#i want it to rekindle my wonder and hope again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 3 months ago

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devotion — geto suguru.

“I thought if I gave my life to God, he would spare yours.” You stared at him, stunned, as his words sank in. “Suguru… I don’t understand.” He looked down, his hands trembling. “Years ago, when we… when we lost touch, I heard about your illness.” he explained, his voice heavy with emotion. “I was told you might not survive. I felt helpless, powerless to do anything. So, I prayed. I prayed with everything I had, and I promised God that if he saved you, I would give my life in return. I would serve him, devote myself to his cause. And you… you recovered.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: angst, fluff, forbidden romance, love, hurt/comfort, nsfw, r-18, smut, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, falling in love again, sexual intercourse, pining, hurt, religious guilt, happy ending, aged up characters (suguru and reader are in their 40s), first loves rekindling their relationship, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of pining, depiction of religious aspects, mention of parting, mention of the past, mention of previous husband, father! suguru, widowed! reader;

WORD COUNT: 12k words

NOTE: i was thinking whether or not this is what i should publish for kinktober but i feel like since i've been going on this trend of giving my stories a happy ending, i feel like this is one of them that deserves it, i feel. this is the sequel of 'to build a home'!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!!! and love wins all, even time!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

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YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D SEE HIM AGAIN. But you were getting too ahead of destiny. It has been nearly twenty years since you last saw Geto Suguru. Time had blurred the details of his face in your memory — the precise shape of his smile, the warmth in his eyes when he spoke your name.

You thought you’d forgotten him, buried him under the weight of all those years. But there he was, standing at the front of the room, his voice steady and serene as he read the eulogy for your husband.

You tried to focus on the words, tried to let them seep into your soul and cradle your grief. But all you could see was him. The lines on his face had deepened, a touch of gray in his hair, but he was still so achingly familiar. You could feel the stirrings of something old and hidden, something you thought you’d buried long ago.

You felt guilty. This was the day you were supposed to mourn your husband, to remember all the good moments you had shared. But as you sat there, dressed in black, your gaze kept drifting back to Suguru. How strange it was to see him like this — a priest, of all things. You wondered what had led him down this path, what had happened in those years you hadn’t been a part of his life.

His voice was calm and soothing, and it reminded you of the way he used to speak when you were alone together. You found yourself holding your breath, the memories coming back like an unexpected wave. The nights you spent talking until dawn, the feel of his hand in yours, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world. You closed your eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to you like a desperate whisper.

You were grieving, yes, but somehow those old feelings resurface, like they had been waiting all this time, just beneath the surface. It was wrong, you knew it, but there was something in the way Suguru spoke, in the way his eyes lingered on you for just a moment too long, that made it feel like maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.

And as the service drew to a close, you wondered if he felt it too.

As the ceremony ended, the quiet murmur of condolences filled the room, but you barely heard them. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of sorrow and anticipation you couldn't quite understand. People passed by, offering their sympathy, their touches gentle on your arm, but your eyes were on him. Suguru stood at the front, still dressed in his somber robes, speaking with a few guests, his expression kind and composed, but you saw the moment he noticed you watching.

He paused, his words faltering for just a second, and then his gaze found yours. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to fall away, and there was only the two of you, standing on opposite sides of a great chasm of time. You felt rooted in place, as if moving would shatter whatever fragile connection had formed between you across the room.

When you finally mustered the courage to approach him, your steps were slow and tentative. He turned to face you fully, his hands clasped in front of him, and for a moment, you were struck by how different he looked, and yet, how much the same. The years had softened his edges, but his eyes — those deep, searching eyes — were just as intense, just as familiar.

“Suguru,” you breathed, unsure what else to say. His name felt foreign on your lips after so long, but also strangely comforting. He gave a small, sad smile, the kind that spoke of understanding beyond words.

“It’s been a long time,” he replied, his voice a quiet murmur, almost swallowed by the room’s low hum. There was a gravity to his tone that made your chest tighten, as if he was trying to convey all the things that had gone unsaid in the years between you.

You nodded, feeling the sting of tears you had not expected. “I never thought I’d see you like this,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know you… became our little town’s priest.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that was both strange and familiar, and something in it warmed you. “Life has a way of leading us to unexpected places,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “I didn’t expect to see you here either… under these circumstances.”

You flinched, a fresh wave of grief washing over you. “No, I suppose not,” you whispered. “But it is good to see you, even now. Even… like this.”

He nodded, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was filled with all the things you wanted to say but didn’t know how. You could feel the years stretching between you like a bridge you were both afraid to cross.

“You look…” he started, then faltered, his gaze sweeping over your face. “You look just as I remember, even after all these years.”

You laughed softly, a sound tinged with both sorrow and disbelief. “I doubt that,” you replied, shaking your head. “It’s been a long time. We’ve both changed.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice soft. “But some things don’t change. Some things stay with you, no matter how much time passes.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. Was he talking about you? About whatever you once had? You wanted to ask, but the words stuck in your throat, caught between your grief and the unexpected flood of emotions his presence had stirred.

Instead, you simply stood there, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, feeling that old, familiar ache that you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying all these years. And when he reached out, his hand hovering just above yours, you found yourself closing the distance, your fingers brushing against his in a touch that felt like both a question and an answer.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he said, his voice low, filled with a sincerity that sent a shiver down your spine. “I truly am.”

“Thank you.” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. You didn’t know if you were thanking him for the words, or for being here, or for just being him.

You cleared your throat, a delicate sound breaking the tension between you. Your heart still aches from the loss, but there was a strange comfort in his presence, a familiarity that felt almost like a balm. You glanced to your side, where your daughter stood, her small hand gripping yours tightly. She looked up at you, her young face a mix of confusion and sorrow, her eyes still red from crying.

For a moment, neither of you moved, standing there like two ghosts caught in the past. But in his eyes, you saw something flicker — a spark of recognition, of something that had never really gone away. And as the room began to empty, you knew this was not the end. Not quite. Not yet.

“This is my daughter, father.” you said softly, turning to Suguru. “Say hello, sweetheart.”

Your daughter hesitated for a moment, still clinging to you, but eventually she offered a shy smile. “Hello.” she whispered, her voice small and uncertain.

Suguru’s expression softened as he crouched down to her level, his eyes gentle. “Hello there, child.” He greeted me warmly, his tone light. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Father Suguru.”

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to decide what to make of this stranger who seemed to know her mother so well. But Suguru had always been good with children, you remembered. There was a kindness in his demeanor that drew them in. After a moment, she nodded, accepting his presence with the solemnity only a child could muster at such a moment.

“You’ve grown up so much.” Suguru said, his gaze shifting back to you, and there was something tender in the way he looked at you, a flicker of an old memory shared between you.

Before you could respond, two young girls approached from behind him, their eyes wide with curiosity. They looked almost identical, with long dark hair and matching dresses, and they stood close together, their hands clasped as if seeking comfort from one another. You noticed the way they watched Suguru, their eyes full of trust and affection.

“These are my girls.” Suguru said, smiling gently. “Mimiko and Nanako. I adopted them some years ago. They were… lost, in a way, and I thought I could offer them something of a home.”

You felt a pang of recognition in your chest, understanding without needing to ask. He had always had a soft spot for the vulnerable, a quiet compassion that was buried beneath his strength. The girls looked up at you, curious and shy, and you gave them a gentle smile.

“Hello, Mimiko. Hello, Nanako.” you said softly. “It’s very nice to meet you both.”

They glanced at each other, and then Mimiko, the braver of the two, stepped forward. “Are you our father’s friend?” she asked, her voice small but direct. There was something almost protective in the way she looked at you, as if she was gauging whether you were worthy of her father’s trust.

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. A friend? Were you even that anymore? You wanted to say something else in the back of your mind. You were more than friends, you were lovers. You were everything to each other. Yet you couldn’t. Your lips would not move. But before you could find the right words, Suguru chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“We used to be….close. We met each other a long time ago,” he answered for you, his gaze never leaving yours. “But we finally met again today, it would seem.”

Nanako, still holding Mimiko’s hand, tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Why did you stop?” she asked innocently.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, a thousand unspoken answers rising to your lips. How could you explain? How could you sum up all the lost years, the paths that had diverged, the choices that had led you here, to this moment?

Suguru turned to his daughters, his smile soft but tinged with a hint of sadness. “Sometimes life takes us in different directions, my dear.” he said gently. “But it doesn’t mean we stop caring about the people we once knew.”

Mimiko seemed satisfied with this answer, but Nanako continued to watch you, as if trying to see into your soul. You could feel the weight of her gaze, but there was no malice in it, only a child’s unfiltered curiosity.

“I’m sorry…..” you said, addressing Suguru again, though your eyes flicked briefly to the girls. “For all the years we lost. I… I didn’t mean for it to be that way.”

He shook his head, a soft smile touching his lips. “Don’t apologize to me about it.” he replied. “We did what we had to do, back then. But it’s good to see you now, and… to see the life you’ve built.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “It’s good to see you too, Suguru.” you whispered. “And to your girls too.”

He nodded, his gaze holding yours, and for a moment, the weight of the years seemed to lift, just slightly. You weren’t sure where this would lead, if anywhere at all. But you knew that something had shifted, something had opened between you, a door long closed but never quite locked. And maybe, just maybe, there was room to step through, to find out what lay on the other side.

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YOU DIDN’T HAVE IT IN YOU TO LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR A WHILE. The days had grown longer since the funeral, each one stretching into the next with a quiet emptiness you hadn’t anticipated.

The house, once filled with the familiar rhythms of your husband’s presence, now seemed to echo with a silence that settled deep in your bones. To stave off the hollow ache that threatened to consume you, you kept yourself busy — perhaps too busy.

You tended to your garden with a fervor that bordered on obsession, your hands constantly stained with earth, fingers rooting through the soil as if searching for something buried there, something that might fill the void.

The roses were blooming better than ever, their petals full and lush, as if they knew how much you needed them now. Your days blurred together in the quiet sanctuary of your backyard, kneeling among the flowers until the sun dipped below the horizon.

When you weren’t in the garden, you took your dogs for long, meandering walks. They were your faithful companions, sensing your grief in their quiet, unspoken way. You found solace in their steady presence, in the rhythm of their paws on the pavement, and the way they’d look back at you, as if making sure you were still there, still moving forward.

But your daughter, ever perceptive, noticed the way your days seemed to stretch out like a taut wire, threatening to snap. She was packing for college now, her room in disarray, and you could see the worry creasing her brow every time she glanced your way.

One evening, as you sat together at the kitchen table, your daughter set down the book she’d been pretending to read and looked at you with a seriousness that caught you off guard.

“Mom.... I.... uh…..” she began, her voice soft but firm. “I’ve been thinking… about when I leave.”

You forced a smile, trying to keep your tone light. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ve got the garden, the dogs… plenty to keep me busy.”

She shook her head, her expression earnest. “That’s just it, though. I don’t want you to be just… keeping busy. I want you to have people around you. Friends. People to talk to.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I have friends,” you insisted gently, though you knew what she was getting at.

“Not like that,” she countered, shaking her head. “I mean… I want you to have new friends. I know this has been hard on you, losing Dad. And I just… I worry about you being lonely when I’m gone.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, a familiar sensation these days. “I’ll manage,” you murmured, but she wasn’t deterred.

“What about Father Suguru?” she asked, and you blinked, surprised. You hadn’t expected her to bring him up, not after the funeral, not after everything that had been left unspoken between you and the priest who had once been so much more.

“What about him?” you asked cautiously.

“He seems… nice.” she said, hesitating for a moment. “And you used to know him, right? Before Dad, before everything. Why not… reconnect with him? I mean, he invited you to church activities, didn’t he?”

You looked down at your hands, feeling a twinge of something you couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know… It feels strange, after all these years.”

“Maybe…..” she conceded. “But he’s reaching out, and I think it might be good for you. You don’t have to do it alone, you know? And it might help… to have someone around who understands.”

You looked up at her, seeing the concern etched in her young face, the worry that you had tried so hard to keep at bay. She was right, of course — the house was too big and too quiet, and the days too long. And perhaps, she had a point. Perhaps there was something to be said for reaching out, for finding solace in old friendships, even if they had been left behind in another life.

“I’ll think about it.” you finally said, offering her a small smile.

She reached out, taking your hand. “Just try, Mom. For me. I just want you to be happy… to find some peace.”

You nodded, feeling a tightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’ll try.” you promised, though the words felt heavier than you expected.

That Sunday, you found yourself standing outside the church, the morning sun casting long shadows on the stone steps. You hesitated, your heart thudding in your chest, but then you saw him — Suguru, standing by the entrance, greeting the parishioners as they arrived. His face brightened when he saw you, and he raised a hand in a small, almost tentative wave.

Taking a deep breath, you walked toward him, feeling the weight of the years between you like a whisper in the air. But as you drew closer, you felt something lift, something small but hopeful, as if maybe — just maybe — there was still room for new beginnings, even now.

Suguru’s smile widened as you approached, a gentle warmth radiating from him that eased some of the tension winding tight in your chest. He was dressed simply, in a way that suited him, with the plain black shirt and collar of his vocation. Yet, there was an ease in his posture, an openness that seemed to welcome you without hesitation.

“Good morning.” he greeted softly, his voice carrying a familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad to see you here.”

You returned his smile, though it felt a bit shaky on your lips. “I… thought I’d take you up on your invitation.” you replied, your words feeling tentative, almost shy. “My daughter encouraged me to come.”

He nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. “She’s a wise young woman.” he said, his tone light. “I’m sure she just wants you to have some company, some… support.”

“I think she worries about me.” you admitted, glancing down at your hands. “And she’s right. The house is quiet. Too quiet, sometimes.”

Suguru’s expression softened, and he stepped a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate level. “I understand,” he murmured. “More than you know. It’s easy to feel lost in the silence after everything changes. But… you don’t have to go through it alone.”

You felt your heart ache at the kindness in his words, at the understanding he offered so freely. “Thank you.” you whispered. “It’s… been hard. I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

Suguru’s gaze held yours, steady and patient. “Grief has a way of sneaking up on us when we least expect it.” he said softly. “But you’re here now. And that’s something. You’ve taken a step.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I suppose I have.”

He gestured toward the entrance of the church, where people were beginning to gather, a soft hum of conversation filling the air. “Would you like to come in?” he asked. “We’re having a small gathering after the service — just some coffee and a chance to chat. I think you might enjoy it.”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your shoulders. But there was a sincerity in Suguru’s eyes, a quiet encouragement that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

“I think I’d like that.” you said finally, your voice is firmer than before. “I could use a bit of company.”

His smile grew, genuine and warm. “Good.” he said, stepping back to let you pass. “I’ll be right by your side if you need anything. And I’m sure there are plenty of people here who would love to meet you.”

As you stepped inside, you were immediately enveloped by the soft glow of the stained glass windows, the warm, golden light casting colorful patterns across the pews. The room was filled with the low murmur of conversation, and you felt a flutter of anxiety in your chest. But Suguru was beside you, his presence steadying, and somehow that made it easier.

He introduced you to a few members of the congregation — older women with kind smiles, younger families with children who clung shyly to their parents’ legs. You exchanged polite pleasantries, feeling a bit like a fish out of water, but everyone was welcoming, their warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness that had filled your days.

After the service, as promised, there was coffee and tea in the small parish hall. You found yourself standing beside Suguru as he chatted easily with a group of parishioners, his voice calm and comforting, his laugh a soft rumble that seemed to put everyone at ease. You watched him from the corner of your eye, still marveling at the way he had changed and yet stayed so much the same.

At some point, Mimiko and Nanako found their way to your side, their small hands tugging on the hem of your jacket. “Are you going to be our friend too?” Mimiko asked, her eyes wide with hope.

You smiled down at her, your heart softening at her earnest expression. “I’d like that very much, if you would allow me.” you replied, and she beamed, satisfied with your answer.

Nanako, quieter but just as curious, looked up at you with a small smile. “Papa says you used to be his best friend.” she said matter-of-factly.

Suguru chuckled softly, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. “Children are so honest, aren’t they?” he murmured.

You laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t felt in months. “Yes.” you agreed, looking at him. “They are.”

Your conversation flowed, you felt the tension in your shoulders begin to ease, the heaviness in your chest lifting, if only just a bit. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And as you stood there, surrounded by new faces and old memories, you realized that maybe your daughter had been right.

Maybe this was what you needed. Not to forget your grief, but to find a way to live with it, to let it become a part of you without letting it define you. And perhaps, with Suguru beside you, with new connections to explore, you could start to build something new from the ashes of what you had lost.

You caught Suguru’s eye again, and he offered you a small, understanding smile, as if sensing the shift within you. And for the first time in a long time, you felt something like hope.

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TIME WITH SUGURU HEALED YOU. Over the next few weeks, you found yourself spending more and more time at the church. It had started with Sunday services and slowly expanded to weekday gatherings — a book club here, a community dinner there, little things that filled the empty spaces in your days.

Geto Suguru was always there, a quiet, steady presence. He was kind, attentive without being overbearing, and somehow, being around him made things feel just a bit lighter.

Your daughter noticed the change in you when she came home from college for the weekend. She saw the way your smile reached your eyes again, the way you seemed less burdened, and she was pleased.

“I knew you’d find someone to talk to, mom.” she said with a grin, her voice teasing. “Father Suguru is nice, isn’t he?”

You blushed at the mention of his name, feeling a strange mix of guilt and warmth. “He’s… he’s been very kind to me.” you replied. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to, that’s all.”

But deep down, you knew it was more than that. Slowly, gently, you and Suguru had begun to fall into the rhythm of your old friendship, but there was something new simmering beneath the surface, something unspoken that neither of you dared to name.

You felt it in the way his eyes lingered just a little too long when he looked at you, in the way your hand brushed his in passing and lingered a moment too long. There was a magnetic pull between you, a quiet longing that seemed to grow with every passing day.

And yet, there was a line you both knew you could not cross.

Suguru never spoke of it, but you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he caught himself when he stood too close or when his hand brushed yours in a way that felt almost… intentional.

He would smile, pull back, and busy himself with something else, as if to remind himself of the boundaries he could not breach. You could sense the struggle within him, the way he tried so hard to remain the devoted priest, the man who had chosen a life of service and sacrifice.

It was during a rainy afternoon, after a small charity event at the church, you found yourself in his office, helping him sort through donations. The rain pattered softly against the windows, casting a muted glow over the room.

You were both seated on the floor, sorting through clothes and toys, when your hands brushed again. This time, neither of you pulled away. Geto Suguru’s breath caught in his throat, and you felt your heart race in response. The air between you grew thick, charged with an energy you could no longer ignore.

He looked up at you, his expression conflicted, torn between the desire you both felt and the commitment he had made. “I shouldn’t…” he began softly, his voice barely a whisper.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words. “I know,” you replied just as quietly. “I know it’s… complicated.”

Suguru’s eyes searched yours, as if looking for something — some kind of understanding, or perhaps, absolution. “I’ve… I’ve given my life to this.” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. “To the church, to God. I made a vow.”

You nodded, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “I don’t want to make things harder for you.” you whispered. “I don’t want you to have to choose.”

He shook his head, a bitter smile crossing his lips. “It’s not that simple.” he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. “I… I made that vow because I had to. Because I felt it was the only way I could atone for something. Something I never told you.”

You blinked, confused. “Atone? For what?”

He hesitated, the struggle evident in his eyes. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession. “I became a priest because… because I thought it might save you when you got in that accident.” he said, his words barely more than a breath.

You held your breath for a moment. You don’t know how you were going to deal with what he might say to you. What truths may come out. What can you say, what can you say and do after all these years? He'd hidden all that, he'd kept his silence for more than twenty years and you don't know what to do.

“What do you mean to say?”

“I thought if I gave my life to God, he would spare yours.”

You stared at him, stunned, as his words sank in. “Suguru… I don’t understand.”

He looked down, his hands trembling. “Years ago, when we… when we lost touch, I heard about what happened.” he explained, his voice heavy with emotion. “I was told you might not survive. I felt helpless, powerless to do anything. So, I prayed. I prayed with everything I had, and I promised God that if he saved you, I would give my life in return. I would serve him, devote myself to his cause. And you… you recovered.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. “You did that… for me?”

He nodded, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “I did. And I couldn’t break that promise, not when He answered me. I couldn’t… I still can’t. Not like this.”

A lump formed in your throat as you realized the depth of his sacrifice, the weight of the promise he had made. “Suguru, I… I don’t know what to say.” you whispered, feeling a mix of gratitude, sorrow, and something else — something deeper, more complicated.

He reached for your hand then, his touch gentle but firm. “You don’t have to say anything, okay?” he replied softly. “I just… I needed you to know. I need you to understand why I can’t… why can't……..”

You nodded, tears blurring your vision. “I understand.” you said, your voice breaking. “I won’t ask you to break your vow. I just… I just don’t want to lose you again.”

He squeezed your hand, his expression pained but resolute. “You won’t.” he promised. “Not as long as I can help it. But we have to be careful. We have to… to find a way to be friends again, without… without crossing that line.”

You nodded again, swallowing back the tears. “I can do that.” you said quietly. “I can try.”

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YOU COULDN’T HELP UNDERSTAND WHAT TO FEEL.The days after your confession were a blur of forced distance and unspoken words. Every time you passed by his office or saw him in the hallways, there was a tension, a gravity that threatened to pull you back in. But you resisted, reminding yourself of the vow he had made and the reasons why you had to keep your distance.

His promise was not something to take lightly. You knew that, and so did he. There were obligations, personal codes, things he held dear, and breaking them meant more than just a fleeting moment of passion. It meant betrayal — to himself and to the values he had sworn to uphold. You couldn’t be the reason he wavered, no matter how much your heart ached with the memory of that moment in his office.

The memory haunted you. The way his eyes softened when you spoke, how his gaze lingered just a little too long, how his lips parted, ready to say something that never came. It was both a promise and a plea, something unspoken but understood between the two of you. Yet, you knew it couldn’t be.

So you did what you thought was best. You put distance between you, told yourself it was the only way to keep things under control. You busied yourself with anything and everything, trying to ignore the weight in your chest that grew heavier each day. But it wasn’t just you who pulled back.

He, too, kept his distance, his demeanor cool and composed, almost like nothing had ever happened. But there were cracks — moments when his eyes would meet yours across a crowded room, moments when his voice would catch ever so slightly when speaking to you.

In those moments, you wondered if he was feeling the same pull, the same struggle to keep his distance. Was it difficult for him too? Did he regret the way things were left, or was he relieved that you had taken the initiative to step back?

Despite the pain of staying away, you told yourself it was for the best. It was the right thing to do, even though every fiber of your being wanted to run back to him, to let yourself fall into whatever this was between you. But you couldn’t — you wouldn’t be the reason he broke his vow. Because as much as you longed for him, you respected him more.

Still, late at night, when you were alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but wonder: What if? What if you hadn’t walked away that day? What if he had been the one to break the distance? The uncertainty gnawed at you, leaving you with a bittersweet longing that neither distance nor time could seem to quiet.

But the distance only seemed to make things worse.

At first, it was easy enough to stay away. You busied yourself with gardening, taking the dogs for longer walks, filling your days with mundane chores and errands. But the quiet nights were harder.

Your thoughts would drift back to Suguru — to the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his voice dropped to a whisper when he spoke your name. You’d catch yourself imagining the brush of his hand against yours, the warmth of his body close to yours, the way he had leaned in just a bit too close, as if he might kiss you if only for a second.

You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. He was a priest. He had made a choice, a vow, and you respected that. But the more you tried to push those thoughts away, the more they seemed to creep in, filling the quiet spaces of your mind.

Suguru was struggling too. He tried to focus on his duties, on the congregation, on the children who relied on him. He threw himself into his work with a fervor that bordered on obsession, trying to drown out the thoughts of you that seemed to linger no matter how hard he prayed.

But late at night, alone in his quarters, he found himself thinking of you. Of your laugh, your smile, the way you had looked at him in his office, your eyes filled with understanding, with something deeper that had taken root in his chest and refused to let go.

He would close his eyes and imagine what it would feel like to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, to taste your lips, to feel the heat of your skin against his. He hated himself for it, for the desire that surged through him like a tidal wave, threatening to sweep him away from everything he had promised to uphold. He’d kneel by his bed, his forehead pressed against his clasped hands, and pray for strength, for guidance, for something — anything — to take this longing away.

But the longing only grew.

One evening, as you sat on your porch, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the garden, you felt the ache of loneliness settle deep in your bones.

You had spent the day trying to distract yourself, but nothing seemed to help. Every thought circled back to Suguru, to the way he made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t felt in years. You found yourself wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking of you too, if he was struggling as much as you were.

Without really meaning to, you reached for your phone. You typed out a message, then deleted it. Typed another, then deleted that too. You sighed, setting the phone aside, telling yourself to stop, to let it go. But your hand hovered over the screen, and before you knew it, you were calling his number.

The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through, soft and uncertain. “Hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Hi.” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I… I hope I’m not bothering you.”

There was a pause, and you could hear the hesitation in his breath. “No.” he replied finally, his voice gentle. “You’re not bothering me.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “I just… I wanted to see how you were.” you admitted. “It’s been a while.”

He let out a soft sigh, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It has.” he agreed. “I’ve… missed you.”

You closed your eyes, the words sinking into your skin like a balm. “I’ve missed you too.” you confessed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’ve been trying to stay away, but… it’s harder than I thought.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you could hear the rustle of fabric, the soft creak of a chair. “I’ve been trying too.” he admitted, his voice strained. “But it’s… it’s not easy.”

There was something in his tone, a rough edge that sent a shiver down your spine. “Suguru…….” you whispered, your heart pounding. “What are we going to do?”

He let out a breath, and you could feel the weight of his struggle, the battle raging within him. “I don’t know....." he replied honestly. “I’ve been praying for guidance, for… for something to help me make sense of this. But every time I close my eyes, all I see is you.”

Your breath hitched at his confession, the honesty of it slicing through you like a knife. “I… I feel the same.” you whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About… about what it would feel like to…”

The words were right there, lingering on the tip of your tongue, but they felt too potent, too dangerous to release. You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening, your heart pounding in your chest as you stood there, teetering on the edge of a confession you weren't ready to make.

You wanted to say it, to let it all out — the weight of your feelings, the yearning that had grown over time, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t stop feeling for him. But the moment felt too fragile, too charged. One wrong word and the delicate balance you both had maintained for so long would shatter. And so, you trailed off, your voice faltering, the unsaid hanging thick between you.

But he knew. The air in the room seemed to shift, charged with a tension that neither of you could deny. You could hear it in his breathing, the way it hitched, just for a moment, as if he was caught off guard by the depth of what you almost said. His chest rose and fell with a newfound heaviness, each breath more labored than the last, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

He didn’t look at you right away, as if turning to face you would confirm everything — the longing, the hesitation, the unspoken desires that had been building between you both for far too long. But when he finally spoke, his voice trembled, a slight quiver beneath his usual steady tone. It wasn’t much, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to you, it was everything.

It was proof that he understood that he was feeling the same thing you were, even if neither of you could fully articulate it. His words, whatever they were, seemed like an afterthought, just filler to mask the emotions surging beneath the surface. Yet, the tremor in his voice betrayed him, and for a moment, you wondered if he would be the one to break first.

But he didn’t. Instead, you both stood there, suspended in the weight of your silence, the unspoken words pressing against your lips like a dam about to break. You could feel the heat of his presence, the way the space between you seemed to shrink without either of you moving an inch. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to hear, but neither of you dared cross that invisible line.

Even though nothing was said aloud, the room felt full — full of everything you couldn’t bring yourself to admit, full of everything he had already understood. The weight of it pressed on you, thick and heavy, and you realized that sometimes, words weren’t necessary. Sometimes, the silence, the shared breath, the trembling voice, said everything that needed to be said.

And in that moment, you both knew.

“I know.” he whispered, his voice raw with need. “I’ve thought about it too. More than I should.”

Your heart raced, a flush spreading over your skin as the heat of his words washed over you. “Maybe… maybe we could just see each other.” you suggested tentatively. “Just… just to talk. Nothing more.”

He hesitated, and you could feel the conflict in his silence. But then he spoke, his voice thick with longing. “Just to talk, like back then....” he agreed. “But… if it becomes too much…”

“I’ll leave.” you promised. “I don’t want to make things harder for you. I just… I just need to see you.”

He sighed, a sound of both relief and resignation. “Okay……” he said softly. “Come to the church tomorrow. After the evening service. We can… we can talk.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, your heart racing with anticipation, with fear, with desire.

“Okay.” you whispered. “Tomorrow.”

When the call ended, you felt a strange mix of emotions — excitement, anxiety, a deep, pulsing need that you couldn’t ignore. You told yourself it would just be a conversation, just a chance to clear the air, to find some semblance of peace in this storm. But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing between you and Geto Suguru had ever been simple.

And as you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you wondered what tomorrow would bring, and whether you’d have the strength to resist the pull that had only grown stronger with every moment you spent apart.

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YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT WHAT TO DO. The next evening arrived like a cold weight pressing on your chest. You stood outside the church, your clothes soaked through as the rain beat down relentlessly, its bitter chill sinking into your bones.

Each gust of wind cut through you, but the storm raging around you was nothing compared to the turmoil within. You had rehearsed what you might say over and over, yet as you stood before the old wooden doors, the words felt distant, unreachable.

With a shaky breath, you reached out, your hand trembling as it grasped the iron handle. The door creaked, groaning under the pressure of your push, the sound amplified by the hollow quiet inside.

Stepping across the threshold, you could hear the echo of your footsteps against the stone floor, each step amplifying the pounding of your heart, which beat in sync with the thunder rumbling outside.

The church was nearly empty, its vast interior engulfed in an eerie stillness. The last remnants of the evening service had long since faded, leaving only a few flickering candles scattered around the altar.

Their faint, wavering light sent shadows dancing across the old stone walls, casting strange shapes that seemed to twist and shift with every gust of wind that rattled the windows. The air smelled of damp wood, incense, and something ancient — a scent that seemed to settle deep in your lungs, grounding you in the moment yet unsettling you all the same.

You paused just inside the doorway, wiping the rain from your face, and took in the silence that surrounded you. Despite the stillness, the weight of the space pressed down on you, amplifying your anxiety. You weren’t sure if it was the setting or the reason for your presence that made your chest tighten, but every breath felt like an effort.

The soft hum of the storm outside was barely audible within the stone sanctuary, creating a strange sense of isolation. You found yourself both soothed and unnerved by the contrast — the chaos outside, the fragile calm inside.

And yet, even within this tranquility, there was a tension, a palpable sense of anticipation that settled in your gut. You were here for a reason, but now, standing in the dim light of the church, the reality of it felt heavier than you had imagined.

You walked slowly down the aisle, your footsteps echoing off the vaulted ceiling, each step measured, deliberate, as if delaying the inevitable. The pews were empty, save for a few scattered hymn books and prayer pamphlets left behind.

The rows stretched endlessly before you, and every flicker of the candles seemed to emphasize the emptiness, the vastness of the space, making you feel smaller with each passing second.

As you approached the altar, your breath hitched in your throat. This was the place where vows were made, promises were sealed, and lives were intertwined — for better or for worse. But you weren’t here for such formalities.

No, your visit was shrouded in uncertainty and the kind of unspoken tension that you had no idea how to resolve. The closer you got to the altar, the more the anticipation surged, twisting inside you.

You hesitated, standing just a few feet away from the altar steps. The candles flickered, casting long shadows that stretched toward you like fingers reaching from the past, urging you to move forward. But you remained still, heart pounding, breath shallow. The moment felt suspended, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

In the stillness, you wondered what awaited you — what words would be exchanged, what truths would be revealed. The anxiety gnawed at you, and yet, beneath it all, there was a strange undercurrent of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this night would bring clarity, an answer to the questions that had haunted you since the last time you were here.

And so you stood there, fighting the urge to turn back, knowing that what happened next could change everything.

You could hear Suguru’s voice in the distance, speaking quietly with one of the parishioners. You waited near the back, your hands clasped in front of you, trying to steady your breathing. When he finished, he turned and saw you, his expression softening in a way that made your chest ache.

"You're here." he said, walking over to you. His voice was low, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes — relief, maybe, or hesitation.

"I am." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I… I needed to see you."

He nodded, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering for just a moment too long. “Come with me.” he murmured, gesturing toward a small room off to the side. His office, you realized. The room where it all started.

You followed him, your footsteps echoing softly on the stone floor. The air felt thick, heavy with unsaid words, with unspoken need. Once inside, he closed the door, and you both stood there for a moment, staring at each other, unsure where to begin. You could feel your heart pound at each step you took. Your breath hitches as you walk with him, many thoughts racing over and over in your head.

Suguru took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "I’m glad you came." he said, breaking the silence. "But I… I don’t know if this is a good idea."

Your chest tightened at his words, a mixture of frustration and longing bubbling to the surface. “I don’t either.” you admitted, “but I don’t know what else to do. I can’t just… ignore this.”

He looked at you, his eyes darkening with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Do you think it’s easy for me?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “Do you think I don’t feel it too? This… this pull?”

You took a step closer, feeling a spark of anger mixed with desire. “Then why are we fighting it, Suguru? Why are we pretending like this isn’t happening?”

He shook his head, his frustration evident. “Because I made a promise, you know that.” he snapped. “Because I dedicated my life to something bigger than myself, and I can’t just… I can’t just throw that away!”

You felt a surge of emotion, a frustration that had been building for weeks. “I’m not asking you to throw anything away!” you shot back, your voice louder than you intended. “But you can’t just… you can’t just pretend you don’t feel anything. That we don’t feel anything!”

His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite name — anger, maybe, or desire. “I’ve spent years pretending, trying to bury these feelings,” he said, his voice low and raw. “But every time I see you… every time I hear your voice…”

He stepped closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locked onto yours. “It tears me apart. And I don’t know…..” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve tried to stay away. God knows I’ve tried. But I… I can’t.”

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you thick and suffocating. “Then don’t.” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t stay away. Don’t push me away…Please.”

His breath hitched, his hands twitching at his sides as if he was fighting the urge to reach for you. “This is madness.” he murmured, but his voice lacked conviction. “This… this is wrong.”

“Is it?” you challenged, your heart pounding in your chest. “Is it really so wrong to want… to feel…?”

He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. “I don’t know anymore.” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know what’s right or wrong when it comes to you.”

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. “Then stop thinking.” you said softly, your voice trembling. “Just… just feel.”

For a moment, he froze, his breath catching in his throat. Then, something inside him seemed to snap. He surged forward, his hands cupping your face, his lips crashing against yours with a force that took your breath away.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, years of longing and frustration pouring out in a single, electrifying moment. You felt his hands tangle in your hair, his body pressing against yours, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your fingers gripping his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to taste him, to know that this was real.

Your back hit the wall, and he pressed against you, his mouth moving against yours with a ferocity that made your knees weak. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, could taste the salt of his tears on his lips. You were drowning in him, in the scent of him, in the feel of his body against yours, in the way his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, deeper into the kiss.

But then, as quickly as it began, he pulled away, gasping for breath, his hands still holding your face, his forehead resting against yours. “We… we can’t.” he panted, his voice broken, torn. “This… this isn’t right.”

You were both breathing hard, your chest heaving with the effort to calm the storm raging inside you. “I know,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I know it’s not. But… but I need you, Suguru. I need you so much.”

He closed his eyes, his hands trembling against your skin. “I need you too.” he confessed, his voice choking with emotion. “God help me, I need you too.”

And in that moment, as you stood there, pressed against the wall, your breaths mingling in the darkened room, you both knew that something had changed. A line had been crossed, a boundary shattered, and there was no going back.

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in a moment that was as intoxicating as it was forbidden. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to feel the weight of what was between you, to acknowledge the depth of your desire, the strength of your longing.

Suguru’s lips brushed against yours again, softer this time, more tentative, as if he was afraid to break the fragile moment. “What are we doing?” he whispered against your mouth.

You closed your eyes, feeling his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t know.” you admitted, your voice barely more than a breath. “But I don’t want to stop.”

He swallowed hard, his forehead still pressed against yours, his hands cradling your face as if he were afraid you might disappear. “Neither do I.” he confessed, his voice breaking. “Neither do I.”

His breath was ragged, his hands shaking as they cupped your face once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, as if he were searching for something he had lost long ago.

The world around you seemed to dissolve into a blur, leaving only the two of you in this sacred, forbidden moment. Tears slipped down your cheeks, and he felt them against his skin, his own eyes closing tight as if he could hold back the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.

He kissed you again, harder this time, a low, shaky sigh escaping him as his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against him with a strength that bordered on desperation.

“Forgive me.” he murmured against your lips, the words barely audible, his voice thick with emotion. “God, forgive me…”

But even as he spoke, he knew there was no forgiveness for what he was about to do, no absolution in this moment of need and longing. He felt the weight of his vows, the promises he had made, the life he had chosen… and yet, when it came to you, every vow seemed like a distant memory, every promise a faint echo of a past life.

His hands moved to your shoulders, pressing you back against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing every inch of skin he could reach as if he were worshiping at an altar.

“I’ve sinned so truly and endlessly for all these years.” he whispered, his voice raw, broken. “I’ve sinned, loving you… wanting you… needing you…”

You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, needing to know this was real. His lips moved lower, tracing the line of your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin.

“You’ve always been my god.” he confessed, his voice a breathless prayer. “And I… your most devoted follower…”

He sank to his knees, his hands sliding down your sides, his lips brushing against the fabric of your dress. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, his expression a mixture of longing and torment.

“I can’t stop.” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “I won’t stop…”

His fingers hooked into the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly, reverently, his lips pressing kisses to the exposed skin of your thighs. You shivered, your breath catching in your throat as he continued, his hands trembling against your skin.

“I’ll sin for you… over and over.” he murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of your hip. “Because I can’t let you go…”

He kissed lower, his mouth trailing down the inside of your thigh, his breath warm against your skin. He paused for a moment, his hands gripping your thighs, his forehead pressing against your belly as if he were fighting some inner battle. And then, with a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he kissed you again, his lips finding the center of your desire, soft and demanding all at once.

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, your hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue flicked against you, tasting you, savoring you like the sweetest sin.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin, his hands tightening their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer as his tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, each stroke a prayer, each touch a confession.

He kissed you there, over and over, his mouth moving against you with a fervor that was almost holy in its intensity. He could feel your body trembling beneath his hands, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he worshiped you with every ounce of devotion he possessed. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing, tasting, the heat of his breath mingling with the heat of your skin.

His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, his mouth never leaving you, his tongue moving faster, hungrier, seeking to draw out every cry, every moan, every shudder of pleasure. His own breath came in ragged bursts, his heart pounding in his chest, his body trembling with the force of his own desire.

He couldn’t stop — didn’t want to stop. You were his sanctuary, his salvation, and in this moment, he was lost in you, lost in the heat of your skin, the taste of your desire, the sound of your breathless gasps. He moaned against you, the sound filled with need, with longing, with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on as he continued, his lips and tongue moving against you with a fervor that was almost frantic. He felt your body tense, heard the soft, breathless moans that escaped your lips, and he knew you were close. Suguru wanted to push you over the edge, wanted to hear you cry out his name, wanted to feel you shatter against his lips.

And so, he continued, his tongue flicking faster, his lips pressing harder, his hands gripping your thighs as if he could anchor himself to you, as if he could hold you here, with him, in this perfect, sinful moment forever.

You cried out, your body arching against the wall, your hands tightening in his hair as you came, a soft, breathless moan escaping your lips. He groaned against you, his tongue never stopping, his lips moving against you with a fervor that was almost holy, almost desperate, as if he were afraid to let you go, afraid to let the moment end.

And in that moment, he knew — he knew he would never be able to stop sinning for you. He would never be able to walk away, to forget the taste of you, the feel of you, the sound of your voice crying out his name. He was yours, body and soul, for better or for worse, for all eternity.

He pulled back, his breath ragged, his lips glistening, his eyes dark and filled with a longing so deep it nearly broke your heart. He looked up at you, his hands still gripping your thighs, his expression a mixture of awe and torment.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, as if every word took effort to push past the weight of his desire. "I can't... I can't stop this." he confessed, his forehead resting against your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. His hands slid up your sides, pulling you closer as if anchoring himself to you, needing the connection as much as the air in his lungs.

You tangled your fingers in his hair again, your pulse still racing, the aftermath of the moment leaving your body humming with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. You could feel the tension in him, the battle between what he wanted and what he knew was dangerous, and yet you both understood — there was no turning back. Not now.

Slowly, you tilted his chin up, guiding his gaze back to yours. His eyes, still dark with desire, searched yours, and you could see the fear in them — fear of the depth of this thing between you, fear of how much it already consumed him. But beneath that, there was something more. Something tender, vulnerable, almost fragile.

"I don't want you to stop." you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "I don't want this to end.”

Suguru's eyes softened for a moment, then clouded with guilt. His hands trembled as they cupped your face, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "I'm sorry." he murmured, his voice breaking with regret. "I'm so sorry… I led you to sin. This desire—my desire—it’s wrong, I’ve tainted you. I should have never let it go this far."

You shook your head, heart pounding, and leaned into his touch. "No." you whispered fiercely. "You didn't lead me anywhere I didn't want to go. I chose this. I chose you. If we're sinners, then I'll carry that sin with you. Together."

Without hesitation, you captured his lips in a kiss that was hard, desperate, and messy, like you were trying to devour him, to merge with him completely. And Suguru, filled with equal need, responded with the same raw intensity. His hands roamed your body, hungry, claiming, as if trying to make sure this moment, this choice, could never be undone.

In one swift motion, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the confession box. The small, sacred space that had once held secrets and forgiveness was now your altar of passion. You both fumbled with your clothes, hands frantic, lips still locked in that feverish kiss. When the last piece of fabric fell to the floor, he broke away just long enough to whisper.

"You are my god. I was never meant to devote worship to anyone else."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and the intensity of his devotion left you breathless. When he finally entered you, filling you completely, your body arched, as if instinctively trying to get closer, deeper, into the space where the boundaries of pleasure and need blurred into something beyond comprehension.

The moan that escaped your lips was loud, unrestrained, ripped from your throat like a prayer answered after too long in the desert. And as if answering your plea, Suguru thrust harder, deeper, his breath ragged, his skin slick with sweat as the storm outside raged in perfect synchrony with the chaos inside you both.

Thunder cracked, the air vibrating with the sound, but neither of you cared. It was the storm that gave you permission to be loud, to scream, to lose yourselves in this forbidden act. The rain pounded against the windows, a constant drumbeat to the rhythm of his body pressing into yours, over and over, until your mind was lost in a haze of pleasure so blinding you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his began.

You came, hard and fast, your body trembling uncontrollably in his arms, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. His pace grew more desperate, each thrust pushing deeper, more insistent, like a prayer that had to be spoken aloud, no matter the cost. His worship of you was not gentle; it was fierce, almost frenzied, as if the very act of being inside you was the only way he could breathe.

"Suguru." you gasped, barely able to speak, your voice broken and breathless. But the sound of his name on your lips seemed to spur him on. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you impossibly closer, his movements becoming rougher, more urgent. Every thrust pushed you higher, every stroke making your body shake, your legs trembling as you gave into the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm you.

He was relentless, his need for you all-consuming, driven by something more than mere desire. It was devotion, pure and raw, a longing that had been pent up for far too long. His words from earlier echoed in your mind — You are my god — and you could feel the truth of it now, in every touch, every movement, as he gave himself to you completely.

You whimpered as your body responded to him again, another wave of pleasure building as he moved deeper inside you, filling every part of you until there was nothing left but him. The tension between your bodies, the heat, the raw, primal hunger, grew too much to bear. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body clinging to him, needing him, wanting him, as he pushed you closer to the edge again.

The storm raged outside, lightning flashing, illuminating the room in brief moments of stark white, and in those flashes, you could see the look on his face — dark, intense, a man consumed by his love for you, by the act of giving himself over entirely, as if nothing else mattered in this world.

And maybe it didn’t.

"Suguru..." you moaned, feeling yourself break once more as your body surrendered to him completely, trembling violently against his as he continued to claim you, over and over, as if this moment would never end.

Suguru’s pace never faltered, his body pressed relentlessly against yours, each thrust deeper than the last. His eyes were half-lidded with a raw, burning need, his hands never loosening their grip on your trembling body.

Even as your voice broke into breathless cries, your hands clutched desperately at him, grounding yourself in the overwhelming sensations that coursed through you. He was utterly lost in you, consumed by the devotion he had promised — his worship of you unending, fervent, and wild.

Your body ached with the pleasure of it, shaking beneath him as he continued even after you had come. He was relentless, his hips driving against yours in a rhythm that sent shivers down your spine, each movement feeding the fire that burned between you. You felt overwhelmed, consumed, your body unable to keep up with the intensity of his desire, but you didn’t want him to stop. Not ever.

“Suguru……” you whimpered again, your voice cracking, barely able to speak as his thrusts grew rougher, more desperate. “Please…”

But whether you were begging for more or for a moment’s reprieve, even you didn’t know. He responded with a low, guttural moan, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. His eyes, dark and wild, locked onto yours as he murmured in a voice thick with lust.

“I need you… I need you more than anything. You’re everything.”

Your heart pounded, his words igniting something deep within you as your body gave in completely, surrendering to him as if you were both caught in the grip of something sacred and sinful all at once. He pushed deeper, each thrust taking you to the edge of what your body could handle, the pleasure blending with a delicious ache that left you trembling against him.

The thunder outside roared, masking your moans as his worship grew more fervent, his devotion unrelenting. Your body shook beneath him, every nerve alight as he claimed you over and over. Your hands slid up his back, your nails digging into his skin, marking him as yours as he took you higher, his pace unbroken, his rhythm fierce and untamed.

Lightning flashed again, casting the room in harsh light, illuminating the way his muscles strained as he drove into you, his face twisted in both agony and ecstasy. His voice, hoarse and filled with desperate reverence, reached you between the booming thunder.

“You’re mine… only mine.”

The words broke something in you, your body shaking as the pleasure surged through you once again, your cries swallowed by the storm. You clung to him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body collapsing into his as the intensity of it all took you to the brink of delirium.

Suguru wasn’t far behind. His movements grew frantic, his body trembling with the effort of holding back as long as he could. But in the end, he couldn’t resist any longer. With a low, primal groan, he buried himself deep inside you one last time, his release washing over him as he collapsed into you, his entire body shaking with the force of it.

For a moment, neither of you moved, tangled together in a haze of exhaustion and bliss, the sound of the storm outside slowly fading into the background. His breath was heavy against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he whispered.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And as you lay there, wrapped in each other, you knew the truth of it — this was something neither of you could escape. Not the sin, not the pleasure, not the way you were both hopelessly bound to one another. For better or worse, you were his, and he was yours. Bound in sin, bound in love, bound in something far more powerful than either of you could understand.

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epilogue

The car hummed softly beneath you as you drove, the highway stretching out ahead, quiet and serene in the early morning light. Your daughter sat in the passenger seat, her backpack nestled between her feet, her gaze fixed out the window as the city gave way to the open road leading toward the airport. The silence between you was comfortable, but there was an unspoken tension — the weight of goodbye looming just ahead.

You glanced over at her, your heart swelling with pride and a little bit of that inevitable ache that comes with watching your child leave. She had grown so much, blossomed into a young woman full of ambition and dreams. College was her next chapter, and you were ready to let her go, even if the thought tugged at your heart.

As if sensing your thoughts, she turned to you, her brow furrowed in concern. "Are you gonna be alright, Mom?" Her voice was soft, careful, as if she was more worried about you than her own big journey ahead.

You smiled at her, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm going to be fine." You paused, your smile growing a little softer. "I have Suguru."

She smiled back, a knowing look in her eyes. She had grown up with Suguru around, seeing the way you two fit together. Over time, she understood the depth of your bond, even if she didn’t know the whole story.

"I’m glad." she said quietly. "He’s good for you."

You nodded, your chest tightening a bit as the airport came into view. "He is. And I’m going to miss you. But you know you can come back anytime, right? This is always your home."

She smiled, though it was tinged with the same bittersweet feeling you carried. "I know, Mom. I’ll come back as soon as I can."

After pulling up to the drop-off zone, you hugged her tightly, savoring the warmth of her embrace. "I’m so proud of you." you whispered, holding her just a little longer than usual.

"I love you, Mom." she murmured back before pulling away, her eyes a little misty. She gave you one last smile before grabbing her bag and disappearing through the airport doors.

For a moment, you sat there, watching the entrance as people hurried by, the world continuing on as always. You felt the pang of her absence already, but you knew that she was ready for this new adventure. And so were you.

With a deep breath, you turned the car around and headed back toward town, a quiet excitement building in your chest. Suguru was waiting for you. As you neared the church, the sight of it stirred something in you. It was the place where so much had started, where your life had taken a turn you could never have predicted.

Suguru had officially left the priesthood some time ago, and now, he was finishing the last bit of paperwork to close that chapter of his life. His decision had been made with a clear heart, for both of you and for the daughters he had taken in, Mimiko and Nanako. The three of them had already moved the rest of their things to a house just outside of town, the place where you would begin your new life together.

As you pulled into the small parking lot of the church, you spotted him standing near the entrance, his dark hair tied back, his expression calm but focused as he signed the last of the documents. He looked up when you parked, his lips curving into a soft smile as you approached.

"All set?" you asked as you reached him, your fingers brushing his in a quiet greeting.

He nodded, setting the paperwork aside. "It’s done. Everything’s in order." His smile widened, that familiar warmth in his gaze. "I’m free."

You exhaled softly, the weight of his words filling the space between you. He had left the priesthood not for the sake of running away from something, but for the chance to fully embrace the life he wanted — the life he wanted with you.

"So," you asked with a playful tilt of your head, "where to next?"

Suguru smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his, his touch grounding and steady, as it had always been. "I want to devote the rest of my life to you," he said simply, his voice gentle yet filled with unwavering certainty.

Your heart swelled at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through you. He had always been devoted, but now it was different. Now, there were no barriers, no walls between you. It was just the two of you, ready to build something beautiful together.

You smiled, stepping closer and resting your head against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt like home. "Then let’s go, hm?" you whispered. "Let’s start the rest of our lives."

And as you drove away from the church together, toward the house that would soon become your shared home, the future felt wide open — a new chapter, a new beginning. You had Suguru. You had love. And for the first time, you felt entirely free.

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rootedinrevisions · 3 months ago

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Old Flames, New Wounds (Kinktober 2024: Day 4)

SUMMARY: Years after a bitter breakup, you find yourself face-to-face with Jake “Hangman” Seresin at The Hard Deck, reigniting all the anger and unresolved feelings you'd buried.

PROMPT: "I could help you feel better."

KINK: Hate Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (P in V sex)

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

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The last thing you ever told Jake Seresin was that you hated him. And you meant it.

That smug, cocky pilot had taken what little spark your short-lived relationship had and snuffed it out with his dismissive attitude. He called you “too much,” oversharing, saying you revealed more about yourself than a “new girlfriend” should. The accusation still stung every time you thought about it, as if wanting to connect was a crime in his world. You, in turn, made it clear that he was nothing more than a flirt—a man who couldn’t resist checking out other women right in front of you, even on dates. You told him off, and before he could toss another patronizing smirk your way, you let him have it, “I hate you, and I hope I never have to see your stupid face again.”

And for years, you didn’t.

That is, until tonight.

You were settled at The Hard Deck, your favorite spot at the bar, engrossed in the latest thriller you’d picked up, occasionally chatting with Penny between chapters. It was a quiet evening. The salty sea air was soothing, and the bar’s familiar warmth offered a welcome break from the world outside. At least, it was peaceful, until you heard that voice.

That same, infuriating drawl you’d spent years trying to forget. Your stomach dropped as you turned in your barstool and saw him. Sure enough, there was Jake “Hangman” Seresin, laughing it up and playing darts with his buddies like he hadn’t left a trail of bitterness in his wake.

You turned back around, pulling your book closer, determined to avoid him. You had no interest in rekindling any form of conversation with him, let alone acknowledging his presence. But of course, you weren’t that lucky.

You could feel his eyes on you before you heard his footsteps. When Penny rang the bell after an older guy made a fool of himself, Jake approached the bar to order another round. His gaze zeroed in on you, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Well, well, well,” came that smooth, too-familiar voice. “If it isn’t the woman who swore she never wanted to see my face again.”

You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing as you met his smug grin. “And I meant it,” you muttered under your breath, trying to focus on your book.

Jake chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Still sticking with that story, huh? You sure you're not just a little happy to see me? Admit it—missed this face just a bit.”

You scoffed, setting your book down and looking at him, deadpan. “I’m serious, Seresin. Seeing your face again is like getting hit by a truck I didn’t see coming.”

Jake smirked, leaning against the bar with casual arrogance. “Aw, c’mon, sweetheart. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Your blood boiled at the way he called you "sweetheart." He hadn’t earned the right to use nicknames, not after what had gone down between you two.

“What’s harsh,” you shot back, “is the fact that you’re still under the impression I care about anything you have to say.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “That a challenge?”

Before you could snap back, Penny interrupted, sliding him his drinks and giving you a look that said Don’t let him get under your skin. You took a breath, trying to calm the fire building inside you. But Jake wasn’t done.

“Still got that attitude I see. No wonder things didn’t work out between us,” he teased, his voice just loud enough for some of the others to overhear.

Your patience snapped. “You’re right, Seresin. It didn’t work out because you couldn’t go five minutes without checking out some random woman while we were out. I guess commitment wasn’t your strong suit.”

The mood around the bar shifted as people started to pick up on the personal nature of your jabs. Rooster, sitting nearby, exchanged glances with Coyote, and even Penny gave Jake a warning look.

But Jake, being Jake, didn’t back down.

“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember you being the poster child for a great girlfriend either. A little too eager to unload all your baggage on date number two.”

That stung. Hard. The words hit you like a slap to the face, and for a moment, you were speechless. But the hurt quickly morphed into anger.

“At least I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed asshole who could barely hold a conversation unless it was about himself,” you shot back, your voice sharper now.

Jake's smirk faltered, and for a moment, something more than cocky amusement flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that infuriating grin once again.

Before things could escalate further, Phoenix stepped in, laying a hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Cool it, Hangman,” she said, her tone firm. “We’re here to have a good time, not start a bar fight.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at Jake, who simply shrugged, looking like he was enjoying every second of getting under your skin. “No fight here. Just some honest conversation between two... old friends.”

“Yeah, old friends,” you muttered bitterly, grabbing your book again, though your mind was far from the words on the page. The tension lingered, thick in the air, as Jake gave you one last glance before heading back to his game of darts.

But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

You tried to focus on your book, but the words blurred on the page, your mind still spinning from the last encounter with Jake. How could he waltz back into your life like nothing had happened, that same irritating smirk plastered on his face? The memory of his smug tone and condescending remarks gnawed at you, making it impossible to concentrate.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to shake it off, but his voice and presence lingered in the back of your mind. It didn’t help that every so often you could hear his laugh—loud and obnoxious—coming from across the room as he played darts with his friends. You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to keep reading, anything to ignore him.

For a while, it worked. He left you alone, and you tried to convince yourself that he wasn’t worth the space in your head. The bar around you carried on as usual, people laughing, talking, music playing. But peace was short-lived.

About half an hour later, you heard him again, this time back at the bar. He was ordering another round for the guys, and you kept your head down, praying he wouldn’t notice you. You didn’t want to deal with him again, not after the way the last conversation went.

Just as you turned the page of your book, you heard a giggle next to you. A girl, clearly tipsy, leaned over the bar, swaying a little as she tried to catch her balance.

“Oh my god,” she slurred, her eyes wide as she whispered to her friend. “That guy... he’s been looking at me all night. He’s so cute.”

Curious, you glanced up and followed her gaze, and sure enough, it was Jake. He was standing at the end of the bar, waiting for his drinks, casually leaning against the counter as his eyes swept over the room—apparently landing on the girl next to you.

Your stomach twisted with irritation. Of course, Jake was back to his old tricks.

The girl’s friend giggled back, but you couldn’t help yourself. Before you could think it through, the words slipped out.

“Trust me,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for the girl to hear, “he’s not the kind of guy you want to go home with.”

The tipsy girl blinked at you in confusion, her smile faltering slightly. “What do you mean?”

You leaned in slightly, your voice low. “I mean, he’s a flirt. He’ll sweet talk you, charm you, but once you’re hooked, he loses interest. He’s not worth the trouble.”

Unfortunately, you underestimated how close Jake was. He clearly overheard you because the next thing you knew, he was standing right behind you, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh really?” he drawled. “That what you think of me?”

You turned in your stool, and there he was—his green eyes glinting with amusement, that same cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Of course, he’d heard you.

“You’re eavesdropping now?” you shot back, refusing to let him intimidate you.

Jake raised an eyebrow, pretending to be hurt. “Just happened to catch a warning about myself. Thought I’d see if you still felt the same way after all this time.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Still hate me, sweetheart?”

You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “That hasn’t changed, Seresin.”

The girl next to you, sensing the tension, awkwardly shuffled away, leaving you and Jake alone at the bar. He took her place, casually leaning against the counter again, his smirk never wavering.

“Funny,” he mused, “I don’t remember doing anything that terrible to deserve all this hate.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “That’s because you’re too self-absorbed to notice.”

Jake tilted his head, a faux-thoughtful expression on his face. “Self-absorbed, huh? Are you sure you weren’t just a little too sensitive back then? Maybe reading into things that weren’t there?”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, his words poking at an old wound. He was doing it again—dismissing your feelings like they didn’t matter. “Sensitive?” you repeated, your voice sharp. “No, Jake. I wasn’t being sensitive. You were a walking red flag. You couldn’t even keep your eyes on me during a date without checking out every other woman in the room.”

He chuckled, not taking you seriously. “Come on, you’re exaggerating. I was just being... friendly.”

“Friendly?” you shot back, incredulous. “You were flirting with other women while we were out together. Hell, you probably flirted with the waitress the night you broke up with me.”

Jake’s smirk wavered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Oh please,” he muttered, his voice low, “You’re acting like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Well,” you said, your eyes narrowing, “you weren’t exactly the best.”

Jake’s playful grin faltered for real this time. Something in your words hit a nerve, and you could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Penny stepped in again, sliding a drink in front of him.

“That’s enough, both of you,” she said sternly, giving you both a look. “This is a bar, not a battlefield.”

Jake took the drink from her, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped back. “We’re just having a conversation, Penny,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.

Penny wasn’t buying it. “Sure. But keep it civil, alright?”

Jake nodded, but there was still that glint in his eye. He downed his drink in one swift motion before setting the glass back on the bar. “Well, I’ll leave you to your... reading,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll still be around if you decide you need a little reminder of what you’re missing.”

You clenched your fists, biting back the retort that was on the tip of your tongue as he sauntered away, that damn smirk back on his face. You hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he made you feel like the years hadn’t changed a thing between the two of you.

The bar had thinned out as the night wore on. Most of the pilots had already left, and only a handful remained—unfortunately, Jake was one of them. You were doing your best to ignore him, nursing your drink and pretending he didn’t exist. As long as he stayed on his side of the bar and you stayed on yours, everything would be fine.

After a trip to the bathroom, you came out into the dimly lit hallway, wiping your hands on your jeans. That’s when you saw him—the guy who had been hovering around you all night. He’d tried talking to you earlier, hitting on you with a few drinks in hand, but each time you politely turned him down. You weren’t interested, and you’d made that clear.

But now, in the narrow hallway, there was no way to escape him.

You felt your chest tighten as he stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker than the casual flirting from earlier.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and slurred, “you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder all night. You don’t have to play hard to get.”

He moved in, his breath heavy with alcohol, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. You recoiled, pressing your back against the wall, but there was nowhere to go. Panic surged through you as he pinned you there, his body looming over yours. You wanted to scream, to fight, but your body was frozen, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

His grip tightened on your arm, and you felt the walls closing in. You opened your mouth to shout, but no sound came out. Fear had swallowed your voice, leaving you powerless.

Just then, the men's bathroom door swung open with a creak, and you turned your head, desperately searching for help. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him—Jake Seresin. Of all the people who could have walked out in that moment, it had to be him.

He caught your eyes instantly, and something in your expression must have set him off because his face shifted in an instant—from his usual cocky smirk to a look of deadly seriousness.

Without a second’s hesitation, Jake crossed the hallway, his eyes locked on the man pinning you against the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jake’s voice was ice-cold as he grabbed the guy by the shoulder and yanked him off you with surprising force.

The man stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. “Hey, man, back off. This one's taken,” the guy slurred, trying to square up to Jake, but Jake wasn’t having any of it.

“She said no,” Jake growled, stepping between you and the drunk. “So I suggest you take the hint before this gets ugly.”

The guy laughed, clearly not understanding the danger he was in. “What, you her boyfriend or something?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, his chest puffed out, radiating that cocky, intimidating confidence you had always hated but were suddenly thankful for.

“Yeah, I am,” Jake said, his voice calm but lethal. “And I don’t take kindly to assholes like you thinking they can put their hands on her.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart still racing, but Jake’s presence was grounding, pulling you out of the fog of fear. He slid into the role of your protective boyfriend so seamlessly, like it was second nature. And for once, you weren’t going to argue with it.

The guy looked between you and Jake, finally realizing he was outmatched. Jake towered over him, his jaw clenched tight, and for a moment, you thought the guy might try something, but then he backed down. He mumbled something under his breath and turned to leave, but not before Jake grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the door.

“Get out,” Jake ordered, his voice low and dangerous. “Before I make sure you never step foot in this bar again.”

The guy stumbled out, muttering curses under his breath, and with a final glare at Jake, he disappeared into the night. You stood there, still pressed against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jake turned to you, his expression softening now that the threat was gone.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice gentler than you expected.

You nodded, though you were still trying to catch your breath. “I—I think so. I just… froze.”

Jake’s eyes softened, a hint of concern flashing through his usual bravado. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and reassuring. “That guy was a creep. None of this is on you.”

You managed a weak smile, grateful for the fact that he didn’t push for more details, didn’t make you feel small for freezing in that moment. Jake Seresin, of all people, had been the one to step in when you needed it most, and it was throwing you for a loop.

As if sensing the shift, Jake tilted his head, his smirk returning just slightly.

“So,” he said, a glint of playfulness back in his eyes, “still hate my guts, or am I back in your good graces for the night?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “You’re still an ass, Seresin,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.

He chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. “Fair enough,” he said, looking a little too pleased with himself. “But for tonight, I’ll take being your ass over letting that guy get away with anything.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a part of you—however small—that was thankful for him tonight.

As the night began to wind down at The Hard Deck, the bar had mostly emptied out, leaving just a few stragglers nursing their last drinks. You were still on edge from the earlier incident, even though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. You told yourself you were fine, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach said otherwise. Jake had gone back to his friends after the confrontation, but every now and then, you caught him glancing your way, keeping an eye on you.

You finished your drink and set the glass down with a quiet clink, deciding it was time to head out. As you stood from your stool, you felt Jake’s eyes on you again. He was still with the last few pilots who hadn’t called it a night yet, but you could tell he was paying more attention to you than to them. You waved Penny a quick goodbye, thanking her for the company, and made your way toward the exit.

Just as you reached the door, Jake caught up with you.

“You heading out?” he asked casually, but there was an edge of concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, trying to brush it off. “Just gonna get home before it gets any later.”

Jake glanced around, then looked back at you, his expression unreadable. “Let me walk you to your car.”

You hesitated, feeling that familiar mix of annoyance and gratitude at his sudden protectiveness. “Jake, I’m fine. It’s not far—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not pushy. “But I don’t want to take any chances. You’re still a little shaken up, and I don’t trust that guy from earlier.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but something in his eyes stopped you. He wasn’t being smug or cocky—this was different. He was genuinely concerned. Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him follow you outside.

As soon as you stepped into the parking lot, you spotted him—the guy who had cornered you earlier. He was lingering near the far end of the lot, leaning against a beat-up car and lighting a cigarette. Your heart skipped a beat, and your body went tense as you instinctively took a step back.

Jake immediately noticed your reaction and followed your gaze, his expression darkening when he saw the guy. Without missing a beat, he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the man’s view.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Jake muttered under his breath. He turned to you, his jaw set. “You’re not driving home tonight. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’ll come get your car in the morning.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden decisiveness. “Jake, that’s not necessary, I—”

“It is necessary,” he interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’m not letting you drive home with that asshole lurking around. What if he follows you?”

Your heart raced at the thought, and despite your instinct to argue, you knew he was right. The guy hadn’t exactly backed down earlier, and who knew what he was capable of, especially after a few more drinks. You sighed, your frustration ebbing as you realized Jake was just trying to keep you safe.

“Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “But only because I don’t want to deal with him.”

Jake smirked, though the usual cockiness was tempered with something softer, more serious. “Good. Let’s go.”

He led you to his truck, unlocking the door and waiting for you to climb in before he got behind the wheel. As he drove, the hum of the engine and the quiet of the night settled between you. For once, Jake wasn’t talking or cracking jokes. He kept his focus on the road, glancing over at you occasionally, making sure you were okay.

The ride to his place was quicker than you expected. When you pulled up outside his apartment, Jake turned off the engine and gave you a soft look.

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” he said, opening his door.

You followed him inside, feeling a little out of place. His apartment was surprisingly neat for someone you used to consider a mess of a person. Jake disappeared into his bedroom for a moment, then returned with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Here,” he said, handing them to you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Make yourself comfortable.”

You took the clothes and nodded, retreating to the bathroom to change. Once you were in his clothes, you felt a little more at ease, the comfort of the soft fabric and the faint scent of his cologne oddly soothing. When you returned to the living room, Jake was already setting up the couch for himself.

“You can take my bed,” he offered, tossing a pillow onto the couch. “I’ll crash out here.”

You shook your head, feeling a twinge of guilt. “No, Jake, you don’t have to—”

“Not gonna argue,” he said with a grin. “Bed’s yours for the night.”

But before you could protest further, a strange feeling settled over you—one of safety, of knowing Jake wasn’t going to let anything happen to you tonight. And despite everything, despite how much history lay between the two of you, you found yourself unwilling to sleep without him next to you.

“Jake,” you said softly, your voice almost catching in your throat, “can you just… stay with me?”

He paused, clearly surprised by your request, but the seriousness of your tone seemed to strike a chord with him. He nodded slowly, tossing the pillow back onto the bed.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay.”

You both settled into his bed, the tension from earlier fading into something softer. As you lay beside him, the weight of the night began to lift, and for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could trust him to look out for you.

As you and Jake lay side by side in the dark, the tension that had built up throughout the night refused to dissipate completely. The silence between you felt heavy, and though you’d initially felt a strange comfort in his presence, the weight of old wounds still lingered beneath the surface.

Jake shifted beside you, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place as if he couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet, “you’ve really got to loosen up.”

You blinked, staring up at the ceiling, not quite believing he was starting this now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, come on,” Jake replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re always so wound up. It’s like you can’t let go for even a second. What’s the matter? Been a while since anyone helped you relax?”

You clenched your fists beneath the covers, anger flaring inside you. “Excuse me?”

Jake shrugged, seemingly oblivious to how close you were to snapping. “I’m just saying, when’s the last time you got laid?”

You turned your head to face him, your eyes narrowing in the darkness. “That’s none of your business, Jake,” you said, your voice low but biting.

He raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Oh, come on, it was a joke.”

But it didn’t feel like a joke. The frustration of the past two years, the unresolved anger and tension between the two of you—it all bubbled to the surface.

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, quieter than you’d intended, but they carried the weight of a confession you hadn’t wanted to make. “The last time I was with someone was you.”

Jake went still beside you, the cocky smirk falling from his face. For a moment, he said nothing, clearly not expecting that. The air between you grew thick with the sudden shift in mood, the flippant nature of the conversation disappearing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally muttered, his voice low and disbelieving.

You shook your head, looking away from him. “Why would I joke about that?”

Jake chuckled and said more to himself than you, “That explains so much. I could help you feel better, you know?”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, the tension in the room intensifying. Jake shifted again, this time turning toward you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t—” he started, but whatever he was about to say was lost as his gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken passing between you.

The anger, the resentment, the desire—it all came to a head, and before you knew what was happening, you were reaching for him, your lips crashing into his.

The kiss was messy, heated, full of everything you’d both been holding back for far too long. It was like all the pent-up frustration and unresolved feelings had been waiting for this moment, and now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping it.

Jake groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his touch rough and demanding. You matched his intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him harder, your body reacting to the fire igniting between you.

The years of distance, the bitterness, it all melted away as your bodies pressed together, the heat of his skin searing against yours. His lips moved from yours to your neck, biting and kissing with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers digging into his back as if trying to ground yourself in the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over.

“You’re so goddamn frustrating,” you whispered against his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” Jake growled, his hands slipping under your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was even more intense, a clash of lips and teeth that left you both breathless.

Whatever restraint had been holding you back was gone now, replaced by raw, undeniable need. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head before he did the same to you, his hands roaming over your body with a possessiveness that left you wanting more.

The tension that had been simmering for years exploded into something hot and primal, your bodies moving together with a desperation that neither of you could control. The sheets twisted around you as you shifted, Jake’s weight pressing down on you as he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands exploring every inch of your skin.

It wasn’t soft or sweet—this was pure, unfiltered passion, all the emotions you’d buried over the years coming to the surface in a heated, almost angry release. You couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough, your mind clouded by the intensity of the moment.

When he finally pushed into you, it was like the culmination of everything you’d both been holding back. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss that left you breathless.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the occasional growl of his name as you both lost yourselves in the moment. It was fast, rough, and full of the tension you’d both carried for so long. Every thrust, every kiss, felt like years of frustration finally being unleashed.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but by the time you both collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathing heavily, the tension in the room had shifted. The anger and frustration were still there, but now they were tangled up in something else—something raw, unresolved, and far more complicated than you’d expected.

Jake lay beside you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind racing, wondering what the hell you’d just done.

“Well,” Jake finally muttered, his voice rough and still a little breathless, “guess we got that out of our systems.”

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hypernova-writes · 15 days ago

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Meant To Be

Pairing: Older!Scout x Reader.

Synopsis: You and Scout have recently started dating again after not seeing each other in years. You're helping him set up Christmas, and caring for the children...with a surprise for your boyfriend as well~

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONNNEEE you all have made the second half of this year very special for me!! I joined this fandom in July thanks to my friend and I've had a wonderful time so far!! I can't wait to see what the future holds <3 hope you enjoy~!

"JR! No come back here!"

Childish giggles filled the house as you chased Jeremy's youngest, Jr around trying to make sure he was properly dressed before Scout's Ma came. She was coming to spend time with her grandkids since Jeremy already hosted the mercs on the 24th.

You finally caught up to the little runner and swept him up into your arms, kissing him on the cheek and making him squeal as you placed him down.

You watched as he ran to tackle one of his sisters as you feel Jeremy wrap his arms around you.

"You're doing so good Babydoll..Such a good momma.."

You chuckle as he sways with you in his arms. His face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you had been dating for a year after rekindling with each other, with you having retired before the rest of the mercs. You and Jeremy were always close, and played around with dating before but now that you were older, you two wanted to make it official.

Jeremy chuckled as he watched his two oldest run by before he places his hand on your lower stomach.

"I can't wait til we can have one of our own Dollface..they'll look just like you, and I'd love them all the same.."

You smile softly and turn in his arms, kissing his cheek, then his lips, hearing a chorus of 'ews' come from the children who were peeking around the corner.

Jeremy was about to playfully scold them before there was a knock at the door. The kids all went scampering towards the door yelling "GRANDMAAA!!"

Cathyrn barely had time to make it through the door, as all 7 of her grandkids were attached to her. She giggles as she shuffled through the small crowd of children before coming over and kissing Jeremy on the forehead, then pulled you into a hug.

"Ahh! You two are so cute together~! Jer! You better keep this one, I like her alot."

Jeremy smirks as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to his body. "..I plan on it Ma! She's my world..and I let her go once.." He leans so that your heads were touching.

"And I'm not lettin' her go ever again. She's perfect."

You blush bashfully and avert your gaze from your boyfriend which only made his Mom giggle.

"Well come on! I brought gifts for the kiddos and you two!"

You all head into the living room where Cathryn handed gifts to all of the children, you sat on the couch with Jeremy watching as the kids happily squealed and started playing with the toys gifted to them by their grandma.

You motion for Cathryn to hand you a small from under the tree with Jeremy's name on it. Jeremy seemed to have the same idea, as he got up, excusing himself to get your gift.

You carried on a conversation with Cathryn, who was holding Jr, who was playing with a stuffed animal that she gave him. The two of you talked until Jeremy came back in.

"Ahh Babes. Can you close ya eyes for me? I want this to be a surprise."

You looked to Cathryn, then smiled, closing your eyes as he asked.

Hearing him shuffle, before he cleared his throat and spoke. "Hey..you can open your eyes now."

When you opened your eyes, you gasped as your hands flew to your mouth, "Oh..Jeremy..."

Jeremy was down on one knee, that same adorable smile that you loved on his face, with a ring in his hand.

"Listen..(Y/n). I was naive then, I let you go, but now that I have you now. I don't even want to let you go.."

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously before finishing:

"Will you marry me?"

You nodded happily, holding out your hand so he could slip the ring on your finger. You pulled him into a tight hug and rocked him from side to side for a bit.

His mother, who was moved to tears wiped them away as she smiles at her son. "Oh Jer..I just know you two are gonna be so happy together.."

Jeremy chuckles as he pulls away from your hug, and tilts his head. "Soooo, how about your gift babe? Whatcha got for me?"

You giggle as you grabbed the box from beside you, before holding it out to him.

He takes it from your hands, being slow to pull the bow off of it before he opened it. Inside?

A positive pregnancy test.

Jeremy froze for a bit and it concerned his mom before her showed the box to her.

"Oh (Y/n)! Youre-!" She clapped her hands excitedly as Jeremy pulled you into a tight hug, buring his head into the crook of your neck.

You wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back, was he..crying?

"Baby? Are you crying?..."

"Hell yea I'm crying! You..You..you just became my wife..and gave me another kid! These are tears of joy!"

Jeremy pulls you into another kiss before turning to the kids and clearing his throat.

"Alright! Everyone! From now on, (Y/n) is staying with us..and..you're getting a new sibling!"

It took the kids a minute to process but they soon exploded into cheers and all of them came running over to You, you did your best to hug them all as Jeremy looked down at you.

"Thank you Babe.."

"No need, Jer..you said it before..we were meant for each other..now we're expanding our family.."

"Yea..we are..— wait! Jr no! Don't eat that!! That's an ornament! Ma! Get him!"

"I got him!"

You chuckle as you watch your new Mother in law and your future husband chase around the 3 year old.

You had a family, your not so little family.

With the one you were always meant to be with.

Happy Holidays!!! 💞

#tf2 fandom #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 x reader #tf2 fanfic #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 #team fortress 2 imagines #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #tf2 scout x reader #scout x reader

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puppym3 · 5 months ago

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want a dom han one? I got you unnie!! Han is my bias wrecker and believe me I have MANY ideas. So my idea was: "Han saw you walking with your ex on street going to a club in a sexy outfit and he got jealous so he got dom" I hope it's good enough thank you for accepting my last request and if you want to put me in the tag list I don't have a problem :)) thank you unnieee I love youu <333

───

➤ han jisung x reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, jealousy, public sex, unprotected piv, fingers (f. rec), pull-out game crazy, risky sex in random alley, ig they're in love now?, (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: THANK YOU @jiyeonslays FOR THE SUGGESTION, i love you so much, i hope i wrote it nicely <3 i hope you're having a nice day or night where you are, I've been getting tons of han and hyunjin suggestions and it makes me so happy!

love you guys, stay sexy! if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!

───

You’d barely noticed the crisp night air as you walked down the bustling street, arm-in-arm with your ex. Your outfit clung to your curves, a daring choice for a night out at the club. The city lights bounced off the sequins of your dress, casting a mesmerizing shimmer that caught the eyes of passersby.

Your ex's hand rested possessively on your lower back, and the occasional flirtatious comment and laugh between you made it clear that the evening was meant to rekindle old flames. You were having a decent time, but your mind was far from at ease.

There were so many other things you'd rather be doing.

Your phone was filled with text messages from your friend, who had been nosy about the whole thing, she was the one who set you up for this entire date anyway. She did that because she liked your friend, and wanted you to get out of the picture for her.

The two of you were walking to a popular club in the heart of the city, the line for the entrance was already wrapped around the building.

"Do you wanna stand in line or should we just go back to my place?" Your ex's tone was low and suggestive, and you knew what he wanted.

You sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to like your response, "I'm sorry, but I just want to get a drink and have a good time."

Your ex rolled his eyes, "We can always do that. Just come back with me, please."

His tone was desperate, and you couldn't help but wonder if you'd made a mistake by agreeing to see him again.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your wrist,

"I thought I told you to stay away from her." It was the voice of someone who was trying very hard to remain calm, but the rage was there. You turned around, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Han..."

"Who the hell is this?" Your ex said, not pleased with this interruption.

You felt embarrassed, especially because it was in front of a whole crowd, "This is Han, my friend."

Your ex scoffed, "Friend? That's what they call it nowadays?"

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." Han was practically fuming. You felt his grip tighten as he snaked his arm around you to protectively lay around your waist as if he was afraid to let go.

Your ex’s eyes narrowed, clearly offended by Han's overt display of possessiveness. The crowd around the club seemed to sense the tension, some looking over with curiosity while others tried to ignore the scene.

Han’s gaze remained fixed on your ex, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “I’ve told you before—stay away from her.”

You could see your ex bristling, clearly not liking the turn of events. His voice came out low and threatening, his hands clenched into fists.

"What the hell are you even doing here? Did you follow us?"

Han ignored him and instead turned to look at you. You felt your heart leap into your throat as you looked into his dark brown eyes. You saw a fire burning behind them, an intensity that you had never seen before. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was electric, sending sparks throughout your body. You felt your knees grow weak, and your breath quickened. Han pulled away, his eyes searching yours for a moment. He then turned back to your ex, his eyes darkening as he spoke,

"Leave."

Your ex was stunned, his eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

Han stood there, his jaw clenched and his arms crossed. He was not backing down.

Your ex let out a shaky breath and turned away, muttering a curse under his breath as he left.

Han's eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Then he grabbed your wrist and led you to a secluded area, where he pinned you against the wall.

You gasped as you felt his body pressed against yours, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"What- What's wrong?" You stammered, trying to regain your composure.

Han's grip tightened, and you winced slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing him again?" His voice was low and dangerous, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You were taken aback by his question, your cheeks flushing as you tried to find the words to explain yourself.

"I... It wasn't... it wasn't set up by me."

Han's brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. He wasn't convinced.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were hanging out with him? How do I know you didn't plan on going home with him tonight?"

You shook your head, your eyes wide as you tried to make him understand.

"No! No, it wasn't like that, I swear!"

Han's lips were pressed together in a thin line, his expression unreadable.

"Then what was it like?"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were struggling to breathe.

"I was trying to get over you."

You felt his body tense against yours, and he took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Get over me?"

You nodded, your eyes beginning to sting.

"I like you, Han. But it wouldn't be right for me, because someone else likes you."

Han's eyebrows knitted together, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Is this about your friend?"

"Yeah, she wants you and she thought maybe if I was out of the picture, she could step in."

Han sighed, his expression softening as he took a step toward you.

"I don't want her."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, and you held your breath, unsure of what to say.

Han’s confession hung in the air between you, a tender vulnerability in his eyes. His hand gently brushed your cheek, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I don’t want her,” he repeated, his voice steady but filled with a deep sincerity. “I want you.”

His words sent a thrill through your body, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in closer, your lips seeking his. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close. His kiss was gentle at first, but quickly became more passionate. You felt his tongue brush against yours, and a moan escaped your lips.

He pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body. You were lost in the moment, the taste of him on your lips, the heat of his touch on your skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream or if it was real.

He broke the kiss and stared into your eyes. "Seeing you with that asshole drove me crazy."

You were still dazed, your breathing heavy. You struggled to find the words to respond, but Han continued.

"I wanted to break his fingers, just for touching you."

You gasped as Han's hand drifted up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up.

"You're mine."

You nodded, your lips parting as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving between your legs. You gasped, feeling his fingers teasing you, slipping under your panties.

He broke the kiss and pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes.

"Say it."

You swallowed, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your breath catching as he slid a finger inside you.

"Good girl."

He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moan. You felt his tongue dance across yours as his fingers worked their magic.

You couldn't help but tremble, the cold night air, the feeling him slowly pumping in and out of you, his thumb brushing over your clit. It was all too much.

"You're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

You let out a small whimper, his words sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

He removed his hand, and you heard the sound of a zipper being undone. You opened your eyes, gazing up at him.

"H-Here?" You said, your eyes widened in panic.

He chuckled softly, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you up.

"You think I'm going to wait any longer than I have to?"

He carried you over to a random ledge in the alleyway, the metal surface cool against your heated skin. He lowered you down onto it, the metal creaking beneath your weight.

He reached up, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging it back. You gasped, exposing your neck to him. He bent down, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your throat, trailing down to the swell of your breasts.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the contours of your body.

You shivered, feeling the cold air against your exposed flesh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the need for him growing more and more urgent.

"Please," you breathed, unable to wait any longer.

He grinned, his hand sliding between your legs, stroking the sensitive flesh. You shuddered, feeling the heat of his palm against your slick folds.

"What do you want, baby?" He whispered, his fingers tracing light circles on your clit.

You moaned, unable to form a coherent response, your mind clouded by the pleasure his touch was bringing you.

He chuckled, his hand moving lower, slipping a finger inside you. You gasped, feeling him thrusting into you, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Please," you moaned, arching your back, pressing your breasts against his chest.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his hand moving faster, his thumb circling your clit.

You moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he pleasured you. Your body trembled, the sensation overwhelming. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

"I need you," you whimpered, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He groaned, his other hand grasping the back of your neck, his lips devouring yours.

"You'll get me, baby."

You shuddered, feeling him pull his finger out of you.

He grabbed the base of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance.

He pressed his lips against yours, his tongue sliding past your lips. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the head of his cock pressing against your slick folds.

You gasped as he thrust inside you, stretching you open, filling you completely.

You moaned, feeling him slide out, only to thrust back in, deeper than before.

You clung to him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he rocked his hips, his pace growing faster and harder.

"God, you feel so good," he moaned, his voice strained.

You cried out, feeling him slamming into you, the pressure building within you.

"Don't stop," you pleaded, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling it back as his hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you.

You cried out, feeling the heat in the pit of your stomach rising.

"I can't," he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

You whimpered, the pressure building, threatening to burst.

He grunted, his grip tightening on your hair.

"Cum for me, baby."

You cried out, your body shuddering as you came, your climax washing over you.

He moaned, his hips bucking, pulling out before his cock twitched as he spilled his seed on your thigh.

You collapsed against the cold metal below you, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.

You looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded, a smile on your lips.

He grinned, leaning down to kiss you, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes filled with concern.

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, your voice shaky.

He kissed you again, his lips lingering against yours.

"But, we are... kind of in a public space."

Han blinked, looking around the alleyway, "We are, aren't we?"

"Uh-huh."

He chuckled, helping you off the ledge.

"That was a bit spontaneous of us."

You giggled, pulling him into another kiss.

"It was," you agreed, smiling up at him. "Let's hope there's no cameras here."

Han glanced up, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best."

The two of you dressed quickly, adjusting your clothes and making sure there was no evidence of your little tryst.

He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

"Where to now?"

You thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, I did want to go dancing."

───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

#skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #han fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung #han smut #skz jisung #stray kids jisung #han x reader #jisung x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months ago

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Hey! I love your writing so much, and was wondering if you could do an Eris x reader, maybe an enemies to lovers tension where reader is Lucien’s best friend and he brings her to Eris’s ball? Honestly anything with Eris and a little ✨tension✨

warning: past trauma/abuse

Never get too close

“Are you sure?”, Lucien had both of your hands in his as he repeated his question for what felt like a thousand times. “Yes, Lulu. Go!”, you squeezed his hands reassuringly. You had accompanied him to one of the autumn court balls. It had always been like that. If he was forced to go you always went with him. “I promise I will…”, Lucien started but you quickly cut him off, “No, promises. Go to her, she’s waiting in that garden for you”, you pushed him away slightly, nodding towards the balcony. He had been so miserable since Elain. Ready to give up on it all. It took months of trying to find his fire once again and now. Now you wanted him to live again. “You’re my favorite”, Lucien beamed, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Careful, that might break hearts”, you teased him, making him roll his eyes as he turned toward the glass door. While you sent all the prayers you knew up to Mother in hopes of this girl being nothing like the others.

“Little brother is a troll for leaving a lady like you all alone”, the voice, deep as an autumn night filled your senses. Making goosebumps run down your arms. It was always like that. Had always been like that. But you shifted your face to cool indifference as you turned to face none other than the most annoying man alive.

“Don’t flatter yourself Eris”, you mused, eyes watching him as you slowly sipped on your drink. He looked you up and down. Fiery eyes scorched your skin as he drank you in. And as pathetic as it sounded you had picked the deep green dress in hopes of seeing him. It was so stupid. But beneath it all you wanted his attention. Wanted it just the same as you were a youngling. That girl he had turned down all those years ago still holding a candle out for him.

“Thought two months away from me would rekindle your love for me”, Eris smirked, changing your drink with a fresh one. His fingers barely touching yours but enough to make your whole body tingle. “Two decades wouldn’t be enough time away from you”, you smiled at him bitterly. Eris simply licked his lips before chuckling softly, “Mother, do i love when you bring your claws out. Do you bite too?”, he was always like this. A flirt. A womanizer. Girls circled him like moths but they only got burnt by him.

“You’re pathetic, Eris”, with a roll of an eye you turned from him. Suddenly wishing that you hadn’t let Lucien go after all. Wishing that your dress wasn’t as revealing, because breathing suddenly became more harder. “Heard the mission was a success”, Eris called out making you halt. You were a general in Night court. Purely a dig at Eris. Or that’s how you wanted it to look. Because you didn’t let yourself think about Beron with his hand around your throat no more. Didn’t let yourself think about the reason you chose to move courts. Leave. Run…

“How many times did you pull Luci out of a ditch?”, Eris’s asked making you blink a couple of times as his voice chased the old memory away. “A couple”, you snorted, before turning to face the heir of fire once more, “he’s lost, I think…”, you muttered the last part glancing towards the glass door.

“In males and females, yes he is”, Eris sighed, turning to face your way as well, eyes no doubt catching a glimpse of Lucien twirling a strand of the girl's hair around his fingers. “But I rather he explores his desires than rots in a room because of an unreciprocated love”, his words made your heart skip a beat and for the first time that night, you had looked at him. Seen him. The tired eyes. The hallowed face. He was strong. Had always been. But his demons weren’t kind to him. “Speaking from experience?”, you smiled at him sweetly. Eris slowly lifted his hand, his fingers softly tracing your jaw, “Oh, you don’t even imagine, my dear”. It was so tender. So soft. But you had been a victim of his actions before. So as much as your heart drummed against the locks and cages you had put around it, you found it hard to let this feel special.

“Sometimes i wonder why you hate me”, you muttered and it’s as if your words. Words that were barely a whisper had chased the softness away. Eris’s eyes darkened once more as he set his jaw. “You’re too easy”, he said in that well-practiced cold tone. “Oh, here we go again”, you grunted, shaking your head but not daring to look away from him just yet. Eris watched you for a moment before muttering, “You’re ready to bleed for anyone if they hold you in the right way”, and it’s as if all the air around you had been sucked out. The room seemed to tilt as Eris’s words slammed into you. Your eyes stung with a promise of tears but you refused to let him see you cry. “At least I’m willing to let people hold me, not like you”, you clipped back, showing your glass against his chest, before turning to leave. Pushing through the nauseating sea of people. Pulling at the corset ribbons in the hope of letting any more air into your lungs.

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra x reader #eris vansera #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra acotar imagine #eris acotar imagine #eris acotar x reader #acotar eris #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 6 months ago

Text

Jump then fall part.3

Description: In which Aeron is Y/N's knight in shining armour and Benjicot has a soft spot for Bracken ladies crossing the border (this may be an Easter egg for future crossovers with The Blackwood Knight series 😏)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Playlist:

Fearless~ Taylor Swift @ithilwen-blackwood you are so right about Aeron being Fearless coded.

Somebody to You~ The Vamps

Hold my Girl~ George Ezra

Warnings: Canon typical misogyny, mentions of a panic attack, angst, swearing, I don't understand basic geography so I'm just making things up topographically

Y/N had hoped that taking a walk along the bank of the Red Fork would help clear her mind from the swirling thoughts that had consumed her mind of late since her return to the Riverlands. To her dismay, the gentle babbling of the river and the quiet beauty of the landscape she called home did little to distract her from thoughts of Aeron Bracken. Detained by his duties that morning, they had arranged to meet later that day. Her truest friend since she was but a girl, even the separation of many years had failed to sever their bond. Quite the opposite, and that is where the problem lay. Y/N had thought about Aeron Bracken often during her time in Kings Landing, constantly wondering whether he missed her as much as she missed him. When her father had informed her of their imminent return to the Riverlands, Y/N was delighted at the prospect of being reunited with her old friend. Whilst she had adapted to life in Kings Landing and forged new friendships, none had been as strong as the one she had made with the young Bracken boy.

She had convinced herself that everything could be just as it had been when they were children, determined to befriend him anew. But she had not counted on the butterflies that had arisen in her abdomen upon seeing him for the first time as a young man, a knight. He struck a dashing figure in the garb of his order and the colours of his house. She recalled thinking him pretty, almost like a woodland sprite as a child with his long locks of hair and sharp features. In that moment, she thought him the most handsome man she had ever seen. She found herself wanting to trace the outline of his cheekbones with her fingertips, to run her hands through his hair, which she rejoiced to see he still kept long, and she wanted to gaze into his warm brown eyes forever as they bore down into her own.

She did not know what she had been expecting, but Aeron Bracken was no longer the gangly boy she'd trusted enough upon first meeting to break her fall from the Brackentree. By the end of the evening Y/N feared that she might be falling in love this time, against all reason. He was the heir of Stone Hendge and would one day be Lord Bracken. Worse, he had been her closest friend and she had hoped he would be again. Y/N had no desire to jeopardise their friendship now they had been reunited.

While Aeron had by no means acted coldly towards her when his uncle had reintroduced them, she could not but notice how reserved and shy he seemed around her that first evening, holding her at somewhat of a distance. Several moons had passed since then and their rekindled friendship seemed stronger than ever, and there were many times when Y/N was certain Aeron shared her sentiments. He had never expressed it through words, but she had thought she had understood it in his actions.

By the way he would always read to her, knowing that she found the sound of his voice comforting, shoulders or arms always somehow brushing as they sat by side. By the way he would often bring her the flowers she adored so much, when she knew the Eastern part of the Bracken Woods where they could be found were nowhere near the training yard from whence he had come. By his gentleness towards her, always holding a hand out to help her over an obstacle and walking her home each day. And by the way he would gaze at her so attentively, looking at her as if she were the most interesting thing in his world no matter what their course of their current conversation was.

Yet Y/N was nervous to broach the subject, aiming to encourage Aeron through her own affectionate gestures and always hoping that her feelings for him were reciprocated. Mulling over her options, Y/N realised she had reached the outermost boundaries of Bracken lands, nearly stumbling over a pile up of boundary stones. Immediately turning to return back the way she had come, a jolt of raw panic pierced her heart as she spotted four Blackwood Knights storming angrily towards her. The one closest to her had a face like a storm cloud, his booming voice breaking the tranquility of the landscape.

"Bracken wench. Did you think you could just waltz right into Blackwood lands?" He sneered at her, voice dripping with venom. She opened her mouth to explain that his anger was misdirected, she had not crossed the boundary and was not strictly speaking a Bracken, but as he continued to glare furiously down at her she realised that she had chosen today of all days to wear a dress of mellow ochre, closely resembling the colours of House Bracken. She was immediately certain that nothing she said would carry much weight and started to take small but hurried steps backwards away from him, suddenly hoping Aeron would turn up and immediately cursing herself for the thought. It was not his responsibility to rescue her from every scrape she found herself in, she was no longer a child, and she would rather face a hundred shouting Blackwoods than see her knight endanger himself for her.

To her dismay the Blackwood Knight continued to advance towards her, suddenly taking hold of both her elbows in a bruising grip and aggressively shaking her. "You think you can do whatever you want, don't you? You smug Brackens. But these are Blackwood lands and there are consequences for crossing them." Panicking in earnest now, and finding herself unable to speak, Y/N feared the Blackwood would strike her or kill her where she stood, his anger so palpable and his iron grip searing through the fabric of her dress.

Her mind frantically fought for a way out of this situation, but before Y/N could act upon any of her admittedly half-baked escape plans she felt the Blackwood release her arms as he was abruptly shoved away from her onto the ground. A gentle but firm hand encircled her wrist, and she was swiftly pulled backwards as her rescuer took up a protective stance in front of her. Her relief at the realisation that the shoulders now concealing her from view were Aeron's was short lived, quashed by an intense wave of fear and nausea at the danger she had unwittingly placed him in.

Samwell was starting to get on Aeron's nerves. He'd been badgering him all day to tell Y/N how he felt, Tully girl be damned. He'd then been insistent on meeting Y/N with him after they'd finished in the training yard, much to Aeron's chagrin. The two had become dangerously conspiratorial, often banding together to tease him, and Aeron was unhappy to have to share Y/N's attention. His mood soured further when Jon and Edmund (who he always thought resembled a peacock) had similarly decided to tag along. He found himself marching along the Red Ford to meet Y/N with his friends in tow.

Distant shouting caught his attention as they passed close to the border. What he saw directly ahead of him had him seeing red and breaking into a run before his friends could fully comprehend what had set him off. Before he'd fully come to a stop he used his momentum to forcibly shove the Blackwood brute he'd seen manhandle Y/N away from her. Pulling Y/N behind him he tried to push her gently backwards towards Samwell who'd been hot on his heels.

"You dare attack a lady?" Aeron seethed, hand clasping the hilt of his sword. The Blackwood Knight had stumbled back up to his feet, three more Blackwoods hovering just behind him. "The stupid girl trespassed on our lands!"

Aeron stepped forward threateningly, glaring at the craven bastard who dared to insult Y/N. "They're Bracken lands, and if you speak another word about my lady you'll regret it." Suddenly Aeron felt a smaller hand grab his, tugging him backwards. "Please Aeron, it does not matter."

Y/N's voice was barely above a whisper and tears streamed down her face. It was all Aeron could do not to fell the Blackwood responsible where he stood for causing her state of distress. He wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he did not trust to turn his back on the Blackwood Knights when she was still in danger.

Samwell stepped between Aeron and the Blackwood. "The lady meant no harm, let's set the matter to rest." His tone was placating but firm and, for the most part, the Blackwoods seemed to have tired of the whole affair, turning to walk away. Aeron turned to look at Y/N, lightly cupping her cheek and bending down to look into her eyes. "Are you well my love?" She looked quizzically up at him, slowly nodding but still visibly shaken, trembling slightly. Aeron took deep breathes, trying to root himself to the ground and will himself not to do something reckless.

He might have successfully calmed himself enough to walk away as Y/N had asked, had he not heard the Blackwood bastard mutter under his breath "Bracken whore." Aeron removed himself from Y/N in the next second, his sword drawn and pointing directly at the Blackwood's heart, the sound of metal echoing throughout the clearing as more swords were drawn. Samwell quickly grabbed Y/N's arm to lightly drag her further backwards. The Blackwood Knight looked almost surprised at the unbridled rage on Aeron's face.

"What's all this then?" The smug face of Benjicot Blackwood as he strolled calmly towards the scene, as infuriatingly confident as ever. "Brackens can't fucking keep within the boundary lines" one of the Blackwood Knights snarled. "Your Knights attacked a lady, Blackwood" Aeron snapped back. "She should not have come so close to the border then!"

The young lord of Raventree seemed to assess the truth of the situation in mere moments, his eyes darkening. "I am sorry for the lady's distress, I will not permit any of my Knights to attack a woman on my lands" the last part addressed to his fellow Blackwoods. Benjicot turned slowly back towards Aeron, his expression far more serious than Aeron had ever seen it in any of their past interactions. "I trust you will honour the boundary stones in future Bracken."

Aeron said nothing, just glowering back at the Blackwood boy as he watced him turn away, signalling with a wave of his arm for the Blackwood Knights to follow. Aeron watched them walk away for a few moments before turning back around, looking for Y/N only to lock onto her a few yards away hyperventilating, a panicking Samwell frantically trying to calm her down. Aeron sprinted over, pushing Samwell aside. "It's ok Sam, I've got her."

Lowering himself to her level he cupped her face, trying to get her to meet his eyes all the while trying to reassure her in hushed tones only she could hear. "Hey, hey it's all OK. You're safe, no one will harm you, I swear to you."

Still struggling for breath, Y/N gasped out "I thought he'd kill you. And it would be all my fault." Aeron felt his heart stop for a moment at Y/N's heartfelt concern for him but any satisfaction he would have felt from such a confession was diminished by Y/N's sharp intakes of breaths and tear-stained face, which pulled at his heart strings. His primary concern was to calm her down, starting with assuring her that he was ok. "None of what transpired is your fault." Grabbing her hand, he pressed it firmly to his chest. "Can you feel my heartbeat beneath your palm?" Y/N looked up at him, nodding slowly. "I am unharmed." He spoke slowly, looking into her eyes, trying to keep her focus on him. Y/N's breathing slowly began to even out as she continued to feel the steady beat of Aeron's heart and the comforting heat of his hand atop hers, holding it in place over his chest.

Aeron did not know how much time they passed in this manner. After a time Y/N slumped onto him, her head coming to rest in the crook of his neck in exhaustion as he supported most of her weight. Tentatively adjusting his hold on her, Aeron moved his hands up and down her back in what he hoped was a comforting motion.

"I could not bear it if they'd hurt you because you were defending me." Y/N's voice was muffled by the fabric of his tunic but he heard her easily.

Tilting his head down close to her ear, Aeron replied in a soft tone "I will always defend you."

Y/N loosened the tight grip she had on his tunic to look up at him with eyes still blurry from tears. "Why?"

"Because I love you." Aeron had envisioned many scenarios for how he would confess his love to Y/N. But in the end the words fell from his lips almost without his permission. He had been so concerned for Y/N's safety, so angered to see her harmed and in tears, so grateful for her concern for him in spite of her own safety, and so relieved to see her well that the words came naturally. "What?" Y/N's eyes had widened almost comically.

Aeron mustered all of the courage he possessed, taking a deep breath. "I said that I love you. I will always defend the woman I love." He shut his eyes briefly, lowering his head and waiting for her response.

"I Love you too, you silly boy."

His eyes snapped back up to meet her waiting smile.

"I think I have loved you ever since you coaxed me into jumping out of that tree."

He moved his hands to her waist, holding her in place and slowly moving his face closer to hers, noses lightly brushing against one another. "That is not exactly how I remember it, but I have loved you just as long."

Y/N laughed at that, bringing a hand back up to his tunic to pull him closer.

" May I kiss you?" Their close proximity had made Aeron braver than he'd normally be and the words left his mouth before he could rethink them. Y/N responded by gently pressing her lips to his own, pulling away shortly afterwards. Aeron found himself chasing her lips and pulling her back towards him by her waist as she brought her hands up to his shoulders to grant her more leverage as their lips moulded together once more. Their first kiss was not the sweeping embrace of legends, it was clumsy and inexperienced, noses bumping against each other and teeth knocking together. Aeron found he did not care, pouring all of the love he felt for Y/N into each brush of his lips against hers.

Feral pretty Bracken defending his lady.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #aeron bracken #benjicot blackwood #aeron bracken x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #aeron bracken imagine #aeron bracken oneshot

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actuallysaiyan · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 29: Daddy and Breeding(Am I good enough for you?)

warnings/kinks: smut, mentions of drinking, daddy kink, breeding, unprotected sex, oral sex(fem receiving) word count: 1.1k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader teaser: Kento smirks, “I always meant to start a family…with you.” taglist: @beneathstarryskies @loki-love @witchofcustom. @dreadsuitsamus. @pyrofanatic

Losing Nanami was the worst thought you could ever imagine. But when he told you that he was leaving the sorcerer's life to try and salvage what normalcy he could, you were absolutely crushed. He was the man you loved the most, and though you utterly respected him, you wondered if he was making a huge mistake with leaving you and everything else behind.

After a few years, you did as you could to find a routine and to lead your life without your lover. Your feelings were still hurt and you were very much tender, but being able to train the newest batch of sorcerers made you proud. You were a good teacher and you found happiness by showing them the ropes.

You just never expected to be able to love again. Kento was your one and only, and you often thought about him. You even tried to track him down a few times, but you had to convince yourself otherwise. It would only lead to heartbreak.

The only thing that changed everything was when he returned to this life and to you. You were busy helping Gojo train his team and you took a liking to young Yuji. But you weren’t expecting the love of your life to be training the same young sorcerer.

You swore your heart stopped when you saw Kento for the first time in years. He was even more beautiful than the last time. Behind his glasses, you saw just how tired he was. Yet his eyes seemed to twinkle when he saw you again.

“Didn’t think you were coming back,” you say to him, a soft smile on your face.

Kento smiles back, “Didn’t feel like I had much of a choice to come back. Satoru has been on my ass for so long about this.”

It doesn’t take long for the flame to be rekindled. Days upon days of spending time together gets you both reacquainted with one another. Kento is just as sweet and selfless as he’s always been. He’s falling in love with you even more now than he was back then. Now it’s different too. You’re both adults, both grown up…now is his chance to make a difference.

One night, he invites you over to his place. You happily accept, hoping to spend a little more alone time with your former lover. Once inside his apartment, you’re not at all surprised to find it so furnished in such a fancy way. He’s always been one to enjoy the classier things in life.

“I guess being a salaryman has been good to you,” you tease him softly.

He smirks as he passes you a glass of wine, “Yeah, it has. But it was difficult without someone to come home to.”

You two fall silent, unsure of where to take this conversation. He guides you to the couch and he begins putting on a record. It’s your favorite album. A soft smile spreads on your face. Kento sits next to you and you both begin to reminisce on the times before all of this.

“We were so young then…” Kento says, a smile on his face.

You laugh, “Yeah we were.”

You look into his eyes and all the things that made you so crazy for him come flooding back to you. You want to kiss him, but you’re so scared. You’re so worried he’ll reject you. Maybe he’s found a lover this time. You’d be left behind.

“There was always something I meant to do, but I never got a chance to.”

You cock an eyebrow, “What’s that?”

Kento smirks, “I always meant to start a family…with you.”

You barely have any time to consider his words before he’s kissing you with passion and love. His hands cup your face, pulling you closer. The two of you have so much left unsaid, but this kiss is all that’s needed to convey those emotions.

Kento is so quick to guide you into the bedroom, undressing you with haste. He needs to taste you and touch you and fuck you. He continues giving you those head-spinning and heart-stopping kisses. He picks you up, making you gasp at his strength.

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger,” you comment, your eyes glazed over with lust.

Kento laughs, “Oh there’s more to me that has changed since the last time you saw me.”

He throws you gently onto the bed, and quickly he crawls onto you. You pull him in for a fiery kiss, your tongues rolling together in such ecstasy. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him even closer.

Once Kento has you both undressed, you swear you’ve never felt so aroused in your life. He looks into your eyes before he begins kissing down your body. He grunts when he spreads your legs and gets an eyeful of your perfect little cunt. He’s been waiting much too long for this moment.

The moment his tongue presses against your folds, you know you’re done for. You’ll never be able to love again. He’s the only person you’ll want for the rest of your existence. Kento feels exactly the same way about you.

He laps at you like a starved man, his expertise for the sexual act very apparent with each move he does. It’s like he knows how to work your body, and you squirm and writhe beneath him in utter ecstasy. He’s good to bring you to your peak almost three times before you’re begging him to fuck you.

“Yeah? Does my pretty little baby need daddy to fill her up?”

Your heart skips a beat. You never knew him to be so filthy like this. You nod your head frantically, hoping you’re able to convey just how needy you are for him.

“No,” Kento says before kissing you. “Need to hear it, baby. Need to hear it from your pretty lips.”

You moan, “Daddy, please…fill me up.”

He spreads your thighs even wider, and he teases you with the head of his thick cock. You’ve most definitely never had a lover as large as Kento. He’s the perfect man for you. A soft gasp escapes your lips as he slowly pushes into you, making you both begin panting once he’s bottoming out.

“I love you so much,” Kento pants as he begins to fuck you. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

You hush him gently, “It’s okay. You’re here with me now, daddy.”

Kento pulls your thighs up to his chest, placing your ankles on his shoulders. In this position, he’s reaching so deep inside of you. Kento looks deeply into your eyes.

“Gonna breed you so good,” he grunts. “You’re not leaving this room until you are pregnant.”

#bacon.writes #Nanami x you #Nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #Nanami kento x reader #kento Nanami x you #kento Nanami x reader #Nanami smut #kento smut #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kinktober 2023

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lovebittenbyevans · 29 days ago

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A Love Rekindled | Part 2

Summary: It has been two and a half years since you and him have seen each other. As you and Oscar Piastri crossed paths with each other again – you both start to wonder if the love you both had for each other truly faded

Pairing: volleyballplayer/ex-boyfriend! Oscar Piastri x Female Reader

Warnings: one cursed word

Part 2

You were lying in your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think of him. This was your first time ever seeing him since the break up.

You didn’t know what to think but you noticed he still looked the same. You know in your head that you shouldn’t have gone with Maya but you had no choice unless she was going to annoy you the whole time about seeing him and his teammates.

You reached over to the circle table and took your phone when you heard a knock at the door. “Y/N! I know you are in there!” You sigh, already knowing who the voice is behind the door.

You got out of bed and headed directly to the door while checking your phone.

Lando: um hello!? You are here visiting and I didn’t get to see you! You forgot I existed 🙄😒

Oscar: Can we meet and talk today?

You roll your eyes at seeing both text messages from two different men. As you open the door, you respond to both of their text messages separately.

You: I’m sorry Lan. Pick a spot and we’ll hangout next time 😊

You: Um…Where? When?

“I see your phone is more important than me.” Maya scoffs playfully.

You look up from your phone to find Maya standing at the door. “Sorry, just getting a few text messages out of the way.”

“What time is your flight?” She walked inside and sat on the small couch.

You close the door shut as you feel your phone vibrate in your hand. “Soon.” You looked down at your phone again and saw his message instead of Lando.

Oscar: now would be fine and I’ll send you the address

You huffed and hurriedly straight to your suitcase finding something to wear. “I was hoping you would want to explore Chicago with me and Lewis before we go back home.” She says.

You pull out a green butterfly hoodie and a pair of black jeans. “Uh..No thanks.” You placed your clothes on the bed and glanced at her. “I don’t do a couple third wheels and you are always weird with Lew.”

Maya let out a gasp. “What? I don’t act weird.” She can’t believe you said that.

You laughed and walked right into the bathroom. “If you say so.” You quickly changed into your clothes before using the bathroom.

“Name one thing I did weird?” She raised her voice a little.

You wipe your hand and walk out of the bathroom closing the door shut. “You tried to impress him by eating a hot dog with everything on it and adding whip cream to it.” You wanted to vomit just thinking about it.

“Well yeah because he said he likes it when a girl–” She paused for a second. “Look, I just wanted him to like me.”

You shake your head while making sure you have your backpack slinging your shoulders. You put your shoes on before taking your phone off the couch. “Uh huh, look I’ll see you at home. I have somewhere to be before my flight.”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Where are you off to?”

Always so nosy

“No, No. Time to leave May.” You step out the door with her right behind you. “I’ll see you back home. Love you.” You gave her a hug and then walked out of the hotel.

You pulled up to the front of his hotel after sending him a text message. You sat in your car having Mirrors by Justin Timberlake blast through your car radio.

I’m lookin’ right at the other half of me

The vacancy that sat in my heart

Is a space that now you hold

You suck your teeth and skip to the next song playing Lose Control by Teddy swims. As you listen to the lyrics the car door opens. “I forgot how cold Canada is.” He closes the passenger door letting out a breath.

“Where do you want to go, Oscar?” You asked, pressing the start button on your car.

He puts on his seatbelt and tells you. “Just drive around.”

You nod, press the gas pedal, and drive down the street. You lower the radio down a bit as he begins to talk. “So, what is going on?” That is not how you wanted to start the conversation with him but you could not think properly at this moment.

He leaned back against the passenger seat and began to speak. “All I want to know is why? I thought we both were doing good together.”

You stopped at the red light while your hand was still on the steering wheel. “We live different lives O. We both know I couldn’t be your girlfriend forever.” You began to drive again after the light turned green.

“What? Y/N, we are different but I thought we saw a future with each other. Yes, our lives are different but you told me you were willing to make it work.” His eyes were on you.

You shrug. “I am allowed to change my mind, Oscar.”

He shakes his head as he glances out the window. “Do you even care how hurt I was?” You pulled your car over to the curb and parked it. “Excuse me? Of course I cared.”

Oscar turns his head to look at you. “Then you shouldn’t have given up on us.”

You let out a chuckle. “Oh no. I didn’t give up. I told you we live different lives and it was never going to work. You follow your dream just like you wanted and look at you now, huh? A famous volleyball player.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, but I wanted you to still be a part of it.” He never wanted you to leave him. He wanted you to stay with him. He didn’t care about the fame coming along with his dreams.

You shake your head. “We can’t always get what we wish for.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but then closes it when he hears his phone vibrate in his jeans pocket. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket to see who had texted him.

“Uh, drop me off at the diner. My team and coach Andrea are already there.” Oscar does not have the energy to argue back and forth.

You started your car again, put it in drive and then drove off down the street. You had no words to say to him at all.

“Would you ever give us a chance again?” He had to ask you. He needed to know.

You sigh and continue driving your car. “We are not in the past anymore.” You pulled up in front of the diner and stopped your car. “I don’t see a future for us right now.”

You kept your hand on the steering wheel and gazed straight ahead. You couldn't force yourself to look at him. Your heart was beating a little fast after what you said to him.

Fuck, calm down

“Y/N.” His gaze was fixated on you.

You clear your throat. “Go ahead, you will be late.”

He sighs, taking off his seatbelt and opens the passenger door. “Still lying years later. I’ll get a ride back from one of the guys.” He got out of your car, closing the door shut.

You close your eyes while letting yourself breathe. You open your eyes while turning your car on again. You drive off not realizing a tear trickled down your cheek.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x y/n

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heli-writes · 8 months ago

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Between then and now, Part 2.

Part 2: The known in the unknown

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Summary: When a whirlwind affair between you and All Might was found out by his manager, it was made sure that no one ever knew about you or your relationship with All Might. Even twenty years later, Toshinori Yagi still thinks of you. His retirement leaves him lonely in a cold city apartment and he wonders what could’ve been. Maybe it’s time to rekindle? But is that what you want?

Disclaimers: -

Note: I finally found some time to work on this!

Heli’s Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The present day, Japan.

It feels weird walking the streets of your hometown again. It's been so long since you've been here. The city changed a lot since you've been wandering around these streets with your friends. While everything seems familiar, most things also feel unknown.

You wander the streets that once were so familiar to you. The TV store where you used to watch the latest hero news after school with your friends has been replaced with a multimedia store. The kiosk, where you and your brother bought sour candy and picture cards hoping to pull a Gran Torino or a Crimson Riot, is also long gone. However, there are some places that are still the same. There's still the library where you and your girls studied hard for your entrance exams to get into university. It's also where you had your first kiss, just behind the business administration section.

Of course, the old university building is still the same. You can't remember how many tears of stress you've shed here and of course tears of joy on your graduation day. That's also where you've met All Might for the first time. He was invited as a guest of honor and had to give a speech to all the graduates. Similar to you who had to give a speech since you graduated summa cum laude. You remember of nervous you were that day.

*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty-two years ago, Japan.

Dear comrades-in-arms, teachers and parents, Today we celebrate the success of a new generation and the bright future... the bright future...

You keep mumbling to yourself going through your cards over and over again. You're sitting behind the stage you have to go on in a few minutes. You groan frustratedly. No matter how well you know the speech you've written, there is no way you will deliver it successfully. First of all, you're not a motivational speaker and second of all, you are way too nervous.

„My, my, someone's nervous!“, a booming voice says right behind you and you jump up in your seat.

When you turn around, you're met with the largest man you've ever seen. Of course, you know who he is. All might, an upcoming hero. He made quite the name for himself, especially during his time in America. The girls in your semester fawn over his good looks. Upon closer inspection, you think he looks quite silly. You mean that grin will haunt you in your nightmares. And what...

„What's up with your hair?“, you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

All Might's creepy smile disappears for a second and he looks stunned but as quickly as it disappears, as quickly it returns. It seriously gives you IT-clown vibes.

„Whatever do you mean? Do you not like my hair, dear citizen?“, he asks you in his perfect-practiced hero voice. You think he sounds fake.

„Uhm, no, I don't.“, you tell him. Again, you don't really think when you answer him.

Now, All Might is taken aback.

„Oh, really? I-i mean you don't find it flashy?“, he says in his normal voice. You're surprised at how timid and soft-spoken he sounds.

„No.“, you tell him with a pointed look.

„Oh, well, alright. That's a first.“, he mumbles.

You turn fully towards him. You look up at him crossing your arms.

„Really? No one told you before that it looks like the antennae of an insect? You know, like a cockroach?“, you explain bluntly.

All Might stares at you stunned for a few seconds before starting to laugh. It's not his booming hero laugh, but an honest one. You think it suits him better than the laugh you've heard on TV.

„You sure are an honest one.“, he tells you wiping the side of his eye.

You shrug. „Should I be dishonest instead? Sounds like a villain's trait.“, you point out. All Might gives you that pretty laugh again.

„I suppose that's true.“, he agrees with you.

There's a moment of silence. Suddenly, the speaker on stage announces you and your speech. Surprisingly, you don't feel nervous anymore. It's probably because you don't have to go on stage with a cockroach hairstyle. Your hair is perfectly styled by the hairstylist your father paid for.

„Break a leg.“, All Might encourages you and gives you two thumbs-up. You give him a smile before going on stage and delivering your speech.

Your speech went well that day. Your parents were proud of you and your mother even cried a little. After the formal celebration and dinner with your family, you celebrate with your friends. Needless to say, all of you are absolutely plastered by the end of the night.

That might be the reason you don't remember much about All Might's speech. Something about being a hero in your own story or so.

What you do remember is the way he laughs when he finds something truly funny.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

You smile fondly at the memory. You've been so deep in thought that you didn't notice how far your legs have taken you. You shake your head trying to push the thoughts out of your head and to gain a sense of reality. Right, food!, you tell yourself.

It's been so long since you've been here last, you don't really know where a supermarket is. A quick Google search later, you're finally on your way with a fixed destiny. Luckily, the city's big and so there are plenty of stores to choose from.

You end up getting more things than you initially planned. Having to get all the essentials from salt to butter, your bags are stuffed full. You drag them with you, trying to find the fastest way home. Unfortunately for you, the streets you once knew like the back of your hand faded in your memory. While you were confident that you'd find your way back home without Google Maps, you're not so sure anymore. Actually, you're lost.

Since the bags are getting heavy on your shoulders, you decide to find a bench to sit down for a moment. Maybe also check the map to see where you should actually be heading. Eventually, you find a map and plop down with a heavy groan. Your back isn't what it used to be. You're still denying it but you can't help but notice little things about your body that changed. Your back is one thing.

Once you've caught your breath, you realize what's in front of you. You ended up in a little square and in the middle of the square, there is a giant golden All Might statue. You almost burst out laughing. I forgot they have these in Japan. They really do worship him, you think to yourself. It's really comical to you. How the people of Japan look up to him like he's a god that became human. It's probably you know that he is in fact very human.

In contrast to everybody else, you know what his hair looked like in the morning. You know how the skin on top of hot milk makes him gag. How he laughs at his own burps. How his face looks like when he's intimate with someone. You know how he cries.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty years ago, Japan.

„Y-y/n... I don't know what to say.“

You stare past his face. You look at the rising sun behind the skyline that can be seen from Tashinor's apartment. You can't look at him. Tears are already about to spill out of your eyes. You know there's no stopping if you look at him now.

You feel his large hand brushing your arm. „Say something.“, he begs. You can hear his own tears in his voice.

You feel the water in your eyes overflowing. Quickly you turn around so that he doesn't see. „What do you want me to say? We've argued all night. I think everything has been said.“, you point out.

There's silence behind you. You can hear him sigh. Now he's probably brushing his hand over his face. He always does this when he's stressed or upset.

„I love you.“, he says quietly. You let out a choked laugh.

„Not enough, apparently.“, you tell him. It drips in a harsh bitterness that's rarely in your mouth.

„Don't be like that.“, Toshinoris says pointedly. He almost sounds annoyed. It makes you angry. You twirl around.

„Like what? Hurt?“, you say sharply. You don't mean to attack him. You don't mean to start arguing again. You've been at it all night. Both of you know that there is no room for conversation anymore. However, no one is ready to let it rest. Because you probably know that the decision's made and if you go now, nothing will ever be the same anymore. To keep arguing right now is to keep holding on for a little while longer.

„I don't want to hurt you.“, he says quietly. You sigh. You look at him defeatedly.

„I know.“, you whisper back at him. He takes a step closer to you and engulfs you in a big hug.

„I know no words I can say can make it better. You're right. I hurt you. I choose my career over you. I know it's unfair and cruel of me but you also need to understand that my hands are tied. I can't back out now. I've come too far and too many people rely on me.“, he tells you.

You press your face into his chest. You don't want to hear this. You know this. There is no need to repeat it again.

„Hey, look at me.“, Toshinori says and puts his index finger under your chin making you raise your head. You look at him with teary eyes. His heart aches to see you like this.

The two of you have been sneaking around for almost a year now. Given the nature of his job, he's never been one for serious, long-term relationships. This is the longest he's ever been with someone before. His mind is made up but it doesn't mean he's happy about it.

He loves you, he really does. It's like he didn't realize just how much he loves you until he was about to end it. Kanno's been putting pressure on him ever since finding out and after you've been almost caught by paparazzi last week, he knows it's time.

Gently, he brushes his hand through your hair. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss onto your forehead. You feel yourself melt against him. It's like you can't stay angry at him. He pushes his hand deeper into your hair, scratching the skin lightly. Meanwhile, he pushes your chin further up and meets your lips in a soaring kiss.

You kiss each other hungrily. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Toshinori's neck. Toshinori's hand wanders down to your hip and pulls it against his own. You almost groan into the kiss.

You need to stop. This won't be good for either of you. You try pushing him away but he's bigger and stronger than you and his lips are so, so soft on yours. It won't take long until you give in to him. You always do.

It's probably why you also gave into continuing to work for him in America. That and the prospect of someday. That someday you can transfer back to Japan. That someday, when the buzz around him slows down and he can come back to you.

It's just that that day never came.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

Your eyes still get glossy when you think about that night. Embarrassed, you wipe ferociously at your eyes. How silly, you haven't seen that man in twenty years. You don't even know what kind of person he is today.

Of course, you've seen the fight at Kamino Ward. Actually, because of the time difference you didn't see it live. You saw the news after you had woken up and then spent the next hour in front of your screen. You were late for work that morning.

It was heartbreaking to watch. You remember being shocked to see him like that on your phone in the dusk light of your bedroom. It was what everybody talked about at the office that day. Everybody was shocked. People were worried about the security and stability of Japan. Meanwhile, you were worried about the man you once loved.

You assumed Toshinori eventually would have to retire. Eventually, everyone gets old. You're surprised that he held onto his job for as long as he did. He did have some brutal fights during his career, they must've left some permanent damage.

You take a deep sigh. It's ridiculous how nostalgic this city makes you feel. It's been only one morning, you keep drifting off indulging in reminiscences. Suddenly, your stomach rumbles. Right, of course, that's why you went out in the first place. Also, you probably should get your groceries into a fridge soon.

Quickly, you look at your phone figuring out your route back home. You see Takeo sent you a message with a picture but you decide to open it once you're home. You just hope he didn't manage to burn down his dorm already.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Japan, the same day.

After a longer way home than anticipated, you finally make it back. After a hearty meal, you finally check your son's message. It's a picture of him and his new roommate setting up a picnic on campus. You're sure they keep the alcohol bottles out of sight. You have to laugh and roll your eyes. You remember how it was for you to move into your first apartment. Unlike your son, you moved out of your parents' home only after you graduated from uni. You've missed out on a lot of things because of that. You've never had a roommate and your parents rarely let you go out to party.

You send your son a selfie of yourself in the middle of cardboxes to which he only responds 'Get to work, mom! ;)'. You sigh deeply and lock your phone. He's right, you need to tackle these boxes. Your new job starts on Monday and by then you'd like to be settled into your new home.

You start with the kitchen boxes first. In your head, they're the easiest to unpack. The layout of the kitchen kind of already tells you what goes where. You already dread the junk boxes in which all kinds of stuff are that have no real place. Considering your limited furniture, those will be the hardest to tidy up.

You try to get around these boxes by unpacking the bedroom and bathroom boxes next. You take your time with your clothes. You've already sorted through your clothes before you got here and you got rid of a great amount of them. You gave some old clothes you don't wear anymore to the charity shop. However, there are some clothes you can't get rid of. Like the T-shirt you gave birth into. Or that old blazer you wore to your interview at All Might's hero agency.

You can't help but to try on these random clothes. Before you know it you're standing in sweatpants, Takeo's birth T-shirt and the old blazer in front of your mirror. You almost laugh at how ridiculous that combination looks on you. Carefully, you stroke over the black fabric of your blazer thinking back to your interview that changed the course of your life.

~*~*~*~ *~*

Twenty-two years ago, Japan.

„So, Miss l/n, what would you say is your biggest weakness?“

Nervously, you shift in your seat. You really don't know how you ended up in this seat. Looking back at it, it was probably an act of rebellion. After your graduation, your father secured a job for you at his company. He didn't even bother to ask you whether or not you wanted to work for him. It made you mad. You tried to talk to him but he always just brushed you off.

Since he never gave you a real job offer and you never really accepted a job at his company or signed a contract, you took matters into your own hands. You applied to many different companies. Having a business administration degree, it was open to you in what kind of area and what kind of company you wanted to work for. You don't really know what you want to do with your life. So far, your life has been presented to you. Everything was planned and followed through. It's the first time in your life, you're deciding where things are going.

That being said, you applied to All Might's hero agency just because you could. You didn't really expect to hear back from them. Hundreds of well-educated people from Japan and abroad must've applied for this position. Then again, it was only an interview. One you didn't really prepare for since you did not take this application that seriously anyway.

„Miss l/n?“, the interviewer in front of you asks again.

You're ripped out of your thoughts.

„E-excuse me, I've been thinking about an appropriate answer.“, you tell them. You take a deep breath.

„In all honesty, I probably have a lot of weaknesses. I'm a perfectionist. I can't drop a project until it's not only done but done perfectly. That can be time-consuming and sometimes I get lost in details. I'm also a people pleaser. I don't like having conflict with others so I always try to avoid it or try to mediate if I get involved in it against my will.“, you tell the three interviewers in front of you.

The interviewers quickly scribble something in their notes. You're trying not to stare at their papers. You really want to know what they're writing down about you.

„Would you say that, despite these weaknesses, you're still able to stand your ground and make your opinion heard?“, the other interviewer asks.

„Well, it sure doesn't come naturally to me. However, I grew up in a family of businessmen. You learn from an early age to stay your ground.“, you tell them.

The third interviewer goes through your application portfolio.

„Right... you wrote that your father works in finances. I actually do recognize your name...“, the interviewer trails off. The other two take a look at your portfolio as well and exchange knowing looks.

You shift in your seat. You hoped this wouldn't come up. You wanted to get your first job due to your own skills and the impressions you leave behind. Not because of your family.

Luckily the interviewers don't dwell on this for long and continue with their standardized interview questions. You're glad when they're finally done. When they let you go and call in another candidate, the others, that are still waiting for their interview, start bombarding you with questions.

„How was it?“, „What kind of questions did they ask?“, „Is All Might there too?“

Your head is still swirling from the interview, so you give them some half-assed answers. Quickly you stumble towards the elevator and press the button energetically. The moment the doors open, you quickly scramble inside. You start going through your back trying to find your deodorant. You've sweat so much, other people must smell you from five meters away.

„Exciting day today?“, a voice says behind you.

Oh no. No. No. You must be kidding me!, you think to yourself. You turn around in slow motion and there he is. Standing in front of you in full size. He's a lot bigger than you remember.

„A-all Might...“, you stutter.

„Oh... wait! I never forget a face. We met before, didn't we?“, he says cheerily.

You feel cold sweat drip down your neck. Oh hell no, your potential new boss can't possibly remember the last time you saw him. You feel absolutely mortified. Meanwhile, All Might crooks his head and stares at you intensely.

„Oh, you must be mista-...“, you start but get interrupted by the much larger hero. He snaps his fingers and his eyes light up in recognition.

„Now, I know! You're the one who called me a cockroach!“, he says triumphantly. He grins and seems to be very pleased by the fact that he remembers you.

At the same time, you're face falls. Your mouth hangs open. Apparently, this is happening.

„I did not!!“, you exclaim before you can find a polite way to tell him he must confuse you with someone.

All Might snaps his fingers again and gives you another grin.

„So, it is you!“, he booms. You feel your face heat up.

„Sir, with all due respect, I did not call you a cockroach!“, you defend yourself. You really didn't.

„Oh, right, just my hair.“, he contemplates.

You're not sure what to say at that. He's right. You did say that. But to be fair it was during a very vulnerable moment. Your face must look like a tomato by now.

„I'm very sorry if that offended you. I didn't mean it in a demeaning way.“, you try to save your neck.

„So cockroaches are a good thing?“, he teases you. You think about that for a moment.

„W-well, they sure are a success of evolution. I mean nothing can kill these guys. So, in a way, they are like you...“, you trail off.

All Might gawks at you and you realize what you just said. Now you actually compared him to a cockroach.

„Y-you know, because no villain can defeat you...“, you add a bit more quiet. You look at your shoes embarrassedly. I guess there goes any chance of getting that job, you think.

Then, All Might lets out that gorgeous laugh again that you remember. And he can't seem to stop laughing. Embarrassed, you stand next to him. You're even more embarrassed when the elevator door opens again and one of the interviewers is standing in front of you.

You shrink under the man's gaze while All Might tries to catch his breath.

„All Might, has this woman been bothering you? I can assure you, we can exclude her from the ongoing applicant selection.“, the man says cooly.

All Might wipes the side of his face and turns to you. „You applied for the assistant position?“, he asks you. You can only nod at that. He turns back to the interviewer.

„Hire her, Kanno-san!“

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan.

Eventually, you put your clothes away and start tackling those junk boxes that you've been avoiding all day. You manage to find a place for most things. Also, you christen your new junk drawer by shoving all things you don't find a new place for in said drawer.

Most of the boxes are empty now. You fold them and put them into the hallway so you can take them out tomorrow. The only boxes left now are the boxes filled with pictures. Carefully, you open the box. There are some picture frames you still need to hang on the wall. There's Takeo on his first day of kindergarten. There's you and Takeo under a Christmas tree in your house in America. And there's Takeo and you just a few months ago when he graduated high school.

Takeo graduated at the age of nineteen. He's been held back a year because his English was too bad. At least that's what his teachers told you. Of course, you spoke Japanese with him at home but you don't think that was the reason he was held back. The truth is that Takeo was a sensitive child. It didn't help that he was born without a quirk. It was an invitation to others to pick on him.

You remember that he cried a lot during his first year in school. Other children's quirks manifested already in kindergarten. During the first year of primary school, he still held onto hope that his quirk would present eventually. Still, he already got dubbed quirkless. He also was the only Asian kid in class. And the only kid with a single working mother. You got lucky and found a job quite fast after quitting All Might's agency. However, it required you to move to a suburban area. A lot of the other mothers lead a more traditional life with being married and having multiple kids. Also, most of them were white. So, similar to your son, you didn't make many friends.

People respected you since you had a job at a well-respected hero agency. You also tried to get involved in the local community. But it was hard to bond with the other women over mac and cheese and the Superbowl barbeque when you don't really care for American football or food that you never ate before coming to the USA.

It was hard on your son too. He tried to fit in. Tried to play with the other kids. However, he couldn't keep up with them when they had quirk competition or went to the park throwing baseballs with their dads.

It probably was during that first year of primary school when Takeo asked for the first time where his dad was because „I must have one“, as he put it. Of course, you knew this question would eventually come. However, you still weren't prepared. You gave him a speech on how sometimes things don't work out the way you want them to and that you're still very happy to be his mom.

Back then, that was enough. The conversation came up a couple of times later. Especially during his early teen years, these talks became more heated. Partly that was your fault because you gave only very vague answers about your son's origin. However, as he grew up, he must've accepted it or understood that his father's absence was not your choice.

After you've put up the picture frames, you send Takeo another picture of your now neat apartment. In response, he sends a picture of his dorm room which already looks like a mess. You roll your eyes before putting your phone away again.

Only then you notice how the sun already started to set. You sigh before getting up and cook yourself some dinner.

~*~*~*~ *~*

The present day, Japan, the other side of Musutafu.

Instant Ramen, once again.

Toshinori pours the hot water into the plastic pot. He really shouldn't eat this stuff anymore. Ever since his stomach injury, he has trouble digesting processed food. He can't help it though. He never learned how to cook healthy food for himself. And these days he's too tired to make anything else than something quick and easy. Toshinori sets a five-minute-timer before plopping down on his couch.

Staring at the ceiling, he massages his temples. It still feels unreal to him how quickly his body deteriorated. Only a couple of years ago, he handled a full schedule with no problems. Now, a mere day at school wears him down like this. He stares at the ceiling until the timer goes off.

He eats his ramen cup in front of the TV show. There aren't any shows that really interest him so he keeps skipping channels. After his dinner, he grades a few more papers and then goes to bed. Before the light's off, he scrolls through his phone a bit. With his private account, he follows young Midoriya. He likes a post of him and his classmates having a movie night in the dorms. He thinks back to his own school days. He remembers already being so focused on his hero career in High School that he only had a few friends during his time at school. The only time he truly enjoyed his youth was during his time in America. David introduced him to college life and made sure that Toshinori visited his fair share of frat parties.

Sometimes he wonders what it would've been like if he met you back then. When he wasn't already an established figure in the hero society. When he was just Toshinori most of the time. He could've gotten to know you as himself. It's not that you never got to know the real Toshinori. You did. Sometimes he thinks that you're the only one who got to know the real him after Shimura-sensei.

He closes social media and puts his phone on his nightstand. He turns on his uninjured side to sleep but he feels restless. After a couple of minutes, he gives up. It's something you always used to scold him for. „You're too impatient, Toshi. You need to give your body and mind to calm down a bit after a long day.“, you probably would say.

Toshinori gets up and walks over to his balcony. He pushes the sliding door open and takes in a breath of fresh night air. He steps outside barefoot. That's another thing y/n would scold me for, he thinks. He walks over to the railing. A soft breeze lifts up his shirt and he peers down the balcony into the dark void beneath. Only a few streetlights illuminate the empty street below. He leans back again and watches the skyline in front of him.

He remembers all the nights he couldn't sleep before. After a long villain fight when the adrenaline in his veins kept him from sleeping. Or after a big media event when his brain overflowed with impressions and thoughts and he just couldn't find any rest. There were nights that were easier to handle and those that were not. The easier ones usually were connected to you.

Part of him wished you were here right now. Joining him on the balcony only a few minutes after he slid out of bed. Wrapping your delicate arms around him from the back. Leaning your face against his back, softly whispering: „What's on your mind, Toshi?“.

He runs a hand through his hair. What is on his mind? He's not sure. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today. And yet, he feels so restless. Maybe it's because he's not used to this. This... calmness. All his life, there always was something. Even when there was nothing, he was on call just waiting for something to happen. And it always did. Now there really is nothing. No emergencies, no villains to fight, no nothing. Well, actually, that was all still happening but it's not like he could do anything about it. Not in his quirkless state. Which sucks even more. Seeing all the fights and emergencies on TV and not being able to do anything about it.

Toshinori shivers. It's getting cold outside and he's only wearing a thin pyjama. He takes a last look at the illuminated city before slipping back inside. Pulling on the curtains, he blends out the city and its villains, heroes and all emergencies that are not his responsibility anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @heilene @w3bfr34k @bucinyohei @imagineshazamlokimight @dovey-quacks2332 @l-bozo-l @puppyteeth1994 @genyawritesshizz @luubzz @plantedskies @nerdygothzippermuffin @pluechy @

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

#mha #mha toshinori #yagi toshinori #all might #all might imagine #all might x reader #all might x you #all might x y/n #toshinori yagi x reader #bnha toshinori #toshinori yagi imagine #toshinori yagi x y/n #bnha #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia

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apas-75 · 8 months ago

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I know a lot of people got attached to a lot of ideas about how the Vader scene would go and are wondering what the point of it was if he didn’t even speak, and so my answer to that is: because it’s not about him.

That moment is not about Anakin Skywalker, his feelings about Barriss Offee, or Barriss Offee’s feelings about him. Anakin-as-Vader does not give a shit about her, which is to say he hates her the same way he hates everyone he meets. He puts the blame for Ahsoka leaving him squarely at Ahsoka’s feet, and hates her for it, wants her dead for it. Barriss doesn’t matter to him any more than any other Jedi he knew before the purge does. (If there’s any tinge of personal feeling, it’s more adjacent to satisfaction at seeing her stuck in the same despair trap as him than anything else.) And Barriss doesn’t have a clue who he is.

So: The point of that moment is that Barriss sees that she’s kneeling to a Sith Lord. She sees that things are so much worse than she had ever feared. She sees that she’s completely lost control of her life.

And in that moment, she cannot see the way out. She feels small and afraid and everyone she loves is dead and the entire oppressive structure of the Empire is bearing down on her and saying: If you want to live, this is what you have to be. This is all you can ever be. If you step a foot out of line you’ll be dead and it won’t even do anything to help anyone.

Later, when she gets back out in the galaxy and sees again the effect she can have on people, she’ll rekindle hope within her and see the way out. There was simply NO universe where Barriss “friend to all children” Offee could ever have been an Inquisitor past the moment where she actually had to fulfill the duties of one, and the whole point of this failed attempt to force her into the Inquisitorius was to show that was true; whether she ended that first mission dead or as another rogue Jedi on the run, she never would have been what the Grand Inquisitor wanted her to be.

But right then? Now? Kneeling to Vader, knowing that she’d be dead before she could even draw the new red lightsaber on her back—the one that she hates and that hates her back because she was forced to profane it herself?* When the Grand Inquisitor has kept her isolated and provoked her over and over again so that when she finally lashes out to defend herself he can tell her that’s who she really is? There’s nothing she can do. There’s nothing she can do.

That’s her lowest point. That’s the only moment she ever really was the First Sister.

(*Kyber crystal bleeding is the kind of thing that only really hits if you're a huge turbonerd about the star war lore and know how it works, so I get why they skipped over it onscreen when it's really just a more abstract metaphor for what she was forced to do in the pit fight, but given that we know Iskat and Reva both made theirs themselves there's no way they didn't make Barriss do it too.)

#tales of the empire #barriss offee #star wars #tales of the empire spoilers #tote spoilers #thank god this wasn't week to week bc the week between devoted and realization would have been THE WORST #also yes I'm putting footnotes under a readmore god I am so fucking pretentious

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loveanddeepspice · 2 months ago

Text

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis: you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating: 18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw: religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter: 5 / ?

✞ co-authors: redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link: here

✞ chapter synopsis: a series of risky decisions gets you into more than one kind of trouble.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

The next few days were spent in the confines of your childhood home, your bed almost becoming your permanent address as you thought about that kiss. The kindness and how the words expressed resonated with you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. But more than anything, how the kissing Father Sylus had made you feel - the tenderness of it all. But surely you were getting ahead of yourself and even found yourself a little disgusted with yourself over the whole encounter.

But he had just been so close, too sweet, and his face was so beautiful, and all you wanted to do was press kisses all over him.

But it’s wrong, isn’t it?

Something inside you rebelled against the idea for obvious reasons. Any resolve you had would disintegrate when you decided to act or speak on it.

But then, one evening, Rafayel called. You barely answered in time because part of you was hoping it would be someone else.

“Hey babe, just wanted to check up and see how you’re doing. Haven’t heard from you.”

You blinked, frozen for a moment as you twisted into a sitting position on your bed. “Fine. What’s up?”

He chuckled, and you weren’t sure if he was annoyed. You felt slightly upset at yourself for not reaching out when you could have. A normal rekindled friendship typically involves a friend being there for the other, especially after what he revealed to you. But before you could follow up with an apology, he spoke again.

“Nothing in particular. I wondered if you wanted to get some of the old gang together and go up into the woods like we used to.”

You knew the place he was walking about, the old lumber yard out in the middle of the woods where the kids from town used to gather. It had been a favorite spot to hang out, build bonfires, other illegal shit teenagers liked to do when they wanted to get away from their parents.

“What do you mean ‘the gang?’” You asked.

“Well, uh, it’s just gonna be you and me. When I tried to call anyone else from school, they either laughed at me for being back here or didn’t answer.” You could hear his nervous laugh when his words cut off. “Still a small town, and everyone is the same.”

You couldn’t resist, though. Even if you were a bit too old for that behavior. Reliving your past was one of the reasons you returned home in the first place. “I have nothing better to do, so yeah. Sounds great.” You paused, wondering if you had said the right thing, hoping that Rafayel understood what you meant. “Sorry, I’ve been…not myself lately. Lot’s on my mind.” You rubbed the back of your knee with your fingers before standing, keeping the phone to your ear as you crossed the room to where your suitcase lay open on a chair.

“I get it.” He responded with a laugh, light and airy in a way that made you smile. “Life is pretty shitty, especially for people like us who - well, you know.” There was a hint of apology in his tone as you heard him open and close a door. “This is the perfect opportunity for me to listen to you now.”

“I kissed the priest.”

“Fucking, what? The hot one?”

You sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward a bit, a bit shaken now with your admission. Even though you had spoken it out loud, you still felt as if you couldn’t totally come to grips with the situation.

“Well, yeah. He’s the only one.” You said, curling your hand around the hem of the comforter. “And I’m also in love with a married man. I’m losing it. This is what happens to people who don’t peak in high school or something!”

Rafayel said nothing, obviously processing. Then he began to chuckle, which turned into a laugh. Then, he let out the most ridiculous roar of laughter.

“Wow,” he managed to gasp out after a bit, only to laugh again. You could imagine how his shoulders probably shuddered as they shook and the grin plastered on his face. “Okay, once Talia goes to bed, I’ll grab her car and pick you up. And then you’re explaining this whole damn story to me. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I can’t even comprehend this,” Rafayel breathed after you recounted your tale of how you ended up back home, finishing off with the way Father Sylus had kissed you and the way your panic overtook you. He shook his head, hands clenching and unclenching, brow knitted as he looked at you.

The two of you sat in Talia's car, parked outside the old lumber yard in the woods. The empty dirt parking lot was bathed in the moon's light peeking through the clouds. The bowl on the dash between you both served as a reminder that some things hadn’t changed and that this was the first place you had smoked weed.

Rafayel picked it up, fingers curling around the glass as he brought it to his lips. The flick of the lighter illuminated his face in the dark car, shadows dancing across his cheekbones as he inhaled deeply. You couldn’t blame him for his reaction.

When he passed it to you, you mirrored his actions, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the earthy taste coating your tongue. You held it in briefly before exhaling slowly, leaning back into the passenger seat.

“And Xavier asked me out.” You said.

Your friend’s face contorted in disbelief before he let out a short burst of laughter. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope.” You giggled and looked out towards the old building before you, wondering how he could think you were making any of this up.

“Damn, you have three guys chasing after you, begging for scraps. I bet the doctor has loads of money.” Rafayel clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “This is every girl’s dream! I don’t understand what the problem is.”

And as if it suddenly hit him all at once, he started to laugh, and the laugh turned out to be contagious. You both soon ended up in a fit of giggles inside the growing colder car.

“I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ask him to leave his wife?” You huffed.

“Relax! Think about it. People get divorced all the time.” The high was definitely setting in as Rafayel rested his head on the back of the seat. “And if he’s as hopelessly infatuated with you as you said, he might do it anyway.”

“Rafayel! That’s horrible.”

He leaned in and playfully nudged your shoulder, saying, “I can’t help but be honest with you. Who would I be if I wasn’t?” He caught the look on your face and rolled his eyes, flicking the lighter absentmindedly. “Or, you know, you could just call him up and give him a piece of your mind. Maybe that will push him right in the direction of Silver Springs.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, feeling the familiar laziness creeping into your body. You barely resisted the urge to snort at his suggestion. “The Fleetwood Mac song?”

“Yeah, Stevie cursed him, you know. Lindsey. In ‘97. Hexed him right on stage in front of everyone. So if I were you, I would call him up and tell him what direction he can shove his thumb up his own ass.”

You laughed again, shaking your head at Rafayel’s ridiculous suggestion. The pot was doing its job, making everything seem way funnier than it should be.

“I don’t know, man,” you sighed, sinking further into the seat. “Even if Zayne does leave his wife for me, which would be so wrong, what about Father Sylus? I mean, I kissed a priest, for Christ’s sake!”

Rafayel took another long drag from the bowl before setting it between you in the cupholder, smoke once again billowing in the car as he responded. “Hey, forbidden love is the hottest kind. And I figure if I’m going to get any entertainment out of this town, it’s gonna be from you at this point. So just call the fucking doctor while I’m still high.” With that, he shoved your shoulder, and you turned and shoved him right back.

You grumbled as you reached for your phone, unlocking it as the smoke settled around you. You scrolled through your contacts until your thumb was right over the number. It was so tempting, especially with the encouragement of the young man beside you - but you stayed still.

You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.

“Fuck it.” You breathed deeply, heart hammering, and hit the phone symbol. As soon as you heard the first ring, you nearly jumped.

Why do I do this? A mantra in your mind, like a worm in your skull, beating against the insides repeatedly with a tiny hammer.

You waited, putting the phone on speaker so the idiot beside you could hear. After a few long rings, you were about to hang up when there was a click. An unfamiliar voice picked up instead of the one you were used to, and the wave of anxiety almost made you dizzy.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, not as straightforward or bubbly as you had imagined she would sound.

Silent, you swallowed thickly, and along with the fear, you felt the ache settle in once again. The sharp guilt began coiling around you. You looked toward Rafayel, who suddenly looked just as panicked as you. He quickly grabbed your phone, raising an index finger to his lips and giving you a stern look.

“Hi! Uh, I’m calling about your car's extended warranty!” Rafayel quickly stated, cutting off whatever the woman was about to say next. Then, he turned and threw your phone out of the open window.

The two of you stared at each other blankly. Then, all the adrenaline hit you at once, and the numb haze obliterated.

“Oh my God, fuck!” You managed to say, trying and failing to fight the delirious laughter that began wrapping through your body. You barely noticed your vision clouded with tears, and your next laugh came out mixed with a sob. “That was his - and you just - HA! You threw my phone out the window!”

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t think that was a good -”

“FUCK.” You kicked the dashboard with your foot, the glove compartment popping open and spilling its contents onto the car's floor. “How could you throw my phone out the window like that?” you cried, turning to glare at Rafayel through your tears.

He held up his hands defensively. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret later. That was his wife on the phone, not him! What were you going to say to her anyway?”

“I don’t know!” you wailed, burying your face in your hands. The high rapidly dissipated, ruined, and replaced by a growing despair. “I’m a horrible person. What am I doing with my life?”

Rafayel sighed and scooted closer, draping an arm lazily around your shaking shoulders. “Hey, you’re not a horrible person. Do you want a Xanax?”

“No, I don’t want Xanax! Go get my phone!”

“Okay, okay! Just chill out.” Rafayel moved to open the car door but paused, a muttered curse leaving his mouth before he hurriedly attempted to clean up the drug paraphernalia scattered on the console. Then he turned just in time to have a flashlight shone in his face. In all of your agitation, it appeared that neither of you had noticed the other vehicle that had pulled up.

“Hi, Tara.” Rafeyel greeted the deputy at the window with a thinly veiled hint of irritation as he shielded his eyes with the back of one hand. “Good to see you.”

Tara looked at him, and then her eyes landed on you and widened slightly, her mouth parting as she put the two of you together. “Really? You’re back home?”

Tara was only a couple years younger than you, and there was no surprise that this was her chosen profession. You remembered how she used to hang around all the time in high school, staying behind and hoping you’d ask her to hang out to go to a party. Even back then, it was as if you couldn’t shake her, the girl pursuing anything and getting into anything she could think of.

“So, uh.” Tara leaned over and peeked into the car, leaning her free hand on the window. Perfectly manicured nails and the same cherry red lipstick; her features and skin soft. “What are you guys doing?”

You started to laugh again, unable to resist the odd delight rippling through you. Rafayel tensed, and his lips pressed together as he looked at you in warning.

“Nothing, officer.” You answered with a grin. “Don’t you have more important things to do? What’s all we ever did when we came up here?”

Rafayel slapped a hand to his forehead. Tara scoffed and looked around nervously, as if confused as to how you reached the admission you realized shouldn’t have slipped out of your mouth so easily. Her sudden lack of boldness reminded you of the faux courage she often displayed when she was younger, which was why you were never that close with her.

As long as you’ve known Talia, she was the type to call the priest whenever something happened. Even though you partially expected it, you were still on edge seeing Father Sylus walking into the tiny police station with her.

You were sitting on a bench with Rafayel, feeling angry and frustrated, and your high completely came down when the two of them walked in. Your head snapped up at the sight of the tall man next to Talia, looking composed and put together while she looked like she had just taken a sleeping pill. It truly was no surprise to see Talia rushing in to rescue Rafayel from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into.

“Rafayel.” Talia’s small, five-foot frame was in front of her nephew. “You…” She rubbed her temples and let out a groan.

“Sorry, Talia.” He held up his hands, which were cuffed together, a bit of a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he thought this was the most amusing thing that could possibly happen to him.

You averted your gaze again, the memory of the kiss burning in your mind, and you couldn’t bear to look up. A fresh wave of shame washed over you. Talia’s exasperated voice faded into the background as your heart pounded.

“Come on, let’s get you two out of here,” Talia finally said with a sigh. She turned to Tara, who was seated at the desk nearby. “I’m assuming there won’t be any charges? They were just being stupid, right Tara?”

Tara glanced between you and Rafayel, conflict flickering across her face. You could see the gears turning in her mind, weighing the social capital to be gained by letting this slide versus following protocol. After a tense beat, she sighed and waved a dismissive hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go fill out the paperwork.”

Talia nodded curtly and followed Tara out of the room, and an awkward silence descended, thick and lingering, although you couldn’t pinpoint the cause of it. You kept your gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum, tracing patterns with your eyes.

“Hey, Father,” Rafayel said, “What’d Talia say when she called you?”

“She asked for a ride, said she would kill you, and needed someone to perform the last rites.”

Rafayel let out a short laugh at Father Sylus’ dry response, but you remained silent, still unable to bring yourself to look at the priest. Your mind kept replaying that moment - the gentle press of his lips against yours. How could you face him now, after what transpired between you? What would you even say?

“Right.” Rafayel hummed, “Suppose I should thank you then. Potentially saving my soul and all that.” He nudged you with his elbow, “Ain’t that right, bestie?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You mumbled, only lifting your head when Tara appeared in front of you to remove the handcuffs from your wrists. Talia moved before her nephew, jingling her car keys before dropping them into his hands.

“Let’s get out of here before I change my mind, Rafayel,” She grumbled. He flashed her a cheeky grin but wisely kept his mouth shut this time.

“I can take Y/N home.” Father Sylus nodded toward you once you stood and shook out your wrists. Nervously, your eyes flickered to Rafayel, who looked terrified for you for a brief second before mouthing the words, 'Touch his butt.'

A moment later, you found yourself outside the police station next to the priest who had consumed your thoughts since that ill-advised kiss. You shivered in the harsh autumn breeze that cut straight through the light jacket you wore. You risked a brief glance at Father Sylus. He stood without a jacket, radiating heat, and for a moment, you wanted to press against him to feel that warmth.

You found your words. “I - I can get home on my own,” you said, a bit harsher than was necessary. “I’m an adult the last time I checked.”

Father Sylus paused at the bottom of the steps and turned around. There wasn’t any tension or hesitation in his tone, just like the other night. He was just genuinely inquiring. “How are you feeling, Y/N?”

Shivering slightly and wrapping your arms around yourself, you looked toward the man and offered a smile. Your voice had the faintest tremor as you tried to joke, “I’ve been better.”

Father Sylus glanced at you from the corner of his eye as you fell into step beside him, releasing a little snort at your sarcasm, a gesture that, for some reason, sent a hot rush of awe through you.

“That’s all right, Y/N.” He said with a sad smile. “We can talk about it later if you want. For now, the important thing is getting you home.” Reflexively, his hand came to rest on the small of your back as he steered you toward the parking lot.

Just the brief caress of his warm hand on your back made your thighs clench. It didn’t mean anything, you told yourself, but your stomach churned as the sweet electricity of his touch rushed through you.

Stop it, you told yourself. He was just showing you where he had parked. Yet his lingering warmth was flooding your senses. Swallowing thickly, you pinched your brows together and hoped you didn’t actually upset him in any way.

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

“About what?”

“The things you’re into.”

Stopping, a hard lump formed in your throat, and the entire world fell into a hush. The nearly pitch black parking lot of the police station, the night chill, the beautiful priest that just - was he teasing you, now?

“Again. I’m in my twenties. Weed,” you snapped, emphasizing the last word, “Isn’t a big deal.”

His palm felt scorching through your jacket as he closed a hand around the top of your shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Hey now,” He said, making your breath hitch as you stiffened slightly. “It was just a question.”

You said nothing, simply sliding into the passenger seat of Father Sylus’s car.

A quiet settled between you two in the car, then. All you could do was look out the window at the dark neighborhood and overanalyze every word, every touch, trying to pinpoint exactly how you felt. But how could you even explain that the man beside you gave you the thrill of wanting to do something terrible? Because there had been a moment with him, something that broke the reality of the relationship the two of you had. It didn’t necessarily feel awful, more like an unspoken truth waiting to be expressed.

You tried to control your emotions and thought process, registering that you were in front of your house now. Just as you were going to say goodnight and grab the door handle, you heard Father Sylus speak.

“I owe you an apology for the other night.” The quiet murmur was easy to miss, but you did everything possible to hang onto the sound. A mix of breath. You looked back at him, trying to catch his eyes in the darkness only illuminated by the porch light from the distance.

“I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” He continued, “I’d still like for us to talk.”

As tempting as it was to open the car door and leave, the ache in your belly nearly overwhelmed you. A terrible, crushing sense of longing settled in. Knowing where the lines were drew a blank in your mind. Where the hell were you supposed to draw the line? Fuck, was this situation genuine, or just one of opportunity?

“Can I ask an inappropriate question, Father?” You choked out, swallowing the lump of anxiety that wound its way around the base of your neck. You watched as he shut the car off.

“What is it?” He wasn't looking at you, but the hand still on the wheel tightened slightly.

Inhaling deeply, your heart thumped at an aching speed as you murmured your question, your voice beginning to betray how much he affected you. “Do you kiss a lot of girls?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Why the hell did you mean to bring that up? What good would knowing do, even? Right, of course, you would just go ahead and ruin the image of purity - what was the worst that could happen?

“Well,” You continued, unable to stop yourself but choosing your words carefully, “You kissed me. So, do you kiss a lot of girls?”

Father Sylus was quiet for a long, brutal moment. You felt sweat bead on your skin despite the car being cool. Clenching your fists and digging your nails into your palm, you try to brace yourself. You hadn’t intended to ask your question so outwardly , but what other way was there to put it?

“Y/N, you’re trying to minimize our connection,” he said. He took a deep, steadying breath and then rubbed a hand over his brow. “And I can ignore it. I can try to pray for the strength to bear it.”

Then, he met your gaze directly. In the light from the porch, you could see how his crimson eyes tore into you, emotion suddenly exposed and bared. For the second time, he had allowed you to glimpse what was hiding under the careful mask he put on.

You almost flinched as he touched your knee, his tone dropping. “But I won’t diminish it.”

You found yourself falling, then, into those wounded eyes. You slid your hand forward and set it over his, the heat from the simple touch making you feel like you had touched an ember.

Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned across the center console to kiss him, slow and sweet.

Please don’t push me away.

For a moment, you feel his surprise. However, just before you pull away, he pulls you forward, one warm hand sliding up your back and the other threading through your hair gently, reverently.

You moan softly into his mouth, and his grip tightens slightly. He deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth. You lose yourself in the feel of his lips on yours, his hands on your body.

The gentleness he handles you with stokes the fire within you, warming you from the inside and slowly turning into a fever. You long for him to hold you tightly, to show you he wanted you too - you need that affirmation.

Then his lips grazed the shell of your ear, voice husky and warm. “You’re far too close for your own good.”

What sort of torment was this? All these words hung in the air that you wanted to say, but none came to your mind except for -

“Fuck me,” you rasped. Your face felt hot as the words spilled from your lips, driven by the intensity of your want. “Please, I -”

He silenced you with his mouth, capturing your lips again. His kiss is no less intense and consuming but maintains a level of restraint that a part of you hoped was rapidly crumbling. Your hands move on their own accord, reaching for his belt.

A hand on your wrist stops you before you can go any further, his skin like silk against the pounding pulse point of your wrist. It was a heavyweight, slowly making its way up to where your heart was beating wildly.

He’s looking directly into your eyes when he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently.

“No here, sweetheart.” His voice is feather-light as he speaks. “Not like this.”

While he let go of your wrist, something unseen held you in place. But it was only momentarily before the horror of what you had tried to do crashed over you.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I - what the fuck am I doing?”

With the state you were in, it wouldn’t take much for the well of tears to come. Unable to look at him, you unlocked the car door and pushed it open, nearly tripping on your feet as you stumbled onto the pavement.

You didn’t look back, fearing falling apart, and slammed the door shut.

Rather than going through the front door, you circled the house and went up the back porch through the kitchen. Once inside, you walked past your dad in the living room, who was sleeping on the couch with the television blaring and a near-empty bottle of beer within arm’s reach.

You went into the bathroom in the hallway, shut and locked the door, then slid down onto the cold tile.

The rejection shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. No, this was different. Something deep inside, something raw and fiery, made the ache grow exponentially. It was the memory of the touch, the intoxicating mixture of scents.

Anger clawed its way to the surface because you couldn’t even wrap your head around what you felt. How pathetic, how foolish, how humiliating.

Clutching the sides of your head, you let out a scream, frustration causing your body to shake.

You wanted so badly to disappear.

Did God have a sense of humor or something?

tag list: @celestialforce @readerxyourbabe

#lds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #lads sylus #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads fanfic #sylus x reader #sylus x you

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kiwriteswords · 3 months ago

Text

Tonight, you’re on my mind, so you’ll never know…

Chapter Two Out of Four (Possibly Five!)

Masterlist || Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 7k

Tags/Warnings: Canon-typical themes, sexual themes, hurt/comfort, angst, pining, mutual pining, spoilers for Criminal Minds seasons 1-12, friends to lovers, first-time, loss of virginity, grief, trauma, timeline of 8 year old!Hotch—Post CM!Hotch–please let me know if I am missing anything!

Sypnosis: Years have passed since you and Aaron Hotchner first crossed paths, but the connection you shared has never truly faded. In the wake of personal loss and career demands, your lives have taken different directions, leaving unresolved feelings and unspoken words lingering in the background. As fate pulls you back into each other’s orbit, you must navigate the delicate balance between duty, grief, and the possibility of rekindling something you thought was lost forever. In a world of danger, distance, and emotional walls, will you and Aaron finally confront the past—or let it slip away once more?

When Haley died, not long after you saw him, you felt the earth shift beneath your feet.

You had known Aaron long enough to understand how much he loved her, how fiercely he had fought to keep her and Jack safe. The news of her death reached you like a punch to the gut, and you knew—without a doubt—that Aaron would never be the same.

You couldn’t bring yourself to go to the funeral, though you thought about it, agonized over it, until your hands shook with indecision. You wanted to be there, to offer your support, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this unbearable grief.

But every time you imagined standing among the mourners, watching Aaron from a distance, you felt like an intruder on his pain, an uninvited ghost from his past.

Instead, you sent flowers—a beautiful, understated arrangement of white lilies and roses. You knew it wasn’t enough; it could never be enough. But it was all you could bring yourself to do.

You wrote a simple note to accompany them: Thinking of you and Jack. I’m so sorry for your loss. – Y/N.

As you sealed the envelope, you wondered if he’d even know they were from you, if he’d understand that behind those few words was an ocean of sorrow and regret, that you were mourning for him too.

The truth was, you never stopped thinking about him. You thought about him constantly—especially at night, when the world was quiet and you were left alone with your thoughts. You wondered how he was holding up, how he was managing to be strong for Jack when his own heart was shattered. You imagined him sitting alone in the dark, trying to keep it together for his son, and it broke you in ways you didn’t have words for.

The business card he’d left for you all those years ago was still tucked away in your desk drawer. Every now and then, you’d pull it out and trace your finger over his name, over the number that you’d never dialed.

There had been so many nights when you’d come close, phone in hand, his number half-dialed, your thumb hovering over the call button. But each time, you hesitated, thinking that maybe too much time had passed, that maybe reaching out now would only complicate things, reopen old wounds.

You were terrified that he’d think you were only calling out of pity or obligation, not realizing that you never stopped caring, that you never stopped wanting to be part of his life.

So, you let the moment slip through your fingers, again and again, convincing yourself that staying silent was the best way to honor the memory of what you’d once had.

You could confidently say you were strong on all accounts, but the heartbreak that haunted you like a ghost caused by what could have been was a bear you did not want to poke or agitate more than already occurred.

What you didn’t know was that Aaron had been waiting for that call. He’d left his number for you because he thought—he hoped—that maybe you still felt something, that maybe you’d reach out when the time was right.

But as the days turned into weeks, and then into months, with no word from you, he took your silence as a sign of disinterest, as confirmation that whatever feelings you’d once had for him were buried and gone.

He convinced himself that you had moved on with your life, that you were happy and content without him, and the thought of that hurt more than he ever let himself admit. He buried his feelings for you the way he buried everything else that hurt too much to face—deep inside, behind walls that even he couldn’t always tear down.

In the days after Haley’s funeral, Aaron Hotchner’s world felt like it had been turned inside out. He moved through the motions, numb and detached, his focus entirely on Jack and keeping his son’s shattered world from falling apart. Grief clung to him like a heavy fog, clouding every thought, every breath. It wasn’t until the house finally emptied of well-meaning guests, leaving him alone with Jack’s quiet sobs in the middle of the night, that he allowed himself to truly feel the weight of it all.

Amid the sea of sympathy cards, casseroles, and flower arrangements that had been left behind, there was one that caught his eye—a simple, understated arrangement of white lilies and roses.

Something about the elegance and restraint of it made him pause, a flicker of recognition passing through his mind. He reached for the card tucked into the blooms, the handwriting familiar in a way that made his breath hitch.

Thinking of you and Jack. I’m so sorry for your loss. – Y/N.

Aaron stood there, the note trembling slightly in his hand. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He read those words over and over again, feeling each letter like a whisper from a life he’d tried so hard to bury. You had sent them.

Of all the people who might have reached out, it was you. The person who had once been his anchor, the one who always seemed to understand him in ways no one else ever could.

He ran his thumb over your name on the card, his mind swirling with a thousand thoughts he didn’t know how to untangle. Behind those few words, he could feel everything you hadn’t said—an ocean of sorrow, regret, and something deeper that he’d never been able to fully let go of. It was all there, hidden between the lines, like a message meant only for him.

He thought back to all those nights when he would sit alone in the darkness, the crushing weight of grief threatening to pull him under. He had tried to be strong for Jack, to hold it together for his son, but there were moments when the pain was too much, when the silence of the house echoed with memories of Haley and all the things he couldn’t change.

And now, in the midst of that grief, knowing that you were out there somewhere, thinking of him—mourning with him—made it all the more unbearable.

The truth was, he had been waiting for something from you. Anything. A sign that you still cared, that he wasn’t alone in his grief.

He had left his business card with you all those years ago, hoping that maybe you would reach out when the time was right. He had clung to the idea that you’d still feel something when you saw his number, that you’d dial it when you were ready.

But as the days turned into weeks, and then into months, and still he heard nothing, Aaron convinced himself that your silence was his answer. That whatever feelings you’d once had for him were buried under the weight of time and lost chances.

He told himself that you were happy, that you had moved on, built a life that didn’t include him. It was a thought that hurt more than he’d ever let himself admit—a pain that he buried deep, behind walls he couldn’t afford to let crack.

What he didn’t know was that, in the quiet of your own nights, you held that same business card in your hands, your fingers tracing the letters of his name over and over again. That there were countless moments when you almost called, when his number hovered on your screen, and you hesitated—not because you didn’t want to reach out, but because you were terrified of what you might find on the other end of the line. That your silence wasn’t indifference, but fear of reopening old wounds, of complicating a life that seemed to have settled without you in it.

As he stood there, looking down at the lilies and roses you had sent, Aaron felt a wave of regret so intense it threatened to break him apart. He wished you had fought for him, wished you had asked him to pick you back when he still had the chance to choose. He had always believed that if you’d only said the words, if you had only asked him to stay, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

But now, in the quiet aftermath of his grief, he realized that he had been waiting for a sign from you all along—a sign that never came. And in its absence, he’d built a life that looked whole on the outside but felt empty on the inside. A life where the memory of you was always there, lingering just beneath the surface, like a song he could never forget.

He stared down at the flowers one last time, his fingers brushing over the petals, and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He had spent so much of his life building walls, hiding the pain behind a stoic facade.

But now, in this moment of raw vulnerability, he let himself feel it all—the longing, the regret, the love he’d never quite let go of. And he knew, with a clarity that cut straight through his grief, that the only thing worse than losing Haley was knowing that he had lost you, too.

Because he had loved you then, in ways he never fully let himself admit. And a part of him still loved you now, even if it was too late to say it.

It did not take much to snap him out of the moment, though. Duties called--ones far greater and more significant than anything a badge could offer: Fatherhood. He knew he had to step up to the plate as a father, but more so now, trying to fill the very empty shoes Haley once wore.

After Haley's death, Aaron found himself sitting in the dim light of his office late at night, the house silent except for the faint sound of Jack sleeping down the hall.

He stared at his phone, your name already typed into the message field, his thumb hovering over the keys. The grief was suffocating, pressing on his chest in a way that made it hard to breathe, but you were the only person who had ever made that weight feel lighter.

He started to type, the words fumbling through his mind—I don’t even know how to begin...—but then he stopped, his hand trembling as the memory of Haley’s last moments flooded his thoughts.

Haley had been there through every transition, through the chaos of law school and the early days of his career. With her, things made sense. Their relationship was built on stability, on a history that he didn’t have with anyone else.

Even now, sitting in the quiet of his apartment, he knew that choosing Haley wasn’t just about love—it was about the life they had built together. It was about Jack, about providing a family, about keeping the promises he had made. Haley was his constant, the person who helped him stay grounded when the weight of the world felt too heavy.

With you, it had always felt like a choice he couldn’t afford to make, because choosing you meant tearing apart everything he had already built.

It wasn’t the right time. He wasn’t ready, and maybe, he told himself, neither were you.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, he deleted the message, tucking the phone away as the loneliness of the night settled back in.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself in the same shoes, your finger hovered over Aaron’s contact, hesitation gnawing at you. Before you could overthink it, you pressed the call button. After a few rings, someone answered, but it wasn’t Aaron’s familiar voice.

“BAU, Agent Morgan.”

You froze for a moment, taken aback. “Hi... I was looking for Aaron. Is he available?”

“He’s not here right now, he’s overseas on an assignment,” Morgan replied, his tone polite but measured, offering no further details. “Can I take a message?”

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat. “No, that’s okay. Please don’t tell him I called. It’s nothing urgent.”

As you ended the conversation and the call, a sense disappointment washed over you. Your thoughts were taken over by your door bell ringing. The guy you decided to give a chance--the nice guy who looked good on paper, you finally agreed to a first date.

Here goes nothing, you thought.

The next time you saw Aaron was years later. By then, you were the head of trauma surgery at a major hospital near the BAU headquarters.

You’d built a life for yourself that you were supposed to be proud of—rising through the ranks, saving lives every day—but even with all your success, something always felt like it was missing. You told yourself that you were over Aaron, that your feelings for him were relics of a past life. But some part of you knew that wasn’t true.

You had moved back to D.C., you couldn’t stay away. The call to return too great to ignore. In some weird ways you wondered in the back of your mind if that pull was him.

Then, one afternoon, you got the call that changed everything. Agent Hotchner had collapsed, from internal bleeding and he was being rushed into your ER. The words echoed in your mind, your world narrowing to a single point as you tried to process them.

Your hands shook as you gave the order for your team to take over, citing a conflict of interest that left your colleagues glancing at each other in confusion.

You looked over his chart and felt as if the years you had missed were being connected through Aaron’s traumatic medical chart. Damaged hearing, a stabbing…it was all too much.

You watched from just outside the trauma room, your eyes fixed on Aaron’s pale face as your team worked to stabilize him.

Your heart ached with the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and unconscious, so different from the strong, composed man you remembered. The urge to be by his side, to hold his hand and reassure him, was almost overwhelming.

But the weight of all the years of silence, regret, and missed chances pressed down on you, keeping you frozen in place.

After a few tense moments, you saw the rest of his team gather in the waiting area, anxiously watching their fallen leader through the glass. They looked worried, their bond with him clear in their expressions. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you decided you couldn’t leave things unfinished, not again.

You approached them slowly, the sterile hallway stretching out before you as you made your way to the gathered group of agents.

Your white coat felt heavier with each step, like it carried the weight of your past along with the present. When you finally reached them, you offered a small, professional smile, even though your nerves were betraying you.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Y/N L/N," you said, your voice calm and steady despite the swirl of emotions beneath the surface. "I’m the head of trauma surgery here. I wanted to let you know that we’re doing everything we can for Agent Hotchner."

The team turned their attention to you, a mix of relief and curiosity flickering in their eyes. Penelope Garcia stepped forward first, her expression softening with gratitude and something close to desperation. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, her voice tinged with raw emotion. "He’s… he’s one of us, you know? We’d be lost without him."

You hesitated for a moment, your gaze drifting to the floor before looking back up to meet their eyes.

"I actually know Aaron," you said, the admission almost surreal after all this time. "We go way back—grade school, actually. We lost touch for a while but reconnected in college. We were close for a time before life took us in different directions."

As soon as you said those words, you noticed the subtle shift in their expressions. David Rossi’s eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of recognition lighting up his features. He exchanged a knowing glance with Derek Morgan, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. Rossi’s lips curved into a small, intrigued smile.

"Wait a second," Rossi said, his voice carrying that signature blend of curiosity and understanding. "You’re the one from that photo on Hotch’s bookshelf, aren’t you? The old picture from his college days. We always wondered about the story behind it."

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, caught off guard by the revelation that they knew about the photo. The same picture Aaron had kept all these years, the one you didn’t even know was still a part of his life. You nodded, a soft, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

"I guess I am," you said quietly, your voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia. "We were close once, a long time ago."

Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly as she glanced back at Rossi and then at you.

"Oh my gosh," she said, shaking her head slowly. "We’ve all seen that photo a million times and tried to guess who you were. He never talks about it—never mentioned you, not once. But I guess that’s typical Hotch, huh?"

You gave a tight smile, your gaze softening as you thought of Aaron’s habit of keeping his deepest feelings locked away, even from the people closest to him.

"That sounds like him," you said, your voice laced with a fondness you couldn’t quite hide. "He’s always been good at keeping his mystery."

There was a moment of silence as the team absorbed the significance of what you’d just shared. It was as though a small piece of the puzzle that was Aaron Hotchner had suddenly fallen into place for them. They knew he didn’t open up easily, and to learn that you were someone important from his past felt like they were being let in on a part of his life they never fully understood.

With a slight hesitation, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with your personal phone number written on it. You held it out to Penelope, feeling like you were offering up a piece of your own heart.

"When he wakes up," you said, carefully controlling the tremor in your voice, "could you give this to him? Just tell him that I was here and that I thought he might want to reach out, if he feels like it."

You knew you could call. Life seemed too chaotic for Aaron and you did not want to be an inconvenience. You wanted the ball to be in his court--you wanted him to make the move. You didn’t want to burden him.

Penelope took the paper from you with a tenderness that surprised you, her eyes softening with empathy. She looked at you like she understood more than she was letting on, like she could see the layers of unspoken history between you and Hotch.

"I’ll make sure he gets it," she said, her voice warm with kindness. "And, for what it’s worth, I think he’d want to know you were here."

You offered her a grateful nod, but the moment felt heavy, like you were leaving something unsaid, something lodged in the space between who you were and who you used to be. With one last glance at the group, you turned and walked away, each step feeling like you were tearing yourself from a past that refused to let go.

You stood just outside the hospital room, your hand resting on the doorframe, watching through the small glass window as Aaron lay unconscious.

Every instinct told you to go in, to sit by his side, to be there for him like you had been so many years ago. But something held you back—something more than the sterile walls of the hospital.

It was the weight of everything he had been through. Haley’s death. Raising Jack alone. His life was already so heavy, and you couldn’t bear the thought of adding another layer of complexity to it.

Was it selfish to want to see him? To reconnect, knowing how much he had already lost?

Your pulse quickened, your heart warring with your mind. You weren’t sure if stepping back into his world would heal old wounds or tear them open again.

Inside the room, Aaron stirred slightly, but he didn’t know you were there, just beyond the door.

Even in the haze of pain and medication, his mind circled back to Jack—his first thought always his son, as it had been ever since Haley’s death.

He had built his life around being a father, and any decisions, even those tied to lingering feelings for you, had to take that into account. He had pushed his emotions down for years, focusing on what Jack needed, on what the job demanded.

But lying there in the quiet of the hospital room, his thoughts kept drifting to you. What would it mean to let you back into his life, to let himself feel again, after everything he had lost? Could he afford that risk? Jack needed stability, not more upheaval, and Aaron wasn’t sure if he could be both—Jack’s anchor and someone who opened his heart again.

You lingered for another moment, torn between wanting to reach for the handle and the fear of disrupting a life that wasn’t yours to complicate.

In the end, you stepped back, leaving the connection between you suspended, unresolved. You weren’t sure if it was the right decision, but you told yourself that staying away was what Aaron needed, even if it wasn’t what you wanted.

You waited until Aaron was stable and as you left the hospital that night, your mind raced back to the picture Rossi had mentioned—the one of you and Aaron from those college days. The fact that he’d kept it all these years, through everything, felt like a thread that still connected your lives, no matter how far apart you’d drifted.

But when you went home to your fiancé—a man who was kind and stable, the kind of man you thought you needed—you couldn’t shake the image of Aaron lying in that hospital bed. And you realized, with a dull ache in your chest, that a part of your heart had never really stopped waiting for him to come back to you.

As the night wore on, the realization hit you like a wave crashing over your carefully built defenses. You were living a lie. You couldn’t marry this man, not when your heart had always been tied to someone else, someone who still held a piece of you after all these years.

You broke it off with your fiancé, your voice shaking as you told him that he deserved someone who could love him completely. It was one of the hardest things you’d ever done, but you knew it was the right decision.

When Aaron Hotchner finally woke up, the bright lights of the hospital room made him squint, his head pounding with the remnants of his collapse. As his vision cleared, he saw Penelope Garcia sitting by his side, her face lighting up with relief the moment his eyes opened.

"Aaron, thank goodness!" Penelope exclaimed, her voice wobbling with emotion. "You scared the hell out of us. Don’t you ever do that again!"

He offered her a faint smile, trying to sit up despite the weakness in his limbs. "I’ll do my best," he said, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"

Penelope filled him in on the details of his condition, but then her expression shifted, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Oh, and by the way, you had a visitor," she said, a little smile playing on her lips. "Dr. Y/N L/N, the head of trauma surgery. She was here when they brought you in. The one I looked up for you all those years ago!"

Aaron’s breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of your name. "Y/N was here?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

Hearing your name again, spoken aloud, was like a rush of warmth and memories flooding back into his chest. Memories of college, of late nights and soft conversations, of what could have been.

"Yep," Penelope said, her smile widening. "I didn’t realize she’s the one from the photo in your office. She even left her number for you to call her when you’re feeling up to it." She handed him the slip of paper with your number on it, and he took it, staring at it like it was a lifeline to something he thought he’d lost forever.

But before he could fully process what this might mean, Penelope's face softened with a hint of guilt.

"Okay, confession time," she said, wincing slightly. "I may have done a little updated cyber-stalking on Dr. Y/N, and well... she’s engaged, Hotch. To some guy who looks like he has an investment portfolio and a golf handicap. You know the type."

Aaron’s heart sank, the hopeful flutter in his chest turning to a heavy thud. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, your number staring back at him like a taunt. All those years ago, he’d left his number for you, hoping you’d reach out, hoping you still cared. When you didn’t call, he’d told himself that you’d moved on, that you were happier without him in your life. The flowers to Haley’s funeral were welcomed, but that time in his life was such a blur, yet he can still remember the arrangement if he closed his eyes long enough.

And now, here you were, engaged to someone else, seemingly on the brink of starting a new life that didn’t include him. It felt like history was repeating itself, like he’d opened himself up to the possibility of you again, only to be reminded that maybe it was never meant to be.

He tucked the piece of paper into his pocket, forcing a tight smile onto his face for Penelope’s sake. "Thank you, Garcia," he said softly. "But I don’t think I’ll be using it."

Penelope looked at him with a trace of sympathy, understanding the hidden hurt in his eyes. "You sure, Hotch? She seemed really worried about you. And... I don’t know, it felt like there was more there."

His fingers tightened slightly around the slip of paper, and for a moment, he was tempted to crumble it up, to discard the hope that had briefly flickered to life. But instead, he carefully folded the paper and placed it on the small tray table beside his bed, his expression unreadable.

"Thanks for letting me know, Garcia," he said simply, his voice steady and controlled, giving nothing away.

Penelope nodded, her usual chatter subdued as she took in the calm but distant look in his eyes. "If you need anything, or if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me," she offered, her voice softer now.

Hotch gave her a small nod, a flicker of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I appreciate that," he said, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to say anything more.

When Penelope finally left the room, Aaron lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions he kept locked away.

He thought about you—about how you always seemed to show up in his life when he least expected it, like a constant he could never quite shake. The thought of you engaged to someone else, building a life without him, was like a knife twisting in his chest, but he would never let anyone see that pain.

More time had passed since you last saw Aaron Hotchner, and you had tried to bury the memories of your connection deep within the responsibilities of your demanding career. You had almost convinced yourself that he was a part of your past, that life had moved on without him. But then, fate threw him back into your life once more.

The ER was filled with its usual chaos when you caught wind of the commotion coming from one of the trauma rooms. The sharp, familiar voice drifting through the slightly open door stopped you in your tracks. It was a voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime, but one that still had the power to make your pulse quicken.

"No, I’m fine," you heard Aaron Hotchner say, his tone clipped and full of irritation. "I don’t need to be here; I need to get back to my team."

"Sir, you need to be evaluated," the attending doctor insisted, exasperation clear in their voice. "We don’t even know what drugs you were exposed to."

You pushed open the door to the trauma room, your gaze locking onto Aaron almost immediately. He was standing there, stubborn as ever, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. His suit was disheveled and dirty, his tie hanging loose, and a laceration marred his otherwise composed face. Despite everything, he still looked like the man who had once held your heart.

"Excuse me, Doctor," you said, stepping in smoothly. "I’ll take it from here."

Aaron’s eyes shot up to meet yours, the annoyance in his expression softening into something else entirely—something that looked like relief mixed with surprise.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his mouth despite the circumstances. "What are the odds?"

You ignored the flutter in your chest as you gave him a stern look.

"Sit down, Hotchner," you said, crossing your arms. "Let me do my job, or I’ll sedate you myself if I have to."

He let out a small, resigned huff but obeyed, lowering himself onto the examination table.

"I see you haven’t changed much," he said, his voice softer now, almost teasing.

"And you haven’t changed at all," you replied with a grin. "Still as stubborn as ever."

You began checking his vitals, your fingers brushing lightly against his wrist as you took his pulse. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself together, like he was fighting to keep control.

"Tell me what happened," you said, your voice more clinical now as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

He sighed, "The unsub we are dealing with," He shared the minor details of the case--what he could, filling you in on all he could share. It flowed easily talking to you though. Easier than it did over the years trying to tell Haley--or even Beth some of the gruesome details of his job. It was as if he knew you could take it--you were a different brand of strength than they were.

You gave him a pointed look as you adjusted the blood pressure cuff around his arm.

"Humor me," you said, arching an eyebrow. "Let’s make sure there aren’t any lasting effects before you go charging off to save the day."

He opened his mouth to argue but then shut it, watching you work with a mixture of frustration and something else—something softer that he didn’t quite let reach his eyes.

You ordered a few tests to identify the drug in his system, then turned your attention to the small laceration on his face. You took out a suture kit and began to clean the wound, your touch gentle but precise.

"Hold still," you said, focusing on your work. "I’d hate to be responsible for ruining that beautiful face of yours."

A ghost of a smile crossed Aaron’s lips, a rare lightness in his expression. "I didn’t realize you cared so much about my looks," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Just trying to keep the world’s best profiler looking his best," you shot back. "Can’t have you intimidating the bad guys with a face full of scars."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a warmth through your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time. For a moment, it was like you were back in college, bantering over late-night coffee, before life got so complicated.

As you finished the last stitch, you gently dabbed the area around the wound. Your hand lingered on his cheek just a second longer than necessary, and when you pulled back, you could feel the shift in the air between you—like the unspoken words were almost too loud to ignore.

"There," you said, taking a step back, your voice a little shakier than you intended. "You’re good to go, Hotchner. No excuses now."

Aaron held your gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and tinged with a vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

"Why didn’t you ever call?" he asked, his eyes never leaving yours. "All those years ago, I left my number for you, and you never called."

You felt the words hit you like a punch to the gut, all the memories and regrets rushing back in a flood you weren’t prepared for. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got tangled up with your emotions. You hadn’t expected this moment, hadn’t expected him to ask.

"I—" you started, then stopped, taking a breath to steady yourself. "I wanted to, Aaron. I really did. But I convinced myself it was better this way, that you had your life with Haley and Jack, and I didn’t want to complicate things."

He watched you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to read every thought, every hesitation you’d ever had.

"You never complicated anything," he said quietly. "You were the one thing that always made sense."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I was afraid," you admitted. "Afraid that maybe I missed my chance, that too much time had passed. I over thought time and time again, the email I sent…or the time you didn’t call me after you collapsed."

It was as if you were rambling now--the once confident and sure doctor now felt small and worried over details of what could fill a book with you and Aaron as the protagonists.

Aaron reached out then, his hand covering yours where it rested on the table. His touch was warm, grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for the two of you.

“I suppose we were both hesitant,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with a steady intensity. “But it doesn’t have to be too late. Not for us.”

You looked up at him, your heart in your throat, the weight of all your missed chances hanging in the air between you. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope—that maybe this time, the universe would finally let you and Aaron Hotchner find your way to each other.

And in that moment, as he held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you knew that this was far from over—that there was still so much left to say, and that this time, you weren’t going to let him slip through your fingers.

Aaron’s hand was still resting on yours, his eyes holding yours with a kind of intensity that made it impossible to look away. For the first time in years, it felt like the universe was giving you both a moment to finally be honest with each other, to close the gap that had always seemed to stretch between you.

But then, just as you opened your mouth to say something, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment. Aaron’s eyes flicked downward to the screen, his face softening slightly when he saw the caller ID.

“It’s Jack,” he said, a mixture of warmth and concern in his voice. You could see how quickly his priorities shifted; everything about him changed when it came to his son. There was a tenderness there, a fierce sense of responsibility that never wavered, even in the face of all the chaos around him.

You offered a small, understanding smile, even though your heart sank just a little. You were reminded of being there--seeing Aaron the day Jack was born. What, was that nine? Ten years ago?

“Go,” you said softly, nodding toward the door. “He needs you.”

Aaron hesitated, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer. He seemed torn, like he didn’t want to leave without making sure you both knew where things stood between you. Finally, he gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.

He answered the call, turning slightly away from you as he spoke to Jack. His voice softened, the way it always did when he was talking to his son, full of patience and love. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his tone gentle. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m at the hospital, but everything’s fine. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

When he hung up, he turned back to you, his eyes searching yours with that same intensity that always seemed to cut right through to your soul. “I have to go see Jack,” he said, and the regret in his voice was undeniable. “He needs me right now.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, knowing that this was who Aaron Hotchner was—a father first, a protector. It was one of the things you’d always admired about him, even when it meant he had to walk away.

“I understand,” you said quietly, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Go be with him. He’s lucky to have you.”

Aaron took a step toward the door but then stopped, turning back to you one last time. His expression was conflicted, like he was fighting to find the right words. Finally, he asked the question that hung in the air between you like a lifeline, a chance to reach out for something real.

“What next?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, but heavy with meaning. The vulnerability in his eyes was raw and unguarded, the kind of look that left you breathless.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you realized that this was it—the moment you’d both been waiting for, the chance to finally lay all your cards on the table.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice cracking slightly. “But I want to find out. I don’t want to keep missing our chances, Aaron.”

A small, relieved smile spread across his face, like the answer you gave was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Me neither,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m tired of being out of sync with you.”

For a heartbeat, you both stood there, neither of you quite willing to break the connection, even as the reality of his world and yours pulled at him. You could see the weight of his responsibilities in his eyes, the knowledge that his life would always be complicated, always full of shadows that might pull him away at any moment.

He reached out, brushing a thumb lightly over your cheek, a gesture so tender it made your heart ache.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “This time, I won’t let it slip away.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing that you’d hold him to that promise. “Be safe,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking.

He gave you one last lingering look, the kind of look that spoke of all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. Then, with a reluctant smile, he turned and left the room, his figure disappearing into the chaos of the hospital corridor.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where he’d been, your heart still racing from the intensity of everything that had just happened. And even though he was gone, you felt a sense of hope that you hadn’t felt in years—a feeling that maybe, this time, the timing could finally be right.

As you turned back to your work, a small smile played on your lips, the warmth of his touch still tingling on your skin. You didn’t know what was next, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t going to let him slip away this time. Not without a fight.

Tag List:

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#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #tonightyoureonmymind #kiwriteswords

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irkimatsu · 10 months ago

Note

So I've got a request that may be odd but interesting. Reader/Husk where things start off with Husk being an Overlord and Reader a lowly sinner down on their luck, but after a long period of separation (things going sour, Alastor's doing, or whatever sounds best to you) they reunite and rekindle their relationship when Husk has lost everything and is working at the hotel, and Reader has risen the ranks to become an Overlord themselves. GN Reader is fine, thanks for your time!

Oh god help me I made this one angsty. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

3.2k words (help), angst with a happy ending, SFW besides the usual swearing you expect from Hazbin fics. Reader finds Husk again after a decade apart, a tearful reunion is had, oh god help me

---

You stand in the middle of a grand ballroom, with a live band playing acoustic music and food and drink as far as the eye can see. Dozens of demons fill the hall, the most influential Sinners in the Pride Ring joined by their associates and servants.

It’s not the first time you’ve been to one of these gatherings, but it’s your first time here while on the other end of the leash.

You have to admit, it’s somewhat lonely here at the top. You’re not completely alone; like everyone else here, you’ve brought along your favorite contracted soul, who has just brought you a glass of champagne and earned a pat on his head for his troubles. But as you sip your drink, you can’t help but remember something with a smile.

He’d spit this out and ask where the scotch was…

It’s so strange not having his strong arm pinning you to his side. You can still see the charming expression on his face as he speaks with another Overlord, even as his tail waves as a warning to everyone who speaks to him. You know what that tail is saying without him needing to open his mouth.

“I’ll respect you if you respect me, but if you even think about trying anything with my pet, you’re dead.”

A lot of servants here are openly fearful or disdainful of their owners, but Overlord Husk never made you feel anything less than cared for. Sure, he had needs from you, but you enjoyed fulfilling those needs, especially knowing that he’d back down if you asked. He was cocky, spoiled, and reckless, but he adored you and always made sure to show it, both to you and to anyone who dared suspect that you were only a trophy he’d happily gamble away.

Then one day, he was just… gone. You woke up in his bed in the mansion like so many other mornings, and immediately you noticed that you couldn’t feel the faint bindings of his leash around your neck. You searched the mansion for him, but instead, you found Alastor reclining in Husk’s favorite lounge chair, sipping rye from one of Husk’s own glasses.

“Husker is no longer in need of your services, my dear. You’d best be on your way.”

He wouldn’t explain things any further than that, and you never heard from Husk again. What happened to him? Why would he just leave you like that, after years of calling you his most precious treasure…?

You need to shake those thoughts from your head before you have a breakdown in the middle of the party, so you join a nearby group of Overlords you can’t identify by name, intending to nod along and pretend to participate in their conversation. They appear to be discussing that rehabilitation hotel that Lucifer’s daughter started up. You continue sipping your drink and listening, hoping they don’t notice your silence.

“I still think it’s a foolish idea…”

“They did a wonderful job fighting off those exorcists, though. Imagine, we may never have to worry about another extermination thanks to that hotel!”

“Did you see any of the battle?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I never dare leave my shelter during an extermination, and I certainly don’t want to watch such a thing on TV!”

“Well, I caught some of it on the news, and would you believe, I could have sworn I saw the Gambling Demon fighting with the rest of Charlie’s crew!”

You try your damnedest to hide your shock at that news. At the very least, you manage to avoid dropping your glass.

“The Gambling Demon! Staying at Charlie’s hotel?! Surely you’re mistaken! And here I thought Alastor had him killed!”

“Oh, he looks different to be sure. He’s gotten a lot thinner, a lot scruffier. But how many tuxedo cats with giant wings do we have flying around in Hell? It had to have been him!”

“What do you suppose he’s doing in that place? Surely that old drunk doesn’t think Heaven would ever take him?”

“What kind of people does Heaven take, anyway…?”

As the discussion drifts away from the Gambling Demon, your attention drifts away from the discussion.

You’ll need to drop by that hotel sometime soon.

—

It takes you a few days to get away for long enough to stop by the hotel. Who knew Overlord business could be so exhausting? No wonder Husk needed your help with stress relief so often. But finally, after days of wondering, you find yourself standing outside the doors of the recently rebuilt Hazbin Hotel.

Surely it was all rumors, a cruel game of telephone meant to get your hopes up before harshly striking them down. You wouldn’t find him here. Not here, of all places. As far as you know, he’s dead.

But still, you have to know…

With a deep breath, you steel your nerves and push the door open. You’ve barely stepped into the lobby when a cheerful voice starts calling out to you.

“Oh! Hey there!” A group of demons are sitting in a circle of chairs, and all of them are now staring at you. Most of them are strangers, but you do recognize the one who’s enthusiastically waving at you as Princess Charlie herself.

You also recognize the winged cat who is currently staring at you with wide eyes and mouthing something inaudible. He’s much thinner, unhealthily so, and he doesn’t appear to be taking nearly as much care of his fur as he used to… but it can’t be anyone else, can it?

“You’re just in time!” Charlie says as she launches out of her seat and runs up to you. “We were just starting today’s trust exercise! Would you like to join us? It’s a perfect way to see what the Hazbin Hotel is all about!”

She’s speaking so quickly you can barely follow her.

“Oh, right, introductions! My name’s Charlie! What’s your name?”

You tell her your name, and she squeals with glee as she takes your hand. “Come on, come sit with us! Let me introduce you to everyone! This is Angel Dust, and Niffty, and Husk…”

You don’t remember any of the names she says after Husk’s. It really is him. The instant you lock eyes with him, you can’t look away. He’s frozen stiff, only the slight twitches of his tail showing that he hasn’t turned to stone.

“...and we have plenty of open rooms! What size bed do you like? Do you smoke? I know it’s hard to quit, and we’ll help you with that, but before then I can make sure you get a room with a balcony-”

“Charlie!” A girl with long white hair laughs and grabs Charlie’s hand to pull her back down into her seat. “Calm down! I think you’re freaking them out!”

“Sorry, Vaggie, sorry!” Charlie says. “It’s just always so exciting to see a new guest!”

“I don’t think it’s Charlie’s fault,” says the pink spider sitting on Charlie’s other side. “Seems like they just got distracted by our bartender. You like him, don’tcha? I know he’s cute, but don’t try pettin’ him, he bites.”

Husk must be stunned if he’s not reacting to a joke about his cat form. You’ve seen him punch other Overlords for that.

A bartender, though… that part doesn’t surprise you at all. But why here?

“Did you want to get a room set up first?” Charlie asks you. “I can help you pick one out, then we can come do the trust exercise! Oh, I can’t wait to get to know you!”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Husk says as he rises to his feet with a grunt.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Husk! I can-”

“I’m the concierge here, ain’t I? Takin’ people to their room is part of my job.”

“Normally you complain when we ask you to check people in,” Vaggie says.

Husk shrugs at Vaggie’s observation as he heads toward the hotel’s bar. He grabs a box from beneath the bar and shakes it. “So, what size bed? You want a balcony?”

“Um… king?” you say, not sure if it’s an option. “Balcony is fine.”

“Mmm…” he stirs the contents of the box around with his claws for a moment, then takes out a key card and reads it. “Right, here’s one. Fifth floor.” He puts the box back where he found it, then pulls out a book and a pencil. He flips through the book for a specific page, then scribbles something inside it.

He writes your full name perfectly, despite you not saying it directly to him.

Once that’s taken care of, the book also returns to where it came from. “C’mon.” He heads to the stairwell, and you follow.

What should you say to him? Should you say anything? Should you give him the first word? He doesn’t appear to be taking it as the two of you silently climb the stairs.

You reach the fifth floor, and your hotel room, without either of you saying a thing. “This is it.” He swipes the card and opens the door for you. “Look good?”

It’s a fully decorated room, with potted plants and wall art and a comfortable looking bed. It’s not entirely to your taste, but you can tell whoever designed it took great care with it.

“Don’t mind the art, you can replace that if you want. You might be staying for a while, so make it yours.”

“All right… thank you.”

Over a decade, and that’s all you can say to him?

You expect him to leave you to get settled in, but he keeps standing there, propping the door open. “Hey, uh… do I… know you, from somewhere?”

Your heart gives a single, heavy thud. “I think so… if you’re who I think you are.”

“Can I come in?” he asks. “Talk to you for a minute?”

“What about Charlie?” you ask.

“She’s patient,” is all he says before walking into the room. You follow him in and shut the door behind you. He’s standing in the middle of the room now, not looking at you. He seems to be at a loss of what to do with himself.

“...it’s really you,” he finally says, still facing away. “Before you said your name to Charlie, I thought… it couldn’t be…”

“Husk…” is all you can say. How long has it been since you’ve said that name? It feels so wonderful rolling off your tongue. At the sound of his name, he finally turns around to face you.

“...I missed hearing that…”

Your head is in conflict over what you should do now. Hug him and promise not to lose him again? Slap him and ask where the hell he’s been all this time? Break down crying, overwhelmed with thoughts of how you just spent the last ten years assuming he was dead?

“What happened…?” is all you can manage to say, without moving an inch.

His ears tilt down and he grumbles to himself as he grips his arms. “I didn’t want… didn’t mean… I’m sorry. He wouldn’t… I couldn’t…” he takes a deep breath. “...a lot’s happened since the last time I saw you.”

“Can you tell me about any of it?” you ask.

“Can we sit?” he asks in return. You nod in agreement, and the two of you sit on the edge of the hotel bed.

“How much do you know already?” Husk asks.

“Not much,” you say. “I went to sleep by your side one night, and then I never saw you again. That’s all.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” he continues.

“That you had a big meeting the next morning, but that I shouldn’t worry about it and you’d be home soon…” The gears start turning in your head. “What happened at that meeting…?”

“I lost,” Husk says. “I lost everything to Alastor. The money, the casinos, the mansion, the staff… even my own soul. A few bad hands, and that was it.”

You once again remember seeing Alastor that day, and your hand goes up to your throat. “Did you lose me to…?”

“I didn’t lose you to anyone!” Husk insists. “I promised I’d never bet your soul, didn’t I? I didn’t bet it then, either. He didn’t want me keeping you, said a pet didn’t need a pet of his own… but there was no fucking way I was letting him have you. Letting you go before he took everything from me was the best thing I could do for you.”

“And you couldn’t tell me?” Tears are welling in your eyes. Are you relieved? Angry? Where has he been?

“He wouldn’t let me!” Husk says, defensive. “Wouldn’t even let me near any of the property I used to own! I couldn’t tell anyone from those days what happened! He wanted everyone to think he’d killed me!” He needs a few breaths to calm himself down. You barely recognize your old Overlord in his current face; he looks so lost and tired. “Believe me, I didn’t just give up. I looked for you when I could, but I didn’t know where to begin, especially when I couldn’t even get into my own casinos anymore. If I had any idea where you were, I swear I would have found you…”

If he still doesn’t know where you’ve been, then clearly he forgot to check somewhere vital. “Have you been keeping an eye on the Overlords recently?”

“Like I want anything to do with that fucking group ever again,” he spits out. “I still hate how I lost everything, but I know it’s for the best that I got out of there with some dignity intact… wait.” He sits up and stares at you. “Is that where you’ve been?”

You smile and nod. He chuckles in response and leans back on his hands.

“Heh… should’ve known you’d find another Overlord to take care of you. I just hope they’re good to you… I may not be as powerful as I once was, but I’ll still kill anyone who tries messing with you. I ain’t breaking my promises to you, not even now.”

“Husk…” you say with a shake of your head. “I’m not on anyone’s leash anymore. Not since I lost you.”

“Eh?” He raises a large, red eyebrow. “Then what are you doing, hanging around with Overlords?”

“Well… I am one now,” you said. “After you left, I had to fend for myself. I started a business, made connections with the people you used to know, and now… here I am.”

“No shit… you as an Overlord,” he says. “Not surprised you managed to climb that high, if that’s what you wanted. I just hope you’re playing fair. Not like some of the other scumbags with that title.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’s including himself in “scumbags”.

“Of course I play fair,” you say. “I learned a lot from you. It’s ruthless work, but it doesn’t mean I have to mistreat people for it.”

“Good to hear,” he says. “Good to know some people down here don’t let power completely fuck ‘em up. What kinda souls you own?”

“I try to make fair deals,” you say. “Hiring people to work in factories, using contracts to protect company secrets, that sort of thing. I think my people are happy where they are. I try to make it less awful than it could be, at least.”

“Got any pets?” Husk continues.

“Pets…? Oh.” It takes a moment for you to catch his meaning. “No, no! I’m not interested in that sort of thing. Everyone just works for the company. No personal relationships.”

“Huh… shame. Having a pet is a lot of fun. Getting to spoil ‘em, seeing ‘em smile when you’re around… pissing off other Overlords who don’t understand why their souls hate them so damn much, but your pet can’t keep their paws off of you…” He sighs and closes his eyes. “It was nice, having you by my side. I regret a lot of shit from back then… but I don’t regret having you. …at least, as long as you don’t regret it. Was I good to you back then…?”

“You were amazing,” you assure him as you lean against him. “Amazing enough that… that I can’t see myself with a pet of my own. I don’t belong on that side of the leash… and I don’t belong on anyone else’s leash, either.”

“...you know I’m washed up,” he says. “I ain’t got shit left. No money, no influence, just a damn chain around my neck forcing’ me to do the bidding of a sadistic freak who thinks I’m an animal.”

“Husk…” You can’t help but hug him tight as you hear just what he’s been going through in your time apart.

“I can’t spoil you anymore. I can’t take you to parties, I can’t buy you expensive gifts… that shit’s over now. You’re staring at… well, you’re staring at a withered old husk.”

“Can you still sing to me?” you ask. “And dance with me? Perform tricks for me?”

“I… maybe?” he says. “I’m out of practice. Haven’t had a reason to do any of that for years.”

“But could you?” you repeat.

“I mean… I’d like to… I’ve missed it.” He smiles again, his eyes staring off into the distance. “I still remember how you’d smile when I sang your favorite love songs…”

“I always loved your voice,” you say. “I still remember what you sound like when you sing. I think about it sometimes…”

“Yeah?” he says. “...I think about it too. You smiling as I’d sing to you, and… and hold you…” You’ve been waiting ever since you leaned in, but finally, his arms are wrapped around you. “And tell you that… no matter how much I lost… I’d never lose you…”

You never saw Overlord Husk cry before. Such a prideful man surely couldn’t cry. But as he rests his chin atop your head, you can hear his breathing start to hitch.

“I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assure him as you nuzzle his neck, just the way he loved all those years ago. A purr assures you that it hasn’t changed.

“If I knew that day… that when I left, I wouldn’t be coming back… I would have stayed in just a little longer.” He rests his claw on your chin and tilts it up to look in your eyes. Now you can clearly see the tears pricking the corners of his own. “Would have at least kissed you goodbye…”

“You did kiss me goodbye,” you say. “That night, before we went to sleep, the last thing you did was kiss me…”

“...and I promised I’d be back,” he finishes. “I kissed you goodbye for a day. Not a decade.” His claws run down your face, just as gentle as ever. “Could I… do that now?”

“Don’t kiss me goodbye,” you say. “Just kiss me.”

He grants your wish, lightly placing his lips against yours. He finally lets his tears fall, but the way they stain your cheeks doesn’t make you pull away. If anything, they’re just another reminder for you that he’s here, along with his warmth in your arms and the sound of his soft moans vibrating against your lips as he keeps kissing you.

“Charlie…” you murmur. “Charlie’s waiting for us-”

“She’s patient,” he repeats as he pushes you down to the bed. “I’m sure she’ll understand me wanting some quiet time with an old friend.” He offers no further argument before resuming his kisses, and you have no further reason to protest.

“I love you, Husk,” you manage to whisper between kisses.

“I love you too, doll. Always have.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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folklvrsworld · 1 year ago

Text

a christmas reunion ♤

pairing: ex!harry james potter x wolfstar daughter!reader warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight cursing, weirdo cormac summary: reader gets invited to a christmas party reunion of hogwarts students by pansy parkinson, she didn't expect to find and rekindle with an old flame song: a nonsense christmas - sabrina carpenter

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Storage, check. Keys, check. Personal belongings, check. The only thing left was turning off the lights and then the bookshop would be officially closed for the holiday. I took a quick scan around the place to make sure I didn't forget anything, then my eyes landed on the letter on top of the register counter.

Ah, right. The invitation.

I sighed and walked towards the counter to grab the letter. I looked at the neat and all too familiar handwriting addressing the letter to my bookshop. Opening it again for the second time that day, I was met with the same message.

Dear, Y/N.

Hope you're having a wonderful Christmas time, if you're not too busy tomorrow, I'm hosting a Christmas party down at the club.

It's reserved for Hogwarts students era '91 only, with some exceptions.

Would be happy if you could join, party starts at eight, ends whenever it ends.

Hoping to see you there!!

PS. the dresscode is everything and anything Christmas

From, Pansy Parkinson.

I knew that I wasn't going to go. After graduating from Hogwarts and opening my own bookshop, I haven't really spoken to any of my Hogwarts friends. With the exception of Pansy and Hermione (who sometimes come in to my bookshop). I have even lost contact with him.

Shoving the letter to my bag, I turned off the lights and walked out of the shop, before locking the door with the shop key. Snow immediately fell down and rested itself onto my hair, I walked to my car and drove home to my apartment in London.

I intended to relax and enjoy this Christmas eve by having some hot chocolate and watching classic Christmas movies in bed. Mid way through my movie and hot cocoa, my phone rang. When I saw the caller ID, I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N! Happy Christmas eve!" a familiar cheery voice from the other line called out, "Did you get my invitation?"

I chuckled, "Yes, Pansy. I got your invitation personally delivered by an owl coming into my shop this morning."

"Great, you're coming, right?"

"Uhmmm...." I paused the movie while waiting for her reaction.

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a Grinch."

I scoffed, "Excuse me? I am not anywhere near a Grinch, Pansy Parkinson. I am a very festive person."

"Then come to my party tomorrow! Wouldn't it be fun to have a little Hogwarts Christmas reunion?"

I sighed, "I don't know, Pans. It's been such a long time since we all saw each other. I'm 23 damn years old now, it's been quite some time."

"Woman! That's exactly why I'm hosting this reunion party—Merlin's beard, you never changed." she gave a chuckle.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I laughed.

She sighed, "Look, just give it some thought. Okay? You don't have to socialize if you don't want to, you can hangout with me."

"Mhm..." I say unconvinced, "Fine, I'll think about it. But I made no promises, alright?"

I can practically hear her smiling through the phone, "Okay, great! I'm counting on it. Anyway, have a great Christmas eve, bye!"

"You too, Pans." I hang up the phone and continued my movie without having any second thought about the party.

But as I tried to sleep that night, thoughts about the party went over my head. Should I go or should I not? Will I regret it after if I didn't go? I decided to sleep it off and make up my mind on Christmas morning.

The next day, I got up earlier to get into the Christmas spirit. I put on some music while I make myself some special breakfast, and when the doorbell rang, I open it to find a delivery man handing me a wrapped present. It was from my dads. The famously known Lupin-Black couple.

I quickly read the christmas card, tearing up at what my papa wrote and silently laughing at what my dad wrote. I really miss them, but I am coming back home for the new years. I put the card aside and opened the box to reveal a pair of beautiful snowflake dangly earrings.

They were absolutely beautiful, I love how they always know what to pick for me. I store them inside my jewelry box and made a mental note to thank them later. After I finished my breakfast and did all of my morning routine, a notification came from the online daily prophet.

Have a very Merry Christmas to all witches

and wizards everywhere!!

To make this day even more festive and fun, all

Hogwarts alumni from '91 are invited to

a Christmas party down at Amortentia.

Get ready to dress up, get drunk, and have a

blast from the past for a reunion!

I click on the notification to find more details about the party. Damn, Pansy really went all out for this. My mind hasn't made up on whether I should go or not, although deep down I knew it wouldn't be so bad to go.

Driven by temptation, I walk over to my closet and look through my very minimum collection of dresses. None of the dresses were Christmassy enough, till I caught my eye on an unopened dress.

It was a red fluffy dress with sparkles all over the fabric, it had a bow around the waist, with a puffy short sleeve to complete the look. I had never worn it before, but it did scream Christmas.

Standing in front of the mirror, I held up the dress to my body and looked at myself up and down. I would look good in it. After some considerable thought I decided that I'm going to that Christmas party. It's not like I'm going just to see if a certain someone is going to be there...

Around seven, I took a shower and got ready. I put on the dress and did my makeup. I wore those snowflake earrings my dads bought for me, did a little crown braid over my hair, and put on a pair of shoes.

Looking at myself once more, I grabbed my purse and wand, put on my big warm coat, then headed out the door. I wasn't going to spend any money on an uber car when I have my own, though I hated driving in the snow.

When I got there, I could already hear party music coming out from the building. A big LED sign that says "Amortentia", Pansy's own personal bar. After locking my car and taking off my coat, I walk towards the door which had a sign that says "Closed for private party."

As I open the door to enter, the bouncer stopped me and asked me for my invitation. Luckily, I had it with me in my purse. He made sure it was the right invitation and he let me in. Christmas party music immediately blasted in my ear as I stepped into the place.

The place was decorated for Christmas, for obvious reasons. I've personally never had been in Pansy's bar since she opened it, I would be lying if I say I wasn't impressed. The place had a huge dance floor and a big bar. A wave of magic energy flew through me, it feels good to be surrounded by wizards again.

"Merlin's beard, Y/N/N! So glad you decided to come!" I heard Pansy yell through the noisy crowd as she walks towards me with a glass of presumably firewhiskey in her hand.

"Hey, Pans. The place looks great! It's way bigger than I imagined." I smiled, "You look very pretty, by the way."

"Awe, thanks babe. Don't even get me started on how you look." she looked at me up and down, "Damn. Anyway, come with me."

Before I could even say anything, she was already dragging me while sipping on her drink. Not a second later, I was by the bar and saw Pansy's slytherin friends. Don't get me wrong, they're my friends as well, but it's been a long time since we ever said a word to each other.

"Look who I brought!" Pansy said in a sing-song voice to her friends, all of their eyes immediately went on me.

"Lupin-Black! Long time no see!" Theodore Nott greeted me with a smile, which I returned back.

Blaise Zabini gave me a fist bump and Draco Malfoy, didn't seem to change, just gave me a nod to indicate that he senses my presence. My anxious self slowly began to calm as I started to talk with them, casually looking around as well and seeing a bunch of familiar faces.

I couldn't help but feel the desperate need to catch a sight of a specific face, a face I knew I would recognize from far away. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't seem to find him. Pansy seemed to notice me glancing over my shoulder a few times, so she asked.

"Looking for someone?"

I was brought back to my senses and looked at her, "Hm? No, no one."

"Oh come on, really? You're giving me bullshit for my Christmas present?"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, but seriously—I'm not looking for anyone." I defended myself.

She sipped her glass, "Alright, if you say so. But just for your information, I did send an invitation to him. So there might be a chance he's here."

I raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes, "Stop pretending, Y/N/N. I know who you're looking for and you don't have to be ashamed to say that you're looking for Potter."

My eyes widened as I attempt to shut her up, "Shh! Are you mad?! Don't say that out loud or people might hear and think I'm obsessed with him or something."

"Aren't you...?" she asked lowly, I fought the urge to smack her across the face.

"Pansy. Please. I'm over him, besides he's with Ginny, isn't he?"

She shrugged, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

The rest of the night surprisingly went very well. I eventually got brave enough to talk to some old friends and had fun on the dance floor with them, it felt good to reminisce on the feeling of having secret booze parties at Hogwarts. It also felt good to drink firewhiskey again.

When I was sitting at one of the couches in the corner, resting my feet from dancing and walking around, I felt an uncomfortable presence beside me. I had a guess on who it might be before even looking at the person.

"Merry Christmas! It's Y/N, right? Hufflepuff? It's been a while, you look hot now." the person said.

I mentally rolled my eyes, "Uhm...yeah."

"You remember me, right? Cormac Mclaggen." he introduced himself, I simply nodded my head.

He scooched himself a bit closer to him, swinging his hand behind so he could touch my shoulder. I avoided his gaze as much as I could. Dear Merlin, get me out of this place.

"Say, what are you doing tonight? Want to maybe come by my place?" he said with a very forced seductive voice.

I held in a breath, "Uhm....I'm good, Cormac."

"I could maybe buy you a drink?" this man would never give up until I agree on something to do with him, would he.

To my surprise, a voice called out from behind me. A familiar voice, "Sorry, she's here with me."

Cormac seemed to be taken aback, he inched away from me before then walking away like nothing happened. I sighed and stood up to face the person who saved me, "Thanks for that.."

He smiled and nodded his head, "No problem. Can't believe Parkinson invited him to the party, but I guess she invited everyone with no exceptions."

I couldn't help but take a good look at him. He had grown a few inches taller since I last saw him, his brown fluffy hair stayed the same, his body had gotten more fit too. But the thing that mesmerized me the most were his eyes. Those green beautiful eyes. Same as ever.

"How are you, Harry?"

"I've been doing well. I mean—yeah, being head auror isn't an easy job, I almost get zero hours of sleep everyday. But hey, it's the holidays, and I'm surviving" he laughed.

God, I miss him. A lot.

"What about you? I heard that your bookshop's the best in London. I wouldn't be surprised about that, truthfully."

I chuckled, "That might be a little overreacting. But I'm doing really good as well. But I feel the most happy tonight, it's been a while since I'm surrounded by my kind of people."

"I'm surrounded by them everyday. But it's been a while since I saw you." he looked at me and I swear my heart plummeted down to my feet.

Harry and I had a thing back then, it went from third year until the fifth. He was my best friend first, I got along with him and Ron and Hermione really well. He was my first kiss and my first time, but we never addressed our relationship. In other words, our relationship was messy.

It was never clear what we were supposed to be, more like a 'friends with benefits' type of thing, that's why it just kind of fell apart at sixth year. He had a thing for Ginny and started dating her, leaving me heartbroken, but not really surprised.

But seeing him now, looking as good as ever, made me rethink about what we were back then. Making me feel like I wanted him again. But I pushed that thought aside.

He's with someone. You can't do this, it's Christmas.

"I was watching you all night, you here with anyone?" he asked. He was watching me all night?

"No, no one. I even didn't want to go in the first place, but Pansy convinced me. I'm not with anyone, or seeing anyone, for that matter. Just—by myself is all."

Why does it feel like I'm trying to make it super extra fucking clear that I'm not in a relationship or even as close to seeing anyone? He wouldn't care for that...would he?

"Oh...I see." he said, I could somehow see his body relaxing a bit after hearing my answer.

"What about you? Last time I heard you and Ginny are engaged?" I took an unnoticed gulp.

He chuckled at that, "Oh no, you're way behind on the news. We broke it off a long time ago. It wasn't working. We kept arguing and bringing the worst out of each other."

Oh. He's single.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, I was really happy when I heard about the engagement. I thought you two would've already been married by now.."

He shrugged, "Thinking back now I think I was a little rushed, I'm not ready to be married just yet. Not when I've not gotten the right one." he looked straight at me with a warm smile that managed to make my heart go 'badump'.

"Anyway, what are we both doing here when we could dance while drinking firewhiskey." he broke off the tension, "Dance with me?"

He stretched out his hand and bowed down a bit, smirking up at me and waiting for me to take his hand. What a dork. I laughed and took his hand then he lead me to the dance floor. While we were dancing, he got us both a glass that floated itself to our hands.

I ended up spending the rest of the party with him. Dancing, drinking, laughing, telling stories, everything. It felt like we were both fifteen year olds again, too nervous to label our relationship, but knowing how we felt towards each other deep down.

"How are Sirius and Remus, by the way? Haven't seen them in a very long time." he asked while the party slowly started to die down.

"They're very well. I plan to go home for the new years, you could join me if you'd like." I widened my eyes a few seconds after realizing what I had said, I think the drunkness is slowly getting to me.

"I mean not like....you know. I mean you said you haven't seen them in a long time, so I thought maybe if you would...I don't know—"

He bursts out laughing at how I panicked, "Hey, relax! I wasn't thinking anything like that. I would love to join you, message me about the date and stuff. It'll be fun."

He conjured a piece of paper and a pen then wrote something on it then giving it to me, "Here's my number."

I took it and stared at it, realizing that I indeed did not have his number ever since I got a phone. I smiled and nodded at him, putting the paper in my purse. After another hour, we decided that it was enough partying. So we walked around to try and find Pansy to inform her that we were heading out.

"Y/N/N, there you are! I was looking all over for—oh...I see." Pansy said once we found her, smirking at the both of us, "Had fun?"

"Yeah, the party was a lot of fun. Thanks, Pans. We're going to head out now, I can't have any more drinks or I can't go home." I chuckled.

She continued smirking at us, "Uh huh. Stay safe you two, drive home safely."

After that, we both head on out and was met with the quiet cold air instead of the loud party music once again. I was freezing cold, I shouldn't have put my coat in the car. Harry seemed to notice as he started to take off his own coat.

"Here, wear this." he wrapped his coat around my body and stood there as if he's not freezing to death.

"What about you? I have my own coat, it's just in my car." I said but he just shook his head.

"It's alright, just bring it back to me when we go to your dads for the new years. I'm not that cold anyways."

I chuckled and held onto the coat tighter, "Thank you, Harry. Really. Thank you for hanging out with me at the party as well."

He smiled, "No worries. Truthfully, I wanted to talk to you ever since you stepped in. I saw when you just arrived, but I didn't say anything."

He paused for a few seconds and gulped before continuing, "I just wanted to say that you look extremely pretty tonight. You've always looked pretty, honestly. And uhm...I'm really glad I got to see you again tonight."

I tried so hard not to blush, but it probably wouldn't even show because my cheek and nose were already red from the cold, "I'm really glad I got to see you too, Harry."

We then said goodbye to each other and started to walk our separate ways to our own cars, but then he took my hand and turned me around before giving me a light kiss on the cheek.

"Sorry, couldn't let you leave without doing that." he said quietly.

I stood there, shocked. Smiling shyly and didn't do anything but nod my head slowly, "Alright, bye for now...Get home safe." he said as he walked away and waved.

I kept staring at him until I saw him apparate. I touched my cheek and couldn't help but smile widely. I don't know what in Merlins name just happened but whatever it is, I'm glad I came to this Christmas reunion party.

#harry james potter x reader #harry james potter #harry potter #wolfstar!daughter!reader #pansy parkinson #hogwarts #christmas #new years #harry potter series

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