. And their first time together was even better than she’d imagined. Sweet and a little awkward and wonderful, reminding her almost of their first kiss months before. And, afterwards, they’d stayed up talking for hours, with a fair amount of teasing from Jess over the t-shirt she’d decided to wear to bed. KISS was perhaps her biggest guilty pleasure.
Upon a soft knocking on Ella’s creaky white door, Jess began to stir. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his tired eyes before fully waking, becoming aware of his surroundings. Then, a voice came from the hallway outside.
“Ella? Fiona wants to take us to Doose’s to get Thanksgiving stuff!”
Sitting up slightly, Jess saw Ella was still deep asleep.
“Elle? Wake up,” he said, shaking her shoulder gently. It took at least thirty seconds before her eyes finally fluttered open.
“Hm?”
“You gotta wake up. Someone’s at your door,” he said quietly, hastily. Another knock sounded on the wood, and Jess glanced up, biting his lip.
Taking in a sharp breath, Ella nodded and her hazy eyes blinked harshly awake. The knocking on the door was persistent now, and her brother called her name a couple more times. She gestured for Jess to move to the corner near the dresser, out of view of the door, as she rushed over to open it. Poking her head out, she kept the door almost shut so only her face could be seen.
“God, Adam, knock louder, would you?” she snapped tiredly.
Adam took a step back at her irritated tone, squinting behind his glasses at her behavior. “It’s not my fault you’re too lazy to get up on time.”
“Didn’t realize we had an appointment scheduled,” Ella shrugged, trying to make her tone lighter.
Shrugging back, Adam began to walk off. “We’re leaving for Doose’s in fifteen.”
“Fine,” she grumbled, shutting the door loudly as he walked away.
“Wow, you’re not a morning person,” Jess remarked, a sardonic twinkle in his eye as he spoke from behind her. When she looked back, he was almost fully dressed already, buckling up his belt. “I gotta get back. Luke’s gonna be pissed.”
“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Ella sighed, running a hand through her messy locks. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought about it sooner. Sometimes Jess seemed so independent, so out on his own, she forgot how much Luke had invested in taking care of him.
Jess only shrugged. “My fault. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ll tell him I was reading at the lake and just dozed off.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said immediately, shaking her head.
He came over to her and put an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It’s fine. He’ll be less mad at both of us. Win-win.”
“You think he’ll buy it?” she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“I have my ways.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever, James Dean.”
Chuckling, he pecked her lips and took one long look at her. Before he could help it, or worry about feeling stupid, he smiled down at her. Crooked and sincere. And Ella smiled back.
“I had a good time,” she said.
Jess nodded in agreement. “Me too. The best of times.”
Sighing lightly, she rolled her eyes. “How do you always manage to bring up Dickens?”
“It’s a gift and a curse.”
And even after he pressed one final kiss to her lips, disappearing out the window and down the street, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face.
#jess mariano au#jess mariano imagines#jess mariano imagine#gilmore girls au#gilmore girls fanfiction#jess mariano#jess#mariano#gilmore girls#jess mariano x oc#gilmore girls oc#original character#original character stories#luke danes#rory gilmore#lane kim
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Timeless love
Jaskier x female reader series part 3
[PART 1] ; [PART 2]
Summary: This is an AU, where Y/N is a young woman, trying to make ends meet with her freelancing writing job. She lives in her small Nottingham studio apartment along with her cat Apollo. Things change when one evening as she is waiting for her taxi, she meets what she thinks is Joey Batey, but the man in front of her is convinced he’s Jaskier, a character from her current favorite show. Y/N now has to figure out what to do.
Warnings: Swearing, vomit, alcoholism and alcohol-related borderline abuse
Word count: 2,251
NOTE:
This part has some heavier stuff than any other work Ive written, so please, proceed with caution for your own sake. nothing too graphic happens, but still want to make sure you know that it does have a certain character that could be triggering to some. he wont be a dominant feature in all parts, but i feel it’s important for Jaskier to interact with people like that, as he continues to learn about our world.
hope you enjoy this part nonetheless. feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated <3 [im really nervous to see what yall think]
I don’t know when, but I managed to get some sleep. Not much, as it was just 7 am when Apollo started meowing and jumping on me, asking to be fed. I sit up, my gaze immediately going to the coach, where Jaskier seemed to be sleeping soundly.
I crawl out of the bed, going to the kitchen, where I see lute back by the fridge. He eventually put it down last night. I wonder how long did it take for him to fall asleep. I sigh, as quietly as possible pouring some food for my cat, who purrs as a thank you.
I stare out the window, as cars start going up and down the street. The town is waking up. I tiptoe around my apartment to go get my laptop from the coffee table. I am surprised Jaskier didn’t ask about it last night. But then again, he didn’t know most of the things in my apartment, he probably was overwhelmed.
I go back to my bed, opening and booting up my old friend. As I enter the password, I am greeted with a picture of him and Geralt on that rock, at the end of episode 6. I loved that whole scene so much. I stare at it, not believing the same bard is sleeping on my coach. I know better, so I change the picture to one of the default ones.
I open chrome, exiting the youtube page that has his song on it. He is not ready for that.
Or maybe I wasn’t. But it didn’t matter.
I go to email, checking for work. I have a few requests, and I decide it’s best to get some work done before Jaskier wakes up and we have to have more awkward conversations. I manage to write two articles, and then he awakens.
His face, for a second, is full of confusion, but then he seems to remember where he is. Now, his expression grows sad. I know he probably wished this were just a nightmare. I know he wished to wake up, back home. With Geralt and even Yennefer. But instead he got me and Apollo, who was already jumping on the coach, greeting Jaskier.
“So that wasn’t a dream,” he murmurs, but I catch it. I close my laptop.
“I’m afraid not.” I respond, as he looks at me, his expression still cold. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, what can you do.” He forces a smile, which I don’t really like, but I decide it’s best not to comment on that. Instead, I nod.
“I wish I could do something. Anyway,” I clear my throat. “Are you up to trying something new?”
“Depends on what it is.” Jaskier perks up, his clouded gaze clearing a little.
“Dirty beans.” I say, jumping out of my bed, I smirk at him. “Or as people call it – coffee.”
“I think I will pass on dirty beans.” He frowns and I giggle.
“You will not.” I say, as he smiles, just a little. And I know it’s genuine. A little hope in these dark times.
I go turn on my coffee maker, putting in the capsule. I decide to make him a latte, nothing too strong. I make myself giggle, when I realize he may be lactose intolerant. I guess we will find out. I stare at him, and decide to add two sugars.
For myself, however, I go black, with one sugar. I need the energy, as I feel absolutely exhausted. I take the drinks, giving him his cup. He sniffs the drink, taking a sip. I don’t sit down, closely watching his reaction.
He doesn’t frown, and actually looks pleasantly surprised. Smile curls his lips, and I catch myself smiling too.
“Glad you like my dirty beans.” I say, finally sitting down, sipping my own. The bitter taste hits my taste buds, waking me up in an instant.
“It’s nice. Thank you.” I smile.
“You are welcome, Jaskier.” I say, leaning back on the couch. “Let me know if you are hungry, I will cook something.”
“I will, thanks.” I glance at him, realizing how surreal it is. Yet we both seem calm.
“Then we might need to go out. Try to see if we can find something around here.” I feel anxiety rush over me. “It’s best if we do it in a day too. Safer.”
“What will we look for?” I shrug, closing my eyes.
“We’ll see it when we find it.” I look at his attire now. “However, you will have to change.”
“Sorry, I didn’t pack anything.” He says, smirking, and I feel a wave of ease wash over me. I am glad he is making jokes.
“I have some clothes that should fit you. I think.” He looks confused, nearly scared, so I continue. “Not my clothes, but I buy some for Dave, he sometimes needs them, because well… he doesn’t have that much.”
“Dave?” I cant read Jaskier’s tone, but he seems confused.
“He lives in the apartment in front of mine. We are… acquaintances at best.” Jaskier nods, as I place my coffee down.
I rush to my small wardrobe, going to the second drawer, where I keep clothes for Dave. Poor guy vomits on himself so often, and he doesn’t know how to wash clothes exactly. If they’re not too disgusting, I wash them, but I keep fresh ones at hand.
I get them at a thrift store, so most of them aren’t to fancy or anything.
I pull a pair of old black jeans, trying to imagine if Jaskier could fit in them. I think he should, but then again, I didn’t exactly examine how he looks that much. I’ve seen it for hours on tv. Dave is not a big man, and I thank my angels for that, as I pull a white shirt that should fit Jaskier too. I dig around to find a pink hoodie.
For a moment I think he wouldn’t wear it, but then I remember what he is wearing now and realize he probably would be fine with a bit of pink. I turn around, revealing his outfit, but Jaskier looks confused.
“Please tell me you know how to dress yourself.” I tease, and he laughs.
“I do, if you can’t tell, I dress nicely.” I chuckle, but don’t respond. “This is weird.”
“Just change.” I throw the clothes to him, and he starts undressing before my very own eyes. It takes me a moment for shock to pass away, before the blush rushes to my face. “In the bathroom for Christs sake!”
I point to the only other room in my apartment as the bard looks very confused. But one look at me, flustered and red sends the message, as he smirks, gathering his clothes and leaving the room. I fan my face with my hands.
Now I don’t meant to act like such a loser and fear seeing a man’s nipple. It’s just that I know I might have to stay with him for a couple more days, so it might make things weird. Also, I already had a crush on him, kinda, and I didn’t want to deepen it even more.
When he comes out, I am already seated, calmed down and drinking my coffee. I turn my face and immediately feel a wave of something rush over me. He looks so different. The pants are a bit big, I notice, but nothing a belt cant fix. The shirt, however, fits perfect, hugging his body. And the zip up hoodie ads a familiar pop of colour.
I feel my face become hot again.
“Verdict?” He asks, twirling around.
“You need a belt.” I say in one breath, rushing to get him the damn thing, before his pants fall off. Which, they nearly did already. When they are secure, I give one final look. “You look normal, so you’re good, I guess.”
“I don’t feel normal.” He says bitterly, and I sigh.
“I know, Jaskier. Not your usual attire, but this way, you will stand out less.” I stare at him, knowing there is a way bigger problem at hand.
He now literally looks like Joey Batey. An exact replica. And if someone, who has seen the hit show, sees him, it will be bad. I suddenly get a headache.
“We have a different problem. You look exactly like someone well known. That’s why I mistook you when I saw you last night.” I say, rubbing my temples.
“Who?” I sigh again.
“Joey. Joey Batey.” I grunt, closing my eyes. “If people recognize you as him, there might be… trouble.”
“Do townsfolk know him that well?” I glare at the man, but then I remember he seemingly knows nothing about my world. So I ease up.
“Yes. He’s like Geralt.” I compare. “The world just knows him. I guess we will have to stay close to home. And wear your hood up.”
I ignore my headache, chugging down my coffee, as Jaskier puts his hood up. He looks adorable, but I don’t say that, instead I nod, approving. I decide to go without breakfast, as the more I think about having to go outside, the more anxious I get.
And I am out of my medication, since I don’t like going to a doctor. I silently curse myself out, as we make our leave. The corridor still stinks, so I give Jaskier an apologetic glance, who in return gives me a soft smile. I feel a chill rush down my spine, when the door behind our backs open. I drop my keys, thankfully after I already locked the door.
I quickly pick them up, turning around to face my neighbour. Dave is staring at Jaskier, his eyes wide with surprise. He has never seen me bring a man home.
Dave is wearing grey joggers, with various stains on it. I notice some blood, but realize it’s best not to ask, not with Jaskier in the earshot. His shirt also clearly has dried vomit on it, and he oozes of vodka and something else. It makes me dizzy and sick.
I try to imagine what the bard is seeing. A frail, tiny white male. Bald, but with a black creepstache. Shaking uncontrollably. It must be so confusing. I want for us to get away, only then I notice Jaskier shielding me ever so slightly. My heart beats faster.
“Hello Dave.” I say through my teeth, stepping in front of Jaskier, so now I would shield him from the curious stare.
“Y/N, sweetheart. Didn’t know you had company.” He says, holding on his door frame, stabilizing himself. I force a smile.
“Yes, well. He’s a friend.” I say, stepping in front of ‘my friend’ more. Dave wasn’t generally violent, but he could get jealous and insecure from every male person who ever walked this earth. Let’s say he has a fragile ego.
“Introduce us, then!” He smiles, and I notice he’s missing his front tooth now. Poor man.
“I’d rather not, Dave.” I say, firmly, as he takes a step forward, using me as a stabilizer now. I want to step away, but I know it would cause a scene. And he wasn’t generally violent, but there instances.
“C’mon sweetheart.” He leans in, whispering. “Your friends are my friends.”
“I said no.” My voice comes out weak as the stench from his is making me feel dizzy. I feel like I am about to throw up.
“She has said no, Dave.” Jaskier speaks, startling me. I almost forgot he was there. He steadies me, as I didn’t even realize I was drifting back. Then I notice my hands shaking. I’m beginning to panic. Fuck.
“We are in a rush, Dave.” I deescalate the situation, as my neighbor was shooting daggers at Jaskier. “Next time, I will introduce you two.”
“Where are you going?” Dave steps back, but he grabs my upper hand. I get startled, squirming a little. That seems to tip off Jaskier.
“Let go.” He steps in front of me now, his voice firm. Dave, to my surprise, listens, letting me go immediately.
“You got yourself a good man, Y/N.” He says, laughing. He steps in his apartment, slamming the door. I lean on the wall, taking a couple deep breaths, which don’t help as it stinks in here.
“Are you okay?” I shake my head.
“I need fresh air.”
I practically jump down the stairs, and when I reach outside, I go around the corner to throw up. My stomach hurts.
Dave is usually kind. He rarely ever lays his hands on me, but whenever he does, it’s never nice. I wish Jaskier wasn’t there to witness this. I glance over my shoulder, to see his worried look, I straighten up, wiping my mouth.
“I’m fine.” I grunt, ignoring the fact that his gaze doesn’t change.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, a lady like you…” I lift my hand, annoyed. He get’s the hint, shutting up.
“In this world, Jaskier, I’m no lady.” I put my hair behind the ear, anxiously looking around. “Get used to that.”
“It’s not fair.” He argues, worry not leaving his face. I sigh, walking past him.
“The world isn’t fair.” I bitterly say, before taking a deep breath. I face Jaskier again. “Now let’s look for something that could help you.”
He knows this conversation is over, as I feel anxiety come back. I have no idea what to look for or where to even begin.
[PART 4]
~~~~~~~~
TAG LIST [if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list, lmk]
@ultracolorfulnerdcollection ; @viyamystic ; @sleepyblossom ; @killjoy-acid-crash
#jaskier#jaskier x reader#i cant friking type#trigger warning#sadly this needs this#the witcher#witcher#jaskierwitcher#jaskier meets modern world#timeless love#part 3 baby#i think jaskier would hate us all lmao#geralt#yennefer#mentions of them#jaskier angst#but some cute scenes too#dont worry there will be brighter parts#its not all alcohol and vomit#i swear
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seeing the Thing 7
Summary: Because playing pretend is easier than talking.
Word Count: 6.9k
Warnings: just a little bit of angst and some kissing
Knock knock knock.
“Y/N? You in there? I got out of work early!” Harrison shouts from the other side of the door, hand jiggling to door handle
You barely have time to comprehend what’s happening as you rip away from Tom, both of you rushing to pull your pants up, Tom and you both grab a top and shove the rest of the clothes in your closet. Cheeks red you pat down your hair and hope you look presentable as you unlock the door and swing it open for Harrison.
“Hiya,” he says, “oh hey Tom,” he greets before brushing past him and sitting on your bed.
“How’s the rehearsing going?” Harrison asks, eyeing both of you.
Your cheeks red, you were about to stutter out that they were doing fantastic when Tom cut you off.
“Going great, y/n’s a great teacher.”
“Is that your sweatshirt?” Harrison asks, head tilted as he points to Tom’s torso.
Fuck.
“I was cold, she lent me this while we worked,” Tom lies flawlessly through his teeth and you wonder how you’re not falling apart right now.
Probably because you’re in awe of how easy it was for Tom to lie to his best friend, how easy it was to pretend like you both weren’t basically naked a few minutes ago.
“Yep,” you manage to get out, voice level as you took a deep breath.
“Do you want me to watch the scene one more time? Then we can head to rehearsal?”
“Sure, I just need to get a few things together after, we should have time though,” you nod as you slip into a professional mode, standing to the side of the room and picking up your script where you dropped it the first time Tom kissed you during the scene, Dave kissed Rhonda.
You and Tom make it through the scene, he would give you a look when you high fived him for kisses. As if to say, ‘you had no problem kissing me fifteen minutes ago, what’s the big deal now?’
But he knew the big deal, you knew the big deal. He just liked to see you squirm.
“Hey Rhonda!” Tom shouts to end the scene and you sit down next to Harrison on your bed, Tom sits down on the floor in front of the two of you.
“So, whatcha think?” You ask, excited for Harrison’s opinion and feedback.
“Good, Tom, better at not looking so angry,” Harrison comments, “I think this is gonna be a great piece.”
“Me too,” you grin, grabbing the bag of supplies from your desk.
“Now will you tell me what this is?” Tom sighs, sitting back on his hands as you dumped everything out on your bed between you and Harrison.
“It’s just like, get well kits for the cast, it’s coming near the end of flu season and a few of them have gotten sick so,” you nod, opening the box of sandwich bags and starting to stick everything in them, tissues, chapstick, hand sanitizer. You’re acutely aware of Tom’s eyes staring holes into your hands as you put everything into little bags as you and Harrison chat idly about the show. How you need to borrow Jack’s truck to get props and set pieces from storage, how you want to see Julie’s sound design and Amy’s light design, random things about the show.
“You know, you could include me in any of the conversations?” Tom asks as you seal the last bag.
“Okay, how is the search for your costume going?” Harrison smirks and turns the conversation to Tom as you pack up your bag.
Tom stops in his tracks as he stands up, “I uh, good question, an excellent way to add me to the conversation, my costume search is going excellent, I’ve totally got everything I need.”
“I’ll take that as you’ve got nothing put together but you will get started tomorrow because that’s been on your to-do list for a week and a half.”
“That’s not a lot of time,” Tom begins to argue as the three of you step out of your room.
“He’s got a week until the costume is due,” You butt in and Harrison is stunned, eyes bulging out at you.
“You’re defending him?” He’s genuinely shocked to see one of his best friends stick up for his other best friend, considering you were usually at each other’s throats, especially last night.
“Just reminding you when the deadline is, is all,” you stubbornly cross your hands over your chest when you realize you’re in a t-shirt and sweatpants, no bra, “you both grab your stuff, I gotta change.”
“Why? Don’t want to go to rehearsal in that?” Harrison jokes and you roll your eyes, going back to your room as you hear them talk outside.
“You apologize for being an ass last night?” Harrison asks Tom, you can hear them, you figure he was speaking loudly on purpose, he wanted to make sure you heard them.
“No,” Tom sighs.
You roll your eyes as you change, of course, he didn’t. He’d argue that he did nothing wrong, that you were both jerks to each other, that’s just the way it was.
“Well apologize to her now, I’ll grab our bags and meet you in the dining hall.”
“Why’re you so concerned that I apologize to her?”
“Because, you can be an ass, and when you are, you need to apologize, basic manners.”
“I’m only an ass when I-,”
“Don’t even start, this isn’t the fucking dark ages Tom, if you-,”
You were too curious to know what Harrison was going to say next, so curious you didn’t want to know at all. Better kept a secret between two friends, you didn’t need to pry. You swung the door open and the boys were silent, “hi,” you say, leaning against the door, now a little more presentable.
“Hey, I gotta get out of these work clothes, meet you and Tom in the dining hall in ten?” Harrison asks and you raise an eyebrow but nod.
Harrison squeezes your shoulder lightly before walking down the hallway. Both you and Tom watch as Harrison walks down the stairs and out of sight.
“Let’s snag a booth at the dining hall?” You turn to walk down the hallway, following Harrison’s path when you see Tom’s hand reach out to grab your shoulder but drop at the last second.
“Y/N?” He asks and you turn, almost falling into him as he’s standing right by your shoulder.
You stare up at the mess of brown hair, brown eyes looking down at you expectedly, shoulders stretching out your sweatshirt.
“Yes?”
“Did you get that strawberry chapstick for me?” His voice is almost too curious, digging.
“I got it so you could kiss Nikk,” you say back, “maybe she won’t smell like bananas this time around.”
“Won’t be the same darlin,” he smirks, tongue poking out of his mouth to lick his lips, still red from your kisses.
“Obviously, we’re two different people,” you laugh, deciding to play it easy.
“Obviously,” he snaps back and you take a step backward, away from him.
He takes a step forward, falling right back in place with you.
“So what? You went on and on about my stupid chapstick and if that’s the only way you could even pretend to be even remotely attracted to Nikk, then I’m going to bring these stupid bags to rehearsal and give them to everyone.”
“Who said I was attracted to you?” He asks, eyes roaming your face as you take another step backward, backpack pressed against the wall. He follows, hand resting against the wall by your head, face leaning down, a cocky smirk on his face, “Thought this was just acting.”
“Fuck you,” you bite back, sidestepping away from him and rushing down the stairs, afraid of what you would do if you stayed up there. Slap him? No. The thought of slapping Tom stung something deep inside of you. You’d probably crumple to the ground, lungs feeling like they’ve collapsed in on themselves, you were already breathing harshly through your nose, scared that if you opened your mouth all that would come out were sobs.
You didn’t care if he was attracted to you or not, right? It’s not like you felt anything towards him, maybe an ounce of lust, you couldn’t help thinking Tom was hot, his beauty was objective. No question about it.
“Hey, did- wait!” Harrison shouts as you pass the second-floor landing, you’re about to ignore him but you can’t. You needed your best friend. You pause and Harrison walks towards you, hands reaching out, his backpack slung over his shoulder, Tom’s presumably in one of his hands.
“He didn’t apologize did he?” Harrison asks, eyes taking in your trembling lip, head shaking as Harrison drops Tom’s backpack and pulls you into his arms, your arms hung weakly by your sides as Harrison held you, his hands rested on your middle back, rubbing it softly as you silently sobbed for a moment on his shoulder. Only a moment though because there was a thud thud thud down the stairs and you took a deep breath against Harrison’s shoulder, hands reciprocating his hug so it didn’t look weird as Tom came bounding down the stairs.
“Y/N, look I’m so- oh,” Tom pauses at the landing as he sees you and Harrison’s embrace.
You pull away from Harrison slightly, “it’s okay, you don’t need to apologize, what’s there to be sorry for anyways? Can’t help what you feel,” you shrug, dropping your hands to your side.
“No it’s not that I just-,”
“Just what Tom? You know what? I don’t want to talk about it. I want to eat shitty dining hall food, I want to go to rehearsal, I want you to do a good fucking job with this scene, and I want to move on.”
Move on. From what exactly? From wanting to kiss him? From seeking refuge in the warmth of his lips against your own?
Tom’s silent as Harrison hands him his backpack. Harrison moves to rest his arm around your shoulder as you walk down to the dining hall.
“I’m sorry,” Harrison whispers in your ear as you slide into the booth, Tom sitting on the other side, setting his plate down with a loud clatter.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you say, voice loud enough for Tom to hear you, deliberate.
“Hey, listen, I’m sorry okay? Is that what you want to hear?” Tom says, voice full of anger and oh so clearly not meaningful.
“Bullshit,” you fight back.
“Can you both cut it out, it was going so well, you were working together, can we please just save it for another time?” Harrison begs, a hand on your leg rubbing gentle circles into the space above your knee.
“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes darting down to your plate to shut up and eat. It’s just easier this way.
You eat in relative silence, once you finish the three of you walk to rehearsal, there early like always, the stupid bags in your backpack, you pull them out and place them on a desk. Gianna and Quentin come bouncing in shortly before the actors are called, coffee and tea in hand.
“Sup,” Gianna kisses Harrison’s cheek and you laugh as your best friend blushes like a middle schooler who just asked out their first girlfriend.
Gianna giggles as well before sliding into the seat next to yours, taking one look at your foot tapping against the ground, fingers tapping against your thigh before announcing you were going to grab a bathroom break before the actors arrived.
You attempted to protest as she all but dragged you out of the room but the truth was, you needed this. Whatever girl time Gianna was going to give you in the ten minutes you had before rehearsal started.
“What happened?” She asked, straightforward. That’s something you loved about Gianna. She was blunt in times that required the truth to be told, no beating around the bush.
“I did something really stupid,” you sigh, running cool water from the sink over your face.
“How stupid?”
“So stupid I can’t talk to Harrison about it.”
“And whys that?”
You knew Gianna was curious for more, it was in her nature to be nosy, you didn’t mind much. Especially now, you really needed someone to confide in, someone who wasn’t Tom’s best friend.
“IkissedTom,” You mumble and she raises an eyebrow.
“You did what now?”
“You heard me.”
“You kissed Tom? For real? I thought you two were constantly at each other’s throats.”
“It was for his scene.”
“His scene?”
“We met to review his blocking and to try to improve his scene and we did the kisses.”
“Holy fuck.”
“I know, it was stupid and unprofessional and I can’t believe I did it and-,”
“No, no, no, fuck that. I was gonna say to go get that dick!”
“Gianna!” You groan, dropping your head into your hands, starting to regret telling her.
“What? He’s fucking hot, if I wasn’t dating Harrison I’d hop on it. Hell everyone here would hop on it. And you’ve kissed him? You’re already halfway there.”
“No, it’s just, he’s an asshole.”
“How so?”
“I dunno, just always, he’s got a snide remark and it’s not like a funny snide remark shared between friends, because we aren’t friends, it’s mean and it’s specifically pointed towards something he knows will hurt. And he’s confusing because we were seconds away from seeing each other naked when-,”
“Naked?!” Gianna practically screeches before her hands clasped over her mouth.
“You know at the end of the scene when they all strip off each other’s clothes?”
“Yes! And you fucking, oh my god, he’s ripped, isn’t he? Does he look as good as people say he is?”
“Yeah, I mean, we were kissing for most of it but-,”
“Hold up, you were kissing and practically naked and you don’t want to jump his bones?”
“It’s not that, it’s, he doesn’t want to.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because, the strawberry chapstick I’m giving all the actors today in those plastic bags,” you sigh, attempting to piece back the story from the beginning of yesterday.
“And so I said, maybe he could pretend to be attracted to Nikk if she had my stupid chapstick on, and then he was all ‘who said I’m attracted to you’.”
“First of all, never attempt a British accent again. Second, he was this close to seeing you topless and you really think he isn’t attracted to you? Have you considered he’s just an idiot?”
“No, I know he’s an idiot, but not like that. If he was attracted to me, he’d make a move. God knows he does it every weekend with other girls anyway.”
“One, pot calling the kettle black,”
“Hey, I haven’t since last year and-,”
“Two, he hasn’t recently.”
“How recently?”
“Uh, like I don’t know, past two weeks, which according to Harrison is a miracle, so, take that for what is it.”
“What do you mean what it is? It’s nothing. He’s just busy.”
“Yeah, being attracted to you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Alright, just watch today. If he can show the same level of attraction to Nikk that he did to you while you guys rehearsed, I owe you five bucks, if he can’t, then pay the fuck up.”
“You’re brutal sometimes,” you sigh, checking your phone. You should head back in.
“You like me the most when I’m honest, makes you self reflective, now let’s go, I wanna see you owe me five bucks,” she laughs, locking her elbow with yours as you make your way down the hallway.
Most of the cast is sitting in the desks in the rehearsal space, a larger classroom in the basement of an academic building when you and Gianna slide into your seats.
“I told them about your little goodie bags, making sure they all stay nice and sanitary for the kisses, chapstick and all,” Harrison laughs, “nice touch.”
“Course,” you mumble, eyes meeting Tom’s as your hand clenches around your own chapstick in your pocket.
Fuck him.
You pull it out and apply it to your lips, smacking them softly before looking away.
“Quentin and Gianna will be setting each scene with makeshift sets and props, most of you will be moving your own set pieces on,” Harrison lets the actors know, the first set of people setting up for their scene.
You watched as Harrison took notes for each scene, his handwriting still managed to look nice even when he wrote something really quickly. You got lost in the way his pen glided against the paper. You weren’t bored with the show, more on edge for your scene, the very last scene of the show, you had to wait until the end to see if your hard work paid off. As their scene neared you watched as Nikk applied the chapstick and Tom broke out into a grin, Gianna elbowing you lightly as she noticed Tom look your way.
You nodded, fingers gently tapping the desk while they people from the scene previous left the stage.
Tom and Nikk walked on and you and Gianna sat with bated breath, anticipating Tom’s movements as he walked on and went about the scene.
“Well can I give you a hint?” His voice eager, face soft as he turns to Nikk, and you lean forward, watching as he quickly kisses Nikk. It doesn’t radiate the same energy and his nose crinkles a little before Nikk pulls away in character. You sigh, a little defeated as Gianna grins triumphantly.
Still a few more kisses.
“Big, open-faced, strawberry rhubarb pie?” They’re facing each other, Tom’s hand cups Nikk’s face and you wait for the tender moment, his thumb to rub his cheek like he did yours, the slight shake of his head as he mouths the word no, it never came. Instead, they kiss, and Tom’s able to hold it for longer without crinkling his nose, only twitching slightly when Nikk pulls away to finish her line. His hand drops quicker than you would’ve liked and your hand moves across your notebook with notes as you watched them continue with the scene. His hands are clenched in fists at his side, his face is conveying all the emotion that you had worked with him, but his hands were still so angry.
The rest of the kisses were okay, nothing like the ones in your room, but you figured it was because Tom was getting used to kissing Nikk like he kissed you. At the end of the rehearsal Harrison handed out his notes for everyone and thanked them, you did the same with a reminder that the off book date was coming up Friday and that if anyone needed to run their lines without a script, they should work with their scene partners outside of rehearsal time.
Tom frowned at his notes as you, Harrison, and Gianna walked back to the dorms.
He slipped beside you as Harrison and Gianna walked slightly ahead of you, hands intertwined.
“What’s this mean?” He asks, pointing to your note, “stop looking so angry, you aren’t the hulk.”
“You kept clenching your fists at your sides, is that a character choice?”
“You know it’s not a character choice,” Tom huffs out and you roll your eyes.
“Then why, even after we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times, you still do it?”
“Cause I don’t want to kiss Nikk.”
“Too bad, everyone has to do things they don’t want to do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks and you ignore the feeling of his knuckles brushing against yours as you turn the corner to the dorm building.
“It means, we all have to take one for the team to make this production excellent.”
Tom’s silent as you follow Harrison and Gianna inside.
“Y/N, still good for later?” Gianna asks, and you nod as Harrison and Gianna walk up the stairs to Harrison’s room.
“What’s later?” Tom asks and you roll your eyes as he follows you back to your dorm.
“Why’re you going this way? Your dorm is a floor down.”
“My dorm is about to be occupied by horny kids getting it on.”
“Then go to the dining hall.”
“Let’s practice our scene.”
“Can’t, have plans.”
“With who?” Tom scoffs as you unlock your door and check your phone.
Quentin: sorry i can’t help you out tonight, Jay wants to take me on a surprise date, do you still need sheets?
“With someone who just canceled on me,” you sigh, tossing your hands in the air.
“Really or were you coming up with an elaborate plan to not hang out with me?”
“Hang out?” You step backward into your room, standing at the door so Tom couldn’t join.
“Practice the scene, whatever.”
“Well if it means so much to you, Gianna and I, and Quentin up until a minute ago, we’re going to surprise Harrison with a movie night, a little stress reliever from working so hard on the show.”
“I think Gianna’s giving him plenty of stress relief right now.”
“Ew shut up,” you groan.
“Where would you have this movie night?”
“Last year, when Harrison was really stressed about a theater practical, I had this idea,” your eyes light up as you recall the memory, stepping further back into your room, “I bribed the soccer teams to let me use the soccer field and their net, and tied sheets up to it, found a projector, and we had a movie night. So Quentin was supposed to help me set it up while Gianna distracted Harrison but Jay is taking Quentin on a surprise date.”
“I could help.”
“You’d do that?”
“It’s for Harrison right?”
“Yeah.”
He takes another step, following your movements, eyes roaming your face for anything, door shutting behind the two of you. Your movements mirror his in the opposite direction. A dangerous dance.
“Then sure.”
“Okay,” you breath out and he’s so close now, chest inches from yours as you drop your backpack to the ground, breaking the silence.
“You know, I didn’t mean it earlier, the joke.”
“Hmm?” Your eyes are met with the black sweatshirt he’s still wearing, your dad’s old one.
“You’re attractive.”
“I know.”
“So maybe for the scene, I can just picture, your cute face,” his hand comes up to cup your cheek, “and pretend that I’m kissing it.”
“Pretend,” you breath out as he leans down.
“Pretend,” he echoes before his lips press against yours. Because that was all this was, practice so he could picture your face instead of Nikk’s, just pretend.
Your hands stay right at your side, trembling and unsure as his feet shuffle you back, your feet fumbling in response. An awkward dance. His lips part easily, tongue gliding against your lips. You refuse to let him in, enjoying the dance as it is, one of his hands is now gripping your hip, thumb of his hand on your cheek stroking it gently.
“Please,” he whispers against your lips, forehead pressed against yours while he stares down at you.
“We should set up for the movie.”
“Screw the movie.”
“No,” you sigh against him, hand pressing against his chest, pushing him back slightly, “this is for Harrison.”
“Later.”
“Maybe.”
“Pretend.”
“Pretend,” you repeat, enjoying the one word back and forth, maybe if you kept saying it was pretend, you could trick yourself into believing that was all this was to you.
“Good,” he smirks, pulling you back and pressing a quick kiss on your lips before dropping his hands.
“So let’s set stuff up?”
“Right, we need sheets, projector, how’re you holding the sheets up?” Tom jumps into action.
“Rope,” you say, kneeling down and grabbing the clear bin underneath your bed, rummaging through it.
“Aren’t you just full of surprises?”
“Hush,” you laugh, grabbing the several small bundles of rope you used the year before as well as two large white sheets and the projector.
You hand Tom the sheets and you open your mini-fridge and grab some sodas.
“Ready?” He asks as you grab a sweatshirt.
“Give me a second, rope, sheets, soda, projector,” you say, stuffing the rope and soda into your backpack, projector handed over to Tom.
“Blankets, to sit on,” you say, grabbing two picnic blankets from your closet.
“You’ve got a lot in this tiny room of yours,” Tom muses as you slip your backpack on and hold the blankets.
“Full of surprises,” you laugh.
The two of you make your way to the soccer field, a silent walk, not quite comfortable, not quite awkward. A strange middle ground that left a weird feeling in your gut.
The soccer field was empty as you and Tom walked towards the net.
You set to work expertly tying the sheets to each end, directing Tom on how to hold it so you can work.
You set up the blankets and text Gianna that everything is ready before pulling out your laptop, plugging it into the projector.
“What movie are we watching?”
You pause and blink up at Tom, not hearing him, “what?”
“Nevermind, didn’t wanna watch a stupid fucking movie anyways,” he grunts, fists clenched at his side as he begins to stalk away.
You leap from the ground, “Wait! Jesus, I just didn’t hear what you asked!”
You’re paused in a defensive stance, hands out in front of you as you wait for Tom to hear you out.
“Whatever,” Tom grumbles, turning to stare you down.
“Would you just, why are you acting like such a child? You never use your fucking words. Actually, nevermind, a child can articulate what they want, what they’re feeling without throwing a fit. I don’t even know what you are.”
“You know what I am,” he says, stepping back towards you.
“What might that be?” You take a step back, there’s that dance again.
His hand reaches out for your own as he takes another step and you’re frozen.
Just as his fingers brush against your own they are ripped apart again when you both hear Harrison and Gianna shouting from the edge of the field, “MOVIE NIGHT!”
You laugh weakly, sitting back by your laptop as Tom crosses his arms and paces, muttering to himself before he greets Harrison with a lame smile.
“Hey, mind if I join?”
“Not at all mate, what’re we watching?” Harrison directs the question at you as he and Gianna occupy one blanket.
“Hercules,” You smile, eyes squinting at the setting sun.
You turn the projector on and the light flickers onto the sheets against the soccer net. You pull up your copy of Hercules and press play, settling on your side on the other blanket, stretching your limbs out as the opening credits play.
“When you asked if you could join us, I meant it,” Harrison says, head craning to look at Tom who was still slightly pacing. He paused behind the blanket your body occupied.
“Do you mean it?” Tom asks and your head turns to stare at him, you nod before turning back to the screen.
“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” he nods as he sits down with his legs crossed under him next to you.
“Why’s that?”
“Shhh,” Gianna hushes the both of you.
Your voices fall to a whisper, “because, the blanket doesn’t give you much protection and this ground is hard as a rock,” he mimics the way you’re laying, face inches from yours.
“It’s not the worst in the world,” you respond, voice barely a whisper.
“I should be running lines right now.”
“You should be relaxing and watching the movie,” your eyes roamed his face like he did with yours many times before. You noticed the few freckles that dashed across his cheeks, the slight crook in his nose, the light bags under his eyes, the cliche look of a college student.
“It’s your fault if I don’t know them by Friday.”
“Is not, you’ve had plenty of time to learn them.”
“Then help me practice.”
“Ask Nikk, your scene partner,” voice echoing the words you said earlier at rehearsal, “if you’re not prepared for the off book date, work with your scene partner.”
“You know I don’t want to work with Nikk. Plus, she’s known her lines for a solid two weeks, I’d look like an idiot practicing with her.”
“As opposed to looking like an idiot with me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t actually.”
“Despite what you might think, we can still hear you, even if it’s just a bunch of muffled whispers,” Gianna groans and you giggle, eyes crinkled as your hand rests between you.
His eyes look down between you, his hand resting on his side, fingers twitching as they inch towards your hand.
You yawn and move your hand back to your hip, “watch the movie.”
He nods but his eyes stay trained on yours, and you refuse to break the stare.
You give up and roll onto your back and stretch your arms above you before resting them against your stomach, you want to enjoy the movie.
Your eyes start to droop as the sun sets, the movie just a background noise as you start to drift off to sleep, ignoring the warmth of the body next to yours as it moves closer, an arm resting beneath your head to give you somewhat of a pillow.
***
Taglist: @tom-hollands-blog @unicornsyy @practicallylivesonline @jackiehollanderr @khhbby @amyalpha @peterbxrnes @relise-thefury @euphorictom @fandomdarlings @saysomethingspiderman @dylanrauhl @legendsofwholock @pumpkinsinnerpie @particularmila @darktwistydiamond @aestheticqueen18 @i-guess-n0t
#tom holland#tom holland angst#tom holland x reader#tom holland college!au#seeing the thing#tom holland x fem!reader#tom holland series#tom holland fic#tom holland reader insert#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fem!reader insert#tom holland x reader angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader fluff#tom holland x reader series#tom holland x y/n
124 notes
·
View notes