#made me laugh way harder than it should have

[bedouinpoet]

leader, lover, sir, and broken dream part 3

Aaron Hotchner x female BAU Reader

warning: 18+ only please smuttt 🫣, unprotected sex, public play, mentions of murder, drug use, theft and loss. final part of this story line hopefully more to come! Always open to suggestions please feel free to comment or message me.

PART 3 AND FINALE: CHOICE

you woke up to the sound of a phone ringing, Hotch’s phone

“Aaron”

your mouth is dry, you tap his chest that your head is still laying on, “hmm?” His eyes stay closed with a glint of a smile on his lips, and for a moment you just look at him, his peaceful demeanour, his sexy bed hair “are you staring perv?” You scoff but damn his morning voice is already getting you wet, you laugh “I’m not the one already hard” you look down and slowly tease his cock already getting you wet how good it looked “mmmm fuck y/n yes”

his eyes roll back and you start to pump him harder. When his phone went off again “ughhhhhh someone’s calling you agent hotchner” you kiss his cock before he gets up…”hurry back” he kisses your forehead “just get that pretty mouth ready” you smirk up at him “yes sir” he goes to the sofa to get his phone from his pants. You lay in bed unable to control your smile, your happiness. That wall around your heart is starting to break but then you hear Hotch on the phone “hey sweetie sorry uh it was just a long night. Can I call you back in a minute?”

Beth

how could you forget about Beth. Your smile fades at the realization of what you both did. Your happiness turns to a painful guilt and the walls stay strong. You sit up and start to feel overwhelmingly vulnerable in your naked state, you quickly put your sweater on and a pair of sweats on. Your heart pounding in your ear as you hear Aaron come back in your room “y/n?” “that was Beth wasn’t it?” You keep your back to him, terrified to even look at him, fear the tears will start and not stop, but you try to stay strong, resolute “y/n sweetheart I -“

“it’s fine….i…I don’t expect anything from you, I pushed it last night, drunk and high…it’s fine I don’t….i just thought… I don’t know” before you react you’re in his arms and the dam breaks, you start hitting his chest, push him away, crying, but he keeps you firm in his arms, against his chest, kissing your head, his voice shaky “no no no honey, baby that’s not it high or not I meant it, I love you, I’ve always loved you it’s just-fuck-“ he shakes his head

“it’s just you love Beth too”

you finally push away and find yourself holding your arms, turning away from his tear filled eyes. “Y/n please I don’t want to stop being with you-I just got you back, maybe -I don’t know”

you roll your burning eyes “maybe what Hotch? I’m not the other woman, not the mistress and you’re not that kind of guy, it would eat you up inside, it would break you…I love you too but I can’t, I won’t let us become something we aren’t. You found something good with Beth, something simple and good and I’m -“

I’m too fuccked up, too much, not good enough

Is all you can think, almost ready to say it but your cries get in the way as you see Hotch’s tears stream down his face, that just makes you cry worse “I’m not gonna ruin what you have…you should go Hotch, go call Beth back, pick up jack just go please !” He tries to step towards you to bring you back into his arms but you step back “I want to be alone!” Your cries become stifling and he clearly wants to say something but your pleading worked. He takes a shaky breath “I’ll- I’ll text you later, we need to talk about it please y/n I’ll give you your space”

“don’t bother there’s nothing to talk about you’re with Beth and I’m not your slut now get out”

he doesn’t answer, or can’t, you hear him get dressed and close the front door. The moment the door clicks shut you drop to your knees and craw to the bed, crying, wondering how much more your heart can take. But you knew you made the right choice. You love Hotch more than words could say but being his side woman would eat you both up inside. So you cry. And try to forget last night and the pain and desires that are seeping through every ounce of your body and heart.

…

The first few months were torture for you. Everyday you worked by Aaron Hotchner his professionalism increased as did his coldness towards you. He rarely called you by name and he made sure to pair you off with anyone but him. His eyes rarely met yours. Maybe this was best. Easier for both of you. Or at least for him…for you this was painful, each cold shoulder, every time he refused to be in the same room with you. It chipped away at you.

You were doing your paperwork, in your home office. Hotch took a couple days off to take Jack to New York to see Beth. You genuinely hope they are having fun. They both need and deserved this…but apparently not as much of a break as you thought when Pen calls “hey what’s up?”

“Hi pretty lady, Hotch needs us ASAP in New York. We’ll talk deets on the jet” you feel your heart drop and you almost choke with worry. You rush with your go bag your pounding fear consuming you.

“Is he okay? What happened? Just tell me he and Jack are ok and safe Pen” your mind runs and sprints to worse case scenario “he’s fine y/n its his brother Sean”

Now your heart pounds for a different person, another Hotchner boy. You haven’t seen Sean since you and him went out for coffee….after he slept over at your place….welp….this is going to be interesting and you dread the awkwardness to come…

The moment you land, you head to the club Sean worked at, while Morgan and JJ go to the club aka the newest murder site. Blake goes with Reid to build some kind of preliminary profile and triangulate the clubs to see the unsubs comfort zone. You and Rossi both agreed that he should stay with Hotch. He is gonna need a lot of support in this. You meet the sleeze bag manager Thane and try to get answers as he tries to get in your pants “Did you know the victim well? Mister…”

“Thane just Thane please”

he winks at you and every part of you wants to punch this guy in the stomach as he clearly undresses you with his eyes obviously.

”you know…when this whole terrible business is done…I’d be happy to give you a VIP spot in my club for the night….i’ll show you a great time”

he caresses your arm and you slap it away “how about instead….” You lean in to whisper to him and you spot how excited he gets “you show me the bathroom the victim bled from her eyes and ears from huh?” He shudders at the mention of the incident and you wonder if that’s guilt or disgust, when your disgust towards this guy turns into excitement when you hear-

“I’ll show her Thane don’t worry”

Sean….you could recognize that voice anywhere damn these Hotchner men and and their hot ass voices that get you going. You turn to see Sean smiling at you brightly despite alll the loss and horror he had seen the last few weeks, he smiled like he was genuinely excited to see you and it was nice to feel so wanted. You smile “thanks that would be great” the moment Thane leaves you and Sean walk together to the woman’s bathroom and you nudge his arm and smile “its good to see you Sean…” you see his breath hitch as you look up to him and he smiles a shy cutest smile as he looks at you with those heavenly blue eyes “you too y/n …I didn’t know if you’d be happy to see me or-“

”of course I’m glad to see you hun…I’m sorry its been so long just when you had a girlfriend I- “

you see the hurt in his eyes and you wanna beat yourself up so you try to change the subject “so…tell me what happened don’t hold anything back”

Sean tells you the whole thing but you can tell he’s holding back as you both stand by the last stall where apparently her and Thane were making out “we figured she needed some air so we took her outside and that’s when she … welll….you know” he’s lying, you can tell, and something tells you she probably died in the bathroom but that cocky manager didn’t want to be connected in any way. ���Okay so be honest here….she was clearly drugged with acid and some other substance….is there a chance your manager could have slipped her the acid in her drink or something?” He scoffs unexpectedly with absolute hatred “yea…there’s a chance and likely, he’s done it before but never like this, I don’t think he did it this time, he was genuinely shook up” you can tell the dislike for this guy seeps through Sean but then you consider what he says “wait he’s done it before though? And you didn’t do anything about it?” Your attitude that you usually reserve for Hotch starts to come out as he rolls his eyes at you “and what was I supposed to do y/n? I need this job” his voice starts to raise to match your attitude “so you just let these girls get drugged as your boss takes advantage and gets his rocks off!?” You feel your cheeks heating with red hot anger and your dislike for Thane only solidifying “what!? You’re blaming me now? For fuck sakes I have done something! He swore he stopped pulling that shit! I need this job, everyone does here, we don’t have the luxury of a government job ya know? No one can say anything to Thane so I don’t need your judgement agent-“ his sarcasm and anger with “agent” reminds you of Hotch during your past arguments and it makes you want to throw up. Your blood boils and you step closer as he does the same. You’re about to say something when you see the pain in his eyes and remember what Hotch told you…Sean…he’s suffered enough and lost a woman he loves because of this.

“I’m …I’m sorry Sean. It’s just been long day…I’m not judging you I promise and-“ you take one of his hands in yours and once again you notice his breath hitch and those blue eyes darken “and I’m sorry Sean…Hotch told me that one of the girls killed was your girlfriend. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. I’m so sorry and if you need anything or want to talk I’m here for you okay?”

You don’t know what came over you as you feel the seconds in silence pass by heavily but as he smiles gratefully at you, he rubs his thumb on your knuckle, looking at your eyes and then your lips. Maybe it was the moment of vulnerability….maybe because he reminds you so much of his brother and how long it’s been since you’ve gotten any action but he suddenly grabs your waist with one hand with his other hand still holding yours and without a thought his lips are in yours and fuck is it good to kiss someone. you haven’t since that night with Aaron and at this point you need this. You kiss back roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and deepening it. His tongue already playing with yours as you bite his bottom lip and he moans in your mouth as he starts to squeeze your breasts as he kisses your neck “fuck….yes” you moan as he lifts you onto the sink counter, fitting himself comfortably between your legs and you lower your hand from his hair down to his pants as you palm his hardness through his jeans, his breath quickens as he groans your name and he thrusts into your hand, desperate for more. He grabs your thigh harder trailing his hand up to unbuckle your pants. Without hesitation you wiggle out of your pants as you unbutton Sean’s shirt, kissing his neck and biting “fuck! Yes yes y/n fuck I missed you and your bites” you both laugh “then prove it-“

“What?” He groans

“fuck me like you missed me” you smirk up at him and his eyes are almost all black you could barely see a hint of blue as he groans “fuuuck” he growls and unzips his pants and your already wet for him as he teases your entrance with his tip “damn you’re so wet baby” before you could reply he thrusts in you so hard you feel him in your cervex like a jack hammer and you both moan in unison as he fills you so nicely “fuck yes harder Sean!” As he thrusts in you upwards hitting that spot that makes your legs shake damn these hotchner men and knowing your body so well. You already feel your stomach constrict and your pussy clenches his cock as your climax is at the edge of peaking

“fuck! Yes! Cum for me y/n baby cum for me” as he nibbles your ear to your neck, his pace non stop as he chases his high too and with that final order that sounds too familiar you lose yourself and cum you feel Sean not close behind as he slams his hand on the mirror behind you groaning “fuuuuuck”

you wrap your arms around his neck “its okay…you can cum in me” the shock in his eyes was momentary as it turns to lustful darkness as his pace goes even harder “you-are you sure?”

He asks breathlessly and all you can say is “please” and with that plea Sean loses all control and thrusts so deep inside you, you feel like you feel him in your stomach as he releases. You hug each other breathlessly as he kisses your neck “I definitely missed that” he whispers and you can’t help but laugh “me too” when you feel his phone vibrate and dread overtakes you when you see the name “Aaron” with a picture of him and Jack “shit. It’s Aaron he said he’s gonna want to see me at the station” you start to dress and fix yourself up

”I’ll come with you. I got everything I could from here. Plus we can get some coffee-“ you wink and stick your tongue out “on you of course….gotta show me that New York hospitality” and his laugh breaks through all the pain you’ve been feeling, only for a moment, but its better then nothing “sure thing I’ll drive…”

…

you step into the station, your iced coffee and his coffee with two milk and two sugar in hand. Laughing together until you notice Aaron glaring at you “uh oh problem with big bro. I better go see him…”

“yea I should go help with the profile” before you walk away you hug Sean and whisper “take it easy on your bro and remember everything he asks you is out of care and is needed” he nuzzles his face into your neck for a moment “ill try to keep that in mind….hey y/n?”

”hmm?”

“Could I see you later?” He whispers in your ear and you can’t help but blush at the proximity and as you release each other and look in Hotch’s direction you spot the darkness and heated anger in Hotch’s eyes. You smile smugly at him and wave “sure I’ll text you” and you go your separate ways smiling at Hotch as his eyes don’t stop following you. And you can’t help but feel smug at the obvious jealousy you’ve caused ‘good. After all the bullshit he’s put me through’ you think before Reid and Blake tell you about the geographical profile.

….

you all head to the hotel, Hotch deciding its best to leave Jack at Beth’s during the case. Sean insisted on helping and seeing what information he could get out of Thane via recording him and going undercover. You shoot Sean a text as you get your room key from Hotch and you all head to the elevator

y/n: hey just got my room, wanna come? Can help prep for tommorow ;)

less then a minute later

Sean: Sounds perfect I’ll bring you your iced coffee as a token of my appreciation ;)

”oh ho ho I know that smile….our y/n has some one special” you hear Morgan and you quickly put away the phone as you notice Hotch, Morgan, Reid and Blake looking at you in the elevator. You scoff “nope-just a friend”

“come on now pretty girl you can tell me…have some fun planned?”he winks and you playfully roll your eyes “oh honey you couldn’t handle the fun I’m into” with that the door opens and you all head to your respective rooms. You quickly take a shower, shave, and put your admittedly purposefully sexy lace black bra and panties, your shorts that leaves little to the imagination with your curves and your baggy sweater you’ve had for years since high school graduation.

Knock knock knock

You run to the door without hesitation excitedly opening the door “hey that was quick! I expect that iced coffee as perfect as a French cafe and-“ your heart stops in your throat when you see Hotch, tussled hair, loose tie “wha- Hotch?” You’re confused why he’s so speechless when you remember what your wearing and blush as his eyes roam over your body like you are his favourite meal

“Hotch….whats up?”

Your confusion turns to worry when he finally talks “I just. I just wanted to check in on you and thank you for coming to help me and Sean-“ you could tell there is obviously more he wants to say when

“shit” you whisper

”uhhh Aaron?” Sean steps up with two coffees in hand and the silence makes you want to crawl under your blanket and disappear “Sean? What are you doing here?” Sean looks at you for some signal of what you want him to say but at the moment you’re confused and speechless so Sean exhales deeply “uh y/n just wanted. To help prep me for tomorrow-“

“I told you I’d prep you tomorrow? If you were nervous why not tell me?” There is clear hurt in his tone and it breaks your heart you try and ease the tension “I invited him and offered to pre prep plus I wanted more coffee when have I ever denied free coffee? Plus wanted to catch up we became friends after he visited you in Quantico I wanted to know how you were as a big bro he wanted to know How you were as a boss….turns out not a huge difference” you wink at him and you feel the tensions ease slightly “come in Sean…I’ll see you tomorrow Boss…say hi to Beth and Jack o lantern” and you guiltily close the door on Aaron Hotchner, a piece of your heart breaks with it. Maybe it was seeing Aaron so vulnerable and messy like that, that made you flashback to that night or the reminder that he is probably with Beth right now made you want and need a distraction and here one was in the image of a hot, longing, Sean Hotchner. And you spent that night being distracted over and over and over again. By the end you were so sore you couldn’t get up. And you don’t want too, so you stay under the blankets curled up against Sean’s heat.

2:30 am in the warmth of Seans arms as he gently kisses your shoulder neck cheek lips. You smile back at him “I think you broke me. How am I supposed to work tomorrow?” He laughs in the nape of your neck mid kiss “I Take that as a compliment baby “ you love the sound of that Hotchner laugh its contagious, heart filling, and for you, breaking. But for the first night in a long time you fell asleep peacefully….You wake to banging at your door. Your immediate reaction was to reach for your gun when you hear Aaron’s voice

“y/n its me”

Hotch’s authoritative tone through the door demanding you to open the door but fuck your legs are so sore. Sean casually kisses your shoulder and with his morning voice he rasps “don’t worry I got it” he gives you one more kiss then puts his pants on, remaining shirtless. You quickly check your phone….its only 6:30 what the fuck is he doing here so early? You slowly sit up as Sean opens the door and for a moment Hotch stands in utter shock looking back and forth between his brother and you. Naked you. You lift the blanket to your chest trying to cover yourself, trying to hide your blushes. The shock turns into a mix of anger, and something else you can’t quite place other than dominant possessive-ness and it makes you quiver “just friends huh?” Before either of you could say anything Hotch continues “I was looking for you Sean you don’t believe in answering your phone? Go back to your place, change into your work clothes then meet me at the station so we can set you up…now Sean” before he could protest Sean notices the same thing you did in his older brothers eyes. The look that was best not to push right now

“right just have to get dressed” he quickly puts his shirt on and gives you a quick kiss “I’ll see you later-“ you smile at his kiss and nod. Noticing Hotch standing at the door, the whole time. He lets Sean pass through…barely. And you think he is going to follow him but instead he steps into your room and slams the door shut, the suddenness makes you start and as he stands at the foot of your bed. Eyes deadly on you. You notice just how naked you are and try and stay as under the blanket as possible as he notices your lace lingerie thrown on the floor. Hotch’s eyes turn damn near black as he repeats his prior question “just friends huh?” You swallow. You’ve never been scared of Aaron Hotchner but right now your legs shake from fear and and from how much those eyes turn you on

”well?”

“Hotch I-“

he rolls his eyes and his voice booms “for fuck sakes stop calling me hotch like we are talking about work right now”

”fine…Aaron- me and Sean, we are friends….just with some benefits and -“

”And what!? Friends with benefits with my brother? Out of anyone, my brother!?”

You admittedly see where the upset is coming from but at the same time, now you feel yourself getting pissed. What right does he have to decide who you sleep with? Especially when he is in a whole ass RELATIONSHIP with Beth.

“Would it matter if it was someone else? You act like you wouldn’t be pissed if another random dude answered, we both know you’d still be all pissy!”

Hotch’s face tells you all you need to know. You’re right. “That’s not the Point-“

“that’s exactly the point! Fuck Aaron what do you want from me!? You gett pissed off when I fuck someone else, when I hug someone else when I tease someone else when I flirt…you broke up with me Hotch! Remember? You broke my heart. So I can’t be with you…I can’t be with anyone else what the fuck do you want?” He scoffs even while his eyes start to fill with tears and pain “so it’s either co workers or my BROTHER!? Can’t be anyone else? Maybe the issue is your choice in-“

“Don’t you dare! You have lost the privilege to have any say in who I fuck. And I’m gonna keep fuckin whosoever I want until you man up and choose me or make your choice and stick to it. Cause right now you have no right Aaron Hotchner” you got up off the bed and stop close to him Butt naked but you don’t care even as your voice shakes, your nakedness clearly having an affect on Hotch as you see his growing bulge that just gives you the confidence you need to continue “make your choice Aaron Hotchner. Then talk to me, until then….you can leave so I can get dressed, meet you at the station hotch this conversation is over don’t worry about waiting for me Sean can pick me up” you turn to get your stuff from your bag and you hear Hotch stomp out of the room, slamming the door behind him. No tears this time. You said what you need to say. Now it’s his move, his choice.

….

3 months passed since that conversation in your hotel room. The case ended less then satisfactory. Sean arrested for stealing and selling a couple boxes of the tainted whine (without his knowledge that the wine was poisoned he just needed the money) but with the help of Hotch and yourself assisting and speaking for him in his trial, he got a few months prison sentence then community service. You visit him when you can. Despite everything you and Sean really were friends and decided it was best to stay that way. He reminded you too much of Hotch and it wasn’t fair for him to fuck him because of it. Since the case Hotch went from overly professional to just plain cold avoidng you at all costs ‘guess he made his choice’ you think. It’s 3 months passed with this coldness, right now you needed a distraction and you just want to go out with some friends. Pen and Reid and Morgan to the rescue. Morgan drove you all to some bar and on your second round you are all laughing and talking and dancing when you receive a text from the last person you’d expect

Hotch: where are you?

y/n: um out? Why? is there a case?

you check to see if anyone got a text as well? Heard of a case but everyone shakes their heads “sounds like someone’s in trouble? That’s what happens when you decide to stall on paper work” you flip Morgan off before he laughs off to the dance floor…you laugh and shake your head about to put your phone down when it dings

Hotch: your apartment. now.

at first you just laugh at the audacity and ignore him until he texts again

Hotch: please y/n….i need to talk to you face to face

you roll your eyes in frustration but he hasn’t spoken to you in months, now this? It must be important. You give everyone a hug goodbye and order an uber. When you get to your apartment you think your eyes must be deceiving you when the elevator opens and you see THE Aaron Hotchner sitting in front of your door. Wearing nothing but Sweats and t shirt…he’s never left his home so underdressed you start to worry somethings happened…”Hotch? What’s wrong?” The moment you talk his eyes dart up and he quickly stands, you smile as he fixes himself “yea-I just….we need to talk, can we please go inside?” You nod your head and make quick use of your keys to unlock your door. Hotch less than a step away. You enter and he closes the door behind you both

”want something to drink? Water? Coffee?” You notice the bags under his eyes. His grey sweats loose. His black shirt tight. Deadly combination “uh water please” you quickly get him a cup and yourself “so…what-“

“You”

“what?”

”you told me to make my choice and I did…you, y/n its always been you”

”but Beth-“

“we broke up. She got a job in Hong Kong and I told her she should take it, it was mutual” time feels like it stopped. Like the earth stopped moving. He takes your silence anxiously so he nervously continues “I haven’t done right by you. I’ve regretted the day I ended it since I said those words and I wont make excuses but I’m so tired of us going back and forth y/n I want you I-i-i love you, I need you. I want to be with you. I want you to be with me, no one else, I can’t sleep, the very idea of someone else with you eats me up. Everyday I couldn’t hug you, kiss you, be there for you broke me. No more back and forth…if-that is-if you’ll have me still- I’m all in baby all yours I miss you and so does Jack and-“ you feel every scar on your heart heal, the walls crash down and all you can do is laugh

“Aaron Hotcher stop talking and kiss me already-“

you can see the stress, the nervousness, the pain evaporate from his face and he smiles at you with such love and longing you feel you could fly, a smile you haven’t seen in too long and damn have you missed it. With two steps his body is flush with yours and he kisses you like he’s craved you all theses years, like he needs you, he kisses you like a man starved of your lips, you’re the only cup of water in a desert, and you do the same. You wrap your arms around his neck and gasp as he grabs your ass he takes your gasp as his opening and his tongue is in your mouth intertwining with your own, messy, sloppy, and so fucking hot. His tongue grazes your teeth before he bites your bottom lip hard and you moan in his mouth before releasing you, his gaze makes you melt as he caresses your cheek “i missed you so much” you smirk up at him “prove it…sir” his eyes darken and you feel his hand graze down to your neck gently wrapping around your neck and tightening his grip as you feel your panties soak “oh I intend to sweetheart and this time I’m never letting go, i want to own you and you own me baby”

his hold on your neck tightens and you feel the wetness stick to your panties “good….own me sir and once you do…no more pushing me away Aaron-“ you grasp his shirt collar and his hands lower to your waist “promise me Aaron” he looks at you desperately and you realize the power you hold. Tonight you want to take control. You move his hands and step back. Confusion and half whimper fills his face…you strip slowly before he could talk and his eyes turn black as he licks his lips he reaches for you but you smile and back away “nope. You don’t get to touch me until you promise me Aaron Hotchner. No more pushing me away” his eyes turn loving, he smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world for him “I promise y/n” he slowly stalks towards you like a predator after its prey as he grabs your waist his hands slowly exploring your body, every touch like fire, such a good fire

”I’m all yours baby no more pushing you away….please just forgive me”

his desperation evident and you kiss his neck, you take off his shirt and your hands gently touch every scar on Hotch, his breath hitches and he groans as you start to kiss his scars you look up at Aaron “there is nothing to forgive, you’re here now. We’re together, that’s all that matters” your kisses and touches deepen as you kiss right above the band of his sweats, his hard on evident as you’re on your knees Aarons eyes darken as he moans at your every touch “p-please y/n” his pleading is the hottest sound and you slowly push his sweats down kissing on top of his boxers “I want to be in control tonight Aaron, at least for a bit” he gently touches your cheek and nods “of course babe I’m all yours take me and what ever control you need” with that you quickly stand up

“what are you-“

”I want you in my bedroom” he laughs and takes your hand as you lead him to your room the door closes and you push him to your bed, he sits at the edge and growls as he grabs you close to him, you stand up and put your hands through his hair, his head following your hands like a dance as his eyes roll back and moans as you pull his hair “you’re killing me baby”

you giggle “it’ll be worth it” you lightly pull his hair again as he kisses your breast when you pull his hair he bites at your nipple, “Aaron yes!’ You moan grasping tighter at his hair making him grown as he kisses down your body, biting and leaving bruises…he’s marking you…he’s owning you. Without a thought before you could react Aaron grabs you and lays you down on the bed like you’re a rag doll and he’s on his knees in front of the bed, he pulls you closer, your legs on his shoulder looking up at you for permission feeling his hot breath on your heat already drives you crazy all you could do was nod repeatedly, desperately and with that he smiles and his tongue drags from your entrance to your clit over and over, he teases your entrance with one of his thick fingers, as his tongue makes work with your clit, sucking then using his tongue on your clit you already start seeing stars as his finger enter and then the second, his pace relentless as he curves his fingers up hitting the sponge that makes you see stars as your about to cum your legs shake “that’s right sweetheart cum for me-“ he sucks and lightly nips your clit licking your pussy over and over, your legs shake as you pull his hair for some kind of support as the coil snaps and you clench his fingers, cumming all over them. Hotch fingers you through your orgasm and licks you clean removing his fingers and quickly sucking the rest of your wetness from his fingers. Fuck you need him.

“Aaron fuck me now” he laughs darkly like he was just waiting for you to say that. He quickly goes on top of you and your legs open for him, his body the perfect fit for you. You find the anticipation of feeling him stretch you too much and you move your hips higher just to feel him. He smirks at you pushing you’re waist down “tsk tsk tsk so needy” you start to pout “heyyyy I was supposed to take control today remember”

you whine, both of you knowing dam well he’s in control but right now you need to get fucked you need Aaron “of course sweetheart you’re in control” he winks at you and kisses you as he adjusts himself to your entrance. You stop him “I wanna ride you” his eyes emulate the growl he lets out as he swiftly switches both of you like its nothing, his hand grabbing your waist bruisingly harsh as you grind his cock, loving the friction “fuck y/n how are you so fucking hot” you giggle and blush “you want me sir?” He groans as you continue to grind and tease him your hands on his chest supporting yourself, it feels so good as he nods “yes yes yes y/n fuck I need you”

”mmm beg me sir”

you lick your lips as his grip on your waist tightens causing a hot pain you can’t get enough of “p-please y/n I need to feel your pussy baby fuck-“ you can’t take it you need this just as badly you adjust Aaron to your entrance and without warning he pulls your waist down and you feel every inch slam into your pussy filling you and stretching he hisses as you moan and both of you groan as you ride him “fuck y/n” his eyes roll back as you ride him like your life depends on it. Raising yourself till just the tip is in you and he grabs your waist again slamming you down over and over as you scream and your vision almost fades as his hand begins to move to rub your clit his callused thumb relentless and you feel you might black out with how sensitive your clit feels “that’s it baby cum on me like a good girl” his thumb doesn’t stop even as you grab his hand and that coil snaps as you cum on him “fuuuuck” he growls guttural as you moan his name over and over like a mantra, your head feels dizzy when he grabs you down hugging you to him as he bites your neck and thrusts up to you harder and harder relentlessly you moan and scream his name “that’s it baby, scream my name scream who owns you”

“y-y-you do sir…AARON!” He growls as his pace feels like he is skewering you as he chases his own high and you feel him unravell as he thrusts his seed as deep in you as possible “y/n!” He yells your name and for a moment you both just stay like that in each others arms, breathing, panting, you still feel dizzy. Aaron gently kisses your neck and shoulder all the places he left bruises. He gently moves you laying you down and he goes to the bathroom. Hotch comes back with a warm wash cloth, he gently cleans you up and you can barely move as you raise your arm, pouting, begging for cuddles, he throws the cloth to the side and covers both of you as he puts you in his arms. You face each other as he caresses your arms and face

”I love you”

his gaze never wavering, making you blush, you thought you’d never see that look again, hear those words again. You trail your hand on his chest, then his cheek “I love you so much Aaron” you lightly punch his arm

”ow what’s that for?” He laughs pretending that it hurt

“That! Was for pushing me away!” You smile as you kiss him deeply and he moans in gladness in your mouth “mmm and what was that for??”

“That’s for coming to your senses” he laughs and hugs you “always baby” and with that, you sleep in his arms. Falling asleep with the man of your heart. Realizing that all those problems was worth it because now you’re here, together, against the world.

The End

[typicalopposite]

and for my last mpreg update here is chapter one of the Omega Tommy fic!

rejected

chapter one: sick over you

(also posted on ao3)

The rain is pouring down, and with the tears flooding from his eyes Tommy can barely see the road ahead of him as he speeds away from Evan’s apartment building. Perhaps coming by unannounced had been stupid. Even still, he hadn’t expected… that to be the reaction he received. Not that he doesn’t think it’s the reaction he deserves, but to hear Evan’s voice— raised in anger and filled with disgust— tell him to get out of his life; it hurt in a way nothing has ever hurt him before. 

He feels numb.

Numb like he felt at his mother’s funeral. Numb like he felt every time his father lifted a hand to him. Numb like he felt when some random alpha made an off handed comment in his direction. Numb like he felt when came home and caught Liam— his ex-mate… the one he’d thought was his true mate— in bed with another. Numb like he felt when their bond had broken; Liam had gotten them pregnant, that creates a stronger bond than any mere mating bite ever could… Another had given Liam what Tommy had longed to— what Tommy has always longed for… but was told he could never have. 

The tears come harder; the rain picks up. 

He had been told he would never carry a child of his own. It was not meant to be. Liam had held him as he cried, at least until he got Tommy home… Then his anger reared its head. Useless! That's what he had called Tommy. A disgrace. 

Broken… 

Broken… 

Broken… 

“Guess I’m not so broken after all,” Tommy laughs out loud. The words are bitter… their meaning heavy. Too heavy. Tommy fears it might be crushed by their weight. 

Two days ago he couldn’t shake the feeling any longer. 40 years and he has never missed a heat. 40 years and he has never felt so sluggish and off. He knew well before the doctor confirmed it. “Congratulations, Mr. Kinard… you’re pregnant.”

He sat with those words for two whole days; mulling over what he should do. 

He knew what he had to do. He was just unsure of how to do it. He had left, after all. He told Evan they were through and ran away before Evan could get too close… oh how Tommy had wanted to let Evan get close anyway. He hadn’t felt a pull towards anyone since he lost his bond with Liam… Then he met Evan. 

The pull he felt towards Evan was so much stronger than anything he’d ever felt towards Liam. It was so powerful, so intense, so real… Too real… and he had to break it before Evan wanted something more… something he couldn’t give him. 

Except he could… it seems. 

So he had to swallow his pride— and his fear— and he had to tell him. 

He decided he would go beg Evan’s forgiveness, then tell him the news, and hope it would be enough. He hoped Evan could forgive him, and would love him despite his actions. He hoped Evan could love him like he knew Evan would love their child. 

But Evan didn’t give him a chance to speak…

“No,” he’d said, eyes red rimmed and misty like he’d been crying some time before Tommy showed up at his door. “No. I get to talk now.” Tommy gave a sharp nod and let Evan talk. Boy, did Evan talk. “You don’t get to disappear from my life, then just show back up and cry your way back into it Tommy.” 

“I- I wasn’t…” Tommy tried, but Evan shot him an angry glare and his mouth snapped shut. 

“I wanted a future with you,” Evan said. “I saw a future with you… and you left. You— You didn’t even give me a good reason… you just left. You didn’t care about how that would make me feel, all you cared about was how you didn’t want me to make you feel, in some unforeseen future you decided— on your own— that we were heading towards. Do you know how long I spiraled because of that?” 

Tommy stared at him, knowing he must look like a deer in headlights— he honestly hadn’t expected to learn Evan had spiraled from the break up at all. Been sad, sure, moped around for a short while, maybe… but to know he spiraled… over Tommy? He cared that much for Tommy? “Evan, if you would just let me explain—”

“I waited, Tommy…” Evan interjects. “For months, I waited. You bubbled me and I—” he scoffs, wiping roughly at one eye as a tear slips free. “I held on to hope you would finally just send the damn message. Or call. Or— I don’t know— do something. But you didn’t.”

Tommy hung his head. “I know…” he said softly. “I— I’m sorry. But… I’m— I’m here now…”

“Now?” Evan huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Now… is too late.”

Tommy heard the words, but they did register until Evan asked him to leave. “L- Leave?” Tommy felt his bottom lip trembling, his heart began to race. 

“Yes, Tommy. Leave. Please.” 

“B- But I— I have to tell you…”

“Dammit Tommy, I don’t care, okay?” Tommy flinches at the rise in Evan’s voice. “You had your chance to come around. You didn’t. I said it’s too late, I meant it. So go... Leave.” 

Tommy blinked. He was… shocked? No, not really… Hurt? Well he did it to himself, didn’t he. 

Rain pelts against the windshield; his wipers, even on full blast, can’t keep up. His tears haven’t stopped flowing since he— partially lost in a daze— backed out of Evan’s loft, turned and bolted towards the elevator. The sound of the door slamming caused him to jolt as he frantically pressed the button. He hits a pocket of water and the truck hydroplanes. It doesn’t scare him in and of itself, he knows how to control his vehicle, but it’s enough to make him pull over and either calm down or wait out the storm. 

With his truck safely stopped, he allows himself to cry. The cries quickly turn to sobs, and the sobs get stronger and louder until he is screaming at the top of his lungs. He is slinging his fists like a mad man, bringing them down against the steering wheel until he knows there will be bruises left behind— until he thinks he might have broken one of his pinkies… It throbs and has a large lump poking out the side. 

Only then does he stop, and just sit there, his hands sore and laid gently in his lap. He sobs until he has nothing left in him to cry out. 

Evan doesn’t want him. 

Evan doesn’t want him.

Evan doesn’t want him… anymore. 

Evan wanted a future with him and Tommy ruined it. He ruined it… ruined it… ruined it. Now he will be alone. Evan will love their child… of course he will. He is not a cruel person, regardless of how bad his words hurt… they were well deserved. But Tommy knows he won’t take his anger out on their child. 

But he won’t love Tommy.

Tommy will be alone… like it was always meant to be. 

He inhales and feels it— the moment something inside him breaks; his heart, perhaps. It lies broken inside him oozing out a sickening feeling throughout his entire body. He feels alone. He feels unloved. 

He feels… rejected.

*

The rain is pouring down and Tommy hates flying when he’s not the one at the controls. Every turbulence sends a wave of nausea through him— it doesn’t help that he is constantly nauseous anyway. He closes the shade over the window, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to focus on breathing. 

In… out… in… out… in—

“Sir,” a voice says; a hand touches his shoulder. The stewardess looks distressed as she leans over the empty seat to him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” Tommy lies, and the look she gives him makes it apparent she knows that he is. He is clammy and sweaty. He is sure his face is flushed, his pupils dilated… He can only imagine how distressed his scent is. “I’ll be okay.” Eventually? Someday? Maybe? Probably not… the woman sighs and eventually leaves. 

Have you recently separated from your mate? 

The question echoes in his memory… takes him back to days of constant sickness; unable to hold anything down and coupled with extreme fatigue— he could barely even keep his eyes open… Lucy told him if he didn’t go to the doctor she was going to drag him in by his ears. 

“My- My mate?” Tommy had responded to the question, not completely, but just confused enough that the doctor would have automatically assumed that just because he was pregnant that he was also mated. “I don’t have one.” 

His doctor— the same old crotchety man he’s seen since his adolescence— peered up at him over his glasses, then down at his midsection. He was only barely showing, but Tommy’s hand still instinctively found its way to the spot their baby was nestled. “You seem pretty mated to me,” he responded, waiting for a beat then continuing with, “Is the other parent not involved with the pregnancy?” 

Tommy stared at him long enough he didn’t need to answer. 

“Mr. Kinard, this is not extreme morning sickness you’re experiencing. It’s rejection sickness.” 

“R- Rejection… sickness— but I’m not—”

“Mated. Yes. I understand you believe that,” the doctor interjected, sounding slightly annoyed. “However, your body is saying— screaming, really— quite the opposite.” 

The plane shakes and drops in the sky and Tommy tries to ignore it by thinking of the pamphlet tucked away in his luggage. 

A nurse had handed it to him before he left the office. “Doctor Pate circled some groups you can reach out to for help.” She had said, pushing the folded paper into Tommy’s hand. “Although your best option is to just return to your mate.” She made it seem so simple. She had no idea how much it was anything but simple. He thanked her anyway and walked out. 

Two weeks later and he wasn’t getting any better. He could barely even get out of bed. The pamphlet sat on his bedside table staring at him— mocking him. 

“Maybe you should just… call him,” Lucy had suggested. Tommy groaned and shook his head, burrowing into his pillow. He heard stories of omegas getting the urge to make nests during their pregnancies. A safe space for them to cocoon inside as their bodies changed and grew the new precious life. He hadn’t had the urge to do much of anything other than sleep… and wallow. “Tommy you’re scaring me,” she said, shoving him gently so he would look up at her. “If this is rejection—”

“It’s not.” It can’t be… he thought; he hoped. 

Lucy glared at him, but the anger faded quickly. She seemed to be as exhausted as Tommy felt. “But if it is… Tommy, people die from this! It’s serious.” 

“Don’t you think I know that, Luce!” Tommy managed to snap back. “What am I supposed to do about it! He doesn’t want me!” 

Unwanted.

Unloved.

Rejected.

Maybe if he kept denying it… his body would get the memo and it would just… go away, even if he knew deep down that it wouldn't work, and the doctor was right. Evan was his mate… Bound to him by the tiny life now struggling to survive inside his broken diseased body. Evan was his mate, but he would never truly be Tommy’s; he didn’t want to be. 

The thought curdled inside him and the sour feeling spread throughout. 

The plane shakes and Lucy plops back down in her seat. “Thank god we’re almost there,” she sighs. “Fucking hate flying as a passenger.” Tommy does his best to react; he gives the weakest laugh. She doesn’t point it out, just rests her hand on his where he’s gripping the arm rest and they ride out the turbulence together. 

Lucy had been the one to suggest the trip. 

After another doctor visit, where Tommy had only shown signs of getting worse: loss in appetite, in weight, he was even losing hair. The doctor urged Tommy to reach out to his mate and Tommy finally explained the situation in its entirety. This led to the doctor giving them a major hurdle in the very definite diagnosis of mate rejection… That it no longer mattered if he called and informed Evan about the baby. His condition was so severe, if Evan truly meant what he said when sent Tommy away— if he had truly moved on and no longer wanted to be with Tommy, accepting the child would do nothing for the sickness. 

“Well we have to do something,” Lucy had said frantically. The doctor had left them with a very bleak outlook. One Tommy accepted all too easily, while Lucy refused to accept at all. She still believed going to Evan would work— she believed he was upset, and hadn’t meant what he said at all. Tommy did not believe that at all, and made her promise she wouldn’t tell him; she agreed on one condition. 

“Yea’llo,” Sal had said through the phone, and despite the heavy pout Tommy wore from being forced to call his best friend for assistance with his… situation, he smiled. He let Lucy explain, but he made her lie about who the alpha father was. (Lucy was easy to convince to keep a level head about the baby, and the Evan of it all… Sal would not be… if he could be kept level headed about it in the first place— which, probably not.)

They told Sal it was a one night stand… Tommy had no idea who the alpha was, or how to get up with him… Sal gave his spiel; he called Tommy a dumbass, then retracted it with kind words and promised to do whatever he can to help. There was never a question of whether Tommy could go to Sal’s or not, so across the US they went. 

This plan might not work. Lucy knows that… Sal knows that… Tommy knows that. In the pamphlets, it says that while it’s best to be reunited with their alpha in the case of an omega with rejection sickness, being around another alpha has been proven to help tremendously, especially one with a close bond to the omega. Lucy is a beta… she has always been so happy about the freedom that comes with it… until now. 

Sal, however, is an alpha, and the two have been best friends for as long as Tommy can remember; even when Sal and his family moved out to Virginia so he could finally get his chance at a captain’s position, they remained extremely close: visits on holidays, birthdays, or just because… Sal’s family adores Tommy. Plus being around Gina (another Omega) and the kids will likely help with the rejection sickness as well. 

Tommy feels woozy as Lucy helps him through the boarding bridge, but that can be attributed mostly to the very rough— very long— flight. He collapses down into the first seat he sees, and lets his head fall into his hands. “I’ll call Sal,” Lucy says, but before she can, what sounds like a stampede is running towards them. 

“Uncle Tommy! Uncle Tommy!!” The familiar little voices pull a smile to his face despite how awful he’s feeling. He forces his head up to see SJ and Gino coming at him like a couple missiles. Seeing two of his favorite little people makes it easy enough to smile past how rotten he feels and his arms immediately open to them; he ‘oofs’ when they ultimately collide with him. 

“Easy you two!” Sal scolds them when he finally catches up. 

“Sorry,” they both say, dipping their heads. “Uncle Tommy, Mama says you have a baby in your belly,” Gino continues, eyes wide and curious. “Is that true?” Tommy laughs weakly, and nods. “How did it get in there!?” 

“His alpha put it there!” SJ answers while Tommy panickedly looks to Sal for help. 

“Uncle Tommy has an alpha?!” 

“Is the baby a boy or girl,” SJ asks, pivoting the direction of questioning. 

“When will it be here!?” 

“What are you going to name it!?”

“Alright, alright…” Sal groans, grabbing handfuls of the backs of both boys shirts and lifting them away from Tommy. They laugh and hold their arms out like they are flying as Sal swings them around and sets them down next to Lucy. 

“Lucy!” They both excite run into her arms, nearly taking her down to the floor.  

He tries to ignore the worried look Sal is giving him when he struggles to lift his head up enough to meet his best friend's eyes. “Where are the girls,” he asks, noticing the absence of Gina and their youngest, Tori. 

“How do you think we would have gotten you back to the house if everyone came, stuck you in the back of the truck?” His sarcasm is even falling flat as he crosses his arms and furrows his brows down at Tommy. 

“Thought Gina finally talked you into a minivan,” Tommy quips back. 

“I’ll be damned if you ever see me in it…” 

“Spoken like a true macho-macho man,” Lucy laughs, still wrestling with the boys. 

They all laugh at that, until a wave of pain and nausea crashes over Tommy and he has to lean himself forward and close his eyes in an attempt to settle his stomach. He groans as softly as he can but even SJ and Gino go quiet after hearing it. “Are you okay Uncle Tommy…” SJ asks, pulling free from Lucy’s hold and walking back over to where Tommy is begging his body to calm the hell down. 

“He will be,” Sal says, resting a hand on SJ’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get going,” he adds, extending his other hand out to Tommy.

He helps Tommy to his feet and his knees start to buckle the moment his full weight is put on them. “Whoa,” Lucy yelps, and hurries to his other side. “Uhm… maybe— maybe you should try… I don’t know— scenting… or something. See if it’s going to work or— or help.” Sal shrugs and looks to Tommy for him to make the decision. 

Tommy hesitates, letting himself take in Sal’s scent at a distance first. He hates how much it is already working— how fast it is already working. He hates his stupid, weak, omega body for being so needy for it in the first place. 

“Alright, go on,” Sal says, his smug smirk finally returning as he opens his arms to Tommy; it surprisingly helps Tommy calm down about it all. “Get a good whiff so you’re not all mopey, and stinking up the truck, on the ride back to the house!” 

Tommy’s feet are moving before his brain even registers it, and he all but melts into the embrace; his nose quickly finds the scent gland and presses into it. It’s humiliating how his body forces him to draw in a deep breath. It’s also overwhelmingly relaxing, and the pins and needles he’s felt throughout his body all week almost instantly disappear. He feels a sob vibrating up and out of him before he can stop it, and he hears Lucy ushering the boys to go help her find Tommy’s luggage to give him a moment. 

“What were you thinking, T…” Sal whispers, tightening his arms around Tommy’s shoulders. 

“I wasn’t…” Tommy replies— and damn, isn’t that the truth…

Sal sighs, and pulls back to look at Tommy. His eyes are so full of worry, and maybe just a hint of anger… Thankfully it will only be towards Tommy for getting himself in this position, and not Evan for unknowingly putting him in it. “Let’s go home,” Sal says, and he has always referred to his home Tommy’s home… There have been plenty of times in their friendship Sal’s home was the only home Tommy had known. It soothes him a little more, and finally he has his bearings back enough to nod and follow Sal out of the airport. 

*

The rain is pouring down and the baby is expected any day now. 

In actuality, the baby isn’t due for a few more weeks… but as it stands, with Tommy’s sickness worsening by the day, his doctors don’t expect him to make it to his due date. He sits in his big comfy recliner, and stares out the window at the rain pelting against the ground, creating puddles in Sal and Gina’s front yard. Outside his room he can hear Sal stomping around pissily, gathering his bags and filling them with just enough for a trip to LA and back. 

He wants to stop him… to run out of his room begging and pleading with Sal to not do this— it won’t help, it’s not fair— but he can’t. He slowly moves his eyes down to his body; it’s frail and pale and too weak to do much of anything beyond sitting in his big comfy recliner, and staring wistfully out the window. 

It had been too good to be true that everything would turn out okay… too good to be true Evan could be left out of it until after the baby was born, like Tommy is sure he is going to want to be once he is told the truth. Of course good things and Tommy don’t mesh well, and he took a turn for the worse a month ago. 

Up until then Tommy was doing fine. The sickness had almost subsided completely, he was on a temporary transfer to Virginia Beach Fire Department. He could even go as far as to say him and the baby were thriving. 

Tommy started to let himself enjoy being pregnant. He loved feeling the baby kick against his hand as he told them stories, or sang them songs. He was growing more and more excited to become a papa, and when he had hard, sad days… he would be wrapped up by his family and allowed to soak in their love laced scents to get his mind back on track. 

He didn’t need an alpha— he didn’t need his alpha… He had enough. It would be enough. He would be enough… 

It almost was enough. 

It started to snowball down a very steep hill when April rolled around… 

Tommy walked into the kitchen, grabbing a strip of bacon from Sal’s plate— he snorted out a laugh as Sal grumpily swatted his hand away— Gina greeted him with a kiss to his cheek and allowed him to scoop Tori up from her arms. The routine calmness of the morning was interrupted when Sal mentioned it being a year since Tommy let Howie talk him into nearly losing his job to save Nash’s ass. 

A whole year… since he met Evan. 

Tommy stares out the window at the rain pouring down and combined with the tears filling his eyes he can barely see the Uber logo illuminated in the car windshield that comes to a stop outside the house. He hears his door creak open, and Sal’s scent fills the room as he steps inside. Tommy struggles to breathe it in and he misses the days it actually helped with the aches and pains coursing through his body, and the constant state of nausea he feels. 

“Hey,” Sal says softly, pulling up a chair to Tommy’s side. He waits for Tommy to slowly turn his head and face him, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. “Don’t look at me like that, T…” Sal says, and he reaches up to adjust the oxygen tube in Tommy’s nose, careful of the feeding tube also taped down to his cheek. Tommy can feel his lips tugging down, and he’s really not trying to make Sal feel bad— it hurts to see how much looking at Tommy like this clearly hurts Sal. 

Sal blames himself, in a way… for Tommy getting worse. Unjustifiable as it might be, Tommy knows Sal does. He had come to his room that evening— after bringing up the reunion of the cruise ship disaster— and knocked gently. He apologized through the closed door for reopening that wound; he said he thought he’d gotten over the kid, he talked about him so rarely. But Sal hadn’t known the truth behind Tommy’s silence… and that’s on Tommy. 

“Come on man, can you please open the door?” Sal had said, and he sounded so broken up. Tommy forced himself up and out of his self wallowing, dragging his feet to the door to open it. 

He was able to fake it for just a few days. Then the sickness took hold and Tommy stopped eating. He stopped sleeping… He stopped talking. He began feeling himself disassociating from the pregnancy: the kick’s brought him anguish instead of joy, the thought of giving birth to his child was overpowered by the reminder it was also Evan’s child… and Evan no longer wanted him. 

Evan had rejected him. 

His alpha had rejected him.

His mate had rejected him. 

The sickness spread so quickly no one— even the doctors— knew how to combat it. 

“I don’t understand…” he had heard Sal say outside his room. Lucy had flown in when Gina had called to inform her things had taken a turn for the worse, and now they were out there going back and forth about his condition. Tommy laid in his bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines trying desperately to keep him alive, and listened, unable to intervene or contribute at all. “He was getting better… then suddenly he’s in his feelings about that damned Buckley kid and—” Tommy listened as Sal sighed, long and deep and frustrated. “Son of a bitch…” 

“Sal—” Gina said softly, quietly… but Tommy heard her anyway. 

“Does he know…” Sal asked; Lucy didn’t respond… “What the fuck T…” Sal groaned, and Tommy stopped trying to hear the rest of the conversation. He let his eyes fall closed and allowed exhaustion to pull him into a very restless sleep. 

The outlook was so bleak. Lucy had sat beside his bed and cried as she tried to get him to eat some jello. Sal grew angrier and angrier with the situation. The younger of the kids stopped being allowed in to see him; his appearance was so haggard and ghastly it had frightened Tori and Gino… SJ chose to stop coming in on his own; he couldn’t stand to see his Uncle Tommy waste away, he’d told his mother. 

Tommy hated himself for causing the people he cared about so much despair. 

He’s pretty sure he can even pinpoint the exact moment in it all that he pushed Sal to make the decision to go get Evan. 

The night nurse hadn’t arrived yet and Tommy’s bedding needed to be changed. He tried to plead with Gina to wait— to not call Sal in to help. I’m fine, he thought… but could not force the words to come out no matter how hard he tried. He could do no more than grunt and weep, then finally just give up and let it happen. Tommy turned his eyes away, and tried to pretend he didn’t hear them both gasp at seeing him fully exposed. 

“I’m going to get that little shit and bring him here,” he heard Sal tell Gina and Lucy; no hesitation in his voice, he was very clear actually. 

“What if he refuses to come back with you…” Lucy countered. 

“Oh that’s not going to be an issue,” Sal stated very matter of factly and Tommy felt a tear slide down his face. Neither woman seemed willing to argue further, and that was that. 

Now, Tommy stares at Sal tiredly. He really wishes he could convey how much he doesn’t want him to do this. It’s not fair to Evan, Tommy thinks. It’s not his fault, he didn’t know… He blinks and the tears fall; Sal quickly swipes them away. 

“Don’t worry, you big softie… I won’t hurt him… too bad,” That gets a genuine laugh from Tommy, albeit weak. “Believe it or not I care about your hard headed ass, and don’t plan on losing you; so what good is he gonna do me in helping keep you around, if he’s dead…” Tommy gives a slow weak nod, and Sal cups the back of his neck helping him hold his head steady. “We’re gonna get you through this, okay?” 

Another nod, and Sal pats Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy watches him stand and walk to the door, notes how he quickly wipes a hand over his face before turning back towards him. He smiles and waves and Tommy uses the very limited amount of energy he has to do the same. Then Sal’s gone, and Tommy’s alone with his thoughts. 

He looks back out the window and watches Sal walk off the porch, turning to pull Gina into his arms— into a deep, passionate kiss— one more time. Tommy wishes he had that connection with someone— not someone… Evan. God he misses him. 

He feels the baby shift, and move, and brings his hand up to rest atop the taut bump. He is so tired, and as he slowly slips into unconsciousness… he just hopes Sal is right. He hopes bringing Evan actually works. 

He hopes he has the strength to make it through if it doesn’t. 

[myenterpriseisparked]

Beverly: Well, I got pregnant that night.

Jean-Luc:

[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

I didn’t have “Cherri Bomb’s original pilot VA becomes a lawyer” on my 2024 bingo card. But here we are.

[askhaley]

🤸

🏌️

WAAAUGH!

[allthebestcowgirls]

god my coworker is cool but they like constantly try to one up everything i say. i forget what exactly we were talking about but i mentioned how my family is irish and mexican and there's lots of alcoholism/ addiction. and they were like "yeah my dad's addiction is scary. he loves smoking and adds mint essential oil bc they don't sell menthols" or whatever and like um. well my dad's addiction killed him so

[brokendreamscreation]

@gctchell

//SCREAMING AND KICKING AS YOU DRAG ME TOWARDS MY NEW AGE

[thelosercenter]

i had to

[bookishjules]

[banapricot]

[possibly-pasta]

me and @ceo-of-lesbians praying to Sappho to fly us and all the other girlies to The Island of Lesbos for their big gay parties and so we can oogle the pretty ladies

[dubioushonour]

SINCE WHEN HAVE YOU BEEN CIS

Karkat I'm so sorry you had to find out this way

[nepoboyfriend]

just wanna remember this. finally i triumph over that man (thanks kc)

[awesomechocolatesauce]

@cody-hammond

"tav FORCES astarion not to ascend"

astarion after tav forced him not to ascend

[rmayuscula]

age gap autumn girl fuck you

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends? — Part Three

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel’s attempts at an apology fall short, Cassian’s advice backfires, and confrontations force both you and Azriel to face uncomfortable truths—though not the same ones.

Warnings: angst. a heavy grudge, a male incapable of owning up to his mistakes, a well-meaning but wrong-steering best friend, verbal fighting, physical fighting, brief mentions of blood

Word Count: 8.5k

this was going to be two parts but... for the drama, ive decided to offer a feast and not just a meal

Part Two | Part Four

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel hadn’t meant to let it sit for this long. 

His shadows had been needling him for days, hissing reminders at the edge of his mind: Fix this. He intended to. He just didn’t know how. There were too many eyes on him now, too many people that expected his great, grand apology. 

It was hard to focus on anything else.  Even when he was with Selene, her words barely touched him. His mind was consumed by the unease that gnawed at him, the constant pull of you, somewhere, still angry over what had happened.

Azriel wanted to ask Selene about her words. Why they’d taken root in his mind, why he’d echoed them back to you. But he didn’t. He let Selene talk, smiled when she asked for his opinion, and tried to let the softness of her lips on his drown out the unease.

He didn’t know exactly why it felt so much harder with you— felt harder to argue, felt even harder to apologize. Everything else in his life, every delicate situation, every broken, jagged thing, he could attempt to handle with steady hands. But you—every time he stepped near you lately, it felt like stepping onto unstable ground. One wrong move, and everything shifted beneath him.

His shadows had made sure to remind him, trailing after you through the house, feeding him fragments of your clipped words to Mor, the slam of a cabinet door when you thought no one was paying attention. They weren’t even subtle about it anymore, curling around his ears like smoke, whispering your whereabouts.

He’d tried small things—leaving you treats, a smoothie for breakfast, or a croissant on a plate with your name carefully written on a napkin. But every time he returned to check, they were untouched. Once, he found the croissant flattened and crumpled, as if you’d squeezed it with a tight fist before tossing it back onto the plate. His shadows confirmed you were angry that night, their murmurs suggesting no coincidence in your evening spent with Mor.

Since then, every instinct told him to stay away and retreat, to wait until he’d figured out the right thing to say instead of stumbling through this mess. But waiting had gotten him here, hadn’t it? And now he was scrambling to undo weeks of silence. He thought, maybe, he should have something written out. Something properly planned, so that he knew what he wanted to tell you. But every time he thought about what to say, his mind came up blank. After hours of failure, he’d convinced himself that, with you, it would come naturally. It always had.

Or, at least, that’s what he kept repeating as he made his way downstairs, finding you in the kitchen.

You didn’t look up right away, but you knew he was there. 

“Are you sure you want to be in here without a chaperone?” you said, slicing into an apple slowly. “What if something happens?”

Shadows swirled around his shoulders. Angry, they whispered. As if he didn’t already know.

“Stop,” Azriel said. “Can we just... stop with the comments. Please.”

“Why?” You said, finally tossing a glance his way. “Is it bothering you?”

The look on your face was nothing like he expected. It wasn’t just anger. It was exhaustion, too. He didn’t like it, the way the shadows under your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders spoke louder than anything you’d said to him in days. Didn’t like that he’d probably been the one to put that exhaustion there.

“Yes,” Azriel finally responded. “It is bothering me.”

You let out a laugh, something low and humorless, and it twisted in his chest. Should he  apologize for making you lose sleep, too? He’d already failed at the rest of it—what was one more thing to add to the pile?

Azriel cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

“Now you want to talk?”

His fists clenched at his sides. The familiar burn of frustration, the heat of guilt, rose up his throat.  “How was I supposed to talk to you before when you’d just ignore me or say something snarky and leave?”

You stilled at his words and Azriel was almost tempted to embrace the small flicker of relief he felt. He should have apologized sooner, yes, but you had been avoiding him fervently. He convinced himself he wouldn’t have been able to apologize before now, anyways. 

“Okay,” you said, setting the knife down and leaning against the counter. “Well, I’m here now. So what do you want to say?”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to the knife instinctively. It was far enough from your hand that he probably didn’t need to worry. Probably. Not that he thought you’d do anything—though there was that one time Cassian had nearly stabbed him with a butter knife. He’d been significantly less angry than you were now. The memory did nothing to ease Azriel’s nerves. He pushed the image away.

This was it—his chance to fix things. To say all the things he’d been rehearsing in his head. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he found himself saying, “How was the meeting with Keir?”

The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to grab them out of the air and shove them back down his throat.  He could see it in the way your expression shifted—something sharp and disbelieving cutting across your face. Azriel didn’t need his shadows to tell him he’d screwed up again. The words had barely landed, and already he was bracing for the fallout.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

Azriel froze. His shadows curled tighter around him. Stupid, stupid. He swallowed, desperately trying to correct it. There was no going back. “Rhys said I should expect some tension at the next meeting. I wanted the full picture.”

“The full picture?” You repeated darkly.  “Well the full picture wasn’t great, Azriel. Because you weren’t there. And because I was pissed—because of you.”

Azriel nodded, swallowing hard. Idiot. “Right. I shouldn’t have asked that. I should’ve—” He stopped himself. No, he couldn’t fix that now. He needed to focus on what mattered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally, the words leaving his mouth like rocks tumbling down a hill. He hated the way it sounded—weak, like he didn’t mean it. But he did. He just didn’t know how to make you believe it. Azriel continued, the apology already unraveling in his head. “For how you feel.”

“Oh,” you said softly, but there was a thick sarcasm in your voice. “You’re sorry for how I feel?”

Azriel rushed to correct himself. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. “Do you even know what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you sorry for?”

Azriel cursed himself for the hundredth time. Why was this so hard?

Because it was you, he heard his own voice reply, because he couldn’t bear the thought of failing you again. He knew he was failing—knew it in the sharp edge of your voice and the way your eyes narrowed every time he opened his mouth. And still, the right thing to say stayed maddeningly out of reach.

“I’m sorry that your feelings got hurt.”

His shadows slowly loosened, trailing down his body like they didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. He didn’t blame them. You blinked slowly at him, that look of exhaustion softening your features.

“That’s not an apology, Azriel. That’s—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Azriel was transported back to the night of the fight, remembering how you’d said similar words then, too. He tried to salvage it again, but you were already moving, wiping the cutting board with a hurried motion. You didn’t notice as your apple, barely sliced, rolled off the counter’s edge. His shadows were there almost instantly, catching the fruit before it fell.

You reached out, and for a brief moment, your shoulders softened as you grabbed it from their hold.

“Where are you going?” Azriel asked. He wondered if his voice sounded as desperate as he felt. As frustrated.

“To train with Cassian,” you replied, still not looking at him. Your hand paused on the counter, and you glanced over your shoulder. “Do you think I should stop by Nesta first? Make sure she’s okay with me being around her mate? I wouldn’t want to ruin their relationship too.”

Azriel’s chest tightened. “Can we stop this?”

“No,” you replied swiftly, and Az could have sworn he heard a crack in your voice. 

And then the silence stretched. You ate the small slices of apple as you put things away, the quiet dragging on as he stood there, still unable to speak. Finally, you stopped and looked at him. He tried to offer a smile, something to soften the weight in the air. But you just frowned.

“Did you expect to wait this out? Wait until I got over it?”

Azriel shook his head, his voice low. “No. I never thought that. I just—”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You stared at him for a long moment, like you were seeing him for the first time, and the disappointment in your gaze made his chest feel tight. He should have been able to find the right words. But it didn’t matter anymore, not in this moment, not as you let out a small, bitter laugh, nodding as if something inside you had finally broken. 

“Always so afraid of saying the wrong thing that you never say the right one.”

Azriel opened his mouth, desperate to correct himself, to make it right, but the words just wouldn’t come. He had never considered that before—at least, not with you. He’d never thought he needed to say the right things, never cared enough to learn how.

“I never realized how much of an asshole you could be,” you said, with a final, almost dismissive glance. “I guess some females are into that.”

And then you were gone.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Training couldn’t have come at a better time.

You needed to hit something—needed to feel that release. Not in a petty, frustrated way, like slamming your fist into a wall, but in the desperate, raw way that left you aching. It was the only way to escape your frustration and, maybe, remind yourself that you were still you, despite how Azriel made you feel.

And for a while, it worked.

Cassian had spent centuries mastering the language of battle, the unspoken rhythm of war. He could read the tension in a stance, spot when someone's body didn’t follow through with the mind’s intentions. He didn’t get enough credit for it, you thought, his ability to read someone without words. He was looking at you now, with that critical eye, head tilted slightly, like he was waiting for you to crack. 

“Alright,” Cassian grunted as he parried another strike. “What’s on your mind?”

You ducked beneath his swing. “Nothing,” you said, deflecting the question with a swipe of your sword. Too fast, too aggressive.

Cassian dodged it easily, raising a brow. “Right. Because ‘nothing’ is exactly what makes you swing like you’re trying to decapitate me.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but you didn’t laugh. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, no matter how good-natured it was.

“It’s nothing. Seriously.”

He rested the flat of his blade against his shoulder.  “Come on, spit it out before you take my head off for real. I’ll pester you all day.”

You sighed, pacing a few steps away. He’d wait. He definitely would. And there wasn’t much point in pretending anymore—he clearly knew you weren’t fine. Continuing to train like this was useless when your head was so unfocused. Avoiding the topic wasn’t helping either. At this point, everyone knew what was going on. Hell, they all seemed more bothered by it than Azriel.

Still, you’d been dodging these conversations. Talking about it felt...stupid. Saying it out loud would make it real—all the messy, painful feelings you’d been shoving down would be out there, staring back at you like some pitiful mirror. Your conversation with Azriel this morning had only made your bitterness stronger.

But Cassian was watching you, expecting, and it was nice, in a way. Having someone care this much. Maybe it would be easier to talk to him. Mor had helped, sure, but her comfort recently came in the form of dragging Azriel through the dirt. It didn’t actually solve anything.

"It’s this stupid thing with Az," you muttered finally. "I’m starting to feel like he doesn’t actually care about me." 

Cassian leaned on the hilt of his sword. “Well, that’s not true.”

You leveled him with a stare, your body tensing as a surge of frustration ran through you, hot and heavy. “It isn’t? He talked to me for the first time today and didn’t even apologize. Not properly. Just asked about Keir.”

Cassian’s expression softened. “He gets wrapped up in his own head about things. Probably just embarrassed, you know? Doesn’t know how to approach the situation.”

You’d run that possibility through your mind a hundred times. Mor had even said it herself. But it didn’t help with the ache, the anger. It was hard to believe your spymaster—so fearless, so eager to throw himself into the fire—was struggling to talk to a friend. Out of all the hard things Azriel had done, surely a simple apology wasn’t beyond him. You’d forgiven him for so much, had let things go because he was your friend. But you were tired of letting it go. He had the perfect opportunity to apologize, to properly acknowledge how he’d hurt you, and he hadn’t taken it.

“Embarrassed by what? Accusing his friend of something so absurd?”

Cassian tilted his head in subtle agreement, like he too thought the word absurd was right for the situation. “I think Az doesn’t want to be seen as...whatever he thinks people see him as. Like he’s incompetent in love. Or that he can’t handle his shit.” He rolled his shoulders, sighing. “He’s defensive. When he’s cornered, he reacts badly. It’s not about you, Y/n. You know that, right?”

You knew that. Of course you did. But it didn’t feel like a proper explanation this time. It didn’t feel like enough.

“But it feels like it is about me. He listened to her. He took her word, over mine." Your fists clenched involuntarily. "And the way he acted—like I wasn’t worth considering, like my opinion doesn’t matter. I’ve known him for centuries. She—" You paused, taking a breath, "She’s barely been in his life. And he immediately assumes that my care for him is because I just want something from him. That it’s some selfish, self-serving thing. His whole job is to see through lies, Cass. He didn’t even second-guess her.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually see it like that. He probably just reacted out of instinct. It’s Azriel, Y/n, he’s complicated. "

“Shit, Cass, way to play sides.”

Cassian sighed, stepping closer. “I’m not playing sides. I’m trying to help. Az makes stupid decisions. Half the time, I don’t think he even understands why. I don’t want you driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. It’s not worth it.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you snapped. “Just wait it out? Move on? That’s not happening.”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and guilt pricked at the edges of your conscience. This wasn’t Cassian’s fault—he didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to care. But lately, your anger over everything—over Az—felt like a thorn lodged so deeply under your skin that the irritation seeped into everything. You were struggling to control it.

It was a small blessing there weren’t any court matters to handle for the time being. Rhys was likely still preoccupied with Keir’s incessant whining about your last outburst.

Still, it felt like acid rising in your throat, a bitter burn you couldn’t swallow down, even as Cassian opened his mouth to respond. The words were spilling out of you before he could say anything.

“I’m not even mad about this one fight anymore,” you started, the grip on your sword slipping as your fingers unfurled. The blade clattered to the ground, the sound loud enough to make Cassian flinch. “It’s everything. All of it. He never apologizes for anything—have you noticed that? Like, ever. And I’ve let it slide because that’s just Azriel, right? Quiet, brooding Azriel, who’s somehow above—”

Cassian raised a palm out. “Alright, alright, stop,” he said. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy. It’s not worth it.”

You exhaled sharply, realizing you were halfway to a full-blown rant.

He stepped closer, giving you a knowing look. “Listen, you can’t force him to apologize properly. You just...can’t. You have to let him come to it on his own.”

Your teeth clenched. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Cassian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I agree. Believe me, I agree. But until he figures his shit out, maybe we focus on what you can change.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What else is bothering you?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It would be easier to list what isn’t bothering me right now.”

Cassian tilted his head again, considering. “Does it bother you that Selene sees you as competition?”

You blew a strand of hair out of your face. Did it bother you?

Azriel had believed her instantly—disregarded you with a swiftness that stung. He’d accused you of selfishness, of something you’d never been with him. But Selene’s opinion of you, the thoughts she’d planted in his mind, those bothered you too. You hadn’t realized it until now.

She didn’t know you.

And yet, her words had curled under your skin, sitting heavy and raw, making you ache in a quiet, tired way. Worse, they’d made you overthink every interaction with Azriel since. You’d spent so much of your life trying to be the diplomat, choosing empathy even when it sucked—when it drained you. You wanted to like Selene—gods, you wanted to like the people Azriel cared for, even when it felt impossible. But she hadn’t even given you the time of day.

“I don’t like that I’ve been vilified somehow,” you admitted with a frown. “I don’t want to feel like I’m fighting for his attention or validation. It’s not like that.”

Cassian gave a small, knowing smile. “I know it’s not.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.” 

He paused, clearly mulling something over, then asked, “Do you want to hear what I think?”

You gave him a wary look. “I feel like you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Correct,” he said, grinning. Then he sobered. “Az aside...I think Selene’s reaction makes sense.”

You blinked at him, incredulous. Was he serious right now? A sharp heat rose in your chest. “Okay, well, that’s clearly choosing sides—”

“Hear me out,” Cassian said quickly. “I mean, look at you, Y/n. I’d be jealous of you too if I were her. You’re beautiful, smart, someone Azriel deeply cares for. Hell, I’d probably be a mess.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “So, because I’m so wonderful, I’m responsible for her insecurities?” you asked dryly, arching a brow.

Cassian shook his head. “No. What I’m saying is that this might be the one aspect of the situation you can change. The one thing you have control over. Maybe talking to her would help. Clear the air.”

You mulled over his suggestion. Maybe he had a point. Maybe talking to Selene would help. Not just to ease the tension, but to give Azriel room to come to you—to clear the air between you both. If you did this—if you took the first step—maybe he’d finally take you seriously. Apologize for dismissing you so easily, so carelessly. You could find a way to move on, comfortably, with Selene in his life. Right?

It wasn’t like the situation could get any worse.

"Okay," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "Yeah. Maybe I’ll talk to her."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Cassian was waiting for Azriel as he stepped out of the townhome, his massive frame leaning against the railing. One glance at the general was enough to confirm it: Cassian wasn’t there to exchange pleasantries. No—Cassian stood with his arms crossed, his wings partially flared, exuding the barely-contained anger Azriel recognized all too well.

“We need to talk,” Cassian said.

Azriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He tightened his fists, shadows curling around them instinctively, obscuring his hands from view. Not now. Not tonight. He had no energy for this—not for Cassian’s righteousness or whatever lecture he’d come prepared to deliver.

“I’m not in the mood, Cass,” he said flatly, brushing past him.

“Too bad.” Cassian stepped into his path, blocking him with ease. “I didn’t endure an hour of Mor yelling at me for you to decide you can’t have a conversation.”

Azriel paused, his brow furrowing. “Why was Mor yelling at you?”

Cassian crossed his arms. “Because of you.”

“Great,” Az muttered. “What have I done now?”

“I gave Y/n some advice that, in hindsight, wasn’t great. Mor made the situation a lot clearer for me. Now I’m here to make sure you clean up your mess before anyone else slips.”

The mention of your name made Azriel’s chest ache in a way that felt too raw. He’d told himself he wouldn’t think about you tonight—not your voice, not your expression when he’d spoken to you this morning. But here was Cassian, dragging it all to the surface like a wound being forced open.

“I don’t think this is any of your concern,” Azriel said coldly, stepping around Cassian in a last-ditch effort to leave.

Cassian didn’t budge, spinning on his heel and following. “It is my concern because you’re my friend. And Y/n is my friend.”

Azriel could feel his shadows tighten their hold, whispering, urging him to end this. He wasn’t sure if they meant the conversation with Cassian or the situation entirely. Azriel could only control one of those.

“Cass, leave it alone,” he said, his voice low, barely masking the warning there.

“No,” Cassian responded immediately. “You did something shitty and you need to own up to it, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes friends fight,” he ground out. “Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves, like you’re getting on mine now. It’ll settle.”

“This isn’t going to ‘settle.’” Cassian’s voice rose. “You didn’t just get on her nerves—you offended her.”

The words hit harder than Azriel had anticipated.

“Because the idea of having feelings for me is so offensive? Am I that repulsive?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, the question jagged, biting. He hadn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t sure where it had come from. 

Cassian blinked, his anger giving way to confusion for a moment before his brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t twist this into something it isn’t.”

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of heat creeping up his neck. His outburst had come from nowhere, and now, Cassian’s eyes were full of confusion and something else—something close to pity. Azriel felt small under it, a flush of embarrassment prickling down his body. He wanted to look away, to escape.

He needed to leave.

Think later. Process later. Just get out of here.

Azriel squared his shoulders, forcing himself to meet Cassian’s gaze with as much indifference as he could muster. “Are you done now? Selene is waiting for me.”

Cassian stepped closer, his wings flaring in frustration. “Selene can deal with a few lost minutes of Azriel time. We’re talking.”

“No,” Azriel said, voice flat, his gaze turning icy. “You’re talking. I’m leaving.”

He moved to step past Cassian, but the larger male blocked him again.

“Is this some weird self-pity thing?” Cassian demanded, his tone growing sharper. “Thinking you’re not worth being forgiven so you don’t even try?”

Those words hit a nerve. 

Azriel’s anger sparked instantly, snapping through his ribs like a whip. He couldn’t decide if it was directed at Cassian or himself. But Cassian didn’t understand. None of them did.

“Cass, just let it go.”

“No,” Cassian shot back. “You always do this. You make decisions that are selfish. You push people away because you think it’s easier, and it’s not. It’s bullshit.”

It wasn’t easier—it was never easier. But what was Azriel supposed to say? That it was better than risking more damage? That every decision he made, no matter how distant or cold, was the only way he knew how to protect the people he cared about?

“Cassian—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

Azriel’s head snapped to the side, his shadows scattering in shock before reforming around him. Slowly, he turned back to Cassian, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sorry,” Cassian said flatly. “Must’ve been the wind.”

Azriel’s lip curled. He opened his mouth to respond, but a second slap landed, harder this time.

“Would you stop that?” Azriel growled, his wings flaring slightly, the shadows around him vibrating with his tone. “Don’t touch me.”

Cassian stepped closer. “Why?” he asked, mockingly. “This is what you deserve, right? If you’re so terrible.”

The third slap was the breaking point.

Azriel’s fist flew, connecting with Cassian’s jaw in a blur of movement. The force sent Cassian stumbling back a step, but he recovered quickly, his retaliation swift—a sharp uppercut to Azriel’s ribs.

They fought like brothers—wild, messy. Not about technique, but about something else. Azriel wasn’t sure why Cassian needed this release, but he could feel it—the desperate need behind every punch. And Azriel… Azriel didn’t realize it at first, but he needed it too.

He was an Illyrian, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise. Fighting cleared his mind. Whatever Cassian was trying to achieve, whatever he needed to prove, it was working.

Azriel barely registered the sting of each hit. The ache in his ribs, the burn in his muscles—it all blurred into the same tight, unrelenting pressure in his chest. Like there was no room left for air, for thought, for the gnawing guilt that had dug its claws into him and refused to let go. Cassian tackled him to the ground, pinning him, both of them struggling for breath.

“This is stupid!”

“I agree,” Azriel spat, shoving him off. “Get off me.”

“No, you!” Cassian said, pushing himself to his feet. “You’re stupid.”

Azriel sat up slowly, chest heaving as his shadows curled protectively around him. 

Cassian shook his head, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re better than this, Az. So be better and properly fuckin’ apologize. If not for you, for me—so my mate will stop glaring at me every time I say your name.”

Azriel’s gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of Cassian’s words sinking into him like a slow burn. His fists clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. Offered nothing. 

Cassian didn’t stop. “Gods know Y/n has done enough for you. Put up with enough. We’ve all done shitty things. But you know what? You take the hit, you own it, and you try to be better. You can’t lead with self-loathing forever.”

Azriel sat there longer than necessary, long after Cassian had walked away. People passed by—some casting glances his way, most not bothering to look at all—but he didn’t move. Didn’t feel the flicker of shame he might’ve once felt at sitting there, bloodied and bruised, shadows curling restlessly around him.

The sting in his cheekbone from Cassian’s knuckles pulsed dully, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the gnawing thoughts taking root.

Maybe it wasn’t the fear of you rejecting his apology that held him back. Maybe it was the fear that you wouldn’t.

That you’d accept it. 

That somehow, he’d manage to make it up to you. That things would settle for a while, until he inevitably did something worse. Something irreparable.

He was terrified of succeeding—of pulling you back in, of you continuing to see something in him that he wasn’t. That you’d keep believing in this illusion, this version of him he’d somehow convinced you existed.

For centuries, it felt like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable—waiting for you to see him as he truly was. And if he made this right, if you forgave him, it would only give him more time to fail you again.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were walking without a proper destination in mind.

You’d never been to it, but Azriel had once mentioned that Selene worked at a flower shop near the Palace of Thread and Jewels. He’d first run into her on one of his free days, when he’d stopped by a few of his favorite parts in the city.

This area made sense. It was near his usual route, tucked away in a cozy corner of the city. As the scent of flowers suddenly enveloped you, you heard Selene’s unmistakable voice. Relief surged through you; you’d found the right place. 

You thought back to your conversation with Cassian. You knew you weren’t in the wrong, that this current visit wasn’t expected of you. But it was something you could control. You’d wanted to get to know Selene better anyway. You prepared yourself, putting on a smile and stepping towards the door, but then—

“I mean, is he really worth all that effort?”

This was a voice you didn’t recognize. It curled around you, something about it making your stomach clench. 

A small sigh. “Azriel?”

This time, the voice belonged to Selene. You froze, rooted to the spot. Any inclination to quit eavesdropping washed away at the sound of his name. You felt a tightness in your chest—an almost primal urge to run in there, to stop the conversation before it even began. 

“Yeah,” the second voice pressed, “He’s a freak, Sel. Hot, sure, but a total freak. And so intense all the time.”

For a moment, there was silence. And then, Selene’s voice, almost reluctant, like she was holding back. “Well—”

Her friend interrupted. “And those shadows? Don’t they freak you out?”

A sound of disgust, maybe a shiver, followed her words. Something cold rushed through you, crawling beneath your skin, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether you wanted to shout or run. Or maybe both. Anger churned in your gut, and the calm, composed facade you’d been carefully maintaining on the walk here began to crack, slipping away piece by piece. 

“Hey, knock it off,” Selene replied, her voice soft.  “He surprises you. He’s sweet. He makes me happy.”

Her friend snorted. “Has it been an ego boost for you, then?”

“I mean, yeah,” Selene admitted quietly. “But that’s not all of it. Things with him actually aren’t… great right now. He canceled on me again tonight. I think it’s because he had some kind of fight with Y/n.”

The mention of your name stole the breath from your chest, and your body constricted almost involuntarily. 

Her friend’s voice was full of disbelief as she asked, “He actually told you?”

“No,” Selene said softly, “I—I heard them. I feel really bad, but…”

The next sound was unmistakable—the sharp intake of breath from her friend, a squeal of sorts.

“Did you actually use the listening charm I gave you? You little min—”

Something snapped in you as the words registered. A listening charm. A strange, gross invasion of privacy. And to think you had felt bad standing here, eavesdropping on their conversation in a public store, of all places. You’d been this close to giving her the benefit of the doubt.

You stormed into the shop, the door slamming behind you, and both voices froze. You barely registered Selene’s friend’s wide-eyed realization, the quiet “Oh shit” leaving her lips as she turned toward Selene.

Your focus was on Selene—on her and no one else. She stood there, an image of calm beauty that twisted something deep inside you—a type of beauty that felt somehow wrong, as if it were too polished, too perfect, for the situation. Her dark hair framed her face, her delicate features still and pale as she stared at you. The color drained from her face the moment your gaze locked with hers.

“Do you want to explain what I just heard?” you asked, your voice tight, sharp, biting. “Or should I just tell you what I’ve gathered?”

Silence. 

Her friend opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t think you have any right coming in here and—”

“I think this is a conversation for me and Selene,” you said coldly, not bothering to spare her a glance. 

Selene blinked a few times before she turned her head and offered her friend a small, almost reluctant nod.

“You should go,” she told her quietly. “And put the closed sign on the door, please.”

Her friend hesitated, but with a final glance in your direction, she walked out, the soft click of the door behind her leaving the two of you alone. You didn’t miss the way she’d muttered under her breath as she left, a quiet but very clear “Bitch.”

“Y/n,” Selene said after another moment of silence, her voice tentative, like she was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know that you were here.”

“Clearly.”

Selene’s movements were stiff, awkward as she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands now that she was trapped in this uncomfortable moment.  “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” you replied. “I asked you a question. I’d like to know what I just overheard.”

Selene’s ears flushed pink, a deep red that spread across her neck, as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You could feel your patience unraveling. Of course she didn’t know what to say. She’d been caught in the act. There was no excuse for this.

“You listened to us,” you snapped, the words bitter in your mouth. “You spied on Azriel. Do you just want to skip ahead to how you justify it?”

Her face paled, and for a moment, she looked younger—small, almost fragile. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Oh please.” The frustration boiled over, flooding your veins with anger you hadn’t realized was possible. Anything you’d felt before this moment paled in comparison. You shouldn’t have asked her to explain. You already knew whatever she said would only make things worse, would only add fuel to the fire that was your growing irritation.

This is stupid. This is ridiculous. How did you get roped into this?

“I know it was wrong!” she said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I know, okay? I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have let Runa convince me it was a good idea. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

That had to be the worst excuse you’d ever heard. It wasn’t just the stupidity of it that pissed you off—it was the weakness of it, the desperation in her voice that made you want to scream.  Azriel must be blind. Had he really been so wrapped up in whatever bubble he’d built around her that he couldn’t see the cracks? Was he so fucking love-blind that this—this—was what he was left with?

“What else to do? About what? Surely any other solution would have been better.”

She let out a deep sigh and her shoulders sagged with the motion. “I really like him,  Y/n.”

You snorted, a sound of genuine amusement—more out of sheer disbelief than anything else. You couldn’t help it. “Alright,” you said, dismissing her with a wave of your hand, not buying it for a second. “Don’t start.”

“I do,” Selene said, her voice more insistent now. “I think I might even love him. But it’s hard.”

You shot her an unimpressed look. 

Her voice was louder, more frantic, as she continued. “Azriel doesn’t talk about anything—anything real.”

You didn’t bother hiding the scoff. “Bullshit. Az talks. You just have to be patient. Communicate like a normal fucking partner.”

Her frustration flashed across her face, the defensive crossing of her arms only making her look more like a child. “Do you think I didn’t try that? He doesn’t tell me anything. Not really. He keeps everything locked up so tight—he barely even looks at me sometimes. What was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not violate his privacy?” 

“You don’t get it.” Her hands trembled as she gestured at you. “He doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you. Do you know what it’s like to be the one he’s supposed to care about but feel like you’re always on the outside? Like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get through, but somehow you can?”

You should’ve walked away then. The urge to just let her talk herself into a hole was strong. But you didn’t.

“You’ve been dating him for a few months,” you said, crossing your arms, your stance slightly defensive. “We’ve been friends for centuries. You can’t expect him to open up to you completely overnight.”

“That’s not the point!” she snapped, her voice rising, a crack of desperation leaking through. For a fleeting second, you almost felt bad for her. A tug of sympathy.

“Then what the hell is the point?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just looking for someone to blame. And for some reason, that someone is me. Are you seriously trying to imply I'm somehow responsible for you spying on him?”

Selene flinched, but she didn’t back down. You had to give her credit for that.  “No. I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her hand tugging at her hair in jerky movements, like she was trying to yank the thoughts from her mind. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t think—I just… I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I could figure out what was going on, maybe I could fix it. Maybe I could stop feeling like…”

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m always on the outside. Like I’m never going to be enough.”

A part of you wanted to snap back at her, to remind her that this wasn’t a justification, that none of this made it okay. But something about her voice—broken, raw, like a crack that had been growing for too long—slowed your response. Your anger faltered.

“I know it’s insane,” she added, “I know it was wrong, and I feel awful about it. But I didn’t know what else to do. It feels like i’m competing with someone who’s known him longer, who gets to see parts of him I never will. How am I supposed to make space for myself?”

“Still not a good enough excuse,” you bit out. “You can’t just violate his privacy because you’re insecure.”

Selene took a deep breath and met your gaze. There was no fight in them anymore. “Please, just go. Run off and tell Azriel everything. I know you’re probably excited to.”

Her words stung more than they should have.

“Why do you say it like that?” you asked, “Like I’m thrilled to ruin your relationship?”

Selene’s eyes flickered with something sharp. “Aren’t you?”

For a second, you almost wished you could be. Almost.

“No,” you said firmly. “I would never do that to Azriel. I’m not your competition. I’m his friend. I came here to give you the benefit of the doubt because I wanted you two to be happy. But this? This is…” You trailed off, unable to even finish the thought, because it was too much—everything about it felt wrong.

“Crazy?” Selene finished bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know how it looks. But like I said, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to care about someone so much that you start losing sight of yourself. I think about him, about how much I care about him, and all my instincts go out the window. ”

Selene had always existed a certain way in your mind.

Azriel had seemed lighter when he first mentioned her, a softness in his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. And you’d been happy for him—thrilled, even, at the idea of someone bringing him a bit of joy. You’d wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, wanted to believe that she could be good for him. You were excited to meet her.

But then Az started to change.

The more he changed, the more Selene shifted in your mind, too. She became untouchable, an image conjured more from your worry than from anything real. You imagined her as someone clingy, someone who demanded all of his attention and made him forget the people who loved him first. Someone full of herself, reveling in the power she had over him.

And then you’d met her.

She wasn’t what you’d expected—though not in the way that might have changed your mind. She wasn’t warm or open, wasn’t eager to charm or connect with Azriel’s family. Instead, she’d clung to him like a second skin, her hands always on his arm, her smile reserved only for him. And maybe it was unfair, but you hadn’t liked the way she’d looked at you, hadn’t liked the guarded, wary edge to her voice when she spoke.

You’d trusted your gut, let it guide you through the uncertainty. And when things fell apart—when the argument between you and Az finally erupted—Selene’s image had shifted again.

She became a villain in your mind, a figure painted in sharp, unforgiving lines. It was easier that way. Easier to picture her whispering in Azriel’s ear, twisting his thoughts, pulling him further away from you. You’d built her into someone cruel, someone who reveled in the divide she’d caused.

But now, standing before her, you saw something else entirely.

Selene didn’t look cruel. She didn’t look smug or victorious. If anything, she looked fragile. There was an unease in her posture, a vulnerability in the way her hands fidgeted at her sides. The guardedness was still there, but it felt more like armor than arrogance.

And for the first time, you questioned how much of the image you’d built of her was real—and how much of it was your own fear, your own concern for Azriel, projected onto her.

“Why did you tell Azriel that I had feelings for him?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you weren’t sure where they came from—but somehow, they lifted a deep weight off your chest.

Her brows furrowed, genuine confusion crossing her face. "What?"

“Why did you tell him that you thought I had feelings for him?”

“I wanted to see what he’d do,” she admitted. 

Disbelief tightened in your chest.  “So you lied to him for fun?”

She shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes,” you said, the word bitten out, “You told him I had feelings for him.”

“Because you do,” she answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, like she understood your feelings better than you did. And for a second—a stupid, fleeting second—you almost believed her.

Selene’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what a female in love with him looks like,” she said quietly,  her voice soft in a way it wasn’t before. “I see it every day when I look in the mirror.”

Something inside you twisted painfully, a knot of emotions you couldn’t untangle fast enough. You focused on the irritation. 

“Am I wrong?” she continued. “Is he the best part of your day? Do you look forward to talking to him? Can you tell him things you’d never tell anyone else? Do you save bits of good food just so he can try it?”

Your throat felt tight, the words stuck somewhere between anger and disbelief. How had this conversation managed to spin so completely?

The breath you took felt jagged, like your lungs couldn’t quite expand all the way. “That’s not true,” you said. “Azriel and I… We’re friends. That’s all. We’ve been friends for centuries. That’s just—what happens when you’ve known someone that long.”

For a moment, you thought she might apologize, or at least reconsider. Her expression faltered, but instead, she just stared at you.

“Do you really believe that?”

When you didn’t reply, Selene blinked, cleared her throat, and turned away from you, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “This is so pathetic,” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitter amusement. “I’m standing here, basically pushing you to him.”

A sigh slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You hesitated, torn between frustration and a strange sympathy. Against every instinct telling you to be petty, a part of you felt bad for her. She cared about Azriel. Deeply. You were certain of it— unsure of how you knew, but you were certain nonetheless. There was no malice in her voice, just insecurity and raw, unspoken fear.

You hated that you could sense it, but you couldn't ignore it either. You could almost hear Amren in your ear, urging you to walk away, and Mor's voice reminding you that Selene didn’t deserve your kindness. But somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. If Azriel saw something worth loving in Selene, maybe you did too.

“Okay, well, don’t do that,” you muttered, taking a step closer. The urge to comfort her was almost overwhelming—to show her that maybe she could learn and grow from this. “You need to talk to Az, Selene. Just sit down, be open—”

“Stop. Don’t be nice to me,” she snapped, spinning to face you. Her voice was sharp.

She moved as if to push you away, but hadn’t realized how close you’d stepped. The edge of her bracelet caught your cheek, and the sharp sting of metal cut straight through it.

Selene froze, her eyes widening as she took in the line of blood blooming on your cheek. “Oh my gods,” she whispered, her hands hovering uselessly. “I—I didn’t mean—”

You stepped back further, your hand still on your cheek, blood warm against your fingertips. 

This seemed about right, you thought bitterly to yourself. This is what happens when you try to be the bigger person. You were gonna kill Cassian. You were going to wring his godsdamned neck.

Selene’s voice became a rush of apologies, each one more frantic than the last, but your attention was already slipping away. Your gaze fell to the bracelet on her wrist. The metal gleamed, twisting slightly with every motion of her hand. You recognized it instantly.

Azriel had a similar one in his room. On his dresser.

“Is that how you did it?” you asked, pointing to her wrist.

Selene’s face drained of color, guilt flooding her expression. She nodded slowly, her hands shaking as she removed the bracelet and held it out to you, eyes wide and full of regret.

You took it from her fingers and, just for a moment, you almost let yourself fall back into the anger, the hurt. But you didn’t. You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” Selene whispered, voice breaking. “I really am. I was— I was just desperate. And Runa kept pushing, and—”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, locking eyes with her. Her voice faded, but it didn’t matter anymore. “You’re not terrible, Selene. But you have terrible friends.”

You turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “I suggest you find new ones.”

You tried to steady yourself as you stepped into the bustling streets of Velaris. The bracelet in your hand was cold against your palm, and the sting of the cut on your cheek throbbed with each beat of your pulse. Everything inside you felt scrambled—emotions tangled, confusion still clouding your mind.

The shuffle of footsteps broke through your fog. You looked up, just in time to hear a sharp voice.

“Ouch, that looks like it stung.” A small chuckle. “Although I’m sure you’re excited to have a reason for the Shadowsinger to tend to you.”

You scanned her. “Runa, right?”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Yeah, that's me.”

Without hesitation, you found yourself saying, “You gave your friend some hurtful advice.”

Runa shrugged nonchalantly, almost amused. “Oops.”

You held your tongue for a moment, your irritation intensifying the longer you looked at her. Unlike Selene, who had managed to evoke some sympathy, Runa didn’t even come close. She shifted, as if waiting for you to bite.

The silence stretched before she finally broke it with a snide laugh. “Honestly, Selene’s better off without that freak of a boyfriend. She doesn’t need to be wrapped up with shitty court politicians.”

Something in you snapped. Maybe it was the words, maybe it was the whirlwind of emotions from the last half hour, but your patience with her was gone. You inhaled sharply, trying to steady your temper, and placed the bracelet in your pocket.

“Do you know who I am?”

Runa raised an eyebrow, the slightest trace of mockery in her smile. “Uh, yeah. You're an emissary or something, right?” She waved her hand dismissively, as if it didn’t matter.

You closed the distance between you in a few long strides. “Good,” you said, letting the word settle in the air. “I want you to remember that when you report.”

Runa looked confused, her smug attitude faltering. “Report what?” 

You smiled. And then you punched her in the face. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: fun fact, this was the 6th draft of this!! and this felt like the way to go with the story....gives me some options to exploree. its also so long bc i wanted to keep all the fun scenes together tehehe sorry yall i got carried away

but selene....selene...selene... how i thought about her for a bit. i wanted to avoid making selene a caricature of a soulless mean jealous girl, i think it makes it somehow worse and even better to write knowing she was just incredibly insecure and misguided by people she trusted...doesn’t make anythinggg she did okay but

we out here rly testing our reader with a selene like villain rn. tehehe

also....time to imagine rhys holding nyx on his lap as he tells reader that shes in trouble for fighting a citizen in the open mf streets. rhys was so smug and now he’s like damn…wait a min… our public imagine SUCKSS

thank you for reading!!<3

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