#not really agreeing on the arrangement of the list but it is more of a subjective opinion anyway. we all have our preferences and biases đ
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hi!!! i saw that you mentioned f1's top 10 overtakes video and i wanted to let you know that a lot of fans in the comments were questioning the exclusion/inclusion of certain overtakes so an alonso fan remade it...while still including plenty of esteban's overtakes!
they added his overtake on alex in spa while keeping the overtakes on yuki and checo (his overtake on fernando is actually also included but they noted that they couldn't use the footage in their video due to copyright)! in total, a whopping four overtakes from esteban were included in one way or another which is actually the highest amount from one driver (he even beat fernando, who had three overtakes included in the video!).
i thought you'd appreciate esteban's stellar race craft being appreciated by the f1 community...especially by an alonso fan! i know there are plenty of alonso fans (and f1 fans in general) that aren't blindly hating esteban but it's still nice to see given esteban and fernando's...history.
First of Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays đđ
Thanks for sharing this! I always love it when I see an Alonso fan (or any other driver fan really) show appreciation for the racecraft of other drivers.
The overtake video list the fan remade has really cemented my opinion that Esteban and Fernando have one of the best racecrafts on the grid. The overtake list was basically just the two of them đ I'm not particularly a fan of Alonso (far from it actually đ
but mostly for offtrack reasons) but he is one of the ones I like watching during races. When he and Esteban were still teammates, I always looked forward to what those two would do on track, both together and individually. It was one of the reasons why I became an Alpine fan.
Honestly, I always have to remind myself that those who blindly hate on Esteban are just a very loud minority and that there are definitely much more who aren't toxic and who can appreciate great racecraft no matter who delivers it. Sometimes I wish the silent majority wouldn't be so silent. It would make the f1 online community not be such a hateful space.
On a side note, I loved that they included Lance vs. Sainz in Jeddah too. It was such an underappreciated overtake and deserved so much more praise.
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It's Inevitable
Bob Floyd x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, pining, alcohol
30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: rubatosis- the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat
Word Count: 5.3k
A/N: i had the most ridiculous about of fun writing this for Bob. i adore him more than words can say đ„°
Bob felt like he had been living in a constant state of disbelief ever since he met you. From the day that the universe, or more specifically Bradley, put him into your orbit, all the events that followed felt like one little surprise after the other. He considered himself infinitely lucky for it.
When he mentioned to Bradley off-hand that they were going to have him stationed in California for a while, long enough for him to justify looking for his own place off-base, he had just been making conversation. They had just been talking about next moves and Bob felt like it was fitting, mentioning that he was going to be looking for a place, maybe even a roommate since it was going to be on relatively short-notice.
âIf youâre cool with a roommate, one of my buddies actually kinda needs one,â Bradley mentioned off-hand as they racked up for another pool game at The Hard Deck.
Bob perked up slightly at that. A roommate recommendation from someone he knew seemed preferable than the alternative. He figured that Bradley wouldnât have brought it up if it was a recipe for disaster.
âYeah?â Bob tried to sound interested, but not too much so. There were no real guarantees, after all.
Bradley nodded before leaning down to break for the start of the game. âYeah. Funny because we were just talking about how putting out a Craigslist Ad felt like signing up to be on an episode of a True Crime podcast.â
Bob chuckled at that. âKind of does, yeah.â
Bradley watched Bob take his shot, not allowing the amusement he was currently feeling to show on his face. âI can introduce you guys. Wanna meet back here Friday? When Trace is done making an example out of you to the newbies?â
There was no malice to Bradleyâs statement, so Bob had no problem laughing right along with him. When the laughter died down, Bob agreed to the meetup suggestion. There was a tentative feeling of hopefulness in his chest. After all, if this person was friends with Bradley, how bad could they really be?
~*~
You buried your face in your hands as you shook your head. When Bradley had asked to stop by because he had news for you, you didnât think he was stopping by to tell you that he had gone out hunting and gathering a new roommate for you. You hadnât asked him to do thatâyou hadnât asked him for anything in regards to your living arrangements, actually. And thatâs exactly what youâd told him when he said heâd found you a brand-new roommate.
âI donât even know this guy.â
Bradley laughed and shrugged as he hopped up to sit on the edge of your kitchen counter. For how comfortable he was, you were surprised that he hadnât taken the opportunity to move in after your ex moved out. He treated your apartment like it was his own house anyway.
âI know him. Thatâs not enough for you?â
You shot him a look over your shoulder as you went and grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. âNo. Itâs not.â You tossed him his own can before getting one for yourself. âYou saw what I went through getting the last man out of my apartmentâwhy are you inviting another one in without telling me?â
He laughed as he watched you dramatically swing the refrigerator door shut. âOkay, come on, you canât compare him toââ
âI canât compare him to anyone because I havenât met him.â
âWell if youâd let me get to the end of my story, you would have the solution to that problem.â He paused and waited for you to motion for him to continue before saying, âI told him weâd meet him at The Hard Deck Friday night.â
âI should flatten this can against your skull,â you said with a semi-affectionate roll of your eyes.
There was a long pause, one accompanied by a smirk on Bradleyâs face that had no real right to be there. âIâll pick you up?â
Letting out a deep sigh, you gave in with a nod. Worst case scenario, you wouldnât walk away from the night with a new roommate but youâd at least get to throw a couple drinks on Bradleyâs tab. That was worth a little bit of something.
~*~
Bob was checking the time on his phone, his beer on the bar barely touched. When heâd texted Bradley earlier in the day, everything was still going how it was supposed to, so now he just had to sit there and wait. He could do that.
When he heard the door to the bar open, he turned and looked out of habit. He saw Bradley walk in and he felt his shoulders relax in relief. When he focused enough to see who it was that Bradley had walked in with, though, his relief was almost immediately replaced by confusion. The two of you were talking, laughing as you wove through the other people in the bar, but it still didnât sink in with Bob that you were the âbuddyâ who was in need of a roommate. For a moment he was just assuming that you were a girlfriend tagging along that Bradley had failed to mention.
Bob almost got up out of his seat when the two of you stopped in front of himâthe only thing that kept him in place was the lingering sense of confusion. He looked back and forth between you and Bradley. He had no chance at guessing what exactly your expression meant, but heâd seen the smug look on Bradleyâs face enough times to know that there was something afoot. It wasnât the time to ask, though. Not in front of you.
âSo,â you broke the silence with an easy smile, âI hear that Bradshaw promised you my second bedroom?â
Your comment got a chuckle out of Bob, something to ease the tension a little bit, not that it did anything to quiet the chaos in his head at the moment. It did earn you a shoulder-bump from Bradley, who was shaking his head at you. âI didnât promise him anything. He said he needed a spot, I said I had a friend who needed a roommate.â He shrugged. âAll true.â
You gave a dismissive roll of your eyes before returning your attention to the man sitting on the barstool watching all of this unfold. As you introduced yourself, you wondered if the slightly bewildered expression on his face was a constant one, eyes a little wide behind the lenses of his glasses, nervous smile pulling at his lips.
The three of you made a few minutes of small talk before you ducked out for a moment to answer a phone call from work. Both men watched you as you walked away, and as you were bringing the phone to your ear, Bradley turned to try and pick apart the expression on Bobâs face.
âSo?â he asked, leaving it as open-ended as possible.
Bob pried his gaze off you so that he was looking at the man standing next to him instead. He shook his head slightly. âYou didnât sayâyou made it seem likeââ He pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit he had yet to shake.
Bradley laughed. âCâmon, sheâs not that bad.â
âI didnât say she was,â Bob corrected him quietly. âShe wouldnât rather haveâŠyou knowâŠâ
It was impossible for him not to at least chuckle at the way Bob was skirting around the things that he wanted to say. âShe just wants someone who doesnât make a mess and who pays rent on time. And who wonât eat her leftovers out of the fridge.â
âLast one sounds like you.â
He clapped Bob on the back with a grin. âThatâs why Iâm not the one moving in.â He paused, and he could see the thoughts going at a mile a minute in Bobâs head. âI wouldnât have said anything if I didnât think you guys would hit it off.â
Bob wanted to make a comment to the effect of, âThatâs kind of what Iâm worried about,â but you reappeared before he could.
You plopped down on the stool beside his, giving a quick apology to the both of them. Looking back and forth between them, you wanted to ask what theyâd been saying in your absence, but you had a feeling that if you needed to know, Bradley would tell you in the car on the way home.
Moments after you sat down, Penny materialized with a drink for you, and she handed a bottle to Bradley as well. You thanked her, amused that Bradley actually was letting you rack up his tab. Once you took a sip, you turned to Bob.
âSo, is this the part where we get to play Twenty Questions?â
He laughed as he shrugged, fingers drumming against his leg. âI guess so.â
You smiled as you nodded. âAlright.â You motioned for Bradley to sit down next to you. âBradshaw can play referee.â
~*~
Three weeks later the moving truck was parked outside your apartment building and there were boxes piling up in what had previously been a spare room that was sometimes your office, but more often just a place for all of your clean but unfolded laundry to hang out.
Bob was timid those first couple of weeks living together. It was endearing in a way that you hadnât expectedâmost of Bradleyâs friends from the Navy didnât seem to be wired like that. Bob was a nice change of pace from it all. Every time he wanted to move or add something somewhere, he always asked, always had that same little nervous smile on his face when he did. You never told him no.
The first month or so of living together was just a big old learning curve. You learned that the two of you ran on different rhythms and schedules. Bob was an early bird, whether that was by choice or necessity you never asked. You were a night owl, though. Always had been. Luckily, you also learned that Bob was a heavy sleeper and that he was quiet in the morning when he was getting ready, so the two of you didnât infringe upon each other much.
You learned that Bob liked to cook, was good at it even, but still hadnât mastered how to just cook for one. That was how he learned that you had no problem doing the dishes if he was okay with sharing his food. He never told you no either.
Bob learned that most of your spare time was spent with your nose in a book or a notebook splayed across your lap while you wrote. He only ever asked once what you were writing, and when you gave him the vague answer of, âStories,â he gave you a smile and a nod and went back to ironing his uniform. You learned that the only times Bob stayed up late was when he was playing videogames with his friends. Most of them were from the Navy, some of them were from back home. You knew which ones were which because his Navy friends had their callsigns in their gamertagsâso original of them. That was also how you learned that a good handful of his friends in the Navy werenât very good at first-person shooter games, which was deeply ironic given their professions.
By the time the third month of living together had come and gone, Bob also learned that he was falling in love with you a little bit. Or a lot. The amount of it didnât matter, he supposed. None of it was going to help him.
~*~
You enjoyed living with Bob more than you thought you were going to. You had been willing to settle for a roommate that you could at least tolerate. You just needed someone that you could exist in the same space with sometimes when necessary. But after those first couple of weeks, it felt like almost all the time that the two of you were home at the same time was spent in the same space. Or youâd be in the living room while he was in the kitchen. Youâd been ready to hole up in your room a little more often, but it never felt like you had to.
Bradley was as incessant as ever, arguing that he now had twice as many reasons to drop by unannounced now that Bob was living with you. You both knew that it was an argument youâd never win, and it wasnât as though you didnât enjoy his company too. By the time the first month passed, Bradley had lightened up on his weekly inquiry of, âIs this guy givinâ you any trouble?â You all knew that he never was.
Youâd been waiting for the day that the surprised look would fade from Bobâs face whenever you got home, or emerged from your room, but it never did. From surprised, to smiling, to going back to whatever heâd been doing before you got there. Round and round again.
Bob never thought about how many different names he had until the two of you really got comfortable around each other. Most of the time he was Bob, which was what he was used to both on and off the base. That was the status quo.
But every now and then youâd switch it up. Like if he startled you coming home from his early-morning run, or if you didnât hear him walk into the kitchen from his room. Then youâd call him Robert, in that fake-chastising tone that always had you trying not to laugh. Or sometimes, when he was getting frustrated about something that didnât really matter too much in the grand scheme of things, youâd hit him with a little pat on the shoulder and a, âCalm down, Lieutenant Floyd.â And in moments like that he could hear it in your voice how long you and Bradley had been friends. If you tried to get his attention more than twice and still didnât have any luck, thatâs when heâd hear a sing-songy callout of Bobby coming from the other side of the apartment. That one always got both of you laughing.
You couldâve called him damn near anything, though, and he wouldâve come running. He wondered how long heâd be able to keep his mouth shut about it all.
~*~
The two of you had been living together for six months the first time he put his foot in his mouth about it. His only saving grace, if he could even try to call it that, was that heâd said it to Bradley and not directly to you.
It made Bradley completely miss his shot in their game of pool, but he didnât even care. He stood upright, pointing at Bob from across the table with his pool stick. âWhat was that?â
Bobâs eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He didnât need a mirror to know that his face was turning beet red. He could feel the warmth racing up the column of his neck and into his cheeks. âN-nothing. I didnâtânothing.â
Bradleyâs grin was so wide it was a wonder his face didnât crack clean open. âThat was something.â He walked over, paying no mind to the fact that Bob was trying to look at anything but him. âShe know? You say anything to her?â
Now it was Bobâs turn to miss his shot. His heart was beating fast enough that he thought it might short-out and stop working. If Rooster was trying to get some eye contact out of him, it certainly did the trick.
âNo.â Bobâs answer managed to come out clear and timid all at once.
He leaned back casually against the edge of the pool table. âWhy not?â
Bob shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor. ââCause weâre roommates.â
âSo?â Bradley let the look of disbelief on Bobâs face act as a response, and he continued. âYou should tell her. Want me to tell her?â
Bobâs eyes popped open so wide that Bradley was shocked they didnât break the lenses of his glasses. âPlease donât.â
âWant me to do some recon?â He stood upright again, no longer using the pool table for support. âFind out if sheâsââ
âNo.â
He chuckled, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. None of this was surprising to him, really. He knew it from the second that Bob saw you when the two of them walked into The Hard Deck that day. He was honestly a little surprised that it took this long for Bob to slip up to him about it. The kid looked like a pressure cooker ready to explode.
âShe hasnât dated anyone since you moved in, has she?â
Bob shrugged. âNo one that sheâs brought around, at least. But she also just broke up withââ
Bradley waved off the sentence before Bob could even finish it. âThat was almost eight months ago.â He paused, knowing that he had the answer to the question he was about to ask but it wasnât going to stop him from asking it. âYouâre not seeing anyone else, right?â
The red in his cheeks got a little darker but he didnât say anything, instead just shaking his head.
âSo Iâll ask her,â Bradley said, like that was the only rational response to the evidence laid out before him.
âDonât ask her.â Bobâs statement was somewhere between an order and a plea, not hitting either note quite right.
Bradley held his hands up in surrender, but the smirk still lingering on his face didnât make the truce feel too believable. âAlright, fine. I wonât say anything. But, if you change your mind,â he lined up his next shot, âlet me know.â
~*~
Bob never brought it up again. Truthfully, he was still kicking himself for letting any of it slip in the first place. He kept waiting for another comment, another question from Bradley. Anytime that he came over to the apartment, Bob felt himself get a little more on-edge. When he could hear the two of you on the phone, he couldnât stop the way his heart started to beat a little faster. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Bradley to open his mouth and say something.
Weeks ticked by with Bob waiting for the other shoe to drop. Youâd get home, or hang up the phone, and heâd sit there with bated breath. Heâd try to look like he was focusing on his laptop, or the gaming controller in his hand, but heâd be watching you in his peripheral.
And, of course, you never said anything about it. Bradley apparently never said anything about it. For all the buttons that he liked to push, Bob couldnât deny that he was surprised that his friend was managing to keep his mouth shut about this one. Maybe that was because Bradley had the feeling it was a lost cause. Bob tried not to think about it too much.
He definitely tried not to think about it on nights like tonight, when both of you were camped out together on the sofa. The original plan hadnât really been for the two of you to watch a movie togetherâBob had gotten home later than usual and you were already about ten minutes into the film when he walked through the door. Heâd had every intention of just showering and going to bed, but when he saw you curled up on the couch, throw blanket across you and an oversized bowl of popcorn in your lap, suddenly sleep didnât seem like such a big deal.
Heâd leaned over the back of the couch, a smile stretching across his face as he said, âGonna share that or should I make another bag?â
You yelped in surprise, nearly tossing the bowl full of popcorn in the process. âRobert!â You laughed, hand resting over your heart like that would get it to slow down. âYou canât do that when there is a serial killer on the screen.â
He cracked a grin. âSorry.â
You held the bowl up for him to reach easier. âI will share though, despite your entrance.â
Heâd grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn before walking off towards his room. âIâm just gonna get changed.â
âOkay.â You tossed a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it in your mouth. âHurry up before someone else dies.â
Now here you were, the only thing separating the two of you was the bowl of popcorn between you. Bob was paying enough attention to the movie to know what was going on, but heâd be lying if he tried to say that most of his attention was still going to you. Something about the fact that youâd chosen to put on a scary movie and yet you still seemed shocked every time something scary happened.
Like you were reading his thoughts, you spoke up as you half-covered your eyes. âI donât know why I do this to myself.â
He chuckled. âWe can put something else on.â
You shook your head. âNo, no. Iâm committed now. I need to know what happens.â
His smile grew a little wider, the rapid beat of his heart having nothing to do with what was happening on-screen. âWant me to tell you what happens?â
You looked over at him. âYouâve seen this before?â
He shook his head. âNo, but I can probably still tell you what happens.â
You rolled your eyes but you were still smiling, still blocking part of your view of the television on purpose like that would stop the things on screen from happening. âVery funny.â
âI thinkââ
Whatever he was going to say next got lost somewhere between his brain and his lips because you were placing the bowl of popcorn in his lap and scooting closer to him. You leaned so that your head was resting against the outside of his arm, throw blanket pulled up to your chin. Your legs were pulled up onto the couch, half-curled underneath you as you situated yourself against him. There was no hesitation in any move that you made, and Bob was trying to figure out if he was dreaming, and if he wasnât he was trying to figure out how to not spontaneously combust.
âIf this gets any worse,â you said, looking up at him for a moment, âthen Iâll ask for your predictions.â
He was glad it was dark enough in the living room so that you couldnât see how red his face was. All you could really see was him nodding, the reflection of the television on his lenses. âO-okay.â
The two of you managed to make it to the end of the movie, but you were practically curled so far into him that Bob thought you were just going to melt right into his arm. He didnât mind itâhe wished that the movie had dragged on for a little longer.
When the credits started to roll, you let out a deep sigh of relief but you didnât peel yourself away from him. Bob couldnât help but to let out a quiet laugh. âThis why Iâve never seen you watch a scary movie before?â
You laughed, shaking your head. âLike, twice a year I try to convince myself that I donât get that scared.â
âItâs working real good, then,â he joked.
You laughed, blanket still pulled up over your shoulders. âIâd say so.â
He reached for the controller. âWant me to put something less scary on?â
You nodded, reaching out of you blanket cocoon to grab a handful of popcorn. âYes please.â
He was expecting you to pull away once there was a comedy safely playing on-screen. He waited for the warmth of you and the blanket you were buried under to disappear. But it didnât. You stayed there just like that, casually stealing one handful of popcorn at a time till there was nothing but kernels left.
You made it halfway through the next film before you looked up at him again and said, âYouâre up way past your bedtime.â
He laughed softly and shook his head. âIâll be fine.â
Just as he finished saying that, he yawned. You smiled. âYou sure about that?â
He felt his face heat up. âIâm good.â
âSlumber party rules, you know. First one to fall asleep gets it.â
He felt himself melting back into the couch cushions a little more, body finally starting to relax more from tiredness than anything else. âWhatâs the punishment? Sharpie mustache?â
You laughed, resituating against him as you did. âNo, no. Thatâd be too meanâcanât have you walking around looking like Bradshaw.â
~*~
When you woke up in the morning, you were still on the couch. Alone. You had a pillow propped nicely underneath your head and rather than the throw blanket that youâd been using during the movie, you had a real comforter draped over you. It took a moment for you to put it all together.
You got yourself half upright, propped up on your elbows. Through half-open lids you looked around the apartment, the kitchen and the living room. You could see that it was empty but even so you called out a groggy, raspy, âBob?â
When you were met with silence, you fell back against the couch again. Dragging your hands across your eyes, you tried to wake yourself up a little more. You stared up at the ceiling, watching lights and shadows fly across it as cars drove by your building. People who were up and about much earlier than you.
You werenât sure how much time youâd spent simply lying there debating whether or not you wanted to get off the couch and attempt to salvage what was left of your morning. Just as you were getting ready to peel the blanket off you when you heard the sound of keys in the lock on your apartment door.
For a moment you about to sit upright, but then you could hear how quietly and slowly he was trying to enter the apartment. All those mornings sneaking in quietly after his runs so he didnât wake you, and this was the first time you were not only awake, but ready for it. You heard him toe off his shoes, heard the rustling of a bag that you were desperately hoping had donuts or bagels inside of it.
You were so busy being excited by the sound of iced coffee rattling against its cup that you almost missed the sound of Bob murmuring to himself. You couldnât quiet make out what he was saying exactly, only that he was whispering to himself as he set things down on the counter. Waiting a moment, you strained your ear in hopes to get a better idea of what he was saying.
When he stopped talking altogether, you sat upright. His back was to you as he pulled the drinks from the tray they were in, opened up the bag of pastries heâd grabbed. You smiled at the sight of him, a warm flutter in your chest.
âGot enough to share?â you piped up.
For once it was Bobâs turn to flinch, to spin on his heel in shock. His eyes were wide, paper bag clutched tightly in his hand. He was certain that if his life had been a cartoon you wouldâve seen the outline of his heart beating in his chest.
âUm, yeah.â He nodded, holding up one of the coffees as though to prove he was telling the truth. âYours.â
Standing up off the couch, you kept the blanket wrapped around you like the most oversized shawl youâd ever seen as you padded over to where he was standing in the kitchen. Reaching out, you took the iced coffee from him, a smile on your face as you took a sip. It was impossible to miss the way that Bob was looking at you, looking like he had something to say. You waited for it, but it never came.
âRehearsing lines?â you asked casually as you reached for the bag he was holding.
It seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in. âWhat?â
You pulled out one of the donuts in the bag. âWhen you came in,â you took a bite, âthought I heard you talking.â
His eyes widened a little bit, cheeks starting to flush pink. âOh.â
You smiled, tilting your head. âWhat?â
He picked up his own cup of coffee. He stared at it for a moment, swirling it around to buy himself a few extra seconds. His heart was beating so hard that he was expecting it to cause ripples in the coffee he was holding.
âI, um,â he cleared his throat, looking you in the eyes, âyeah.â
You set your coffee down, suddenly feeling a little foolish with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. âYou okay?â
He nodded. âIâm okay.â
Your smile was soft, warm. âYou sure? Looking a little wistful over there.â You saw the way a few sentences started and died on the tip of his tongue. Your lips started to dip down into a frown. âBob?â
âI really, uh, I really likeâŠliving here with you.â
Something akin to relief was creeping its way across your chest and you allowed yourself a small smile. âI like you living here.â You tilted your head slightly. âWhy do you look so worried about that?â
He managed a chuckle of sort. âBecause,â with each word he tried to get out, he felt like his heart was going to beat clean out of his chest, like his ribs werenât strong enough to keep it in place, âI donât want that to change.â
âWhy would it?â
âI love you,â he blurted out. âIâŠI love you.â The blush on his face darkened and he gave a weak smile. âThatâs not how I rehearsed it.â
You let out a laugh, one that was choked with emotion. It felt impossible to get the words out that you wanted, like they were all getting stuck in the back of your throat. You could see it on Bobâs face that he was trying to come up with the next thing to say.
Before either of you could implode, you collapsed the distance between you and kissed him. The blanket that had been around your shoulders fell to the floor as your lips caught his. There was a split second of hesitation, but once Bob realized that it was real, that this was all happening, he wrapped his arms around you. His hands splayed across your back, pinning you tight to him.
Your fingers threaded into his hair, leaning into him until he was snug between you and the counter behind him. Bob soaked it is, the way it felt to have the warmth of your body pressed against his. He was certain that this would be the time youâd hear his racing heartbeat, be able to feel it since you were so close. For once he hoped that you would.
You pulled away, just enough to be able to get a good look at his face. He brought one hand up to fix his glasses, the other staying on the small of your back. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as you tried to commit everything about how he looked in that moment to memory.
âI love you too,â you said, voice soft when you finally had it in you to string the words together.
You saw the smile on his face and then you felt it as he kissed you again. It was all laughter and soft touches and wandering hands. Months of bottled up feelings starting to reach the surface. With your palm resting against his chest, you could feel the speed of his heartbeat, but he didnât seem nervous now. For a moment you were surprised to find that you werenât nervous either. Then you felt the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he pulled you in for another kiss and you finally felt like you were home. And there was nothing more comforting than that.
(divider by @firefly-graphics)
Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of taglists please let me know!)
#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#bob floyd#robert floyd#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fanfiction#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x reader#x reader#x reader fic#my writing#fanfiction#drabblesmc
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rings (gojo x wife! reader)
in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if iâm missing anyone for the tag list
Thereâs a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the buildingâsome of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee.Â
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an âundergroundâ locationâa phrase that you wouldâve not expected her to use. Correctly at that.Â
âHow are you doing with that idiot,â your other friend, Shoko asks. âDo you guys still sleep in separate rooms?â
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. âThere's a âno smoking policyâ here. And to answer your question, no weâre not. Weâve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.â
âOn the same bed?â
âYes?â
âAnd thatâs it?â She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes awayâtaking another sip of her black coffee. âNothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissingââ
âYes thatâs it! Keep it down here,â you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffeeâthis time narrowing her eyes at you. âSo why are you sulking?â
âIâm not sulking.â
âYes you are,â she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. Theyâve always been so sharp. âSomethingâs bothering you so tell us.â
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. Youâre avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. âItâs stupid.â
âWeâre not gonna judge you,â Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
âOkay,â you start. âSomething feels like itâs missing. Not that itâs âToruââ
âYou call him âToru?â Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. âContinue.â
âThere's nothing wrong with âToru and I feel like Iâm expecting something from him. Weâre making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,â you pause. âI guess Iâm just wondering when heâs gonna give me a ringâŠâ
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. âThereâs no way that idiotâs that stupid.â
âBut that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,â Shoko adds. âSo? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?â
âThatâs not really my way of doing thingsâŠâ
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. âThings would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,â she says, holding a hand up when youâre about to respond. âBut I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.â
You replay your friendâs words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlesslyâthrowing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, youâve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usualânot that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. âOh? Whatâs this?â
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. âIâm making dinner for us since we havenât been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.â
âWell, aren't I a lucky guy?â He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. âYou mind if I take a shower first? I promise itâll be quick.â
âYour showerâs are never quick,â you comment, giggling at how he acts as if heâs been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited.Â
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. Heâs dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low âhelloâ as if somewhat shy.Â
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgustâfeeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. âIs it good?âÂ
âSo good,â he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at youâthe same grin that makes you feel warm inside. âMy wifeâs so talented.â
âItâs just curry rice,â you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize youâve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food.Â
The conversation takes off naturally. Heâs asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. Itâs all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. âListen (Name),â his voice is lower, nervous. âI know I should've done this before but it really didnât cross my mindâŠâ
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If heâs this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? Youâre already answering before he can finish. âYes.â
He blinks, peering directly at you. âReally?â
âReally,â you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table.Â
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. âWow I didnât know you liked Netflix so much.â
All of a sudden, the delusions youâve been building up topple like dominos. Your voiceâs stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. âHuh?â
âI was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.â
âY-Your Netflix account?â You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey.Â
It was Gojoâs turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. âThatâs what weâre talking about right?â
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. âYeah! I love NetflixâŠâ
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at youâgulping as if hiding a secret of his own.Â
âI want to give you something,â your husbandâs voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch.Â
He smells good, you think to yourselfâearthy and fresh. Itâs faint yet itâs enough to make you dizzy. âSomething?â
âThatâs right,â he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, youâre faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. âI canât take this!âÂ
Youâre left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. âWhy notâŠ?â
âBecause I just canât!âÂ
âBut youâre my wife and I wanna spoil you,â he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly.Â
âI canât âToruââ
âYes you can,â he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you wouldâve found funny if he didnât just hand you his card. âTrust me on this one. Youâll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?â
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyesâhis mind piecing things together. âArenât you a sweetheart?â He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. âJust take it. Please?â
You think heâs doing it on purposeâthe way he looks at you as if youâre a diamond among rocks. Itâs hard not to say no when someone looks at you like thatâharder when itâs Gojo. You sigh. âFine. But Iâm not gonna use it often.â
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. âThatâs my girl.â
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomachâs doing somersaults as well
Itâs early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojoâthe sun barely awake just as you were. Thereâs the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing.Â
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your sensesâluring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheekâtry not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart.Â
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. âIâll be back home by dinner today. I promise.â
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your fingerâyour ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave.Â
It hits you a bit later than youâd expect and you wouldâve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts.Â
âToru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!âÂ
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
tags:
@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#fluff#arranged marriage#gojoâs wife series
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Arranged | Thranduil x Reader
Read on AO3
Pairing: Thranduil x Female Reader
Summary: The Mirkwood courts having successfully pushed Thranduil into accepting a new queen through an arranged marriage. However, he cannot seem to help comparing them to his former wife. When tensions run high and reader calls the whole thing off, Thranduil realises the error of his ways.
Content etc: Thranduil being a little bit of an ass I guess. Angst. Fluff.
Prompt: number 32 & 39 on this list
requested by anonymous (Iâm sorry this took literally forever and Iâm sorry if it isnât exactly what you wanted!)
word count: 4.6k
tags:Â @firelightinfernoââ, @achromaticerebusââ, @coopsgirlââ, @birbixo0912ââ, @desert-fernââ, @ancient-rimeââ, @lady-of-imladrisâââ, @weepingdreammarvelâââ, @asianbutnotjapaneseâââ, @deadlymistletoeâââ
âThis is wrong.â Thranduilâs voice snapped you out of your tangled thoughts and you lifted your head with a confused frown, looking back at him.
"What is?" You asked, not even having had any clue as to what it was that he was working on over there on the sprawling couch of his large private library.
Thranduil looked up and met your gaze. "The guards you have picked." He gestured to the paper in his hands as if it should be obvious. "They are not of a high enough level to guard the Queen."Â
âOh.â You gave him a quizzical look, tilting your head. You werenât entirely sure about levels and the like. Nobody had said anything yesterday. Nobody had even really told you much at all, in all honesty, you had been sort of left to fend for yourself. âI... didnât know anything about that. I just had to watch them fight and pick, you said. They appeared good enough for me. I think they would do just fine.â
The Elvenking blinked at you for a moment, his thoughts more critical than he would have liked. If you had not been sure, why had you not asked? Deep down, he knew that you could not possibly have known to ask because he had not told you that you could, or should. Heâd told you to pick your own guards and then left you in the training grounds to attend a council meeting. However, Thranduil had simply assumed you would have asked for help or clarification if you had needed it. And clearly you had if this list was anything to go by. As it was, you had not wanted to cause a fuss, or look foolish, or add more work to the kingâs heavy load. The soldiers showing off their skills had seemed capable enough and that had been all youâd thought you needed to look for. Besides, how would you know anything about their levels? You still did not yet know everybody here.
Thranduilâs silence was uncomfortable but then he simply tsk'd and lowered his gaze again. He shrugged, almost to himself, but he did not sign off on the document. He simply scored something out before setting it to one side to go back to later. He would pick, he decided. If he let you choose low levelled guards, how would they protect you?
She would have chosen better, he thought, though it was there and gone again so quickly that he did not notice heâd thought it at all.
You eyed him for another long moment before you moved to leave the library, heading away down the corridor. He had been in a fairly strange mood all day and you supposed you should leave him to it. Not bad, exactly, just... distracted, perhaps.
Most likely he was still struggling a little with this entire situation and you couldn't really blame him for that because it was still so very strange for you too. To have wound up in an arranged marriage with the King of Mirkwood. You yourself were from LothlĂłrien, daughter of an important elf in the Lord and Lady's court.
While unexpected, you could see the positives in such an arrangement and, truthfully, you liked Thranduil. He had been kind to you, at least when you first met and agreed to this. However, now that you had actually moved here, it seemed a little like he had been taking offence to every single decision you made. Heâd give you things to do and then seem unsatisfied with the way you had done them. It was frustrating but you could only assume he was stressed and that he would soon relax.
You went to sleep that night hopeful that tomorrow he would be in a better mood.
You found him in his study the following afternoon and felt relief when he looked up and smiled at you. "I hope you slept well. Are you prepared for the feast tonight?" He asked, holding his hand out to bid you closer.
"Mostly. I just have to decide what to wear." You told him, moving into the room and seating yourself beside him. âIt is still between two dresses.â
He sat there looking at you with an expression that you couldnât quite decipher and it was almost as if he was studying something in your very soul. âOh? You are not... set by now?â It seemed far too late to not have the entire outfit prepared.
You shrugged, always having been a bit more carefree and lazy in your decision making. You were a bit of a procrastinator and did not altogether mind if you left things to the last minute. Sometimes this was simply because you just... forgot. A far cry from the King beside you, of course. Also unbeknownst to you, a far cry from the Queen who had come before.
Thranduil raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. His displeasure, however, radiated from him in waves in the silence that followed as he looked back down at the paperwork on the desk before him.
"Thranduil?"
"What?" He did not look up.
âSomething troubles you.â
He responded with a non-committal grunt and you frowned at him, watching as he pretended to read whatever was on the desk but you could tell his mind was now elsewhere. You sighed and stood to leave the room.Â
As you turned, Thranduilâs hand suddenly reached out and grasped your own. You turned to find him looking at you, a soft smile on his lips once more. âYou will look beautiful whatever you wear.â
Returning his smile, you ducked your head to hide the blush you could feel about to spread over your cheeks, and quickly took your leave.
Thranduil watched you go and then leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He liked you, he always had, but you were not quite what he had expected when he had finally relented to the pushing of his court to take a new Queen.
He had obviously agreed you would be a good choice. Your station in LothlĂłrien, your family tree, put you in a very good position to knowing how things worked... yet not entirely, it seemed. Something was a little... off now that you were actually here in Mirkwood with him.
Oh, you were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. You made him laugh. He enjoyed your company. There was simply something niggling at him in the back of his mind, something he couldnât quite figure out.
The feast came quickly, too quickly for you as the time just flew past. You had gotten caught up doing something completely unrelated and frowned when a maid rushed in to find you. Her relief was palpable but you didnât understand it until you realised the time and she had ushered you back to your room to get ready.
Thranduil was irritated. There had been a delay - nobody had been able to find you - and you were not ready for the feast. You were not here, and it took so long that he had to walk into the room alone and act as though nothing were amiss. He had promptly sat down and thrown back a rather large gulp of strong wine, irritated by the hold up.
When you entered the room - finally - you were a vision. He took in your hair, the ornamentation in it and around your neck, and the royal blue dress with pleased eyes that did much to allay his frustration.
Then, you went and tripped over the hem of the damned thing because you had not bothered to see that it had been properly fitted.
Luckily, you were close enough to the table at this point for him to grab you by the arm and keep you upright, but his irritation only grew at the scene that your little stumble had caused. The attention you caught was not the type he wished for, nor were the titters of laughter around the room.
She would never have left the fit of the dress to chance, nor would she have embarrassed him as such.
This time, Thranduil did catch the thought, but he quickly dismissed it as a simple stray musing that did not mean anything.
âAre you alright?â He asked, a little tersely, as he refilled his glass of wine.
You nodded, hardly noticing his tone yet as you willed the embarrassed flush in your cheeks to go away. You felt like the entire room had seen that and you cursed yourself for not even thinking that the dress might need proper attention. It just had not occurred to you.
âYes. Thank you.â
He grunted and you finally looked up at him and noticed the frustration he was trying to bury shining in his eyes. You frowned, feeling even worse. He could not be... angry at you? Could he?
After picking at the food on your plate and watching one dance (you dare not join in with your dress!), you rose and made your way from the table out of the room without a word. You were not in the mood now. Reaching up, you tore the circlet from your head as you walked down the hallway as quickly as you could.
âWhere are you going?â Thranduilâs voice came from the door you had just exited and you realised that he had followed you out.
Turning, you eyed him cautiously for a moment, trying to ascertain his mood, but once more he was quite the mask. âI am tired, Thranduil. I am going to bed.â
He nodded, moving closer. His gaze dropped to the circlet in your hands. âYou could not have waited until you were behind a closed door?â
âWhat does it matter?â You asked, shrugging at him.
Thranduil didnât respond but his brow creased just the slightest bit. Did it matter? He began to walk down the hallway and you turned to walk with him since it seemed that he was heading in the same direction you were anyway.Â
âAre you upset?â You ventured after a while, watching him come to a halt as your question reached his ears.
Thranduil blinked. Was he upset? He supposed that he was feeling frustrated. Annoyed. Angry, perhaps. Why? He turned his head to look at you, a soft frown of confusion on his face as he shrugged. âI suppose I am. A little.â
âWhatâs the matter?â
He didnât answer right away because, truthfully, Thranduil could not fully put into words what his problem was. What had gotten him so riled up over something that, logically, he told himself did not truly matter. Thranduil shook his head. âI am not rightly sure.â He offered his arm then. âCome, I will escort you to your room.â
But you would not be shut down quite so easily, and you shook your head. âYou must know what is wrong.â You insisted. âHow can I help you if you do not tell me?â
Thranduil frowned at you, his frustration growing once more. âI do not need your help.â He stated firmly, moving his arm closer so you would take it, but you still did not take it.
âWell, you need something. You-â
âStop. Please.â He snapped lightly, dropping his arm since it had become clear that you were not going to take it. He turned around and took a step away, not wishing to engage in this right now.
âThranduil!â Was he truly going to just turn away and leave? In the middle of a conversation? You could not quite believe it. âJust tell me what is wrong! Tell me!â
âShe would not behave thus!â He thundered as he spun back to face you, and then immediately fell silent. Horror seemed to fill him as he realised what he had just said.
You frowned softly back at him, shaking your head. âWho-â Your mouth snapped shut as you stared back at him, suddenly understanding with a sick sort of certainty.
She. Her. His deceased wife.
She would not behave in this manner. She would not behave how you were behaving. She would do things âthe rightâ way. She would do better.
You could not hide the hurt that bled across your face as the two of you stared back at each other in the long, deathly silence that followed. Thranduil seemed to be frozen, utterly stricken, but you did not see it past your own dismay. Then, you were gone. Turning and fleeing from him, away down the corridor towards your own rooms.
Thranduil did not see you for two days.Â
He tried to seek you out that same night but he had not been able to find you and, so, retired to his chamber to wait until you were ready to talk. However, it seemed that you were not willing to talk at all as, two days later, he received word that you had been seen sneaking into the stables with a bag full of your things.
Had it not been for you carrying your own belongings, Thranduil might have dismissed it and told them to simply follow you from a safe distance to keep you safe. As it was, he was immediately up from his chair and out of the door before the guard who reported to him could blink.
He rushed to the stables, finding you still trying to attach a bag to your horse, clearly frustrated that you could not get it secure. The animal, too, seemed unamused with your attention - blowing air through its nostrils and scuffing its feet.
âGoing somewhere?â He asked quietly from the doorway, causing you to jump because you had not even heard him arrive, too focused on your irritation.
You stared at him for a second and found that looking at him hurt. You did not respond, you just turned your attention back to the horse and continued fiddling with the bag but nothing would attach the damn thing to the animal so you eventually huffed in exasperation and let it drop to the floor of the stall.
A silence followed.
You could feel Thranduilâs eyes on you but you did not look up at him.
âI never meant to hurt youâ Thranduil said softly after another moment and you could hear the regret in his voice but you still didnât look up at him.
Instead, you shrugged. âBut you did.â
âYes.â He agreed quietly, sighing. âI did.â
Of course, you did not resent him thinking of his wife. How could you ever? She had been a good Queen and an even better wife from all that you had heard of her. You had never met her, not even on a trip sheâd taken with the King long ago to LothlĂłrien. But you had heard a lot about her and she sounded amazing. She was the love of his life, the mother of his only son, and you truly had never expected to replace her but to have him compare you in such a way... it had hurt, you could not deny that.
You were so different, you understood that, but... you were two completely different people and it did not feel fair for Thranduil to hold you to this standard that you had not even realised you had to meet. Yes, you were to be a queen and yes, you had a lot still to learn especially about Mirkwood and its own politics... but you were trying. You really were! All you needed was his help, not criticism. How could he not see that?
âPlease just talk to me.â He said, his voice full of obvious unhappiness. His eyes dropped to the bag on the ground. âWhere are you going?â
You held in a sharp comeback about why you should be expected to talk to him when he did not wish to do the same two nights ago. At his question, your gaze turned to the bag and you sighed, shaking your head. You bent down to pick it back up and began once more attempting to fasten it securely to the horse. âHome.â You said.
Thranduil blinked. âThis is home.â
You frowned and your head snapped up to look at him. âThis is your home... and clearly I am not welcome in it.â You hated how your voice shook just a little. You wanted to sound brave and firm, not like a hurt little girl. âI am returning to LothlĂłrien. You can call off all the arrangements.â
Thranduil stared at you then, watching while you struggled with the bag, as the reality hit him. You were going home, you were... calling off the wedding?
His arm shot out and he took hold of the bag, wrenching it gently but firmly from your grip. You gave a sigh and lifted your eyes to his face. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? You shook your head at him, throwing your hands up in a defeated manner.
âDo not leave.â He said, his voice quieter than he would have liked. He was certain it shook a little... but you did not notice.
âWhy?â Was all you could ask, scoffing a little as you shook your head again. âWhy should I stay here, Thranduil? I did not come here because I have no other options, I came here because I... I like you and I trust you and...â You trailed off, lowering your gaze for a moment, one of your shoes (which were absolutely not suitable for riding a horse in the first place) kicking at the straw covered ground. âI will not... settle for a life where I am never good enough, where I am always second best. A life in the shadow of a memory. A beautiful memory, do not misunderstand, and one I would never want you to forget... but I am not her, Thranduil! I am not her and I never will be and I am sorry but... I cannot stay here, not like this.â
Another silence filled the stable.Â
You looked away, at the horse, running your fingers through its mane. The animal was no longer in a mood now that you had stopped messing with the bag. You watched as it lazily chewed on some hay. Thranduil still had your bag in his hands, his fingers anxiously fiddling with the strap, his eyes on his hands. He felt ashamed and for a long moment he could not speak.
âYou were never second place to me.â He whispered eventually, his eyes filling up with tears as he realised just what he had done. What he had made you feel. What he had made you think. âNever. You are not. I...â He faltered, grasping for the right words but he could not find them. âI know... what I said, what I have done, it was wrong. I cannot excuse myself, I do not even know why I...â He paused, frowning.Â
You didnât look up, though you could see him in your peripheral vision. He seemed to be struggling. He was not always good with words when it was not about politics or battle.
âI did not realise I was doing it at first,â he continued after gathering his thoughts once more. âThere is no excuse and I do not say this to make one. I simply... she is the only queen to have ever graced my rule. I was thrust onto the throne so quickly... and I was grieving and she had to... truthfully, she had no choice but to take control of many things until I was more... present.â More in the moment after watching his father die, after that dreadful day, after suddenly becoming a king. âMy mother died long before I even began to pay real, proper attention to anything... royal. I... my wife was the only queen I have ever known here, I remember how she did everything, I grew used to it. I forgot that you... do not know and I did not help you properly when I know that I should have. So I compared you to her and it was not fair of me. You did nothing wrong. I am sorry. So, so sorry.â He did not really expect forgiveness, he did not feel that he deserved it, he did not feel that he should receive it. To have hurt you... it pained him. âI love you.â
You turned your head from the horse to Thranduilâs face, the shock evident as you stared back at him for a few very long minutes. Had you heard that correctly? Did he... did he say...?Â
Over this time, you had developed your own feelings towards the king. He was not perfect, though to outsiders he may look it, but that was probably part of why youâd fallen for him in the first place. You had not been able to help yourself.Â
In the beginning, after he had approached you and your father with the idea from his council of an arranged marriage, it was not something either of you had rushed into. He had spent some time getting to know you better, for he did not wish to wed somebody he did not at least get along with. Heâd been clear on that with his councillors and advisors. Heâd written you letters after he returned to Mirkwood, he arranged visits for you to come and spend time with him. He showed up in LĂłrien once with no other reason than to offer you a bouquet of wildflowers he had picked himself, then he took you on a walk through the forest and the two of you just... talked. After all of that, it had been so easy. To say yes. To agree. Though you had known, you had known, that he would never love you. He cared for you enough, you knew that, but as a friend. He would never love you as he loved her. At least thatâs what you had presumed.
âYou...?â Was all you could say, still staring at him in absolute shock.
Thranduil nodded, the tears in his eyes that heâd managed to keep at bay finally beginning to spill down his cheeks as he blinked. He glanced down, embarrassed, lifting his thumb to his face and swiping away a tear. âYes.â He whispered. âI... I should have said it before, I should have... shown it better. I am so sorry... but please.â He lifted his head again, his eyes wide as he looked at you quite desperately. âStay. Please... do not leave me.â
You were staring at him, frozen for what felt like a long time, and Thranduil began to lose hope. You would leave and he would never see you again all because of his own stupidity. He knew you did not love him that way, that you had agreed to this as his friend, but he needed you to stay here, he could not bear to lose you.
When your voice finally came, it was but a whisper, and there were now tears in your own eyes to match Thranduilâs. â...I love you too.â
Now it was Thranduilâs turn to stare at you. He looked like he could not comprehend what had just come out of your mouth. He looked like he did not dare believe it. You stepped towards him, your hand dropping from the horse as you reached for the bag in his hands. He let you take it and you swung it up onto your shoulder out of the way, taking one of his hands in yours. You were still hurt but you could not believe this had happened... and maybe this was just something you both had needed to go through, to be able to get past it. Something his mind had needed to work through.
âI love you.â You said again, a little louder. You felt his hand squeeze yours and you lifted your free one to his face, wiping away his tears. He looked like he dared not even hope that what you had just said was true.Â
âYou do?â He asked then, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you while you wiped his tears away. His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest as he looked back at you. He was not fully sure he had even entirely admitted to himself that he loved you until right now. Heâd felt it, heâd been aware of how fond he was growing of you despite those other thoughts, but he hadnât fully come to terms with his feelings - he had not felt such love in a thousand years.
You nodded, your anger fading away, leaving both your hurt and your love behind. âYes... I do.â You confirmed, sighing as you took his other hand. You heard his breath catch in his throat and you gave him a sad little smile. âIâm sor-â
âDonât.â Thranduil said immediately, shaking his head firmly as he cut you off. âDo not. You have nothing to apologise for, you did absolutely nothing wrong. I am the one who was in the wrong. You will make a good queen. I should have told you this... I should not have gotten upset over such trivial things. Dresses...â He scoffed at himself. âNone of that matters.â He said, glancing down shamefully. âI do not want you to think that I... that I do not appreciate you for who you are or that I wish you to be somebody else... because I do not.â He shook his head. âI love who you are, I love everything about you. I am so sorry.â
You could practically feel your heart soaring to the heavens. You simply could not believe that Thranduil felt this way about you and, despite your hurt over his words, you were quite overjoyed. You finally smiled and Thranduil took a steadying breath before he moved. He leaned towards you, slowly so you could turn or pull away if you did not wish it, but you stayed perfectly still and waited for him to kiss you.
When he finally did, it was like electricity. It was like something you had been missing your whole life suddenly clicked into place and you removed your hands from his to loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer. His own tentatively moved to hold you gently by the waist. When he broke the kiss and you opened your eyes again, you could tell by his expression that he truly felt the same, that he was floored by all of this, and you could see how deeply he regretted hurting you, making you feel inferior, second best.
âYou will stay?â He asked then, still sounding a little uncertain, despite the fact you had kissed him and admitted you felt the same way. He was worried he might have ruined everything before he even got the chance.
You gazed up at him and you nodded. âYes... I will stay. Of course I will.âÂ
There was still a sadness in your eyes that broke Thranduilâs heart to know that he was the one who put it there and he vowed to do everything in his power to make up for what he had done.
âI will never make you feel that way again.â Thranduil told you, his voice extremely firm, his gaze sharp but loving. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek. âI promise.â
You smiled and he kissed you once more before he took your hand, leading you from the stables and back into the palace, back to the future with you that he was more grateful than he could ever express to have not forever ruined.
#thranduil x reader#thranduil x you#thranduil fanfic#lotr x reader#hobbit x reader#thranduil fanfiction
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Negotiations (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)
Summary: Joe puts you in the glass cage and makes you negotiate for your freedom
Warnings: typical creepy Joe behavior (implied stalking, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, etc.), the reader either doesn't understand the full gravity of their situation or just doesn't care
A/N: I realized I never officially wrote something for it so here y'all go (this was written super quickly so idk if it's any good or not)
"So I had to do it, you see. I had to get rid of them. I had to save you," Joe insisted frantically, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was you.
You'd woken up in the infamous glass cage underneath the bookstore he worked at, curiously looking around. The only thing you'd said so far was to ask where to you, to which he replied "somewhere safe". Talk about ominous.
"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" You spoke up suddenly, as you soon realized upon inspecting the inside of your new home that there wasn't a toilet. There was, however, a bucket.
"Well..." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided the question. It didn't take much for you to put two and two together.
You gave him a look that was a cross between disgust and disbelief. "I can't pee in a bucket, Joe."
"I'm sorry, but I can't just let you out." He felt bad, sure, but he had to do this. He had to make sure that you were safe, even if it meant making you a little mad at him.
Crossing your arms, you turned in the opposite direction, refusing to look at him. Clearly you weren't too fond of your new living arrangements and were choosing to pout.
"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad," he lied upfront as he watched you. It was that bad, actually. Using a bucket to go to the bathroom was pretty gross.
And now he was starting to feel bad for putting you in this kind of situation. Anger was one thing, that he could handle. He could brace himself against that, or he rationalize away your worries or fears, but you seemed less genuinely upset and more annoyed than anything else.
He let out a heavy sigh as he contemplated his options. You were ignoring him, and he just couldn't have that. "If I let you out, you have to promise not to run away from me or anything like that. Understood?"
As if on cue, you turned back to face him again, a look of hope in your eyes. "Really?"
Joe tried not to let out a laugh when he saw you get close to the glass and press your face against it. "Yeah, really. Just- you have to move in with me. I don't want you living alone anymore. And I have to know where you are at all times."
Sure, he knew he could just follow you like usual, but he wanted you to be able to trust him. "And there's certain people that I don't want you hanging around anymore. Deal?"
Oh, god, what was he saying? This was going to be too much to put on you all at once. He should've just started with one small thing and gone from there, he shouldn't have given you an entire list-
"Deal."
Your voice instantly cut through his thoughts. Part of him wanted to believe you, even if he was a little suspicious that you'd agreed so quickly. Then again, you seemed so sincere, trusting even, observing him the same way anyone who truly loved their partner would: like he was the only thing that mattered.
"Could you let me out now? I really need to go pee."
Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to the door of the cage and unlocked it, letting you out. "Remember what I told you, alright? I don't want to have to put you back in there," he tried to make himself sound stern, to show you that he wasn't playing around when he said that.
To his surprise, you responded by giving him a hug. "You're such a sweetheart, caring about me so much," you muttered affectionately.
He couldn't stop himself from melting into your touch. If this was an act, it was certainly working.
"I'll never, ever leave you."
God, you were going to be the death of him. "And I'll never let you go," he promised in turn.
He really meant it when he said that. He was never going to let you go. Not that you seemed to mind.
End notes: I don't know if this is any good or not honestly. I really wanted to write something for Joe but I was kind of at a loss for what exactly to write about so đ€· send me some ideas though if y'all want
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would you be willing to write either an alessia x reader or a leah x reader who has ADHD? i loved your alexia piece. it made me feel super seen â€ïž
Fitting In
Alessia Russo x reader request
-> A struggle day with Alessia - ADHD!Reader
-> @anon Makes me so happy to hear that you felt seen! These are things that actually happen in my day to day life - and adhd presents so different in people, please don't be offended if this doesnt fit you!
âł Masterlist
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âBaby?â Alessia's shout echoed through your shared home â the blonde had just come home from practice and was excited to spend a nice, relaxing evening with her girlfriend. But just a couple of seconds later she could see that the rest of the day would be a bit more chaotic than she had originally thought.
âWhere are you?â Win, the Arsenal dog whined quietly booping her nose on Alessia's shin, trying to get her attention. With a sigh the striker took off the collar, letting the chocolate lab loose â just to see her race to the living room carpet where she dramatically flopped down with a loud huff.
âBedroom!â Carefully Alessia opened the door, she never quite knew what to expect behind closed doors when it came to you. Maybe you would be dying your hair, trying her clothes on, or simply staring into the abyss. While she had been preparing herself for the worst, seeing you re-arrange furniture wasnât so bad.
âHi, Lessi!â The footballer did her best to ignore the heavy desk you were pushing around, instead giving you a kiss, melting at your huge grin and sparkling eyes.
âYouâve been quite busy huh?â You have been. The Wardrobe had been replaced by the bed and the bed with the desk â or at least your girlfriend guessed that you wanted it to go there.
âHelp me?â She didnât need much convincing, but the sheepish smile on your face certainly did the job.
With a gentle push, you were removed from the desk, as Alessia couldnât watch your struggle any longer. With just a few expert nudges and lifts it was where you wanted it to be, with you directing the blonde.
âDone!â She brushed off her hands as if she were brushing off dirt from hard labor. With a smug smile, she saw you stare, particularly at her arms (still wearing her Arsenal training tank top), before she pulled you into a bruising kiss â large hands resting on your hips, fingers digging into your bum.
âDid you get groceries amore?â Oh right. There had been a reason why you had wandered in here, you originally had planned to get dressed and go shopping but all of a sudden you just felt an incredible urge to re-arrange the furniture. âSorry, Lessi.â
With a soft chuckle, Alessia kissed your forehead, she knew that you didnât do it on purpose, you never did. You just were forgetful. âHow about we go out to eat?â That was the most brilliant idea you have ever had. Usually, you would order in because Alessia was too tired from training to actually go out â so it was a nice change. âThat sounds fantastic baby. But itâs gonna be noisy and busy, you okay with that?â Your excited nodding was enough to melt her heart all over again. Bless you, so excited to go out with your girlfriend.
âIâm gonna have a shower, yeah?â You didnât really realize what Alessia said until you heard the water running. âNo Lessi!â As fast as you could you made your way to the bathroom, your girlfriend still in front of the mirror taking off her makeup. âCan I have it first? Iâll literally be ten minutes!â With one or two bats of your lashes, the blonde agreed, leaving you in the bathroom.
âHey, google â play shower list! No, play Date playlist!â You had to repeat yourself, your Alexa was too confused with your wishes. The water was still running as you took Alessia's place, looking at yourself in the mirror. âShould I wash my hair? But I washed it yesterday â Shit. I didnât do that washing did I?â There was no one to answer you, you were talking to yourself. On your way to the laundry room you nearly tripped over Win. âWinnie! Youâre here! Oh, I love you so much!â
âAmore?â
No answer.
âAmore?â
With Win in tow, you climbed back up the stairs, already seeing Alessia with a big goofy smile in the bathroom. âShit. I left the shower on.â The dog excitedly yapped once she saw the familiar blonde, her tail hitting your leg. âYes, you did.â She wasnât mad â she was laughing, and she had shut the water off. âOh my god. Iâm so sorry Less. Promise Iâll go now.â
âYou havenât had it yet?â Win was once again whining for attention but stopped once you leaned down to pet her head. âNo, I want downstairs and I was doing the washing because I forgot to do it earlier.â By now you had eventually taken off your socks and outer layer, just in your underwear now.
âI just need to get my skincare stuff.â Why it was in the kitchen you didnât really remember, however halfway down the stairs, you remembered the disgustingly cold showers. âNeed the shower to warm up first!â Up you went again.
Now with your skincare, water warming up, the right music, and the laundry on â you were ready to actually get in, until you werenât. Your sister had sent you a TikTok, which left you to doom scroll for a while before Alessia eventually came back up. âAre you done amore?â
She knew that you hadnât been in yet, the half-Italian always knew when you were having a hard day, and today was one of them.
âI donât know if I want to shower yet.â Your girlfriend could see the frustration building up in you, so she pulled you in a hug. âThatâs okay baby. Can I go?â The defeated look on your face was all she needed, cooing over your sad little face before shoving you out the door after calling Win to keep you company.
Whilst the footballer was in the shower, you had tasked yourself with picking outfits for the both of you. Picking Alessiaâs was easy, not only did she look good in everything, but all her clothes matched, so there was no bad choice.
When the blonde entered the bedroom she couldnât help but laugh at you standing in front of the full-body mirror, wearing a cropped puffer jacket you had bought last week. Your lips in a pout and cheeks red in frustration â something was wrong.
âYou okay baby?â
Boom, tears. Knowing that Alessia knew you and all your little signs meant the world to you. âI hate this jacket.â
âBut you just bought it last week, whatâs wrong with it?â by now she was standing in front of you, opening it up, closing it again, turning you around to get a better look, trying to figure out what is bothering you. âItâs the sleeves, look.â You thrust your hands out, the sleeves rising up so that your wrists were out.
âMaybe itâs the hood?â Your girlfriend pulled the zipper on the detachable hood, taking it off and abruptly throwing the hood itself on Winâs head. âWhat do you think? I think you look great!â You had to admit, that it was better, but the sleeve situation was still bothering you. âNuh-uh. Wanna get rid of it.â With a final nod, Alessia helped you take it off, throwing the jacket on a pile of clothes. âElla was looking for one of those.â That was that. Ella would get the jacket.
In the end, Alessia chose your outfit, as you were much too busy playing with Win, who was pawing at you when you had flopped down next to her on the carpet.
Whilst you were getting ready Alessia grabbed the rest of your stuff â that you would definitely forget and run back in and out again until you have everything, like your wallet or lip balm.
As soon as you entered the restaurant you regretted it. There was so much going on and such a wave of noise that greeted you that you nearly just walked back out again â but your girlfriend had already picked out a table in a corner.
âLess I donât know what to get â Iâm like overwhelmed by the options.â Somewhere a child started screaming and a hoard of adults kept laughing at it very loudly. âItâs like I canât read the words that are literally right in front of me."
It started to beep everywhere in the big room. You had picked a popular restaurant in the area that had pagers that vibrated, blinked, and beeped when your food was ready so you could go and get it.
âWhat do you feel like amore?â You were zoned out, eyes empty staring at the menu, dead to the world around you. Alessia sighed, she knew that this would happen. âHow about Pasta?â You nodded, she knew which one you would like.
A couple of minutes later your girlfriend came back, with one of these little devices in her hand, placing it under her thigh on the stool, desperately trying to soften the glaring noise.
Suddenly the lights dimmed and a birthday song was played loudly over the speakers. As well as you could you held your ears closed as most guests started to sing and clap along. Just as the song ended your food was ready and Alessia went to go and get it.
âHow was training Less?â She could see your head swiveling around, overwhelmed by the lights, the noise, and the people â nonetheless, she took your bait, explaining what had happened at the Arsenal training center, appreciating that you tried to listen, and even asked questions.
Ten minutes into eating a children's birthday party sat down at the table next to yours, and as cute as the kids were â they were even louder than your thoughts. Screaming over the top of each other, begging for Ice cream for dinner and even yelling at the poor elders on their other side, trying to show them something.
âAmore? Are you overstimulated? Would you like to get this to go, and just go home?â
âYes please.â
Alessia went up to the register with your plates, while you packed up all your stuff, grabbing your jackets and Alessiaâs little bag that really only held her car keys.
In the car, you couldnât hold it anymore, and the tears just burst out of you in streams that seemed never-ending. âI-Iâm sorry Lessi, jus wanted to be like everyone else but I can't even sit in a restaurant.â. Your girlfriend cooed at you, gently stroking your thigh trying to calm you down a little. âWe donât need to be like anybody else. We can just be⊠Us!â
The rest of the evening was spent cuddled up on the couch with Win occupying one of the ends, stealing a blanket off of you, as Alessia covered you in hers as well. The wood was still warm when you ate it, even after changing out of the uncomfortable outfits and into big shirts and joggers.
âI love you amore. For you â you donât need to be like anybody else.â
#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso#woso imagines#arsenal wfc x reader#engwnt x reader#lionesses x reader#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader
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KARMA (Soap x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)
soap masterlist
summary; youâre a hockey player, but youâre also johnnyâs girlfriend. johnny comes to a realization after watching you get into a fight. 1.2k words!
authors note; this is not exactly what i envisioned, but itâs what i wrote. enjoy :-)
[WARNINGS: reader is implied to be a buff woman, violence, light blood and gore, suggestive content at the end.]
You and Johnny first met at a pub whilst he was on leave. He saw you from across the bar counter, looking up at a TV mounted above the bartender and sipping on something he doesnât care to remember. What he does remember is you.Â
God, Johnny never believed falling in love at first sight and he still doesnât, but holy hell did you stir something within him. Sitting there, back straight with your eyes glued to the TV, fidgeting with something circular, perhaps a coin, between your fingers. The way your bicep is bulging from the tight circumference of the short t-shirt sleeveâŠÂ
Johnny wasnât sure what exactly prompted him to talk to you, he definitely already came to the conclusion that you were likely going to just turn him away but holy shit, heâs damned if he left without trying to strike a conversation. Johnny ends up tilting his head, downing the rest of his drink for confidence before slipping into the seat next to you.
That day, Johnny learned that you were a pro hockey player for the professional womenâs hockey team back in North America. Honestly, Johnny was surprised but more so by the sport and not the fact that you played one. You told him you were visiting someone here in Scotland, a friendâhelping them move while your contract was being figured out. The more you talked, the more Johnny assured himself that it was absolutely a requirement to know you on some level.Â
Your voice captured his attention, your smile made his stomach tighten and bloom with warmthâeven if he couldnât convince you to go on a date with him, Johnny honestly would be just fine with being only friends. As long as he has a female hockey player in his contacts list, heâd be alright. You find out Johnny likes a bit of hockey himself, mostly paying attention to the international ice hockey federation. After learning that, to Johnny, he could see the way your eyes lit up.
Yes, you did agree to a date with this grinning man. Maybe quite a few dates.
Johnny found himself on his phone way more often whilst waiting with his team to be deployed. Constantly texting you, calling you, the whole nine yards. It earned him some glances and teasing from Ghost and Gaz, even his Captainâbut he could tell his boys were happy for him. Johnny seemed more relaxed, laid back instead of his pent up self.
A couple months into the relationship, Johnny was finally able to file for vacation related leave. He was excitedâsecretly so was Price, as Johnny doesnât really file for leave oftenâand you were ecstatic. It took a second to figure out arrangements, at the end of the day you insisted for Johnny to stay with you. Why stay in a hotel room when your spare bedroom is free? He was so reluctant, but you were so insistent with it.Â
âI have a practice game in a few hours,â You informed Johnny as you opened your refrigerator, taking out two cold water bottles stuffed somewhere in the door. You let the refrigerator door close by itself, and you tossed one of the bottles to Johnny. âWas thinkinâ you could come and watch?â
Johnny grinned, his lip curling ever so slightly where it exposes his top gum near his canine. âI would love to watch ye practice!â Johnny was enthusiastic with it; heâs being truthful, heâs been wanting to watch you in person. Johnny spent a couple nights binge watching the recorded games you played in on YouTube, which honestly was a slight mistake. You are a good player, great actuallyâbut it always stirs something deep in his gut. Something about you bodying another player, even if it warrants a penalty⊠Gets him hot and sweaty, honestly.
Thatâs how Johnny found himself sitting in a seat right by the glass, a few feet away from your teamâs bench. Tension filled his veins, making his shoulders rise to ears watching you, your team, and the practice enemy team skate around on the ice. The sounds of shouts, sticks slamming against each other as well as the ice, the collisions are harsh. Johnnyâs been watching you for a while, keeping his eyes on that jersey of yours and heâs been noticing youâve been slamming into this other woman.
Before bringing him to practice, you gave him a rundown of your team's roster, as well as the opposite teams. You overall had good things to say about nearly everyone, a smile on your face as you point to different peopleâs faces on the leagueâs website. Johnny watched the way your face contorted when you got to this one woman, though. He understands most beef stays on the ice, but the way you spoke about her? Johnny could tell there was something that remained on and off ice. You told him sheâs âfemale Tom Wilsonâ which made him wince a bit.
So, when he witnessed you collide with that woman for the third time in one practice match, he wasnât too shocked to see your gloves fly off. âHolyââ Johnny swears, standing up from his seat. His hands shoot to his head, holding it as he hears shouts and whistles blowing. Your hand is crumpled in the womanâs jersey, both your helmet and hers missing. Johnnyâs heart is pounding in his chest, his arms feeling heavy as both you and the woman slam into the glass right in front of him.Â
He reaches forward and bangs on the glass, his eyes widening as he watches your fist make contact with her face square in the middle. Johnny winces as he nearly swears that he could hear her nose crunching under the weight of your fist through the glass. Heâs not surprised when drops of blood splatter against the glass, but he still yells your name nonetheless. Part of Johnny is worried, knowing youâre against the woman who usually starts and wins fights, but.. You seem to be holding your own just fine.
Your fist pulls back and makes contact with her face over and over, blood smearing and snarls until a couple of your teammates pull you away from her by your arms. Johnnyâs eyes are glued to you as your teammates skate you backwards from the woman, following the curve of the arena. The woman is on her hands and knees on the ice, a couple of her own teammates checking on her. Johnny just barely glanced at how thereâs a dripping puddle of blood forming underneath her face because he canât stop looking at you.
A feral snarky look on your face, your nose bleeding and bashed, blood dripping from your nose to your teeth, from your lower lip onto your jersey. Your left eyebrow is torn open and so is your upper lip. Thereâs blood splattered across your knuckles, which are surely broken open and bruised themselves.
 Johnny hits the glass, his heart pounding but it skips an entire beat when you make eye contact. His breath stutters in his chest and Johnnyâs cursing himself under his breath because his job must have caused wires to cross in his brain.Â
You look so.. Fucking hell. Johnny feels himself chubbing up in his jeans, a hot shot of arousal shooting down his spine. Your ferality is making his head spin and he shouldnât be as turned on as he is from the way you spit a mixture of blood and spit onto the ice, being skated away and into the locker room, followed by your teamâs medic and an angry coach.Â
Johnny presses his forehead against his palms, trying to calm his racing heart, his lewd mind, and his cock.
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đđ©đ„đąđ-đźđ©
â â
'đđđđ«đŹ đđš đđšđŠđ' - đŹđđ«đąđđŹ
chapter summary: your first major argument that really shakes the foundations of everything, including your arrangement and its soul.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader
warnings: is that angst?, hurt/comfort?, swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, mature themes, satoru is trying to say something, utahime is the best, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).
author's note: well, I had a rough day. Also, question. Should I open a tag list? Someone ask about this (I remeber you, love ~) So what do you think about the chapter and the idea? Let me know :3
"Listen to me, I've had enough. Screw it." You threw a kitchen cloth over the countertop.
"I'm here to help YOU. Not to do everything for you! You've dumped everything on me and you don't give a shit about anything," you shout, feeling like throwing it all away. He frowned. "You think I'm going to look after the kids by myself and you're going to have free evenings to go off on your own no matter where? Oh no no no. I'm not your fucking housekeeper for you to treat me like that." You pointed your finger at him, your tone rising even more. You felt like starting to laugh at the anger. "Fuck you. I'm not going to put up with this kind of treatment for a second longer." Your step left the sound of a loud thud. He started to follow you.
"You agreed to this yourself, you knew it would be difficult!" you felt like punching him. You picked up your backpack from the wardrobe. You were silent.
"I need time to myself, these missions are exhausting! Still! Taking over the clan, doesn't make it any easier for me at all, you know!" you didn't listen to him at this point, you were on the verge of exploding and you didn't want to do it.
"Don't act like a brat and listen to me!!!" he grabbed you firmly by the arm, you pushed him forcibly away from you, putting your shirts in your backpack. You packed the first necessary things that came your way. Your face was boiling with anger, you felt like shouting everything in his face, but you knew it wouldn't change anything. You clenched your teeth tightly and bit your tongue repeating to yourself - pack, don't think, leave. You passed him on your way out of the room. You were already at the door, started putting on your jacket, when he added:
"FINE! Go away, I never needed you anyway, you stupid idiot!"
The sound of the door slamming was everywhere.
â
--
callingâŠcallingâŠcallingâŠ
"Hello?"
"Hi UtahimeâŠ" your voice gave away too much at that moment, as always "Could I stay with you for a while? I can't go back to the flat or to the facility" you grabbed your head, trying to contain your emotions. You were met with silence on the other side "Sorry to imposeâŠ. I won't⊠sorry⊠I'll go now- IâŠ"
"N-no! It's all right! I'm just worried, what's wrong?" you could hear her worrying about you, you were on the verge of crying, all the anger was slowly draining out of you.
"U-UtahimeâŠ" your voice was shaking.
"Never mind, wait for me, please, I'll pick you up myself, I'll be there soon. Wait for me where you usually do, can you do it?"
"Mhm." tears began to run down your cheeks.
A long sigh "What did that idiot do to you this time?"
â
--
You spent the evening glued to a box of ice cream and a comfortable couch in Utahime's flat. You sat in her borrowed clothes, covered in a blanket, gesturing heavily as you expressed your emotions.
It started with an angry session in which you spouted off about what a horrible asshole Gojo is. You recounted in detail, how he forgot to pick up the kids from school, leaving them out in the cold often. How he was constantly late, whether to go shopping with you or to a parents' meeting at school. How he avoided household chores, which you later had to do after missions, and at worst his duties were filled by Tsumiki and Megumi. It wasn't that they didn't have household duties or didn't know how to take care of the house - no. You didn't know any more mature or understanding children, it was just that Gojo lived there too and should contribute as much as you did. For the last months, everything was done by you: laundry, shopping, cleaning, doing homework with Tsumiki and helping Megumi with calligraphy.
On top of that, you had missions that were also exhausting you mentally, coming home battered, in wounds because you didn't want to wake Shoko up at 3am and preferred to wait until morning. And every morning it was you, who walked the children to school. It doesn't matter if you were beating a powerful curse last night or if you slept at all. They always had breakfast ready, clothes and your smile every morning. You knew they deserved it - you wanted to give it to them.
As you came home from school on the days like this, did your shopping, went to Shoko's and came back, you thought of nothing else, but to lie down and rest. It was then that you allowed yourself moments of weakness, where you could carelessly cry all over the house, with no embarrassment that the children, or worse Satoru, would hear you. Your life has been awful for the last while. There have been better moments, but there have been far more of the worse ones.
It was then, that the crying session began.
You couldn't stop the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. You didn't say anything anymore. You just cried, hugging your pillow tighter.
Utahime only saw you cry once, that time when Geto left. And that was the only time. This one was the second.
She handed you a pack of tissues, which you took advantage of by resisting new tears. After which you immediately went back to hugging the lovely cushion.
Why did you agree to all this in the first place?
Why did you allow yourself to do something like this?
Looking after children is not an easy thing to do, especially when you are alone.
.
.
Suguru would never treat you like this.
If you thought before that you were more or less in control of your crying, so after that thought, you definitely lost all the control you had. It was no longer a cry. It was hysterical. And you are not going to snap out of it any time soon.
â
--
"What are you doing?" the white-haired sat on the steps, drinking a can of sweet drink. They had just finished their training.
"I'm going to talk to her." said the raven-haired getting up from his seat, heading towards the dormitories.
"HUH? What for? She's the one who blew up at you, after all. She should be making an effort now." He crushed the can with cursed energy. His friend sighed.
"You don't understand, do you? It is not that clear, besides I care about her. I understand her view of the situation and even though it's wrong, I'm willing to talk to her about it." Suguru put his hands in his pockets slowly moving away.
"Stupid, why bother." Satoru rolled his eyes looking at the training field.
"Because she is important to me, her opinion, thoughts and feelings are important." he turned towards him, he continued. "A joint solution to the problem is important. In moments like this, it's crucial to push away your tantrums and reach out to someone." Suguru looked ahead "There have been situations where I have made a mistake and she has come to me on her own" he smiled affectionately "I appreciate her for this approach and I love her for it."
-
Satoru opened his eyes, waking up from the slumber that had caught him. He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock; it was late at night. Instinctively, he glanced to the other side of the bed to find it empty and cold.
He clutched his head, remembering what had happened. He growled quietly. You haven't come back yet, it's past day two, he's starting to worry, the siblings keep asking about you too. And he doesn't know what to answer them. Should he say you're gone because of him? He's already punishing himself enough in his head.
He nervously turned on his bed. What should he do?
He knows perfectly well what he should do.
To go to you and apologise is difficult.
On the very first day he called all your friends, to find out where you were. Utahime only failed to answer, so he was sure you were there.
He growled rolling over onto his stomach in frustration. He hugged the pillow tightly, so that if it were alive he would have strangled it.
Why do you make everything so difficult?
It was supposed to be a simple arrangement: you help him with the kids, he provides everything you need. Like some stupid traditional marriage - he thought.
This was not how he had imagined it. In his mind, taking care of a kid was not that difficult. Oh boy, he was wrong. Originally he was only going to take Megumi in, you were the one who insisted that he couldn't separate siblings like that, and since you'd already agreed to the arrangement, you also had a say. He only agreed to it because you insisted.
He did not expect things to go this far. He never imagined that he would have to falsify the children's documents (Tsumiki was, according to the law, already unfit for adoption), look for a suitable flat that you could barely afford at first, or bother with the authorities and social services.
He himself was also too young to understand many things.
He knew that anything was better than letting the Zen'in clan get their hands on these kids.
He also knew that he would not have succeeded in many things without you.
His face clung completely to the pillow. It was your pillow, it smelled of you. He took it from your side as soon as he lay down.
Everything had been getting to him lately. Higher-ups had some doubts about him taking over the clan, which was ridiculous in general. His mother found out about his secret marriage, which meant he had to listen for hours on âhow he had disgraced the whole clanâ. He had to work twice as much, having a child and expenses were really considerable. Even if you shared expenses, Gojo did not yet have access to the clan's money, to throw his own money on left and right with ease. He also stopped feeling like a teenager at this point, by taking on these responsibilities, he has accept to a certain extent, the fate of an adult.
He didn't even notice, how much he started to run away from it, to distance himself, from his problems and worries. He was never in the habit of sharing his true feelings or emotions. Opening up to someone was blocked again when his best friend left. He knew, that he had let you look inside him once, at one memorable conversation. He was so weak in that moment, so shattered, after all that had happened. And you? You embraced him then, with a tenderness and care he could never have dreamed of. He knew that if only he opened up again now, you would do exactly the same. But he couldn't afford to do it again.
He didn't want to feel that he wasn't able to cope with something, again. It's silly, isn't it? He, the strongest, vulnerable?
But you saw him vulnerable. You didn't laugh at him, didn't mock him in that moment. You were tender, you showed him understanding, even if sometimes you didn't quite understand what he wanted to communicate to you, you tried. You hugged him close, stroked his hair, telling him that you would be there for him, whenever he needed you - you would be there for him, as long as he was there for you.
He wasn't there for you, was he?
He was so focused on himself that he forgot about you. You've had a tough time too, particularly with him. You were alone with it all. No. He left you alone with it all. That's not what your agreement was about, that's not how he promised to behave, that's not how he really was.
He acted like an asshole. He dumped all his responsibilities on you and yet had the audacity to complain, that you had not fulfilled one little thing, which was picking up his ceremonial outfit from the laundry, what he should do, but he was sent on mission.
A small tear appeared in the corner of his crystal eyes. It disappeared very quickly absorbed by the pillow. He shouldn't treat you like that. He sighed breathlessly, banging his head against the soft pillow.
Tomorrow he will go to apologize to you. Witnter snow was slowly falling outside the window.
He won't last another day without you.
â
--
"Utahime~~ Nice to see-" she closed the door in front of his nose, sighing with irritation, regretting that her apartment door did not have a peephole.
You just had breakfast, looking like a total crap. You just got up, even though it was late in the morning, according to your routine you should have taken the siblings to school long ago.
Hearing his voice immediately lifted your gaze from your plate. How did he find you? Why did he come here?
Ah, well, yes, he probably came to ask you to fulfill your part of the bargain and stop dabbling. You sighed. You couldn't stay at Utahime's for that long anyway, you didn't want to bother her, besides, you hadn't packed enough clothes and necessities.
You didn't want to see him at this point, but you had no choice. You spent the last two days crying, you were fed up with it yourself.
You moved away from the kitchen table, put your plate in the sink and headed for the door.
"Go away! Don't you understand that she doesn't want to see you!" Utahime shouted at the door, angrly.
"Ee~ Come on, open the door. I want to talk to her, she won't answer my calls and texts, what a man can do?" his tone did not at all betray how concerned he was about the situation. His mask was perfect enough, that he was even able to smile a little in this situation. Although he was quite cold, despite really warm winter jacket, in his kinda shakey hands he held a small bouquet of flowers behind him.
"Go to hell you moron, I also, don't want to see you too, go away or I'm calling authorities!"
"Don't be like that! Five minutes and I'll be gone! Do a friend a favour~"
"I'm not your friend!"
"Like hell you are! I saved you many times, that counts right? Like that time when I excorcise that curse that took you hostage for two days. Or that time when I-"
Utahime was about to hurl another insult in his direction when you placed your hand on her shoulder. âIt's okey, give me a moment,â you whispered it so quietly that you wondered if you really said it. Her gaze expressed concern and yours expressed certainty. He had found you anyway, so why drag this out any longer? You knew he won't leave until you talk to him. âCall me as if you need something, or as if he doesn't give you a break." the violet-haired fell silent, moving away from the door and walking deeper into the apartment.
He didn't stop talking when you stood in front of the closed door. His yapping was unbearable, happily listing or coloring situations that happened to him with Utahime.
"Or when I-" he shut up when you open the door. He looked at you.
"You look like shit" he said.
"Thanks for noticing, something else to say?"
You had bags under your eyes, your voice was raspy and you looked paler than usual. When you looked in his direction, he could see how red your eyes were. He really messed up. He took a deep breath.
"If you came here to remind me of my duties, or to tell me that I'm going on a mission soon, or just to make fun of me, then go away and save us the time." you were so exhausted, however, seeing his face, which was smiling just a moment ago, gave you a new drive.
"I-"
"Ughh.. I am so done with this." you growled "You come here after two days and the first thing you find is that I look like shit? Thanks, I didn't notice!"
"Listen.." his voice is kinda...soft?
"NO! You listen!"
"O-okey..."
"Why are you acting like a brat? I've been doing practically everything for you for the past year! You disappeared for a few days, you didn't say anything, it's cool, I understand, you need space, yadda, yadda.." your voice has started to rise again "But damn it, that's not what we agreed on, I didn't sign up for doing all the work for this part of your life!" you clenched your hands into fists.
"Besides, I also have my own life, right? I'm not entitled to have a free time? Do you know how many times I came home after a mission completely tired? I wasn't at Shoko's more than once, I just went straight to make breakfast, because I knew YOU wouldn't do it!" he see how your expression is changing, now tears appear in your angry eyes.
"I-" he tried again, only to see that his voice stattered.
"Why do you do this to me?! Why can't you treat me like a normal human being?! What did I do to you?!" An avalanche of questions flowed from your mouth, again and again, just as tears covered your cheeks "Am I just a plaything to you?" you started to shake.
"N-no!" he tightened his grip on the bouquet.
"I fell so fucking used!" you started sobbing "You used me and my kindness to make life easier for yourself-" you sniffle "-you never cared about anyone or anything at all!" you looked at his winter boots, although your vision blurred completely.
"Stop! No-I-"
"I can understand, really, you may not feel anything towards these children, but me? I thought you really cared then! I thought you were sincere and open then, whenâŠ. we had⊠this conversation" you were slowly running out of words, the pace of this conversation was slowing down. You almost feel panic in your vains.
"Stop!" he grabbed you by the shoulder with one hand, and put the other to your lips, letting go of the bouquet of flowers, which fell to the floor. You didn't say anything anymore, you couldn't, he's hands were trembling.
"Please.. j-just..listen.." you wanted to turn away, he stopped you. The sight of you crying internally caused him pain, somehow.
"I-.. I am sorry..you're right." his voice was almost silent, despite the fact that he was close to you. Your eyes met his and despite the layer of glass, you knew he was looking at you.
"I-I am an idiot" his breathing was deep, as if saying these words made it difficult for him, or a great struggle, took his hand from your mouth, placed it on your cheek, his head went down "I've had.. I.. well.. the thing is.." he swallowed the massive lump that had gathered in his throat
"N-no.. ple-" you tried to say something.
"This.. this is hard..!! Just.." now his voice is trembling, you don't know what is happening.
"You.. don't know how hard are thing for me now.. I've.." long pause filled with nervous breath "Listen.. I know.. I've been awful to you.. y-you didn't deserve it of course.. I hurt you.. and I-I am sorry, so so sorry.."
"If this is some kind of trick to get me back-"
"No!" he imidietly put his sight to you, he look terriefied, you could see throught the glasses "I mean it.. " you looked away. He signed nervously.
"I left you with all of this.. I let you down.. I'm sorry.." he swiped away any tear that come close to falling down your red cheeks "I don't expect this to fix.. I m-mean my apology.. to fix anything.. but please" his hand was so cold, yet the sensation from this was so calming.
"Let me get this right.. I-I-I will never, ever let you down again.. one chance.. If you want to!" Do you want to? "If no.. I-I promise to back off! I leave you alone! I-I'll never hurt you again! and I'll do anything you say!" his words were speeding up "I will provide..I will make everything right.. I will try to.." his words were rapid, so fast, he almost couldn't keep up with saying every one of it. You started sobbing again. To much emotions cought you off guard.
"n-no don't cry.. please" he wispered, his second hand also landed on your cheek, you closed your eyes unable to even look at him.
He drew himself to you, embracing you whole. You could then feel how much his chest was rising in stress, and how wet his jacket was from the melted snow. His hair was also slightly wet, the glasses at his nose irritated your skin, they were so cold. But this embrace was warm, he held you like something important, precious even. Large hands stroked your back, his breath started to calm down, just like yours. You didn't know how long he held you like this.
"Please.." he started again "Try to forgive me. I.." at this moment you hugged him too, he pressed himself more to you.
"I don't want to lose you." You almost missed it, it was soft and silenty brethless, but it was full of emotions.
You waited, a long moment. A long moment when you thought about everything. You were thinking about him, your life, Tsumiki and Megumi. You didn't want to lose him too. In some way. He was the only thing that held you together. Also you don't know what you should do with your life, and he gave you a purpouse. A purpouse you were desperatly lacking. The kids gave you hope, and even thought you'll need to listen to his annoying voice every day, this is the price you could accept.
"Fine.." you said, gathering your voice to even be able to speak. You are far too soft for him. Oh, for fuck sake. "I.. forgive you.. for now." he froze.
You slowly left his embrace. Then grabbed him tightly by the collar of his jacket, pulling his face toward you "But if you do that again, I'm leaving. And don't even try to look for me. Understood?" you wanted to sound menacing, but your voice was so hoarse and the height difference between you was large enough, that it didn't work out well.
"Of course" smile appeared on his face again "You look cute y'know.." he mumbled, you let him go, growling, you looked down and see something behind his foot.
"What's that?" you asked, he quickly kicked something behind him, you heard something hit the ground on the bottom of the staircase.
"What?" he turned around to look behind and back, playfully "I don't see antything." his smile was so bright.
"Never mind." you signed.
"Let me take you home." this offer suprised you, Satoru could tell by the look "The kids miss you.. and I took your favourite take out." you looked at him suspiciously "I also cleaned the house and took kids to school."
"Now I don't belive you." you crossed your arms, he laught.
"You'll see when we get home." he corrected his glasses still smiling. "I did pretty amazing job, maybe even better than you."
"You're starting again?"
bonus:
You left Utahime's apartment thanking her for all she had done for you, saying that if she needed help, you were always available to her. She hugged you goodbye, measuring Satoru with a menacing gaze, and he waved her off, smiling goofily.
Walking down the staircase, Satoru took your backpack from you and gave you your gloves. The snow was still falling outside and it was quite cold.
When you were at the exit you noticed out of the corner of your eye a colorful bouquet of flowers, it was really pretty and quite small. You are sure you have seen these colors somewhere.
âLook.â you pointed your finger at the bouquet âSomeone left it here, I wonder who it was for?â he scoffed.
âQuite ugly for me.â He didn't even look at it, just opened the door in front of him.
© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission
tl: @kalopsia-flaneur
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#masterlist#megumi fushiguro#tsumiki fushiguro#gojo x you#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojĆ x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#years to come#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#utahime iori#jjk utahime#jjk
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Hear me out now⊠ghost has a voodoo doll of you and he uses it to tease you in meetings and when youâre home and heâs at baseđ»
BEING SIMONS OBEDIENT LILâ DOLL
Ongggg I love you and I love this ask so muchhhhhh ongggggg and I know I say this in every ask but sorry for replying late đ
my finals start on Wednesday and these days Iâm just clearing out my drafts for my recent posts in so sorry đđ
Thatâs like a plot from the webtoon I love (act like you love me, itâs soooooooo good)
goin to a shady âspiritualâ market with you was the last in his wish list buy when you were sooo insistent on buying crystals and quartz he just couldnât say no :((
It was a chance meeting really you were just going home when you saw,
A shop in the corner of the market adorned with beautiful gems and red coloured leaves, it had no banner but the mysterious aura of the shop lured you in
Going inside you guys found an old lady selling dolls and you just couldnât stop to look at one of them.
A doll that looked exactly like you
The skin colour, the hair, shape of your eyes.
it was exactly you.
Well a mini you,
While paying the lady told simon to keep the doll safe
He nodded along not thinking too much of it
That day When you and Simon were sleeping he accidentally slept on the doll which led to you feeling squished a suffocated
Waking Simon up with the sound of you choking
He quickly got up to see whatâs wrong and the minute he got up from the doll you were fine
And You noticed that
You felt crazy ar first for believing that.
But proving it to Simon was hard,
he didnât believe it until you made Him tug the dolls arm through which he noticed the pain caused on the exact spot
god he felt crazy too but he believed you
And the thing is your horny mind came up with a crazier idea-
An idea that stated that he has the consent to control you through the doll for when heâs gone for deployments and when he needs to go to the base
And whatâs more insane is that he agreed.
So this crazy arrangement really ended up being a success
Whenever si went out he would take the doll with him, he would purposely use the doll to his advantage to tease you just slightly
The slight brush on your tits during your lecture?
Thatâs Simon
The sudden touches on your sensitive spots?
Thatâs Simon too
God he loved teasing you.
Especiallyyyy when youâre at home,
Telling you to wait and be a good girl till he comes back.
On one particular day,
He had been at the base all day to train the new recruits and you were at home and bored :(
Out of nowhere you felt a sudden caress and pinch on your nipples with your clit being rubbed in circles simultaneously.
It felt sooo good,
until it stopped.
You felt so frustrated.
You had to cum :((
So how could you not touch yourself :(
But before you could start you felt a restrain on your hands.
You couldnât reach your hands further than your waist now
Just then you a got a message from Simon
An image of you, well mini you itâs hands tied around itâs waist
And a small text saying, âtold you to wait princess, be a good girl fâ meâ
That sly bastard
Really, visiting that store was a blessing curse in disguise.
But maybe giving Simon indirect control to your body wasnât half as bad especially for those days when he felt generous :)
#ghost mw2#simon riley#simon fluff#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley call of duty#simon smut#cod simon#smut#ghost simon riley#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley#call of duty simon#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#simon ghost x reader#cod simon riley#ghost smut#cod simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#domestic cod#cod x you#cod x reader
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danmei list that no one asked for (long post incoming)
ok so I've accumulated a pretty decent list of danmei that aren't as well known and I want to talk about them!! so here we go! these aren't in any particular order btw
Nan Chan
an aloof, listless immortal and a very hungry caterpillar fish demon go on an adventure to retrieve a runaway bell đ. and also they both have amnesia. CUE ANGSTY BACKSTORY REVEAL!!!! đȘđȘđȘ
I'm sure it's to no ones surprise that this is first because I'm a SLUT for nan chan. if nan chan has one fan it is ME and if there r no fans I am DEAD!! I love this novel so much it has the perfect combination of painful angst and sweet sweet lovin' !! the main couple's relationship makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside đ„șđđ (probably because I am a touch love language girly and these bitches be touching!!!) and I LOVE the characters sm. especially my little meow meow Jing Lin and his adorable little stone figure. I live for the interactions between Cang Ji and the stone figure! it may be a little difficult to read the first time around since the plot gets a little convoluted but it all makes sense in the end! 10/10 really recommend!!
How to Survive as a Villain
transmigration plot! rich ceo gets transported to a novel as the villain emperor and gets buddy buddy with the novel's MC so he doesn't get killed. ends up buddying too close to the sun and accidentally becomes the leading lady. drama ensues!
this is another favorite of mine!! this one is another good mix of angst and romance and the MC is so funny and likeable. there are also two cute side couples which is always fun! (one of them is f/f so it gets extra brownie points with međ€) its also not too complicated which makes it great for casual reading ^^ p.s. this one has an official eng tl now! its being published thru rosmei (like nanchan) so it has to be ordered thru a 3rd party distributor but I think its worth reading đ
Living to Suffer/ Till Death Do Us Part
living to suffer: ancient wuxia style prequel where the characters meet as a humble doctor and member of a demonic sect and their fate intertwines. this one has a BE
till death do us part: early to mid 1900s setting sequel. the reincarnated characters meet again as a elementary school teacher and rich playboy and face the struggles of having a relationship. this one has a bittersweet ending
THIS...... OK THESE NOVELS... let me tell you something. this made me SOB. oh my god especially the ending of TDDUP. I saw a review saying "I honestly could believe there lived a Shen Liangsheng and a Ch'in Ching, and that they fell in love..." and hard agree because something about this story felt so real?? which made it all the more intriguing and heartbreaking!! its set around the time of the japanese invasion of china and the cultural revolution so it does talk a lot about politics but it wasn't a difficult read imo. BUT BE WARNED! there is a LOT of smut. (not rly vanilla either..) and the relationship does get pretty toxic at times đŹ but it gets better by the end of the book and the toxicity actually does add to the story and character development. if u give it a try please read the prequel (living to suffer) first!
After Being Forced to Marry the Evil Star General
a deputy prime minister MC who's powerful, high-maintenance, and hated by the public is arranged to marry a laid-back general who is much loved and praised (but also rumored to be cursed!). this is an arranged marriage + enemies to lovers novel
I'm actually in the middle of rereading this one rn đ. I think this one is also good for casual reading since it isn't very complicated. in the beginning the interactions between the main couple r rly funny because they just clash all day long lol. its also got a little angst sprinkled in đđ I did see some reviews saying that the MC is not likeable since he does some kinda bad things and he's stuck up but I still liked him idk đ I feel like his flaws made him more interesting
Married Thrice to Salted Fish
a doctor MC who only wishes to study medicine (and poison oop) gets arranged to marry a guy whos dying. turns out that guy has been taken over by a transmigrator! transmigrator ML then proceeds to die and come back as someone else.. more than once đ
if you love a couple that schemes together then this is the novel for you! the MC in this book kinda reminds me of the MC from the book I mentioned right above. (these titles too long man đ
) I found the repeated "reincarnation" plot to be pretty interesting. the interactions between the couple were pretty amusing as well and since the ML is from modern times he randomly uses modern slang. MC even picks some lingo up from him loll
Xiao Jiu
about a 9th prince MC whos trying to win the heart of the emperor's cold and aloof bodyguard! call him the prince of rizz because it works eventually đ this is an age gap romance with a smidge of angst and political drama
this a short and sweet story! the ML is described as cold a lot but he actually becomes rly sweet and warm later on so he isn't one of those stone faced characters. I don't have much else to say about this besides "its cute, I like it" đ
Guanshan Muyu
wife-chasing crematorium story! it's about a outlaw MC who's kidnapped by the very guy who betrayed him. ML wants to win MC's heart back but issues from the past cause a bunch of misunderstandings :( but it is a happy ending!!
man.... I haven't read a wife-chasing crematorium story before this and I was not prepared for the amount of ANGST. basically everyone is miserable for the entire damn time! đđđ but that's not to say it wasn't a good story!! all the suffering made the ending feel even sweeter đ„° if you cry easily maybe keep a pack of tissues on hand when you read this đ
I wrote this in my notes app while reading and I feel like it summarizes the ML pretty well bahaha đ
"qi yan: my girl is mad at me. I hope I die"
Itâs Not Easy Being a Master
transmigrator becomes the villainous shizun in a novel he read and attempts to avoid a bad ending but *gasp* the novels MC (ML) has been reborn with all the past memories!! MC tries to get close to ML while ML is like wtf is going on ! seems like a typical "transmigrated as a villain" type plot until suddenly it's not... đđ
this one was rly fun! there's a big plot twist that I found rly interesting and unique! very fresh!! fresh produce!! đ„đ«đ„đ
I also like the MC a lot he had a rly silly personality hehe. I think this novel is good for people who like solving mysteries alongside the characters since a lot of hints are dropped throughout
Golden Stage/ Terrace
arranged marriage between a court dog and a general who's become phsyically disabled. everyone knows that the two HATE each other... but do they really? đ no, it's not an enemies to lovers, but the other characters seem to think so! đ€
great novel!! very good!! I love the dynamic between the main couple! they love to banter so their interactions are entertaining. there's a bit of political plot but it's nothing too complicated and the angst is minimal. I also like that one of the main characters is a ambulatory wheelchair user. this one also has a official eng tl now but I'm not sure from which publishing house
Sharing Rain and Dew
MC whos staying in the palace dies a painful death but then gets reborn several months in the past. he spends his time stressing about his impending death but for some reason the Emperor has suddenly become super clingy and doting
this one is very very short, only 5 chapters + 3 extras, but it's quite funny and cute. despite being so short the story is actually pretty interesting? good for a quick, casual read
list over!! I have a few more but this is already too long of a post đ I hope someone can find this helpful for some reading recs!
#danmei#reading recommendations#danmei recs#i didn't proofread this so if you see errors LOOK AWAYY#nan chan#how to survive as a villain#golden stage#golden terrace#living to suffer#til death do us part#guanshan muyu#after being forced to marry the evil star general#married thrice to salted fish#xiao jiu#its not easy being a master#sharing rain and dew
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The Wedding
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
You and Logan get MARRIED! I know y'all been waiting for this one.
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
also thank you to @coocoocachewgotscrewed for the idea of logan keeping the pen reader gave him and using it to write his vows.
"It'll be a small wedding," Logan grumbled, scratching the back of his neck with that familiar, slightly awkward air he got whenever something made him uncomfortable. He stood in the middle of the living room, looking like a bear that had wandered into a tea party, completely out of place.
You raised an eyebrow, glancing up from the pile of bridal magazines scattered across the coffee table. "Small? Logan, there's at least a hundred people living at the mansion alone," you said, your voice somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Itâs not exactly going to be 'small' with that kind of guest list."
Across from you, Jean nodded, sitting cross-legged on the couch with a wedding planning book perched in her lap. "My wedding had three hundred guests, remember Logan?" she chimed in helpfully, flipping through a page on flower arrangements.
"Our wedding," Scott corrected from the armchair beside her, not even looking up from the paper he was reading.
Logan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Exactly why we should skip all this crap and just get hitched already," he muttered, his voice low and gruff.
You shot him a playful look, shaking your head. "What happened to 'you can do whatever you want, darlin'?" you asked, mimicking his gravelly voice with a teasing smile.
Loganâs mouth twitched, almost into a smile, but then his eyes flicked back to the growing mountain of wedding plans, suggestions from friends, and magazines full of over-the-top ideas. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he stood just a little too rigid like he was bracing for an attack.
Truth be told, you were feeling the weight of it too.
At first, you had been excitedâthree months of engagement bliss, giddy over every little detail. The idea of a big, beautiful wedding had seemed like a dream. But now? Now it felt overwhelming. Everyone had an opinion, from the color scheme to the type of cake to the seating arrangements. You loved your friends, but the constant suggestions had turned into something else, something bigger than you and Logan. It had started to feel like the wedding wasnât really yours anymore.
Jean leaned in, holding up a sample invitation. "Oh, and I was thinking," she began, clearly not picking up on Loganâs discomfort. "You could have this gorgeous ice-blue theme with silver accentsâit would match the winter season perfectly."
Logan shot you a lookâone of those looks that said Iâm two seconds away from walking out of here. You couldnât blame him. The more Jean talked, the more you realized something had shifted inside you. Somewhere along the way, youâd gotten caught up in making the perfect day, and forgotten what this wedding was really about: you and Logan.
Not the flowers. Not the guest list. You two.
Logan cleared his throat, trying once more to gently steer the conversation. "Listen, all this sounds real nice," he said, his voice tight with barely restrained frustration, "but what if we just kept it simple? Yâknow, courthouse, couple of rings, call it a day."
Jean blinked, clearly baffled. "A courthouse? Logan, this is your wedding! Itâs supposed to be a special day, something beautiful."
You opened your mouth to agree with Jean, to defend the idea of having a "proper" wedding. But then, you looked at Logan again. His eyesâthose deep, hazel eyesâwere watching you closely like he was waiting for you to decide. Not just about the wedding, but about what you wanted, deep down.
Suddenly, it clicked. You realized that Logan was right. You didnât need a grand affair. You didnât need three hundred guests or ice-blue color scheme or a designer dress. You didnât need all the noise and spectacle. What you neededâwhat you wanted âwas something that felt like the two of you. Something real. Something simple.
You smiled softly, the decision made. "You know what?" you said, standing up from the couch and tossing the magazines aside. "I think Loganâs right."
Jeanâs eyes widened. "Wait, what?"
Scott finally looked up from his paper, equally surprised.
Logan raised an eyebrow, his usual gruff skepticism tinged with curiosity. "Really?"
You nodded, crossing the room to stand in front of him, resting your hand on his arm. "Yeah," you said, your voice quieter now, more certain. "I donât need the big wedding. I donât need all the fuss. All I need is you. " You smiled up at him, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders as the words came out. "Letâs just get married. Just us."
For the first time in days, you saw Loganâs shoulders relax. He let out a low breath, his lips twitching into that half-smile that always made your heart skip a beat. "You sure?"
"Absolutely," you said, your hand slipping down to intertwine with his. "Letâs get hitched."
A week later, you found yourself standing outside the courthouse, the sun just beginning to set in the late afternoon sky, casting a warm glow over everything. It was quiet, just the way you wanted it. No crowd, no elaborate decorations, and no endless chatter. Just you and Logan, and the soft hum of the world around you.
You looked down at the simple dress youâd chosenânothing fancy, just something that made you feel good, made you feel like you. Logan, dressed in his usual button-up, looked handsome in that effortlessly rugged way only he could pull off. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the top, a teasing glimpse of his chest visible, and his hair styled in those little tufts as always, the white streaks more visible.Â
"Ready?" you asked, your heart fluttering in anticipation.
Loganâs eyes met yours, steady and calm. "More than ready."
As you both stepped inside, the courthouse was quiet. There was no fanfare, no grand entranceâjust the two of you, walking hand in hand, a quiet sense of peace settling over the moment.
The ceremony itself was simple, just like youâd wanted until Logan surprised you. He cleared his throat, looking a little awkward as he reached into his jacket pocket.
"I, uh... Iâve got somethinâ for you," he muttered, his voice rough but filled with something soft underneath. From his pocket, he pulled out a pen. Not just any pen.
Your breath caught in your throat. It was your penâthe one youâd given him two years ago when he had started his first-day teaching history at Xavierâs. A "good luck" charm, you had called it, but it had become something meaningful to Logan.
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as Logan handed it to you with a small smile. From the same pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper, slightly crumpled, like it had been carried around for a while.
"I wrote somethin'," he said, his voice low as he unfolded the paper, his eyes flicking nervously to yours. "Figured you deserved more than just... yâknow, me winginâ it."
He cleared his throat, glancing down at the paper. Then, with that same rough tenderness that was so purely Logan, he began to read.
"I ainât great with words, darlin'," he started, his voice softening. "But I figure you already know that. So, Iâll keep it simple. Youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to me. I ainât perfect... never will be. I swear to you, Iâll spend the rest of my life doinâ whatever it takes to make you happy, keepinâ you safe, and showinâ you that youâre loved. 'Cause you are, more than I ever thought Iâd love someone."
By the time he finished, your vision was blurred with unshed tears. You didnât need any more words. You didnât need anything grand or fancy. In that quiet courthouse, with Logan standing before you, holding the pen you had given him long ago, you had everything you could ever want.
"Logan," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, "I love you. I never thought I could be this happy, but every day with you... you show me something new. You make everything better."
He smiled then, a real, full smile that softened the lines of his face and reached his eyesâa rare sight, but one you cherished every time. He stepped closer, his hand warm and rough as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch grounding you in the moment.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that sent warmth spreading through you, just like the way his presence always did.
You held each other's gaze as the quiet world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you standing there. Together, you exchanged ringsâsimple gold bands that glinted in the soft light, but they felt like so much more.
Logan leaned in, his lips brushed yours, sealing the vows with a soft kiss. It was as steady and certain as the love you had found with him. It was simply perfect.
#fluff#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x you#x men wolverine#x men logan#logan x reader#james logan howlett#marvel#mcu#days of future past#professor logan#professor reader#wedding#fluff and humor#fluff and romance#hugh jackman
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Twice Buried [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left (@i06gyu) Center (@@mickisnotclever) Right (@sleepinginthelibrary)
Prompt: Aaron finds out about the depth of pain the reader went through in her childhood and he canât let the wrongs done to her go without risking their relationship, so he takes matters into his own hands.Â
Pairing: Aaron x BAU!Reader, fem!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronounsÂ
Category: Angst/ComfortÂ
Word Count: 14.9K
Content Warnings: Mention of childhood sexual abuse [reader] hoarding, gross bugs, phobias [reader] mention of food and drink, character in distress [reader] mention of death of a family member [reader].Â
A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! It has been a good while since Iâve posted a fic. If you want that whole, what happened in Leviâs life recently story, feel free to check out my other posts. I canât promise fics will be written and posted as often as they used to be, but I am still writing, and I still love Aaron. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - â€ïž
List with all storiesÂ
y/n = your nameÂ
y/n had been reserved since joining the BAU. Everyone noticed it. Worse than Emily, who had made a special kind of splash by crash landing âby accidentâ on the team. But y/n had been far from an accident. Sheâd been on an arranged agent swap with the General Directorate for Internal Security or the GDIS for short on their anti-terrorism team. After the âJe Suis Charlieâ incident in 2015, the U.S. was afraid of similar incidents happening in the States and had sent a few agents abroad to get a better grasp of the situation and then report back to the FBI and the Pentagon. y/n had been one of those agents. When she spotted a similar trend online that indicated that another attack was imminent she acted in time. The information had been found in a private Discord Server which Penelope had helped hack. The ring had been larger than any of the team could imagine, and having y/n on the team had been a help. It wasnât a long time later before Dave sent y/n an invitation to join the team for a prolonged period of time. y/n had agreed. Getting an invitation to be on the BAU was like winning the lottery, and she hadnât won anything in her life before, so she wasnât going to give up this one chance to make something of herself.Â
The change from y/nâs original team to the BAU had been a culture shock, even though sheâd been on the team for a short time before. Her somber and almost aloof attitude while in the office had rubbed some of the team the wrong way. Aaron had to remind them that they all had a period of adjustment, except for Spencer, who was basically raised in the FBI. All of the original members of the team had laughed at that and agreed with Hotch. However, time passed and yes, y/n had gotten better. She was less aloof, and the team realized they had mistaken that first emotion for a closed-offness that y/n kept herself in.Â
She was marvelous at redirecting conversations back to another member of the team, or vaguely answering without really giving any solid details. If their group had normal people, they wouldnât have even noticed, and it was clear to all of them that y/nâs former team had been the same way too. However, the BAU relied very much on knowing each other, even if it wasnât all the gory details, Hotch for one had never opened up about his younger years, but hints were appreciated, so they could keep each other safe.Â
For example, if the team hadnât known how bad Spencerâs drug problem had been, they wouldnât have been able to protect him from the legal ramifications of his actions. They had protected him from that. But over time, y/n had stayed wary and guarded, though she had started attending events with the team outside of work which was an improvement. Finally, JJ stepped in and told y/n, respectfully, if she could just try and talk more to the team. They wanted to know her and cared about what she thought. This had hurt y/n at first. She felt betrayed and that sheâd let her new team down. y/n knew JJ was saying this in good faith and not to demean her in any way. Sheâd experienced that before and this wasnât that. So, slowly, y/n had started talking more and giving her thoughts on things. She still stayed mostly quiet about herself. Why would remain a mystery to the team for a long, long, time?Â
Once when the team was out for a post-case, late-night meal, they were talking about and laughing, and Aaron was sitting across from y/n. He had paid a lot of attention to y/n. In some small ways, she reminded him of Elle, and he felt like he had failed Elle in some fundamental way when she had âleftâ the team. No matter how much better y/n had become at sharing her emotions and opening up, there were still obvious tells that Hotch could perceive around a topic that made y/n wary. Things like family, or childhood, or the past. When these conversations started, as one had that evening, he watched as y/nâs face fell flat for just a micro-second. When her normally pretty expression changed to this, Aaron imagined y/n as a marble statue whose bright paint had chipped away decades ago. Someone stuck in a moment of anguish forever. y/n always snapped out of it, and the other members of the team didnât seem to notice it, but Aaron did. He wondered what was behind those moments of affectless expression. It bothered him, but he didnât pry. He hoped, that when the time was right, y/n would find the courage to open up herself. But he wasnât going to pressure her into a confession. That was against his moral compass. He knew from personal experience that it was harder to speak about difficult things when pressure was added.Â
The team kept trekking on as the summer moved into the fall and a few more facets about y/n were discovered. The team was on a case in the Midwest. A small town off the beaten track where an unsub had been finding more and more gruesome ways to kill people. It was halfway through the case and the team was going back to the hotel to catch some sleep before the start of another day. 3:00 a.m. at a small motel was oddly liminal, and Hotch felt a sense of unease as they all trudged to their rooms. y/n was next to him on the left and he walked with her up the stairs on the outside of the building toward their rooms. y/n covered her mouth as she yawned. Sheâd told Hotch it was okay, that she could walk by herself, but he insisted he go with her. He didnât like the idea of y/n walking around outside at this time of night, even if it would be under a five-minute walk.Â
y/n could feel her legs lagging up the stairs as she was so tired. Sheâd done a lot of physical work that day and her brain and body were protesting. As y/n lowered her hand from her mouth and said, âSorry. Hotch. Iâm so ready for bed.â What she was trying to say was that she was moving slowly, slowing him, and his long legs down from getting some sleep. Even though y/n wasnât very clear with her words, Aaron understood what she meant and was about to say that it was totally fine, but as they reached the landing, an eerily human-child-sounding scream came from the dimly lit parking lot.Â
This shocked y/n and Aaron into awareness, and Hotch, subconsciously pulled y/n quickly behind his body. He could feel how tense y/n was. How on edge as her hand brushed his side to look around his body. He held his hand out to the side to keep her back in case it was a dangerous situation. Thankfully, a long second later, there was a thump and another sound as a skinny coyote scampered away from the dumpster in the corner of the lot. Both Aaron and y/n deflated and Hotch turned to look at y/n, and they both chuckled at how frightened they had been at the presence of an animal. They finished getting to their rooms and y/n raised a hand saying, âNight Hotch. See ya in the morning.â Aaron shot her a hint of a smile and said, âSleep well, y/n.âÂ
Aaron moved into his room and turned on the lamps. The walls were paper thin in the motel, and he heard as y/n moved around in her room just a wall away from his. Apart from that it was relatively quiet for a bit as Hotch got out of his black slacks and into the grey sweatpants he normally slept in during cases. They were soft and worn in a way he liked. He had just slipped on his classic white short-sleeved shirt from his suitcase and was just moving toward the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth when there was a yelp from y/nâs room, then a crash and the hurried steps of y/n running toward her door. He heard the rusty hinges scream as y/n moved outside and he wasnât far after her. Outside he caught y/n putting her hand on her chest, breathing heavily and looking more than a little distraught. Before he could ask if everything was alright, Morgan came dashing up next to y/n and placed a hand on her back asking in his husky voice, âEverything alright, y/n? Whatâs going on?â Morgan was panting too as he had run up the stairs when heâd seen y/n come out of her room the way she had.Â
y/n cleared her throat and forced herself to visibly relax and take a breath before saying, âItâs nothing really, just a bad bug. Sorry, I might have overreacted.â Hearing this Derek let out a large laugh and said, âWow, you really had me scared there for a second. Who knew that you could be scared by a bug? Youâre always so stoic, y/n.â Hotch watched y/n laugh, but he could tell it was fake. Morgan continued, âWhat was it y/n? A spider or a scorpion? Want me to get it for you?â y/n smiled at the ground and said, âNah, itâs fine. Thanks for the offer, Morgan. I was just surprised when I opened the bathroom door is all.â Derek shook his head and said, âAlright, well if you find any more nasty surprises in your room you just give me a call and Iâll sort it out for you.â y/n nodded and said, âWill do, Derek. Youâre the best.â Morgan nodded and gave y/n a pat on the back and then moved past Hotch to get to his own room.Â
Aaron caught that y/n hadnât elaborated on what the bug species was, and he noticed that she seemed to greatly relax once Morgan had made a joke of the whole situation which was clearly adversely affecting her. Once Derek was in his room, Hotch checked in saying, âWhat was it, y/l/n?â y/nâs head snapped up as if sheâd forgotten he was there. y/n dropped her eyes to the ground again and said, âI donât want to say it Hotch.â Aaron nodded and gently replied, âDoes it start with an âr?ââ y/n cringed but nodded yes. Aaron let out a breath and said, âYou want me to get it for you?â After a moment, y/n looked up at Hotch, and he could see that she was embarrassed for being in this situation in the first place. Hotch moved a hand to y/nâs elbow and said, ây/n, I donât mind. I know theyâre gross.â Finally y/n looked at him and said, âOkay. Thanks, Aaron.â Hotch nodded and stepped inside. He kept his eyes mostly trained on the open bathroom door which light was spilling out of. He couldnât help himself from seeing some of y/nâs more private clothing items on the bed before he moved his eyes safely to the stained carpet.Â
In the bathroom, the roach was comfortably hanging out on the wall near the sink. It was like the bug sensed Aaronâs presence and quickly and unnervingly moved off the wall and toward the shower. Hotch grabbed a handful of toilet paper to get the bug. He pulled back the clear plastic shower curtain and the roach moved again to the nearest dark corner. Aaron didnât like these bugs either. It was something about the way they moved that freaked him out slightly, but he was older, and a man, and he didnât mind doing this for y/n if it made her feel better. With a decisive move from his hand, Aaron caught the bug in the white paper and he didnât pay attention as the bugâs body made a crunching sound as he closed his hand around the paper. He quickly threw the chitinous corpse into the toilet and flushed it away before closing the lid and stepping back through the room. He scanned the room to make sure there werenât any more surprise bugs and he noticed the shattered lamp which y/n must have tipped over when she ran from the room. He strode across to the side of the bed, picked up the small trashcan, and moved back to the shattered pieces of the lamp.
Aaron didnât notice as y/n, who had been standing at the threshold of the room dropped her hands from covering her mouth, as she chewed on her nails, a nervous tick of hers, and back to her sides. She walked back into the room and next to Hotch and said, âHotch, you donât need to do that. I can sort it out. Iâm sorry.â Aaron finished picking up the largest parts of the lamp, careful not to cut his hands on any of the glass. Only after he had finished this did he stand and say, âItâs not a bother, y/n. Iâm happy to help. You should call the front office and have someone come and get the rest of the glass this morning, and if you use the restroom in the middle of the night, at least whatâs left of it, make sure to wear shoes.â y/n nodded timidly, and exhausted and tried not to think about Hotch thinking about her moving around her room in the middle of the night. âThanks again,â she said as Aaron moved to the door and shut it for the last time that night.Â
Once Hotch was out of the room, y/n lay back on the bed so tired that she thought she might fall asleep right then and there. She thanked her guardian angel that she hadnât seen the bad bug before sheâd taken off her pants, because she would have run outside her room with or without pants on, and the idea of Derek, and more significantly, Aaron, seeing her in her underwear, sheâd never live it down. After a moment, y/n turned her head to the door which sheâd need to lock, and then toward the bathroom, which she still needed to use before she could fully relax. But given the bug and its essence that was left of it, no matter how small, y/n didnât want to go back to the bathroom. She didnât want to leave the bed. If she was younger, sheâd have tucked her legs into her chest and stayed there for the rest of the night with all the light burning until the dawn sun illuminated her room in shades of pink and orange. But she wasnât that little girl anymore, and she did get up and lock the door. She did put on shoes, as Aaron had suggested which felt good. It was nice and meant no glass pierced the soles of her feet and it meant she was off the ground. y/n knew this was silly, a coping technique sheâd built for herself over the years, but it did give her the strength to quickly wash her face, brush her teeth, and put patches on her acne. By the time this was done, y/n moved back to her bed, turned off the lights, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.Â
In his room, Aaron moved back to the bathroom and took a shower before getting under the covers. He looked at the ceiling and realized that heâd learned more about y/n in his interaction with her that evening than he had in their whole time as Unit Cheif and supervisor. He pondered if he was wrong for wanting to know more about y/n. Why she was so closed off? What it was that she had to hide. He couldnât help himself for thinking it was funny that she didnât like bugs, but he couldnât blame her for it either. It was never fun to have unwanted company, human or otherwise. He fell into the oblivion of sleep with a look of shame and perhaps gratitude as y/n had let him go into her room and take care of her unwanted guest.Â
Aaron didnât make many more discoveries about y/n until a month later when it was close to 5:00 p.m. and he was sitting in his office. There was a soft knock on his door and he looked up to see y/n peaking into his office. He sat up a bit straighter and said, âCome in, y/n. Do you have a question about something?â y/n shuffled into the room and kept looking at the floor before she finally raised her eyes and met his. He could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek before she said, âI have a favor to ask you if youâre willing. If itâs too much then no worries at all, you just seemed like the right person for this problem Iâm having.â Hotchâs eyes widened in surprise. What could y/n possibly need from him that someone else couldnât offer? He hoped his intrigue didnât play out on his face as he motioned for the chair across from his desk and said, âWell, let me know what weâre dealing with and then I can let you know. Is it a work thing? Please tell me itâs not a Drake-type of situation again, is it?â He was concerned now and looked at y/nâs face closely for signs of distress.Â
Drake had been an agent, who was quickly reassigned to a small HQ in Seattle who had made some untoward comments toward other female agents, including y/n. It had been y/n who had gone to JJ, and JJ who had gone to him to reveal the whole situation. When Aaron heard this he got so angry that he stood, placed his hands on his desk to steady himself before he sat back down, and asked JJ to tell him everything she knew as he grew more and more disgusted by some of the male agents in the building. Heâd taken the situation to HR and made sure that y/n nor any of the other female agents were named in the official complaint before going to Strauss and basically demanding a transfer for Drake or outright termination.Â
Aaron was thankful when y/n nodded her head no and said, âNo, Sir. Nothing like that,â as she sat across from him. He pushed aside his laptop so that there wasnât anything blocking their view and he waited for y/n to say what had brought her in. After a moment of silence y/n let out a breath and said, âItâs really silly, actuallyâŠâ Hotch stopped her from continuing by leveling a friendly glare at y/n which made her stop and try again. y/n swallowed and said, âWell, last month there was a leak in my apartment that never got fully fixed. It was livable, but I think thereâs mold in my unit now which I think has made me sick again and off again for the last two weeks. I need to get it tested, but I was wondering if there was something in my lease that I might use against my apartment complex to break my lease?â y/n looked over at Hotch. His large brown eyes only seemed more intense in the low light of his lamps. She knew he was listening to her, wanting all of the pieces of the puzzle she was trying to tell him so he could help her. That was one thing y/n loved about Aaron. He never ignored anyone on the team or anyone in need of help, and as much as she didnât want to admit it, she needed some help. y/n continued by saying, âAnd, well, Iâve tried reading my lease a few times but it doesnât make any sense to me. There is a clause about mold, but I canât figure out the legal jargon. I was wondering if you could read it over for me if itâs not too big a bother.â
Hotch could see y/n rubbing her hands together softly on her legs, a self-soothing gesture she was prone to when y/n was stressed. He let out a little breath and said, âOf course I can, y/n. Iâd be happy to help you.â He paused before adding, âI can also probably fix your leak issue while we work out the logistics of the lease. If there is mold, and you did get sick from it, there might be grounds for a civil suit, if you wanted to take legal action that is.â y/nâs face settled into one that was relaxed, and replied, âIâm not sure if I have the energy for that. I donât even know if I have the energy to move. Iâd just like to have the option. To know that I have an option.â Hotch nodded in understanding but didnât say that. Instead, he stated, âWell, how about we set up a date for me to look over the lease and or your apartment if you want? Iâm open this weekend if that works for you?â Hotch felt strange almost inviting himself into her home. He could easily read y/nâs lease in the office, but something told him not to.Â
Although Hotch was far from a Marxist he didnât believe in bringing personal work into the office. He would happily take office work home, but not visa versa. Also, by throwing out an open date for him, which he didnât often have, he hoped y/n would realize that he did want to help her, not only with her legal issues but with her apartment which was apparently falling apart and making her ill. The idea of that bothered him more than it should have. Aaron was forced from his own head when y/n said, âYeah. That works for me. Um, what time would you like to come over?â Surprised that y/n would let him of all people, into her space he replied, âHow about 9:30? Is that too early for you?â Again Aaron was faced with the fact that he hardly knew anything about y/n. Did she wake up late on the weekends like Reid? Did she work out like he and Morgan did? Did she go out with friends to brunch like Emily? Did she have a boyfriend or girlfriend to wake up to like JJ did every morning? Not all of this information about his teammates had just been told to him, but he knew it nonetheless, and being so bereft of details about y/nâs life made him feel like he knew nothing about her, even if that wasnât true.
Aaronâs eyes moved up as y/n said, âHotch, Hotch. 9:30 is great for me. Is it okay with you?â Hotch felt awkward having been caught unaware twice by y/n in the course of under an hour. Aaron replied, âYes. Sorry, Iâm distracted today, y/n. Can you text me your address and Iâll put it in my calendar?â y/n smiled and replied, âSure thing, Hotch. Thank you for the help.â Aaron nodded and said, âLet me know if you need a place to crash before Saturday. I bet the Bureau can get you a hotel room or something. I donât think staying in a place that might be making you sick is in the best interest of the department, or my agent.â y/n tried to hide her smile at Aaronâs concern for her. He was trying to mask it too, but not very well. She told him sheâd let him know and left his office feeling better than she had in some time.Â
That Saturday was the first time that Aaron saw y/nâs apartment. As y/n walked him toward the AC unit that had been leaking, he tried to look around without it looking too obvious. His eyes scanned the kitchen and living room and then he moved into y/nâs small bedroom. They were chatting about their days so far, and as Aaron sat down on the floor, y/n handed him Philipâs head screwdriver to remove the grate from the crawl space below her AC. y/n asked, âSo you really run five miles every Saturday morning? How do you deal with the heat? Iâm tempted to just stay in all the time during summer.â Aaron let out a chuckle and said, âI think you build up the tolerance. And I wear a lot of sunscreen. They say fresh air is good for you, especially if youâre living in an apartment with mold.â Hotch had meant the statement as a joke, but when y/n didnât laugh, he bit his tongue and hoped he hadnât offended her. He didnât mean to, but by the time he was formulating a response, he noticed the drip and the simple fix to the issue. An issue that the repairmen who had been there a few times already should have easily fixed weeks ago. He grunted slightly as he inched his way forward on his elbows with a wrench in one hand and a flashlight in the other.Â
This time in the small space did give him the opportunity to think about y/nâs place a bit more. It was old but decently maintained, and it was clean. When heâd done the walk to get to this part of the house, he hadnât thought much about it. But now as he saw normal signs of an older building, cobwebs, stains, and dust, he realized heâd seen very little of that in y/nâs space. It was like the apartment was staged, waiting for the photographers to come from Architectural Digest to get their pictures and get her opinion on the Pantene color of the year. y/n didnât have a lot of things. Her furnishings were sparse but looked comfortable enough. But inside, Aaron had the feeling that maybe somewhere, storage, the attic - there wasnât one - a closet, there were boxes of things that gave meaning to y/nâs life that sheâd neglected to put out or up. Hotch sighed as he tightened the bolt that was allowing water to drip down the side of y/nâs pipes. There were multiple spots like this. It would take a while and some maneuvering on his part, but Hotch didnât mind. This reminded him of his first apartment in college, but that was much more of a mess. Living with three other guys, it was bound to happen, even if he kept his space relatively clean.Â
It took Hotch a few minutes to finish up the work on the leaks before he wriggled back into the bedroom. y/n extended a hand to him, and he took it as he stood with a small grunt. He was happy he hadnât changed out of his workout clothes because being in such a confined space had made him even more sweaty. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and said, âWell, I think I have it all fixed down there, except for a small puddle from the leak. I can clean that up for you if you like.â y/n nodded her head no and said, âItâs fine, Hotch. Youâve done so much already, I can clean it up in a moment. Iâm a bit, picky, with my cleaning habits.â Aaron nodded and said, âI get you. Reid is the same way.â y/n gave an understanding nod, and Hotch looked over y/nâs shoulder to the pictures neatly framed on y/nâs far wall. There were a few with y/n and some friends, maybe some from college and a few from her years in Paris. The photos had good composition even if they were only shot on an iPhone. Even though he had said it, Aaron knew Spencer wasnât the same as y/n. They both cared for cleanliness, that was obvious, but there was something different about y/n that he couldnât pin down. Some facts that he felt he was missing.Â
Aaron wiped his dusty hands on his shorts and y/n said, âDo you want to wash your hands? Who knows what kind of gross stuff is under there.â She eyes the open grate and Hotch replied, âYes, please. Itâs not actually that bad down there, just dust mainly.â He chose not to talk about the spider webs, given y/nâs aversion to bugs. Heâd swept away the webs anyway so she wouldnât have to see them. y/n pointed Hotch to the door of the bathroom and he stepped inside closing the door He took a minute to look at his reflection. He didnât look as sweaty as he felt, which he was grateful for. âWhy does it matter?â Aaron asked himself as he rinsed off his hands and then added a generous amount of hand soap into his palms. As he lathered the soap and then rinsed it off Hotch tried to quell the thoughts which had subconsciously been growing since heâd seen y/n looking frightened at the motel. If he tried hard enough, he could play them off in his head as protective, a fatherly gesture, but in his spirit, he knew this wasnât true. Hotch dried his hand and pushed his hair around a bit until he liked how it sat. His ego nudged him whispering, âVanity, Hotchner.â He snorted slightly and left the bathroom before he could get more in his head about his appearance. That wasnât the point of him being here in the first place.Â
By the time Aaron stepped back into y/nâs room, she had added three of the four screws back on the grate and into the wall covering the gaping hole that had been there. y/n looked up at him and smiled as she said, âWell now that youâve helped me fix the leak I donât think I have a reason to sue the landlord.â Hotch pressed his lips together before replying, âWell that might be true, but I think if your apartment is using a subcontractor for maintenance you could sue them for not knowing how to do their jobs.â y/n chuckled but as a big fan of not having any extra confrontation in her life, she didnât think sheâd be taking Hotch up on that offer. Instead, she asked, âCould I pay you back with a coffee, Hotch? Thereâs a good spot two blocks over. I was going to go there anyway to hang out for a bit.â Before the logical or even aware part of Aaronâs mind could respond he said, âYou donât mind going out with me looking like this?â His self-consciousness side blurted out what he was trying to avoid thinking in the bathroom. For a second Aaron felt like chucking himself out y/nâs bedroom window as he internally cringed so hard that his stomach hurt.Â
y/n took a moment to process what Aaron had said and she stopped herself from scratching the back of her head in confusion. ââYou donât mind going out with me looking like this?ââ What the hell did that even mean? Did Hotch know how he looked? How her seeing him in something that wasnât a suit had almost taken her breath away and sped up her heart rate three times past normal? She had thought as he worked on her AC, his body half buried in the wall, âHe could send out a warning if heâs not going to show up in a suit. Good god, give a girl one chance not to be fucking lusting over her boss.â She had been embarrassed by the thought, as Hotch clearly was embarrassed now. To not make the situation any more strange than it was and tried humor saying, âYou mean like a guy wearing shorts and a Nike shirt?â y/n never knew if jokes would work with Aaron. He seemed to have a very sharp wit and she never knew where jokes would land with him. Thankfully this one worked and Hotch let out one of his rare laughs, shaking his head slightly at his inability to keep unwanted thoughts in. At least he hadnât made a comment about y/n, who he thought looked lovely in her more relaxed outfit. After a moment of silence, he blinked and said, âWell alright then. You lead the way, though your apartment should be paying you for having to deal with this.â y/n chuckled and grabbed her purse as Hotch got his keys and wallet from the counter. They spent the next half hour chatting comfortably about work or people in the office, and whatever came up naturally. It was pleasant for both of them to just be allowed to relax in the presence of the other for once. When they had finished, Aaron thought for a moment that he understood y/n better. He did, but the most enlightening thing he would learn about y/n would come later in the year, and when it did, it hit Hotch like a load of bricks.Â
It was September, and the weather was just starting to get cool in Virginia. The crispness of the air had the team in mostly good spirits. The latest cases had been easier. Hotch was sipping his coffee from a cup Jack had given him for Fatherâs Day last year when there was a knock on his office door. He looked up from the rim of his cup to see y/n pop into the room and close the door behind her. After heâd helped her with her apartment, she had been more relaxed around him, and came to him every now and then with questions she still had about past cases or current files the team was supposed to do. The forms were often asinine and useless youâd been working in the department for years. Every time y/n made an appearance, Hotch had to settle himself and act calmly. It reminded him so much of the first time y/n had asked him for a favor. When she had been a new agent and afraid to disappoint him and the rest of the team. But this time was different and he could tell. This wasnât y/n being shy to ask for help, or âchecking in on himâ as she said when she had no reason to be in his office but inexplicably wanted to be there anyway. When y/n stepped in there was no attempt at a dad-joke. Instead, she was looking at his carpeted floor and there was an aurora of burden that came with her.Â
Hotch was up and out of this chair before the words, âWhatâs happened, y/n?â left his mouth. y/n swallowed dryly and looked up at Aaron. He could see her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. y/n sniffled and stepped forward, leaning against the edge of Aaronâs desk as she said the easy part first, âI need some time off. A week or so, maybe more.â Hotch nodded his head in understanding saying, âOf course, you can get all the time you need. Can you tell me what happened, please?â There was silence, and y/n looked at her hands as she shakily replied, âMy mom died yesterday. She made me the executor of her estate, so I need to go down to her house and work some things out with her will.â Hotch moved from his side of the desk to y/nâs and gently wrapped her in a hug. He could feel her shaking against him. He held her without much force, just giving her something softer to cling to than the sharp edge of his oak desk. y/n was grateful that Aaron had moved to this position. That she didnât have to look at his face which was filled with worry. And she could not only hide her sadness but also her shame in the crook of his neck and shoulder. After a comfortable amount of time, y/n stood back and asked, âCan I leave now, or do you want me to stay till the EOD?â Hotchâs grip on y/nâs arms tightened slightly as he looked down at her and said, âOf course, you can leave now. Iâll send HR a memo. The team will help you if you want y/n. Iâll help you with anything you need. You just have to ask.âÂ
y/n sniffled and ran her hand under her nose which she knew was unbecoming of a federal agent, but she was past spent and decorum had seemed to go out the back door with the news that she would need to return to her childhood home. A place she had avoided for many years now. Her behavior repulsed her, expanded by her sense of shame. She didnât want anyone with her for this. No one could see, and no one on the team could know. Still looking down, y/n said, âThank you, Hotch. Can you just tell the team that a family emergency came up? This situation, itâs, itâs private, and I think I need some time to just get my head around it.âÂ
Hotch nodded in understanding. He had had moments when the rug had absolutely been ripped from underneath him. Aaron felt that there was something more going on, but he knew now was not the time to pry. Instead, he said, âYes, of course, y/n. Can you just send me the address of the spot youâll be staying at so I can give it to HR. Theyâll ask you for it anyway, so if you let me know I can help you skip that step.â y/n looked at Hotch and said, âSure Hotch. Thanks. Iâm just going to get my stuff and go.â Aaron let y/n go and he watched her walk to his door, turn, and raise a hand half-heartedly before saying, âThanks,â one more time and slipping out the door as quietly as she had come in.Â
Hotch felt a tug at his chest. There was a small feeling of dread that he couldnât not feel after y/n had left the room which made it hard for him to do anything else than send the forms to HR on y/nâs behalf. He leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. He hadnât once heard y/n talk about her parents. He knew that they had existed. It was on her transfer paper and application to the BAU. Clearly, the government had to know pretty much everything about a person to hire them into the inner ranks. But unlike Reid and Morgan, and occasionally Emily, y/n didnât relegate any details about family around the team. He had always pictured her as an island, alone. At that moment Aaron decided that he would check in on y/n often in her absence. He hoped it wouldnât ruin the trust they had slowly built between them, but his conscious wouldnât let him not make sure she was okay because something inside him told him there was more going on here than simple grief. That feeling only grew worse as three days passed and y/n didnât answer any of his calls and only one of his texts asking if she was okay, or if she needed anything. Heâd offered to send her food, or coffee, or anything to her hotel, but there had just been one text: âSorry Hotch, Iâm too busy to think about this right now, thanks for the offer, Iâll take you up on it once I have more finished.âÂ
On the fourth day, a Saturday, Hotch couldnât take the silence anymore. He knew he was pushing it, but he had y/nâs hotel address and the address of her momâs house because she said sheâd be at both pretty often working on things. Aaron thought it was absurd that the FBI still asked for a mailing address when someone went on leave. It was like asking for a fax number when everyone had a cell phone in their pocket. That was what made y/nâs non-response so jarring. As Aaron put the second address into his GPS, he was surprised to see that it was only a forty-five-minute drive away. He considered that y/n probably could have stayed at her apartment if she wanted to, but as Aaron got further from the city and into the exurbs, past the exurbs even to roads in disrepair, closed CVSâs franchises, and mobile homes, he realized that this juxtaposition from the luxury and safety of the city to this could be exhausting apart from all the emotions and work she was doing. Aaron wasnât exactly surprised by what he saw as he got further and further away from Quantico. He knew the makeup of Southwestern Virginia, but the poverty of the area never failed to make him take a hard look at what had once been a thriving community. He didnât want this part of y/nâs past to affect how he saw her. Not that heâd ever judge her for living in a place like this, but with her life being so guarded, he couldnât help but make assumptions about why she had remained quiet so often.Â
When Hotch got the the far edge of one of the many trailer and mobile home parks it was easy to find y/n even if she hadnât answered his two calls that morning. The only thing Aaron needed to see, y/nâs old car, was parked outside of the mobile home at the far edge of the plot. There was no house number or mailbox to indicate he was at the right place, but he knew he was. He parked beside y/nâs car and stepped out of his. As he walked closer to the house and locked his car doors he noticed the very rundown state of affairs at the domicile. Most of the windows were covered with cardboard and mildew was creeping up the edge of the fake wood siding of the housing. A few feet away from the front screened door the small assaulted his nostrils and he had to take a few deep breaths through his mouth to stop from being ill. The scent was distinctly one of rot, waste, and decay. With his arm over his mouth, Aaron wondered if y/nâs mother had died and been found a few days or perhaps a week after she had been deceased. The thought appalled him for y/nâs sake, and the idea of her being inside the home made him quicken his steps to see what was going on.Â
Aaron moved up the two cracked and chipped concrete steps. He knocked on the gnarled screen door. y/n had kept the inner glass door open to get better air circulation of air in the room. Hotch swallowed and softly shouted, ây/n? y/n, are you in there? Itâs Aaron.â The sound seemed to be absorbed into the house, the doors gaping mouth sucking everything into its blackness. The inside of the house was dim. Hotch couldnât see any lights on and there seemed to be piles of stuff near the door half blocking it. Before Hotch stepped inside he thought that maybe the piles of boxes might be y/n packing up her motherâs things to get rid of or sell. However, after a minute of y/n not answering, Aaron decided to move inside the home and realized he was wrong. Hotch had to open the door and slide through the opening sideways to fit around the boxes which he realized were a fire hazard right away. As he was about to call to y/n again, Aaronâs eyes adjusted to the room and the words died on his lips.Â
The front room of the small mobile home was filled with stuff. Boxes upon boxes were piled on top of each other. Many of which seemed to be growing mold or deteriorating. The boxes at the bottom were falling apart and yellowed or brown. The floors were also filthy, sticky, and littered with debris. As Aaron moved his way carefully further into the room he couldnât help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of things around him. Not only were the boxes and trash overwhelming, but the scent had gotten considerably worse now that he was inside. After Hotch passed another pile of boxes, papers, and files he noticed that in the far corner was a couch which had one cushion cleared of garbage. It was the only clear spot he had seen in the house at all. Not that the couch cushion was clean, it was stained and smelled, but it didnât have stuff on it. Aaron was coming to the realization of what y/n had grown up around as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area.Â
This space was different and yet the same as the rest of the house. In the kitchen the windows werenât covered up, so there was more natural light which highlighted the clutter even more. This clutter also wasnât in boxes. It was on the counters and piled in all of the corners and crevices. The scent of rot was so bad here as boxes of discarded food, possibly years old sat on counters and in the sink. There were plates and cups forgotten and even as Hotch surveyed the disgusting scene he could tell there were bugs festering in the piles of rotting paper plates and unfinished coffee cups. There was one trash bag, half full of stuff sitting on top of one of the piles, but that was the only sign of life that Aaron could sense. From how bad the hoarding looked, he assumed that this had been going on for years, if not multiple decades.Â
Hotch was fully in the kitchen and had almost forgotten why he was there. He was so surprised by what he was seeing that when y/n, who was very confused as to why her boss was inside her deceased momâs house, rounded the corner, she was startled at his presence. Aaron whipped around effectively knocking a pile of things off of the metal folding table onto the floor. He watched as if in slow motion as a glass half of a puss-colored liquid crashed to the ground and broke. It seemed so loud in the small confines of the house that seemed to absorb all sounds into its piles of decay. He and y/n looked at the mess heâd made for a half second before a number of bugs, bugs that Aaron knew y/n didnât like scurried out from the pile on the floor, and from the kitchen counters and onto the walls. y/n saw the bugs as clearly as Hotch and nearly jumped out of her skin swatting and brushing herself, afraid that some had gotten on her. Her breath had picked up and Hotch could see that y/n might be sick. Hotchâs instincts kicked in and he didnât even apologize or explain why he was there. He simply knew that he had to get y/n out of this house. As far away as he possibly could. He stepped forward ignoring the retreating bugs looking for cover in some other dark corner of the room, took y/nâs arm in his, and started leading her toward the front door. y/n was trying to say something to him, ask him a question perhaps, but the blood was pumping in his ears and his heart was thumping in his chest. Heâd answer any questions y/n had once they were outside.Â
Aaron didnât care that some boxes fell as he pushed the pile in front of the door out of the way. He could feel y/n shaking now and he wrenched open the screen door and followed her out, down the stairs, and into the front yard. y/n was still shaking and patting herself down like she might explode into flames while looking for bugs. Hotch stepped forward assertively and stilled her hands as he thoroughly brushed her off from her arms and shoulders, then down her chest and legs. He then moved to her back and did the same thing. When he did find a bug, he brushed it off and didnât say a thing about it. When he got back to y/nâs front, she was breathing harshly through her teeth but seemed to calm down as she asked, âWhat are you doing here, Hotch?âÂ
Hotch looked at y/n and her eyes were telling him two stories. One was logical, âIs there a case? Did something bad happen? Do you need help?â and the other was everything else, âI didnât want you here, go away, canât you see what Iâm going through?â Aaron felt terrible for how this had ended. He hadnât expected this, but he knew the best answer was the truth, so he said, âI was worried about you,â and nothing else. y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself before looking over Aaronâs shoulder and into the house. y/n spoke the truth too, Hotch could always tell when she was lying: âI didnât want anyone to see this.â Aaron swallowed and nodded, replying, âI know. Iâm sorry.â He hadnât known of course, but now he did, and all he could do was apologize.Â
y/n composed herself. Putting her emotions back into all the boxes where they belonged and stood waiting for Hotch to say or do something. She knew if she started whatever conversation was about to happen sheâd break, and she never wanted that. It was the thing that she had learned since leaving home; her secret weapon. Lie, tell half-truths, donât show your emotions. Donât let them know where you come from or who you really are, because if they knew, theyâd never understand or give a damn about you. Slightly delusionally, y/n hoped that Aaron would get back into his car and leave, pretending he hadnât seen anything. That he didnât know her secret, and when she came back from leave, he wouldnât say anything. He was kind, maybe heâd forget for her sake?Â
Aaron watched the emotions play across her face like a silent film star on the big screen. It was only a series of seconds before y/n was back to the person he knew. The silence was intense and instead of leading with his emotions, Hotch tried to think logically. He assumed if he went from the heart heâd say something or ask a question that would distance y/n from him forever. So instead he asked the first logical question that came to mind, âHave you been in the house long?â Hotch was concerned that y/n might get sick again, this time from real mold and whatever other bad things inside the home, though his brain could think of little else apart from y/n not only as a child but an adult in such squalor.Â
y/nâs soft, âNoâ had him relax. One thing was for sure, if he could avoid it, he wouldnât be having y/n go back in there. Hotch looked back at y/n as she continued speaking, âIâve mostly been in my hotel looking over the legal documents and trying to set my momâs debts in order. And arrange some kind of funeral, though I doubt people will show up. She was kind of a recluse near the end of her life.â Aaron nodded along, grateful that she hadnât spent much time here. He looked around the yard, unwilling to leave y/n here in this state, but also awkward about how heâd discovered this part of her past that she had so desperately hidden away like the trash inside. Aaron composed his next sentence carefully and asked, âIs there anything important that you need inside? Any of your momâs documents, or items that have value?â Hotch tried to sound sincere in his words. He meant them, but with so much stuff inside, most of it looking like garbage, he knew it could come off as sounding condescending or like a joke.Â
y/n thought for a moment, shifting uncomfortably on her feet before saying, âAll the important stuff is out like her documents and stuff. I really should go back in and start cleaning. I rented a dumpster out back for the week and itâs not going to fill itself.â Hotch appreciated that y/n was trying to be lighthearted through this, but he shook his head no, replying, âIâll hire someone to come and clean up. y/n. I donât want you going back in there.â He didnât phrase it like a command. On this account, he had no authority apart from his care and growing feelings for y/n.Â
At Aaronâs offer, y/n looked back at the house from which she had fled so many times. Could this be the last time? Could she walk away and never look back? Never feel like she was slowly being buried alive by junk and trinkets and trash? She took a breath of clean air and considered that maybe she could. Maybe this was the end she had been dreaming of for so long. Maybe someone had finally come to save her from this hell. As she was about to turn around and say, âYes, please. Letâs do that,â to Aaron, a single item crossed y/nâs mind and she paused. She looked up at Aaron and truly asked for help for the first time in a long time. âThereâs a stuffed rabbit inside. Itâs in my room I think. Could you get it for me?â In asking this of Aaron, she was opening herself to him almost wholly. It was an invitation for him to see all of the parts of herself that she had hidden. It was the chance to be ridiculed as she had by friends in childhood who came over and saw how she lived. It was the chance for men, older men, to not even come inside and leave her mother sobbing in the front yard. y/n was already swallowing back the tears when Aaron would say no and leave her. It was all too much for most people. It had been too much for her too. She wouldnât blame Aaron as he drove away to something safe. To a clean apartment and shower. To a son who loved him. To someone who was no longer his wife, but someone who still cared. Given that choice, how can you pick the former?Â
âWhereâs the bunny? Is it a certain color?â The questions almost knocked y/n off her feet. She took in more air before saying, âItâs in the very back room. It used to be my bedroom. Itâs pink with a white nose and long floppy ears.â Aaron nodded, shaking off his coat, ready to go back inside. As he moved past y/n, she grabbed his arm and said, âYou donât have to do this Hotch. It may not even be in there.â They both looked at the home and this time Aaron tried to be optimistic as he said, ây/n, do you really think your mom got rid of your childhood stuffie?â y/n couldnât help but laugh at the ludicrous question. She let Hotch go and watched as he entered the house while her heart was trying to figure out what to do with itself. Since she had heard the news of her momâs passing, she was on the precipice of a very high and ragged cliff face. All she would have to do was fall and everything would be over, but Aaron was like the pair of strong arms that held her back. Asking if this was what she really wanted.Â
Aaron went back into the house once more trying to ignore the smell. He carefully pushed past the kitchen and into the narrow hallway. There was hardly room for him to squeeze his broad frame though. He found himself coughing a lot as particulate matter got into his system. Once out of the darkened hallway, he moved to the final door at the end of the home, peaking into the two other rooms, the main bedroom and the bathroom which were somehow worse than the front of the house. The farther he got back the more the trash piled up. He paid no mind to what was on the floor or what he was stepping on or over to get y/n what she needed to be rid of this place. Heâd have to look up hoarding more thoroughly now. Heâd been to a few homes on cases in the past where it had seemed to be an issue, heâd even had to call CPS on one family so they would get their act together. However, this was the worst case heâd ever seen, and he could only imagine what it was like growing up in an environment like this. Hotch had so many questions he felt like asking, so many ideas running through his mind, but he knew heâd have to be sensitive. Now was not a time for an interrogation. Now was the moment to remind y/n that he would support her. That he could be there for her, and if he couldnât say the other things he might want to, the things he kept hidden himself, the least he could do was that.Â
Hotch had to push open the door harshly to get into the back room. It was so dark inside that Aaron pulled out his phone and turned the flashlight on. This sent multiple bugs and what Hotch assumed was a small rat scampering into the dark. Aaron was surprised at how overwhelmed he could be by this problem, but even being in the house for a few minutes had him desperate for space and clean air. y/nâs apartment made total sense to him now. There was no clear path in this room and Hotch moved over whatever he needed to to get to the far wall. Under a window that was also covered with cardboard, he found a twin bed. It was mostly clear of stuff apart from the detritus in the room and he wondered if y/n or her mother had kept that one space clean. He was thankful to see the stuffed animal was on the center of the bed, old and stained brown by some substance of unknown origins. Aaron picked it up and moved as quickly and carefully as he could back out of the house. He attempted to look like he wasnât running out of the place to not make y/n feel worse about his being there, but there was no hiding that once he was outside he felt so much better. He drank in the air like water and had a final fit of coughing before he moved toward y/n.Â
The very sight of Aaron with her old stuffed animal had y/n near tears again. She could have lived without it, but it had been a single constant in her life and it was a reminder of everything sheâd lived through. Having it felt like a trophy: âI made it. Iâm here. Look at where I am now.â As soon as Hotch handed the bunny over with his long arms, and once y/nâs hands were around the worn-out toy whose fur was all but gone where she had hugged it as a child, she broke. There was nothing or no one that could have stopped her from pulling the rabbit to her chest and crumbling to the ground with sobs that wracked her body so hard that it hurt to breathe. Hotch watched as she crumbled to the ground and he ran forward trying to catch y/n, but she slipped out of his grasp like oil. y/n was curled in on herself and shaking and Hotch bit the inside of his lip. He moved slowly, not going to make any surprise moves on y/nâs fragile mental state, as he lowered himself to the ground. Once on his knees, Aaron leaned forward and placed one of his large hands on y/nâs back. She didnât pull back from his touch, either too overwhelmed to do so, or comforted by him. Either way, after a moment Hotch leaned in further and covered her more with his body, anchoring her to something other than the ground and herself.Â
It felt like a long time, like forever until y/nâs cries weakened and her breathing evened out. y/n let her body relax slightly, exhausted by her outburst. There were so many things y/n wanted to say to Aaron about how she was behaving. She figured this type of volatility could get her kicked off of the BAU, which is one reason sheâd not wanted anyoneâs help with this situation. She wanted to apologize but all she could say was the question that had been plaguing her for years, âDo you know what it feels like to have someone thatâs supposed to love you chose absolutely shitty worthless trash over you? Do you know what thatâs like Hotch?â y/n had spoken so softly that it was hard for Aaron to understand her, but the existential ache in her voice was one he knew well and he replied honestly, âNo, y/n. I donât, and Iâm sorry you have to ask questions like that to yourself.â There was another loaded pause and y/n let herself go fully limp. Hotch hadnât left yet and there was nothing left to lose if she just let go for a moment. Sheâd spent her energy, there was nothing left to give. Hotch supported y/nâs body, never letting it fully lay on the ground. He looked over her and said softly, âLet me get you to your hotel, y/n. Or just away from here, okay?âÂ
y/n nodded and Hotch helped her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily. Letting him take her anywhere but here. The pair was moving toward Aaronâs car when they stopped. y/n looked up from the ground to see what the issue was and why they had stopped. As soon as she saw who was approaching them, she froze. Went absolutely stiff as a board, and if Aaron hadnât been there she would have fallen over, but her hands gripped onto his shoulder like a vice and she could feel him flinch but not move away.Â
Aaron saw the man walking their way slightly later than heâd liked. He was leading y/n toward his car. He was going to take her to the hotel and try and get some food and water in her before making any more suggestions. But this new man, though he seemed harmless could pose a problem to him getting them out of there as fast as possible. The approaching figure walked with a limp and was probably about fifteen years older than Hotch. When he stopped he could feel y/n stop too, bumping into him slightly. He could feel her eyes lift past his shoulder where y/nâs hand was resting and the change in demeanor was so drastic that he could feel it. The coldness and stiffness radiating off y/n signaled her discomfort along with her harsh grip on his body. Instinctually he moved in front of y/n. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news. Hotchâs protective stance didnât stop the man from walking about a foot from them and saying in a weak voice, ây/n. Is that you? Itâs hard to believe itâs you. I havenât seen you in years.â The man spoke like Aaron wasnât even there, and there was an awkward pause when y/n should have responded back in some way but didnât. That didnât stop the man from continuing like nothing odd was happening here and saying, âI heard about your mother, y/n. Iâm sorry⊠I just wanted to come over here and let you know.â y/nâs grip tightened on his shoulder even more but he didnât grimace, and when y/n replied in a voice so void that he wouldnât believe she was there if she wasnât holding him so tight, âIâm sure you are,â Aaron knew something terrible had happened between them. No one sounded like y/n without it, whatever it was, it was bad.Â
That was when the flip switched on in Hotch and he moved in front of y/n totally blocking her from view. If looks could kill the man in front of Hotch would have been found in cardiac arrest so bad that it seemed medically impossible. Aaron didnât say anything, he didnât need to as the man finally noticed his presence and almost wilted on site. The man opened his mouth and extended his hand out a millimeter but then just as quickly shut his chapped lips and turned on his heel moving as fast as she could without it looking like an outright sprint toward another building further in the neighborhood.Â
Once the man was out of sight, Aaron moved y/n to his car and opened the door for her. She slipped into the passenger seat and was back to her early state in the BAU. When she would lose all affect. Hotch helped buckle her in and then got in on the driverâs side. He started the car and turned on the AC, it had gotten surprisingly warm and Hotch felt flushed and he couldnât tell if it was from anger or something else. The pair didnât talk during the ten-minute drive to y/nâs hotel. However, Hotch looked over at y/n every now and then to make sure she was still with him. It felt like if he didnât stay tuned in on her she might slip away to a place heâd never be able to find her again. At the hotel, Hotch asked y/n what her room number was and she said, â251â and handed over her key fob. Hotch took it in his hand and led y/n inside and up to her room. If a stranger walked past them they might think something sketchy was going down. y/n looked drugged from her state and Aaron was like someone taking advantage of that opportunity. But there was no one there to see them, and for that, Hotch was grateful.Â
y/n slumped into bed and Hotch sat down on the edge of the mattress. He knew that he needed to give y/n space. To let her rest and recover herself from what must have been a terrible day even though it had only been an hour that heâd been with her. Heâd ask her if sheâd like him to leave or stay, but first, he asked, ây/n, who was that guy?â For the first time since theyâd gotten to the hotel room, y/n looked at Aaron and said in a whisper, âDonât make me say it, Aaron. PleaseâŠâ Hotch needed and put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. He didnât need to know. Inside he knew, and he realized in that moment he wasnât leaving y/n alone. Not ever; sheâd been alone for too long and heâd help her change that if she wanted that.Â
It wasnïżœïżœïżœt until a few months later, when the air had cleared and the skies stopped looking perpetually gray that y/n told Aaron what he had asked months ago. This was after they had been dating for a while. He knew almost everything about her now. He had found out the main source of her shame and after that there had been little to hide from him, thus beginning a relationship had been natural. She had asked him many times why he came that day and his answers varied, but the theme was consistent. âI was worried about you. I had a bad feeling. I just needed to be there,â and whatever other motivation Hotch might have had conscious or not y/n didnât question them. Heâd come when she had needed someone and now as they were laying next to each other, in their pajamas and a sheet over them sheâd tell him the rest.Â
y/n rolled on her side and ran her hand down Aaronâs sharp jawline. His stubble was slightly growing out, and she knew heâd shave it later that day. His dark eyes found hers and a hint of a smile on his face. y/n said, âHotch, you once asked about that guy, in my momâs neighborhood. Do you still want to know?â Hotchâs eyelids closed slightly. He was thinking through this offer. It wouldnât change anything about how he thought about y/n. He had the utmost respect for y/n and how she had handled her life after all the terrible situations sheâd lived through. And this would be no different. He knew heâd respect y/n for how sheâd acted in whatever situation she had been put in, but his response wouldnât change. Because of that he honestly replied, ây/n, if it would bring you peace and make you feel better then Iâd like you to tell me. If it would make you feel bad or change anything then I donât need to know. Iâd like to know, but there are parts of ourselves that can stay hidden if itâs for the best. I trust you to know whatâs best.âÂ
y/n had a feeling this would be the response from Aaron. He always was so considerate of her and her past. She knew that even though Hotch said he wouldnât look at her differently, there was the nagging feeling in her mind, that was always in her mind, that the truth would push whoever she was with away. And even if it was slightly selfish, y/n loved Aaron so much that if she had to lose him, then sheâd rather be the one to cut the cord sooner rather than latery/n let out a deep breath and said, âIâd like to tell you.â y/n paused before adding, âIâve never told this to anyone before, so if I get confused or it sounds weird, Iâm sorry.â Hotch nodded with understanding. He placed his hand on y/nâs arm and looked at her with encouragement.Â
y/n got that far-away look in her eyes as she did when she thought about the far-away past. However, he could tell that she wasnât fully immersed in the memories as her thumb glided over his knuckles. Aaron wondered if it was too painful to fully go back there, but either way, he was ready to listen. y/n took a shallow breath and said, âMy momâs⊠problems⊠have always been there. She used to tell me that it had nothing to do with me. I got that, or I tried to, but even if the hoarding wasnât about me, it still affected me. It still made me smell funny and made it hard to do homework, or hard to eat any normal meals. When I was very young I just assumed everyone lived like we did because we were pretty isolated.â There was a break as y/n bit the inside of her lip as she decided how to continue. When she had her timeline as clear as her mind would allow, she continued her story: âWhen I got old enough to go to school I had a real wake-up call and I figured out that what I was living wasnât ânormalâ as I had believed. This meant that I got out more often, which I was glad about and I joined as many clubs and sports as possible to stay away from home. But I was like, eleven, so there werenât a ton of options and we were poor, but I did what I could.
This was a blessing and a curse because I made some friends, but I never told anyone about what it was like at home. It was too embarrassing for me. My absence and meeting new people gave my mom time alone to buy more stuff without me around and it gave her a chance to meet some new people too. You know my soccer coach, or drama friends momâs and dadâs.â Aaron nodded. y/n was slowing down, which he sensed meant that the story was going to get harder to tell from then. y/n swallowed and continued, âMom started bringing guys around, drinking and stuff, but none of them would stay once they saw what her place was like, and I donât blame them. Then one day one of your neighbors, that man that talked to me when you were at my momâs house was over. I found them together more and more at home, so I thought they had a thing. I was surprised that he stuck around. Rumors fly in that type of environment. One day when the house was really really bad he told me I could spend some time with him at his place if I wanted somewhere clean to study.â Hotchâs brows pulled together. Heâd heard these stories time and time again and the pit in his stomach balled into a knot.Â
âI thought he was being nice, at first. It was nice for a while, but he, you know, he made me pay him back for his kindness. Aaron pulled y/n into a tight hug and whispered, âIâm sorry, y/n. Iâm so sorry.â There was a tense pause before Hotch asked, âDid you ever tell your mom?â y/n tensed and he knew this was the point that was tormenting her. Not that any of what she had said before wasnât incredibly inhuman and cruel, but there were strong feelings attached to what was coming next. y/n was silent as she nodded her head yes. She sobbed into his chest and rasped out, âI did tell her after it got bad. She⊠she didnât believe me. She didnât want to believe me, because that man was someone who was willing to live and sleep with her delusions. I was the price of that relationship.â Hotch nuzzled his nose into her shoulder and whispered, âIâm so sorry, sweetheart,â over and over again like a lullaby. After y/n had soothed slightly, she said, âI never told anyone else, Aaron. I let it fester, and I was scared. But⊠what if he hurt other people after me? Other kids? I canât live with that. This job, our job, I thought it would make my guilt feel better, but no matter how hard I try it doesnât go away.âÂ
Aaron pulled up a bit and wiped away y/nâs tear-stained face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and so sad. Hotch shook his head and said, ây/n, you were a child. So many people failed you. I imagine you were clinging to what you knew. The only thing you knew. No one can blame you for that, and if they do, thatâs on them. I am so sorry that no one was there to protect you then. Iâm here now, no one, no one will ever hurt you like that again, and if you want to talk more about this, Iâm ready to hear you. If you want comfort, Iâm here. If you want to speak to someone, a therapist, or a lawyer, Iâm here. Iâm here,â Hotch echoed again making sure she knew that sheâd never be put in that place again. As long as he was alive, it would never happen again. y/n relaxed against him. She felt so much lighter having said everything. She knew Aaron, and she knew he was speaking the truth - he was there for her and he would be as long as she wanted him to be. Aaron, despite his flaws, was committed, and he didnât give up on things. y/n rested her hand against his heart and felt it beating under her palm, steady like he was, and for the first time in over a decade, she had nothing to hide from someone she cared for.Â
Hotch was sure to be careful with this new information y/n had shared with him. He had an even keel and he kept his promises. He had even more respect for y/n than before, and he treated her the same with that new knowledge. He knew that if he made a big deal of y/nâs situation that was not what she wanted. Like all things with their relationship, they took time with each other, letting what needed to happen do so in due time. However, even though Hotch could treat y/n with the same love, the knowledge of the manâs actions who had harmed her so severely ate at him. Not only that, but that he had seen him. That the man who had tormented someone so young and innocent was still walking around free of repercussions started a small seed of darkness in his spirit.Â
Aaron normally didnât let cases get to him, but whenever there were children involved he could only imagine Jack and now a young version of y/n in the same situation. Sometimes he dreamed of the man heâd seen in the trailer park. Dreamed of him dying in various ways. He knew it wasnât good. He knew he couldnât let him affect him this much, but there was no stopping the hatred that was growing in his heart. After a while, Hotch had researched the man and found out where he worked, and his criminal record. It was no shock that he had a long list of pretty crimes one of assault and battery. Aaron was always shocked by the freedom of information. It took him two days to find all of this out. He realized he was privileged as an agent, it was his job to find information about people, but even so, the surveillance state seemed to be getting worse every day and no one even noticed it. He pushed that thought aside as he glared at the address on the online yellow pages. He closed the private tab and sighed, making a not to delete all of these accounts once he got home and to call Jack and see how he was doing.Â
After a few months of dreams about the man and y/n that seemed to intensify in violence, Hotch knew that he couldnât outrun this feeling of anger. It ran in his family, and he could normally control it, but this situation dealt with someone who was as close to himself as anyone had been, so forgiving and forgetting was not an option. Plus, the pervert who had hurt y/n didnât deserve to be forgiven. He deserved what was coming to him. Aaron knew he couldnât risk doing something like Elle had, even if that too was justified. He had far too many people relying on him, but he knew this anger wasnât helping him, so with careful thought and research, he made a plan. Yes, couldnât be a Batman-type vigilante doling out justice, but he sure as hell could instill fear into the hearts of weak, hurtful, and manipulative men, and that was what he was planning to do.Â
He waited until the team was on break and y/n was going to see a good childhood friend. He knew sheâd be so wrapped up in spreading her warmth with those around her that sheâd not fully notice if he wasnât as responsive as usual. This plan was only going to take two days according to his carefully crafted agenda. With the team on leave, heâd also be safe from a case calling him away and the other BAU members wondered why he was near the edge of the state and not at his apartment which was a forty-minute drive to Quantico.Â
It was early when Aaron caught his 4:45 AM flight. He didnât need to, he could drive to the trailer park easily, but he didnât want to leave a clear trail behind his actions. He rested during the flight and knew that once his task was done, heâd be able to let this go and be fully present for y/n. To return the care she always gave him. He felt that he couldnât love her unless he let this hatred go. The flight was short, less than an hour, and it landed in a small dinky airport on the edge of Virginia. He then rented a car from the airport and paid in cash. As the sun was fully lighting the sky, Hotch pulled up to the work site where the man he was after was sitting in an air-conditioned office, making sure workers didnât get hurt on the job. When Aaron found out that that was what the man did, he could only cringe at the irony of someone like that keeping grown men safe but having such neglect for children.Â
Hotch turned off the car and sat for a moment, tapping his hand on the wheel for a second. He was wearing work clothes, some heâd picked up at Goodwill two days ago. As he stepped out of the truck, he fit right in with the other men coming on the job. It was bound to be a hot day from the sun and lack of clouds. Hotch didnât look at anyone as he walked toward the portable set of offices on the construction site. He stepped up the wooden stairs and entered the door on the left side. The man he was looking for sat in an uncomfortable-looking swivel chair, drinking a bitter cup of coffee. The man looked up at Aaron and eyed him over. Clearly thinking he was looking for a job, the man said, âHR is the door over. Youâre lucky, we fired some guys yesterday.â Hotch clenched his jaw and didnât say anything. The silence intensified and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat and said, âCan I help you with something?â Hotch let out a breath and locked the door of the office from the inside, trapping the man in with him. The man fidgeted in his chair, not expecting this kind of reaction and not having a clue what to do.Â
Once Aaron was standing in front of the manâs desk he said, âThere is something you can do for me. And you will do it, or youâll regret the rest of your sorry life.â The man in the chair swallowed thickly and stuttered, âM-man whatâs this about? Do I know you?â A tiny flash of understanding moved over his face but it went away as the fear returned. Given his response, the man clearly had more than one enemy, and perhaps this wasnât the first time this kind of conversation had happened before. Aaron didnât take the long road as he said, âIf I so much as see you, or know that youâre around a child, ever, youâll be in the ground before you can reach for your phone and try and call the cops.â A look of horror splashed the man like water and he took a bit too long to reply, âI donât know what youâre talking about. I donât know any kids man.âÂ
Aaron let out a breath and replied, âI donât believe you. The way youâre biting the inside of your mouth right now tells me youâre lying. Also, the sex offender registry says otherwise. If youâre going to blatantly lie to me, at least be right.â Another minute of silence elapsed and Hotch continued, âYou can lie to yourself all you want, but you canât lie to me. So Iâm going to say it once more. If I ever see your face near a kid, or in a paper, or near someone I care about I will end you, and youâll regret every choice you ever make. If you think you can get away with doing something youâre wrong. Every time you pass a school, every time you sit in a pew, or at a restaurant youâd better be watching your back because I will be there somehow someway.âÂ
Hotch slammed his hands on the cheap wooden table, shaking it and the trailer as the man flinched away. The man closed his eyes, expecting to be hit, but by the time he opened his eyes, the large man who had threatened his life was walking out the door.Â
Back in the car, Aaron pulled out, the man wouldnât call the police, if he did, his criminal record who be brought up again, and questions would be asked. Questions the man couldnât afford to answer. Hotch took his time driving back. He made a one-night stay at a hotel and saw a one-man play of Marx in Soho. He enjoyed the performance, but it was more of a cover-up than anything else. The team would ask him what heâd done while off and heâd have something to tell them for once. The next afternoon, he checked out of his hotel and drove back to the city. He arrived at the rental return lot in the evening, dropped off the car, and then got back into his own. As he entered the driver's seat, he felt the need to be with y/n. To have her presence relax him and to know that heâd done the right thing. He texted her to ask if she was back yet. As he started the car, he got a text from y/n saying, âAaron, yeah Iâm back. I got home this afternoon. I was just going to sleep early, I just got out of the shower. If you want to come a spend the night Iâd love to have you here.â Hotchâs heart warmed at her response and he quickly texted back that heâd be over in a few minutes.Â
When Aaron got to y/nâs apartment he parked in a visitor spot and grabbed his keys. He let himself in with his spare and closed the door with a soft click, locking it behind him. There was only the small stove light and lamp on in the kitchen and front room. Hotch looked into the clean space and called out, âHoney, Iâm here. Do you want me to turn off the lights?â The soft reply from the bedroom was a simple, âYes, please.â Hotch smiled and switched off the lights and then moved down the wooden hallway and into y/nâs room.Â
y/n was just crawling into bed in her favorite night shirt when her bedroom door opened. She beamed at Aaron. Seeing him always made her feel safe, and even though she was tired, she was so happy for him to be here. âAre you staying tonight, or just stopping by to say hi?â Aaron looked around the room, feeling better being here already. Once he started slipping off his shoes and undoing the buttons on his shirt, y/n relaxed more into the bed now that she knew he was staying. When he was just in his briefs, Hotch dipped into bed and turned off the main light in the room. Under the covers he snuggled y/n from behind, breathing in her scent of moisturizer and shampoo. He stayed like that for a little while as they both got comfortable. y/n hummed her approval and whispered, âIâm sorry Iâm not up for more tonight. Thanks for coming. How was your break?â Aaron kissed the nape of her neck and replied equally softly, âIt was good. I saw a play youâd like yesterday. Iâll tell you about it tomorrow.â Aaron could feel y/n smile in front of him as she said, âAgent Aaron Hotchner, the man of culture. I canât wait, love.âÂ
y/n was as tired as she sounded as she fell asleep a few minutes later. Hotch brushed her hair lightly and held her a little more tightly as he relaxed for the first time since y/n had told him the extent of what had happened to her. He couldnât save everyone, sometimes it was too late, but this once, this once he was going to be there for someone. He was going to keep being there. As he drifted off, he was able to sleep and not have any dreams at all.
Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune
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#aaron x y/n#aaron x fem!reader#aaron x you#aaron x nonbau!reader#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotcher#criminal minds#cm#fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#aaron comfort#levi writes#comfort fic#aaron fluff#cute aaron#soft hotch#protective hotch#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#soft hotch fic#hotch fic#bau reader#please read the warnings#i finally wrote something!!!!!#protective aaron#twice buried#i am alive#not edited#might edit later
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More Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs
Since my last fic rec post got a great response and I've read some excellent fic in the meantime, here is a new list with more recs!
The Case of Richard Rowland by RB (BlueflowersandWings)
Charles' dad hires the Dead Boy Detectives to solve his murder. It's. Traumatic. The writing and characterisation are excellent and heartbreaking and the case is intriguing. I have many theories! Cw for domestic abuse, child abuse and homophobia.
we all have a hunger (series) by Anonymous
I couldn't choose! They're both so good! The first is from Crystal's PoV as she tries to figure out what happened to Niko. It also features some wonderful Crystal & Edwin bonding, an absolutely gut-wrenching speech from the latter and The Sandman cameos. The second in the series is an Edwin-centric (so angsty!) case fic featuring Accidental Child Acquisition, greek gods, the Cat King and a happy ending. Superlative writing in both.
Terrible, Horrible, No Good and Very Bad by hibye
Feelings realisation as Charles pines for Edwin and tries not to show it because he has to be sure he's in love. Terrific, very funny writing and Charles is a precious himbo. Excellent payoff too.
Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees
Charles and Edwin investigate a mystery at St Hilarion's and discover a gut-wrenching secret. Compelling and brilliantly written.
I'll let you go if you kiss me goodbye by shadowquill17
Idiots in Love meets Friends with Benefits and Misunderstandings. Edwin breaking his own heart for no reason is very accurate and Charles gets a cool queer mentor.
the spooky thing about penis ouija by skadii
College AU! Everyone's alive and Charles and Edwin have been besties since middle school. This is another Oblivious!Charles fic; he's like a well-meaning golden retriever trampling Monty in his clueless wake. Also, the gang perform a seance and Edwin is a ghost-sceptic, which is hilarious.
after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr
Charles finds out that Edwin's body was never found and will not let that stand. Has a kind of gothic romanticism I really love and a nice in-universe explanation for the "Charles and Edwin can only feel each other" trope.
The author has written lots of other great fic, including a very cute librarian!Edwin and single dad!Charles human AU with bonus Crystal/Niko.
A Form of Genius by Neous (Greyality)
Charles shows off for Edwin. Crystal Suffers. Idk, it's just cute.
the taste in your mouth by greenaerie
When Esther hurts Charles, Edwin decides to take up the Cat King on his original offer. Interesting exploration of dubious consent, shame and guilt. The author is fairly sympathetic to the Cat King, while also exploring Edwin's complicated feelings, including the impact of his upbringing, general repression and, yes, coercion on his first time. It's not exactly explicit, but take care if those are tough themes for you!
The Manuscript of Real People by paraph
Slow burn Boarding School AU where they're both alive and it's also the 70s. And they were roommates! I have been longing for a fic like this. All the jock/nerd romance tropes, complicated by discussions of bullying and Charles' (perceived) proximity to Edwin's bullies. Edwin is an orphaned scholarship student, so it's also a kind of role reversal and touches on themes of class and poverty. Minor cw for sexual harassment as the Cat King/Thomas is also there (sorry catwin fans).
When We Walk Together We Tend to Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor
Charles meets Death and gets to say goodbye to his mum. A sweet concept and it's nice to see Death of the Endless getting some love!
Marriage is a Payne by Ace_of_Turtles
Arranged Marriage and Omegaverse AU featuring the boys agreeing to get married to spite/escape their awful parents. Not explicit and fairly light on the a/b/o details, in case that's a squick for anyone.
job officially jobbed by vernesatlas
Charles decides the answer to the handjob question requires a practical demonstration. Very funny and well written and the title is excellent. All the kudos.
Try, Try Again by Asidian
Alterative ending to episode four. After the Night Nurse, Edwin makes a second attempt to comfort Charles. Heartwarming and sad.
The Risk and Rewards of Communication by Opossum_Subatomic
Another alternative ending to episode four featuring Edwin coming clean about the Cat King. So well written. I feel like this is going to be a fandom classic.
take your chances (win or lose her) by ObsessedWithFandom
Charles decides to check in on his mum. Some very sweet established relationship fluff followed by discussions of domestic abuse and family feels. The ending opened up some amazing possibilities for future fics! Highly recommended.
The same author has also written the ghost of the past that you live in, which is an excellent in-depth exploration of Charles' bisexual awakening and trauma-related repression.
Anyway, I'm going to try to make this a regular thing, so please send me more recs!
#fic recs#fic rec friday#dead boy detectives#dbda#payneland#fanfiction#my fic recs#my recs#edwin payne#charles rowland#dead boy detective agency
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Make That Double, Ch4 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]
Word Count: 5.1K
Warnings: non-con, PIV sex (protected), cunnilingus, lactation kink, mommy kink (all with geto)
Gifted with supernatural abilities or not (Sorcerers are a thing? For real? Something like this still difficult for you to accept!), thereâs one downfall about both Geto and Gojo you know you can exploit.
The fact that theyâre still men.
After whatâs unfolded in the underground, Gojo stays behind for a little aftercare. Youâre amazed the two even believe in it, all things considered. Youâre snuggled between them in a large bath, full of Epsom salt, bath oils, bath bombs, even a few rose petals to add a little more zing to the vibe. And the only light illuminating the place is the tea light candles theyâve garnished around the tub. Perhaps this is to butter and soften you up around them, or itâs more between them since theyâre already established in some kind of weird arrangement themselves. Youâre not sure if you can call it a relationship.
Geto has a more protective hold around you while Gojo is content just lounging in the steaming hot bath water. Geto traces his finger lightly down your arms, murmuring something into your ear.
âHow do you feel now?â he questions, kissing the crown of your head. You shift a bit in place. Thereâs not much room between the three of you. Youâre practically wedged between them. The slightest movement or little wriggle of your body, and you can feel either of their dicks brushing against your thigh or hip underwater. You fucking loathe every minute of this, but itâs better than them violating you, you suppose.
You donât respond. Gojo glances at you, assessing you with a curious twinkle in his eyes.
âThatâs her first time feeling real dick inside her, and we didnât even move. Of course sheâs still feeling a little overwhelmed,â Gojo interjects with a disapproving frown. âI guess youâre right. We should have taken things a bit slower, but you got carried away too, Suguru!â
They talk about you like youâre not even in the room with them. Theyâre checking off a long, long, loooong list of things that really pisses you off, huh? Beyond the stalking, kidnapping, killing innocent people, violating your bodyâŠand all that hunk of shit.
âTrue,â Geto agrees while absently twirling a strand of your hair. You fight back the urge to wince. You hate how touchy these pricks are. âI just find her difficult to resist.â
Gojoâs brilliantly, blindingly bright sky blue stare bores into you as a toothy smile graces his features. âI guess I canât blame you there. But come on, I was playing nicer than you were! You are so full of shit.â
And you know what they say about men not only being stupidly easy to bend or manipulate, but also being stupidly competitive?
A light bulb goes off in your head. You try to keep your expression neutral. Sure, youâre pissed as all hell at these guys, but you have to learn how to play the long game like you told yourself before.
âSatoruâs right,â you pipe in, as you pry yourself away from Getoâs embrace and snuggle into Gojoâs bare chest, your finger tracing over one of his pecs. Getoâs arm splashes the water as you pull away. Heâs probably taken aback from his lack of immediate reaction. âHeâs been nicer. Gentler. Like a lover should be. Isnât that right?â
You lean into his ear as you end that sentence with a low, sultry purr, blowing a bit of air into it. You feel Gojoâs breath hitch as he cages you more tightly into his hold, fully secured in his warmth. You donât react right away, but you wish you could, because the pride swelling in your chest that that was that easy is unbearable in the best way possible.
âBut of course, Princess. You know I wasnât doing anything wrong,â he murmurs as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. Getoâs stare now bores into your back, his jaw slackened. You try not to grin. Not yet, at least. You bite down the urge hard because of how fast this is working.
To add fuel to the fire, you sigh dreamily into the kiss, your free hand cupping one of Gojoâs cheeks as he deepens it.
Now Geto growls under his breath. Bullâs eye.
âRemember what weâve discussed, Satoru,â he warns, and with a hearty laugh, Gojo pries one eye open to glance at Suguru. âI hope you remember why I allow this in the first place.â
âHmmmmâŠI believe we discussed something about me playing fair when it comes to her, and you know I am! Iâm not doing anything wrong here,â Gojo taunts back, before twisting his head and twirling his tongue against yours, shutting his eyes again.
âSatoru,â he growls again, simmering in the bath now as he shifts in his spot, the water sloshing slightly as he adjusts, supporting himself against the edge of the tub. Stewing in his own bullshit and you wish you can pry your eyes open to sneak a glance, but you want to play this up a bit more. Favor one over the other sometimes. Find other ways to push their buttonsâŠor at least figure out the proper buttons to push. Thatâs what really grinds anyoneâs gears, but especially men like Geto and Gojo. They are as prone to rivalry and proving to each other who has the bigger sword as much as they are prone to being a team of menaces.
And if a girl like you is on the line? Well, as long as you play your cards right and donât end up having to fold, it canât hurt to mess around with this.
Besides, donât you think you deserve a form of entertainment since youâre having to endure so much crap? Of course you do!
Gojo breaks the kiss only to drag his tongue along your jaw, his eyes glinting in a mischievous manner as they lock on Geto, still stewing in his anger and bullshit. You feel your heart leap and backflip in joy. What a sight! Itâs a small win, but a winâs a win and you know youâre not going to have very many of those. You may as well soak it up like a sponge.
Or like your fingers are the bath waterâŠ
âOh, come on, Suguru,â he purrs, as one of his hands glide down your stomach, eliciting a shiver out of you. He quirks an eyebrow as he judges his old friend. âJust teachinâ ya some manners. Like man, maybe you got to read another one of those self-help books on how to please a woman or something. You could seriously use it.â
You bite your lip as you wait for Getoâs retaliation, but shockingly, he has nothing to say in response to that. He only scowls as you snuggle in more into Gojo, and Gojoâs dreamy sigh only seems to piss Geto off even more. What if Geto doesnât want this arrangement in the first place? He only does it because he still cares about Gojo.
(Not that you care, but itâs something to take into account.)
You really hope you arenât starting bigger fires. But itâs not like theyâd hold back on you, either way, no matter what they insist otherwise.
Remember, youâre playing the long game hereâŠeven if you might not win in the end, itâs better to put up a fight than to not try at all.
Geto is still a bit lenient with you when it comes to anything sexual. Which youâre not complaining about in the slightest. It leaves your mind more space to think about your upcoming assignments and exams; this is your last semester and in spite of everything, youâre almost done.
The girls do seem to enjoy spending time with you, which makes all of this a little more bearable. You try to fish for any other information you can about Geto out of them. Anything you can use. Youâre not some person gifted with supernatural gifts, but you are gifted with common sense, a hint of street smarts and intelligence.
You doubt itâs going to be enough.
At some point, you do run into some other members of Getoâs âfamily.â Suda, you have met a handful of times since your first day there. Sheâs his secretary who doesnât make any effort to engage with you, but she does send a lot of dirty looks your way. Another member you meet is named Miguel, a sorcerer who hails all the way from Kenya.
You have to admit: the guyâs handsome. But heâs guarded, aloof, keeps mostly to himself, and most of all, he doesnât seem entertained by your presence in the slightest. But since he respects Geto, heâs supervised you a handful of times while you did any group work with students online.
Just to ensure you donât try anything stupid.
The computer Geto has given you, you learn, actively records everything you do online anyway. Itâs not like you can bypass it. And only Geto can lock and unlock everything for you.
Youâre watched like a hawk with everything you do. Even if you call for help, nothing can save you from what these beings are capable of, anyway. Youâre not going to drag innocent strangers into this mess. You have to find another way.
One evening while youâre walking back to Getoâs bedroom, you accidentally brush against Miguel. You bow your head and apologize, but he grunts to himself.
âYou being here isnât right,â he mutters, leaving you dumbfounded as he scurries off. Like not right as in âyou donât belong with themâ? Heâs so right about that, but you canât help but wonder if thereâs something you missed.
Not like you can afford to dwell on it. If youâre not back in the bedroom before Geto returns, you have something bigger to worry about then.
You close the door behind you, sighing in relief when you notice heâs not returned from some business he had to attend to that you didnât care to pay attention to and hear about.
You disrobe, clad in just your lacy undergarments like he expects, before sliding under the covers of the unbelievably soft bed. Thatâs one perk out of this. The bed back in your apartment isnât the nicest. You can appreciate the smaller luxuries here.
You release a huge breath of relief. Some time to breathe before Geto pollutes your personal space again.
Oh, how wrong you are. It seems you canât get too comfortable. The door creaks open and in strides Tweedle-fucking-dee.
âHello, little dove,â he greets with a small smile before shutting the door. âDid you have a lovely day with the girls?â
You nod, hugging the blanket to your chest. âThey were content in letting me play Animal Crossing with them.â
âSounds like a peaceful time,â he replies as he crawls into bed with you, scooping you into his arms and pulling you flush into him. His finger traces your lips as he affectionately gazes down at you. âIâm glad to see youâre adjusting better than I expected.â
You say nothing, averting your gaze. This all feels soâŠugh.
Remember what else you can do?
âSuguru, why do you allow Satoru access to me?â you inquire, feigning innocent curiosity.
His eyebrows flash at that question.
âWe just tend to share,â he answers, fiddling with a lock of your hair. Your lips purse.
That doesnât sound convincing.
âWe?â you probe, scooting closer to him. Play this up as much as you can. âOr he? Because it doesnât sound like youâre happy with the idea. Isnât this about the girlsâ happiness, ultimately? So that they can live with a functional family?â
âI want to give them a healthier upbringing than I had, indeed,â he concedes with a hum, snuggling you closer as he nuzzles his nose into your collarbone. âBut Satoru is special to me too. It wonât be much longer until he can no longer see me, anyway.â
Healthier upbringing? âŠHe must see the irony in that confession, right?
You cock your head slightly, parting your lips, as if inviting him for a kiss. âWhyâs that?â
âPolitics,â he answers smoothly, accepting the bait and pecking your lips. âRegarding sorcerers.â
âOh. Um.â Words die on your tongue, as youâre unsure where to go from here.
âIt doesnât concern you, little dove. You donât have to worry about it,â he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before his lips trail lower, stopping between your breasts. He breathes out slowly, as if willing himself to relax. He peppers gentle little kisses along your chest before he unclasps your bra and tosses it carelessly away.
âSuguruâŠ?â you murmur before a gasp interrupts you as he fondles one of your breasts. His calloused thumb brushes over your perky nipple a few times, before pinching it between his fingers.
âThe medication worked faster than I expected,â he whispers, dragging his tongue between your breasts. You let out a breathy moan. Your breasts have definitely become more tender and sensitive, drawing more reactions out of you that certainly please Geto to no end. While he hasnât been so handsy on you since the last time Gojo came for a visit, he hasnât let go of his particular fixation on this. Feasting on either these or on your cunt, depending on his mood. âYou have the sweetest milk⊠I canât stop thinking about it.â
How the hell are you supposed to react to that?
He playfully bites the little bud, making you whine from the light sting, before he sucks the nipple into his mouth. Groaning low and guttural as the rush of liquid hits his eager tongue, gulping it down dramatically.
He removes his mouth for a moment to speak.
âMy pretty dove,â he coos, pressing a kiss to the drenched nipple. âMy pretty Mamma.â
A record stops in your brain. Your eye almost twitches.
âŠ.what. The hell.
You know he wants you to be a mother to the twins, butâŠbutâŠwhat the actual hell is this?
âIâŠ.umâŠâ your voice fades like the end of a soundtrack. You donât even have a comeback to that. Itâs probably best you didnât, because Geto raises his head to meet your eyes, his own violet hues shimmering with lust and something else too gut-wrenching to name.
Whatever it is, itâs probably some twisted amusement at your aversion to the way he addressed you.
âWhat, donât like the idea of me submitting to you? Mamma?â he purrs, nuzzling his face between your breasts, kissing between them. You clench your teeth, biting down the smart retorts dying to slip from your cannon of a mouth. Not like you have any real power even if he did.
His fingers ghost down your waist and hips, and you shudder, chewing on your lip to bite back a moan. âDo you like it when I call you that?â
âHell no,â you retaliate in a sharp tone, and a sadistic grin spreads across his face.
âEven better,â he jives, before seizing your opposite nipple and suckling hard, eager to drink more of your essence. The glug, glug, glug from his eager slurping and sucking makes you flush from embarrassment. Itâs so gross. You hate that now you have to not only mother the girls, but to fulfill some more weird ass shit for Geto.
His lips come off your drenched nipple, finally, to give him a few moments to breathe but then he snakes down until his head is caught between your thighs. His fingers rub against your clothed pussy, tongue running along his lips.
âI think youâve had enough time to cool off in the last two weeks since Satoru visited, donât you think?â he muses out loud, peeling your panties aside to reveal your perfect cunt already coated in a light sheen from your slick. âOh? Someoneâs enjoyed themselves and they wonât admit it?â
Fucking piece of shit, you sneer in your mind. Â
Two fingers dip between your folds, sliding along them before they infiltrate your entrance.
âSuguru,â time to see how far this can go. âSatoru was way nicer back there. Why canât you be like that?â
Geto freezes, but his fingers donât exit, instead he continues to pump them in and out of you in a more slow, careful manner.
âWhich of us do you prefer, Mamma?â he mutters, curious. âDo you really think he is more adept than I in treasuring you? Heâs not even going to be here as much anymore.â
âHm? Am I allowed to give you an answer, Suguru?â you retort in that feigned clueless tone, tilting your head. âI think you know the answer. But I am curious. Why do you let Satoru get under your skin like that, when youâre the one in control?â
Suguru bites back a sigh. ââŠItâs complicated, Mamma. Something you canât understand.â
Oh, how you loathe the fact that he can talk to you like that.
Dragging out a mock sympathetic sigh, your hand rests on Getoâs hair as his fingers idky pump in and out of you. He purrs in approval before his mouth descends on your cunt, closing his lips over your folds and slurping on your slick.
âSuguru,â you whisper, âPut Satoru in the back of your mind. Heâs not here most of the time like you said, so why does it matter what I think of him when you have me all to yourself now?â
You ignore the bile threatening to ooze from your mouth. God, this alone is dehumanizing to you, even if Geto insists youâre above such treatment.
âThatâs true, Mamma,â he replies, his voice muffled against your soaking cunt, his tongue still eagerly laving along the sensitive skin. âAnd he wonât be back for another monthâŠsome mission with his students.â
âSo then,â you reply in an uncharacteristically sultry tone. âWhat have you got to worry about, darling?â
He growls in approval, suckling harder on your slick folds, and you inhale sharply. Guess he likes being called that.
âYouâre right,â he grunts, pulling away to speak. âYouâre all mine.â
You just keep telling yourself that, buddy.
Itâs not hard to tell Geto might have a strong oral fixation. If he wants to he would definitely stay like this, but he has his own duties to fulfill (none that you care to learn about), and youâre just his pretty little trophy.
God, life is such a thing, isnât it?
You do have to admit heâs far too good at this to be real. Had he been a real lover and you might have enjoyed this a lot moreâŠ
He adjusts your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest as he rolls his tongue along your slick cunt. The little flicks of his tongue against your clit are soft yet just firm enough to make your back arch off tbe bed.
âThatâs it, Mamma. Let go. Let me take care of you,â he coos before his tongue probes your entrance.
You hate that it feels kind of good. His grip on your legs tighten, his finger pads digging into your skin. His tongue works its magic, pushing into your gummy walls and youâre writhing, almost keening beneath him. Youâre gonna come. When you do, itâs in a crescendo and all Geto does is laugh in pure delight.
Quiet times with the girls have come to be the moments you largely prefer. Mostly because Geto keeps his hands to himself and you find that the girls are the least of your worries. They are more or less easy to please. As long as they have the pleasure of your company, you donât have any qualms or issues with them.
Geto still likes to keep close to you, though. Whether that means you sitting right in his lap around the twins or just seated next to him while they do their own thing. Either way, youâre not leaving his line of sight no matter what.
He adjusts you a bit, snuggling you in close to his chest and you can smell the notes of citrus and sandalwood from his strong cologne. Strangely a comforting scent never mind itâs radiating from his body.
Nanako and Mimiko are facing behind you while they do a few rounds of Mario Golf. Their attentionâs completely away from the two of you so occasionally Getoâs hands will go to places where they shouldnât but itâs not like you have a voice here. His large, calloused hands are resting on your thighs, fingers brushing against the skin ever so slightly. The robe is absolutely for easy access. Why make the job unnecessarily difficult?
âSuguru?â you whisper, audible enough so only he can hear you. You lift your head, nuzzling into his shoulder. Just play the long game. Donât lose sight of your goal and thatâs finding a way to get the fuck out of here.
âWhat is it, Mamma?â he whispers back, matching your tone. His eyes shine with something akin to affection. How quickly it seems he let his resolve around humanity crumble around you, at least. Perhaps he wants you to disengage the barriers you have around yourself. Whatever the reason, it doesnât matter, because you donât care, either way.
âIt would be wise to be less indecent,â you warn in a low tone. âYou want to be a better lover to me than Satoru, donât you?â
âOf course, havenât I proven that already?â he retorts as his hands venture to cup your ass cheeks. You curse under your breath. This guy really isnât different from Gojo in a lot of ways. Tweedle-fucking-dee for sure.
He grabs one of your hands before you can have an appropriate reaction, guiding it under his robe, on his pelvis where he makes you caress his growing erection.
When the girls can glance behind them at any time to see their adoptive father behaving less than decent.
âHelp me with this, and Iâll keep my hands off of you for the rest of the week if thatâll make you happy,â he demands into your skin before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
âAround the girls?â you retaliate harshly, careful not to raise your voice.
He lifts one of your legs to shield the view a bit, in case the girls do cast curious glances, which they indeed will.
âBetter, Mamma?â he purrs, while guiding your hand before you move it on your own, utilizing the soft palm and heel of your hand to stimulate him. He bites back a low grunt, careful not to draw attention to the two of you while the girls are engrossed in their own worlds. Itâs better for them that way. Better not to taint their innocence any more than it already has been, right?
If you can even call those girls innocent given how casually they discuss such tragedies they have witnessed so young in their life.
âNot by very much,â you finally answer through your clenched teeth. An idea flashes in your mind, but you donât know if you can execute it well. Itâs worth a shot.
âDonât you think itâd be a bit better if we had a little more privacy, darling?â you ask while batting your eyelashes to sweeten the dealâno matter how gross you feel doing thisâand all the while tracing little patterns along his clothed, straining erection that you can feel dampening. âAs tempting as this is, Iâd prefer if you could be freer to express yourself.â
âYouâre right, Mamma,â he replies, glancing at the girls with a neutral expression before hoisting you up into his arms princess style. Your knee pushes against his pelvis, where you can still feel the dampness from his leaking cock, concealing it from sight, but barely. âThey wonât miss us much.â
He effortlessly carries you away from the living area and strides down the hallway leading to his bedroom. You wonât ever call it yours; you donât belong here, just like that family member of his told you. You have spared yourself some embarrassment, at the very least, as he rests you on your back on his bed with shocking gentleness.
âI know this will be your first,â he growls into your neck before trailing heated kisses along it while fully disrobing you. âBut I will follow through on my promise. After this, I wonât touch you like this again for another week. That makes you happy, does it not?â
Like he actually cares, you think, but rather than rebuking with a snippy reply, you nod in response and a slow smile graces his sharp features before he pries your legs apart. He tuts when he notices you arenât wet enough, inspecting with a few of his fingers digging into your folds. Your breath catches in your throat.
âThereâs always a solution to these things.â
He moves to gather the appropriate suppliesâlube. And a condom. He actually cares enough to wear a condom this time.
âI donât want there to be anyâŠunfortunate mishaps,â he states, as he wraps himself with a clean condom before squeezing a liberal amount of lube into his hands. âI donât care to breed for more sorcerer children, considering the chances of that are already slim to noneâŠIâm already happy with the family I have. You, the girls, the cultâŠSatoruâŠâ
He pushes two fingers coated in lube into you without so much as a warning and you arch your back into the bed, gripping the sheets. He chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head.
âEven though youâve experimented so much with your own toys, the way you behave is just so cute. So innocent, as if you donât have your own dark, filthy desires you want to fulfill,â he babbles as he stretches you with a third finger. âItâs misleading considering what you choose to wear beneath your clothes, and what Satoru has found rummaging through your dresser. You want something like this, donât you?â
Your face drops at that little tidbit of informationâso they have been watching you for longer than you think, even going as far as invading your space? Before you even know they existed? This is insane.
âNot like this,â you confess, squeezing your eyes shut as the way he stretches your walls with his fingers burns so good but you donât want to admit it. Even if it means staying in his good graces. As if you truly give a damn for no other reason than survival. You dare to prop yourself a bit on your elbows, glancing down as Geto continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Sometimes he takes the time to admire the way your hole gapes, his lips parted slightly. A line of drool trickles down his chin and you grimace at the sight. What a fucking animal.
âOh, you poor thing,â he coos condescendingly, popping his fingers out of your entrance while lining his protected cock to it. You swallow. Itâs so huge. Sure, Gojoâs is big too, but not in terms of girth like with Getoâs.
Your eyes squeeze shut as a breathy shriek escapes your lips when the head finally breaches you. He coos and whispers sweet nothings to you, tries to comfort you by kneading your plush thighs as he inches the rest of his cock until youâre filled to the hilt. The stretch is so wide, brushing against your walls. Tears brimming at the corners of your eyes as you try to adjust. Itâs nothing like how Gojoâs felt; itâs nothing like how your toys felt either because you have never taken anything nearly this sizeâŠ
Geto cages your body with his, hands pressed to either side of your head as he leans into muffle your little whimpers and whines with a passionate kiss. He experiments with one gentle thrust, chuckling as your hands fly to grip tightly at his shoulders.
âCalm down,â he murmurs, having the gall to actually tell you that is maddening. âYouâre alright. Youâre taking me well. You feel perfect. So tight. Satoru must have really enjoyed that.â
Your eyes are still squeezed shut so you donât bother to glare, just clinging onto him for dear life as he spares you with a few more gentle thrusts before finding a rhythm heâs happy with, because this is for his pleasure. This is all about him and nothing to do with you. Just smile and bear it. Thatâs all you can do here.
âŠWell, not all you can do.
âStop thinking about Satoru unless you want me to bring up how much better his dick felt in there than yours,â you challenge as you dare to pry at least one eye open to get a view of Geto sprawled all over you with his dick balls deep inside. His body is already coated in glistening sweat and, in another world, you might have thought he was the hottest thing in existence. But you know the kind of ugly he is beneath those angelic features of his.
âWhy are you telling me that, Mamma? Are you trying to upset me?â he shoots back, rolling his hips and thrusting harder, making you choke on a gasp. He smirks at that reaction in triumph.
âIâm telling you that to remind you to be better for me, darling,â you reply, sliding a hand down his hips, digging your nails as he adjusts his rhythm. Your eyes roll back as he hits that right spot, and, encouraged, he adjusts his rhythm again, brushing against that area over and over and overâ
ââFuck, Suguru!â you shout as you come, clenching around his girthy cock which feels surreal but horrifying considering this is not how you wanted your first time to be like. Even if it is technically good.
âFeel good, Mamma?â he purrs affectionately, but you can feel his dick twitching and he still feels so hard, like heâs got a long way to go before this is done. No wonder heâs offered a week of recovery following this⊠âDid I make you feel good?â
You bite back the menacing words you want to say and settle on, âYes, darling. You made me feel so good. Now keep making me feel good so that you donât have to be compared toâ!â
ââStop saying his name,â he growls, snapping his hips as he picks up a more erratic rhythm this time, rocking the bed and even making it creak a few times. âHeâs not relevant here. This is about us, Mamma. Me and you. I get to make you feel good for as long as I desire, do you understand? Everything about Satoru is out of sight, out of mind here.â
Men are still men, in the end, you figure.
He doesnât stop until finally, he comes, slipping his flaccid dick out and tossing the used condom away. But he doesnât seem to want to stop at just one, as he tries to stroke his cock back to being fully erect.
He winks at you, grabbing another condom to slip back on.
âIâm sure you can tolerate a few more rounds, Mamma.â
#geto x you#gojo x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#yandere geto#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#yandere suguru geto#erixtales#geto smut#gojo smut#jjk smut#satosugu smut#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#yandere x darling#yandere x you
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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 3
Noah Sebastian X Reader
Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Masterlist
Banner by @flowerynerds
Wheeeeeeee!
________
âHeavenly father,â Isaac began. âWe ask that you bless this practice session. Allow us to spread your love and light through our music and give us the opportunity to reach the souls that need to hear it. Amen.â
âAmen,â the rest of you repeated.
âAlright, friends. What songs do we want to play this week?â
âIâve been leaning towards How He Loves Us,â said Darian.
âOkay. Iâll need to refresh myself on the chords,â said Isaac. âEveryone on board?â
You nodded along with the others, but as they talked over the song list, you found yourself losing focus. Your eyes drifted over to the front of the stage, where you and Noah had sat on Saturday.
You were always so sure that if presented with temptation, you would be able to resist. It had never once entered your mind that there would be a situation in which your resolve would be tested.
But there on those steps, with Noah looking down over you, you knew you would have let your body take over and do whatever it wanted. For the first time in your life, you werenât sure you could trust yourself with someoneâand yet, you werenât convinced it was a bad thing.
Okay, were you ready to lose your virginity to him? No. That was a big step to take, considering youâd only ever had one kiss in your life, but you couldnât deny that you were eager to explore your sexuality more, and that had never been something you were willing to do outside of marriage.
Noahâs logic had you questioning the rules that had been instilled in you. He seemed to think that the rules, particularly those surrounding sex, were not worth following. He had such a confidence about it that you were dying to question where he got it from and what his reasoning behind it was.
Something tugged in the back of your mind, though. Isaac had cautioned you about spending time with him, and how he could lead you down a bad path. You felt yourself straying from what you had always believed, but were they right? Were you being led into a life of sin?
Or was it more complicated than that?
âOkay, everyone clear on the set list for this week?â
You nodded, even though you werenât clear, but youâd pick it up easily enough. You could always ask Ava if you needed help.
âHey, can I talk to you a minute?â
It was Isaac. He was closer than you remembered him being. âSure, whatâs up?â
âI was wondering if I could get your help with something?â
âOkay?â you said, waiting for him to continue.
âSo I want to put together a Christmas concert. I could use your voice. And your help with setting it up if youâre down for it.â
âHalloween isnât even over,â you said.
âThese things take time to arrange. Itâs better if we get a head start.â He flashed a smile at you and rocked back on his heels, visibly eager for you to agree.
âWhat all would I need to do?â you asked.
âReally, I just need you to sing the soprano harmonies. And to spread the word about it. Maybe hang some fliers or something. See if any of the women in your dorm want to come. Iâm thinking this could be a great outreach project if we maybe add an alter call or something at the end.â
You didnât want to. You knew you didnât want to, but you needed something to focus on that wasnât Noah and the way he had you questioning everything about yourself.Â
âIâll think about it,â you said.
âYess,â he hissed, already taking it as a begrudging agreement, instead of a consideration. âPromise you wonât regret it.â
âUh-huh.â
The rest of the session was spent practicing the songs for the upcoming service. You wished you had the ability to stay focused, but all you could think about was the softness behind Noahâs eyes when he looked at you, and how eager you were for Saturday to arrive.
______
âNoah canât come,â Nick said, walking up the concrete pathway that led to the church ground. âHe got roped into working overtime at the factory. Wonât be off until 3.â
âOh,â you said, trying not to let your disappointment show. âSucks for him.â
âNot really. At least heâs getting paid,â he said. âOtherwise heâd have to be here, doing work for free.â
âRight,â you agreed. âYeah, that makes sense.â
âSo whatâs on the menu for today?â he asked, sounding much more chipper than last week.
âSorting donations. Our church is holding a drive to help families in need. Weâre sorting clothes by size and genderâ,â
âGender is a construct,â he cut in.
âOkay, so by size and masculine vs. feminine then.â
"And what if it's gender-neutral?" he asked.
You sighed. "Use your judgement."
âGot it,â he said and punctuated it with a nod.
âAnd then if we get done with that, weâll sort toys by age, and then food by type and expiration date.â
âThat sounds like a lot.â
âYou shrugged. Weâll just do as much as we have time for.â
You led him down into the basement of the worship center, where all the donation boxes were stored.
âStart with that box. Weâll start sorting it based on genâer, feminine verses masculine first. Then weâll do childrenâs versus adults, and after that, go by size. Feminine clothes go there, masculine over there, you said, pointing to piles on two different tables.
âSounds good,â he said, picking up a box and getting to work. You got back to work sifting through the box youâd been working on before he had arrived, picking up the clothes, judging which pile they belonged in and whether they were in good enough condition to rehome.
âMake sure you check for things like stains and tears. We donât want to be sending people damaged things.â
âGot it,â he said.
Nick paused to remove his black hoodie, and you allowed yourself to sneak a glance over at him while he worked. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing tattoos on his arms, though not nearly as many as Noah. He was more muscular than you realized, biceps flexing and relaxing as he folded the clothes.
âI see you staring,â he said and you looked up at him to find him smirking at you.
âI was looking at your tattoos.â
âSure you were,â he said. âGo ahead and stare. I donât mind.â
âI wasnât staring,â you said, looking away from him and back down to the pile of clothes you were sorting.
âAnd here I was thinking Iâd finally caught the Virgin Mary in an act of lust.â
âSorry to disappoint you.â
He slid out from behind the table he was working at and stood next to you, picking up a shirt from the pile in front of you and checking the tag.
âWhat are you doing?â you asked.
âJust thought you looked like you could use some help over here.â
You rolled your eyes. âFine.â
The pair of you worked together in tense silence. You had to admit, the work did go much faster when he was helping. Nick worked hard and rhythmically, settling into a pace that easily bested yours. Every so often, his arm would brush up against yours, and you couldnât figure out if it was on purpose.
âMy god, who donated this?!â he exclaimed after a while. You looked over and he was holding a pair of bright yellow childrenâs pants with a brown stain across the back, his face scandalized.
You snorted loudly. Nick caught it and his face lit up with his own laughter, and the two of you devolved into a fit of giggles.
âWe should probably toss that one,â you said after regaining your composure and pointed to the trash can in the corner. He agreed, balling the garment up and tossing it into the trash, easily sinking it into the basket even though it was across the room.
âDo you think the rest are contaminated?â he asked.
You shook your head. âThe organizers washed all of these in big industrial washers. Itâs just a stain. Still gross though.â
âStill gross,â he agreed.
âAlright, since weâre almost done with this box, Iâm gonna grab the next one,â you said, but before you could even try to lift it, Nick had stepped in front of you, hoisting it easily up onto the table with no effort. Impressive, considering youâd been struggling to even lift the boxes of clothing yourself.
âThanks,â you said.
âNo problem. Hey, so you know how I always say you could use more fun.â
You paused folding the shirt in your hands and raised an eyebrow.Â
âDonât give me that look. You know itâs true.â
You maintained your cool expression.
âWell, weâre doing a Halloween gig tonight at Jollyâs. You should come.â
You considered it. If the band was playing, that meant Noah would be there, and youâd get to see what heâs like outside of community service. It sounded tempting, butâ
âI already committed to handing out candy to trick-or-treaters with the worship team.â
Nick let out a sound of annoyance. âAre you always doing church stuff?â
You laughed. âKind of.â
âWell, what time does it go until?â he asked.
âI think trick-or-treat ends at 8:30.â
âPerfect,â he said. âThe party doesnât even start until after 9:00.â
You considered for a moment, not sure if it would be a good idea.
âI can practically hear you talking yourself out of it.â
âItâs justâŠ,â you began.
âYouâre worried youâll get pulled into a life of sin?â he finished. âCome on. Itâs one party. You donât even have to drink.â
You thought about it. It could be interesting to see the band perform. Get an idea of the kind of music Noahâs into.
âCan I bring a friend?â you asked.
He chuckled, âsure, if itâll get you to come.â
âOkay. Where should I go?â
Nick smiled. âWhereâs your dorm? I can pick you and your friend up there at 9:00 and weâll head over together.â
âSounds good.â
âOh, and wear a costume.â
_______
âNo way! Really?!â Ava half-shouted.
âDonât go crazy. Iâm bringing you to be my accountability partner,â you said. âMake sure I donât make any bad decisions while Iâm there.â
âWhat bad decisions would you even make?â she said, âYouâre the most responsible out of all of us.â
âI donât know,â you said. âIâve never been to this kind of party before, so I donât know what to expect.â
âWeâll be fine,â she said. âDonât be such a worrier.â
She had a point. You doubted you were going to do anything. But then again, you had experienced your first real temptation only a week ago, and had Nick not walked in, you werenât one hundred percent positive you would have resisted.
Only time would tell.
_________
Trick-or-treating went smoothly. You and the rest of the worship band got dressed up in your costumes and handed out candy from the steps leading up to the church. Other organizers in your congregation had set up a mini obstacle course for the children, and a table full of apple cider and glazed donuts stood beside it, with many members of the church gathered around it.
These were the kinds of events you loved helping out at. There was such a sense of community that made you feel like you were part of something greater than yourself. Seeing the joy on everyoneâs faces made putting up with the more annoying tasks well worth it.
Ava dressed as a medieval princess in a flowing white and pink gown. Isaac went as a pirate. Darian and Josh wore matching âThing 1â and âThing 2â costumes. You were dressed as your favorite historical president, but with a twist. The kids loved your costumes, but their own costumes were just as creative.
Part of the event that the church put on involved a costume contest, where the winner would receive a gift certificate for free pizza, soda, and dessert at the local pizza restaurant. It wasnât much, but the kids had gone all out for it.
You and the worship band were in charge of judging the costumes, and after much deliberation between the robot (your choice) and the wolverine (Isaacâs choice), the robot eventually won out.
âIt had blinking LEDs and functioning buttons with sound effects!â you said, when Isaac was salty about the outcome.
âThe kid had home-made retractable claws! Do you know how much engineering that takes?â
âSorry. The results were fair.â
âWhatever. What are you guys doing after this? Want to go bowling?â
âActually, we already have plans,â Ava said.
âOh? Where are you going?â
âWe were invited to watch a local band.â
âOh nice. Where is it? I might want to stop by.â
âOh, uh. I actually donât know. Our friend is going to pick us up,â you said, growing nervous.
Isaacâs eyes narrowed. âWhich friend?â
You shifted, not knowing how to answer him.Â
âItâs the delinquents,â said Ava, unconcerned with the tension that had grown. âCalm down, weâll be fine.â
Isaac looked at you as if you had told him you were going to a strip club. âThat sounds like a really bad idea,â he said. âAre you sure about this? Do you want me to escort you?â
âYes Iâm sure. And no, we donât need a chaperone. Itâs just listening to a band.â
âYeah,â said Isaac. âA secular band.â
âIsaac chill. She asked me to be her accountability partner. Sheâs covered. Now if youâll excuse me, we have to get going.â
Ava grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away. Isaac looked like he wanted to follow, but thought better of it and turned away.
âYouâre welcome for that, by the way,â she said when the two of you were out of earshot.
âThanks. I owe you,â you said. âWhatâs his problem?â
âHe doesnât like them. Heâs been talking to me about it. He believes theyâre bad news, but I think heâs just jealous, to be honest. Youâre no longer paying attention to him the way you used to and he knows it.â
âWhat a crybaby,â you said.
âI mean, can you blame him? You spent the last several years at his beck and call, and now suddenly you dip.â
âThatâs not exactly fair,â you said. âYou were the same way with him.â
âYeah, well, maybe both of us are to blame.â
âYou might be right.â
You and Ava reached your dorm, where Ava stripped off the overskirt of her dress, revealing a much shorter version of her costume, complete with knee socks and heels.
âWhoa!â you exclaimed.
âI told you I wanted to experience life on the other side,â she said. âThis is my chance. Donât judge me.â
âHonestly, Iâm more impressed than anything. But I donât know. Maybe itâs a little much for your first party? Like, should you scope it out first before taking a risk like that?â
Ava shrugged. âIâm tired of the same boring things every day. I could use a little risk-taking.â
You bit back your comments, knowing that you werenât going to change her mind. She was headstrong, which you loved about her, but it also worried you at times.
âJust donât get too carried away, okay?â you said.
âIâm going to have at least one drink while Iâm there.â
âYouâre supposed to be my accountability partner!â
âI can still hold you accountable. Itâs just one drink.â
You sighed and rubbed your forehead, acknowledging to yourself that it may have been a mistake to bring her.
âPlease just donât make me babysit you the whole time. I want to enjoy myself.â
âI promise. Iâll keep my wits about me. Iâll have one drink. Weâll listen to the music, maybe do a little dancing. Maybe Iâll have my first kiss, and then weâll be home by midnight.â
You groaned. âDrinking and kissing? Thatâs a lot to pack into one night.â
âItâll be fine,â she insisted. âDonât worry about me. You just focus on enjoying yourself, okay? This is your first real party. You should be excited for you! Not worried for me.â
As if on cue, there was a knock on your door. You looked at the clock on your phone and it read 8:57.
âHeâs early for once.â
You opened the door to reveal Nickâs bare chest with the image of an eagle holding a fish inked onto it. A tiny purple vest barely covered his shoulders. âAladdin?â you asked.
âAt your service,â he said, lifting the fez he wore up in salute.
âNice,â you commented. âNick, this is Ava.â
âPrincess Ava,â he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. âI like your costume.â
Ava burst into a fit of giggles at the flattery. âYours too.â
âDonât get any ideas,â you said to Nick, already knowing what he was thinking. You saw his eyes scan up and down Avaâs legs.
âWhat are you supposed to be?â he asked. âA sexy founding father?â
âBaberaham Lincoln,â you clarified, fiddling with the fake beard to ensure its placement.
He scanned you up and down. âI guess I see it,â he said slowly. âBut to truly pass as a babe-ified version of Lincoln, I think you need to be a little sexier.â
âI wore red lipstick,â you defended.
âYou could stand to undo a few buttons on your shirt. Or tie it up to make a crop top,â Ava suggested.
âIâm good,â you said.
Nick shrugged. âSuit yourself. Come on.â
You and Ava followed him out the door and began your walk towards town. Jollyâs house was supposedly a mile or so away from campus. The wind carried a chill, but Ava and Nick seemed to not notice, too enraptured in conversation. They were obviously flirting, and youâd have to remember to warn Ava about him. And threaten Nick.
The walk was quicker than you expected, and you vaguely recognized the part of town Jolly lived in. The house was light blue with black shutters. It spanned two floors, but wasnât in great shape. Partygoers spilled out onto the front porch and lawn, all dressed in a variety of costumes. You noticed most were homemade, and you appreciated that, but they also showed much more skin than you were used to seeing and you felt overdressed. You unbuttoned one button at the top of your blouse.
âSo ladies,â Nick said, gesturing to the crowd. âThis is a party. Can I get either of you something to drink?â
âIâm fine,â you said. âIâll take a drink,â said Ava.
Nick grinned. âExcellent. What would you like?â
âWhat do they have?â she asked.
âFollow me to the kitchen and Iâll show you.â Nick and Ava made their way into the crowd, while you hung back a few paces, wanting to get your bearings before immersing yourself into the sea of people. You scanned the strangers, looking for Noah, but came up empty.
So this was a party. It looked like people were having fun. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but it was very crowded and noisy. You wondered if alcohol was the key to enjoying this. Or perhaps knowing more people. Maybe you just didnât know anyone so it was hard for you to keep from feeling out of place.
You walked up the steps and across the porch, weaving in and out among partygoers and noticing the various costumes. Superheroes, characters from popular movies and comic book series. A lot of people dressed as celebrities, and then more generic costumes like firefighter and nurse. Several girls walked around in black bodysuits with cat ears and whiskers painted on their faces. You wondered if they all knew each other.
Stepping into the house, you were met with a big cloud of cigarette smoke. It wafted into the air and permeated throughout the entire house. There was another smell too that you didnât recognize, but you guessed was marijuana.
The tile floor was sticky, you noticed. Your shoes peeled away from the ground with each step and you could almost feel the film they were collecting. It was also hot and humid inside the house, with all the bodies that were crammed in.
Electric neon lights flashed all around in the living room, where several people gathered. It looked like that was where people went to dance. In the kitchen, Ava and Nick leaned up against the counter while Nick poured some red liquid from a large Hawaiian Punch container labeled âjungle juice.â He handed it to Ava and she smiled up at him. His hand went to rest around her waist and she blushed. Youâd have to intervene eventually, but for now, you wanted to let Ava have her fun.
You took a swig of water out of the bottle youâd tucked into the inside pocket of your blazer, which was quickly growing too warm. You couldnât abandon it though, or else nobody would know what you were dressed asânot that it mattered much. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and nobody was paying attention to you.
You found yourself a corner of the living room to stand in and you leaned against the walls, watching the guests as they danced. Some were dancing on each other. Some were making out, while others danced with abandon, twirling their arms above their heads and jumping up and down. It reminded you of summer camp, when youâd do the same thing. Dance with reckless abandon to the worship musicâalthough the context of this dancing was wildly different.
You missed being a kid and getting to participate in all the different activities in the church. Now that you were an adult, youâd taken on more of an organizer and leadership role, overseeing all of these activities. You liked the work, but had much more fun when you were a kid, before all the responsibility kicked in.
A tall figure coming down the stairs caught your eye and you recognized him immediately. He hadnât seen you yet, and you were perfectly content to watch him from afar.
Noah was dressed in all black. He had switched out his hoodie for a tank top, which displayed the full scope of his tattoos. He wore his hair tied back, but on his head sat a pair of shiny, dark black horns. He held a glass beer bottle in one hand and sipped casually from it.
As he made his way through the crowd, it soon became clear he was one of the more popular guests. Several people went out of their way to greet him by offering high-fives, fist bumps, or by tapping their drinks to his. A couple women were more affectionateâthey greeted him by throwing their arms around his neck and wrapping him in a hug, and it was hard to admit your own jealousy to yourself. Noah could have female friends, and it wasnât a betrayal of whatever small connection the two of you had established. Even still, it was uncomfortable to watch.
You could see the moment he spotted Nick, as he immediately made his way over to them. You were relieved to see he greeted him with more enthusiasm than anyone else. Nick introduced Ava, who shook Noahâs hand. You could see on her face that while she was just as taken aback by the abundance of tattoos as you were originally, she was visibly interested in learning who this newcomer was.
Ava said something else to Noah, who smiled and laughed, and then Nick chimed in, but you couldnât hear any specifics. In response, Noah perked up and turned to scan the room. Nick leaned toward his friend to mention something else, pointing in your direction, and when Noah finally spotted you, he nodded and started in your direction.
That was your cue to come out of your little secluded corner. Locking eyes with him, you noticed he wore a pair of contacts that completely blacked out his eyes and made him look like a demon, which you supposed was the intent. Despite that, you were warmed by his smile.
When he reached you, he greeted you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and you found yourself wishing you had worn something sleeveless so you could feel the full effect of his touch.
âHey! What are you doing here?â Noah asked, curious but pleased. âAnd what are you supposed to be?â
âIâm Baberaham Lincoln!â you said. âI thought more people would get that.â
Noah paused, scanned you up and down, and then doubled over in laughter.
âThank you,â he said, and surprised you by wrapping you up in a warm hug and pressing you into his chest. âYou made my night.â
Noah was very sweaty, and you could smell the slight sourness of body odor on him beneath the patchouli scent, but that didnât detract from how much you enjoyed the embrace. Â
âAre you dressed as a demon?â you asked when he finally pulled away.
âSomething like that. I didnât put much thought into it. Just wanted to look scary.â
âWell, it did the trick,â you said. âYour eyes are kind of freaking me out.â
He smiled down at you in response and despite the unsettling costume, you felt your affection for him grow.
âYou donât mind if I drink, do you?â he asked.
âIâm not here to stop you from having any fun. Iâm on your turf now.â You had to lean towards him to be heard over the sound of the music and the crowd.
âIâm really surprised you came,â he confessed. âIt doesnât seem like your normal scene, but Iâm glad youâre here.â
âMe too,â you said. Shrouded in his presence, you began to understand the appeal of these parties.
âFair warning though,â he said, leaning down next to your face so you could hear him. âYou probably arenât going to like our music. Itâs not exactly your style.â You were met with the slight pressure of his palm on your lower back, and you wondered if the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions.
âYeah, I know,â you said, reaching into your pockets and pulling out two foam pieces. âI brought earplugs just in case.â
He grinned, dark contacts not taking away from his genuine delight. âThatâs my girl.â Something erupted in your stomach at the nickname. âHey, come here. I want to introduce you to the band.â He led you by the hand through the party and back out onto the front porch.
âThis is Ruffilo and Jolly,â he said, introducing you to two other heavily-tattooed and long-haired men. âYou already met Folio, our drummer. Ruffilo plays bass and Jolly pays guitar. His real name is Joakim, but we all call him Jolly.â
âNice to meet you,â you said, extending your hand to each of them to shake.
âThis is that girl I was talking about who oversees the community service.â
âVirgin Mary!â Jolly exclaimed in recognition.
Your face fell and you looked up at Noah sourly.
âShit,â he said. âThat probably wasnât cool, was it?â he asked.
âNo, not really,â you said, stepping away from him.
âSorry, okay guys. Just Mary. Not Virgin Mary.â
âMan, come on,â you whined, and Noah giggled to himself at his own joke. You realized you were stuck with the nickname, probably for as long as you and Noah would know each other.
âSo people keep requesting we play Dethrone,â said Jolly. âI think we should.â
Noahâs eyes glanced over at you and his demeanor turned to hesitant. âNo Dethrone,â he said. âIâm not feeling it tonight.â
âOkay, but you donât get to make decisions for the whole band,â reasoned Ruffilo.
âI donât know if my voice is up to it,â Noah said. âItâs a hard one to perform.â
Ruffilo sighed. âTheyâre not going to be happy about it.â
âMaybe next time,â said Noah. âWhen I remember to bring the Throat Coat.â
Jolly fixed Noah with a look of displeasure, but sighed and relented. âFine, but donât neglect your vocal exercises in the future. Itâs our biggest crowd-pleaser.â
âGot it,â said Noah. âI wonât.â
Ruffilo pulled out what looked like a hand-wrapped cigarette which you recognized as a joint and lit it up. He took a deep inhale before passing it to Noah, who accepted and sucked back a long drag.
âYou donât mind if I do this, do you?â he intoned, keeping the air trapped in his lungs as he spoke before exhaling a few moments later.
âNot at all,â you said, though something was telling you it was time to take some space.
âHey, Iâm gonna go find Ava,â you said. âYou guys have fun.â
âYou good?â asked Noah, looking at you with sincerity.
You nodded. âPromise. I just want to check on her.â
âOkay,â he said, taking another drag. âWe go on in a few minutes, but Iâll meet up with you after our set. Wait for me?â
âOf course,â you said, softening despite your discomfort.
You didnât want to leave his side, but if you stayed, you knew youâd be uncomfortable with the situation and youâd already exposed yourself to enough unfamiliarity that night.Â
You made your way back into the kitchen, noting that Nick and Ava had moved. You scanned around the house and finally spotted them on the dance floor. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and they were pressed up close to each other. He whispered something into her ear and she threw her head back in laughter.
It was innocent enough, but youâd step in if you felt like you had to.
Wandering through the house, you searched for a quiet spot and a breath of fresh air. You spotted a back door down a short hallway and made a beeline for it, opening to find it a small back yard with a firepit and only a few people standing around it.
You made your way through the yard, past the fire pit and to the back edge where an old shed sat. You leaned against it, closing your eyes and breathing deep. The cool night air filled your lungs, along with the scent of burning wood from the fire.
You were reminded of nights like these spent at church camp during Vespers. Gathering around the campfire and signing along with whoever played the acoustic guitar. Some of the most transformative times of your life happened around those fires. You felt so connected to God. The Holy Spirit permeated through the air, vibrating with intensity and everyone there could feel it. In that moment, you knew that everyone around that fire, no matter where they came from, felt the exact same way you did.
Now, you felt disconnected from your surroundings in an all-consuming way. It was as if everyone else was riding an energetic frequency you couldnât seem to find and didnât know if you wanted to. Even Ava, your best friend, assimilated seamlessly into the party atmosphere.
You breathed deeply in and out through your nose and ran your fingertips along the paint that was flaking off the siding of the shed, which served to ground you in the way you needed. You knew youâd have to rejoin the party soon, but you were grateful for this private moment of solace.
As if on cue, the sound of guitars blasted through the back door, demanding your presence. You took out the ear plugs and stuffed them into your ears, the foam muffling the sound and softening the world around you, which had grown abrasive in the last hour or so. _____
The basement floor was damp and even stickier than the kitchen. It was also much more crowded than the upper floor had been now that the entire party was gathered into a single space.
The crowd looked on eagerly as the band set up and did their sound checks. The excitement was tangible and you had no idea Noahâs band had such a following.
âCheck. Check,â Noah shouted into the microphone. âI need more in my monitor.â You looked to the back of the room where a small table was set up and someone was running sound.
The sound check took several minutes, but once all the levels were steady, Noah opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest and most demonic sounds youâd ever heard come from a person. You jumped out of your skin, feeling your arm hair stand on end.
Four clicks from Nickâs drumsticks and the entire band joined in, producing a volume even your ear plugs couldnât compete with.
âAlright you motherfuckers,â Noah shouted. âWeâre Bad Omens and weâve come to steal your souls on this beautiful Hallow-fucking-ween.â
The crowd cheered. Many began jumping up and down in time with the music. The lights flashed from bright green to a deep red, and Noah began to sing.
âDead on the inside!âÂ
You never knew live music could be this loud or a crowd this energetic. Youâd gone to a few Christian rock concerts, but they were nothing compared to what was happening in front of you.
As the band played through the first few verses of the opening song, the energy of the crowd steadily grew. By the time they hit the crescendo, it looked like a fight had broken out in the audience.
You were immediately put on guard, not sure why nobody else was reacting to it, including the band, when you overserved a few minutes longer and realized that the audience seemed to beâŠenjoying themselves. It wasnât a fist fight, you noted. It looked like a bunch of people pushing each other around and flailing their bodies into each other.
Moshing. They were moshing. You remember hearing about it from Isaac, who was into more of the heavier music like The Devil Wears Prada. He said they headlined a Christian music festival he went to over the summer and mentioned that heâd been in a mosh pit, describing what it had been like in vivid detail.
Looking at the audience now, you couldnât ever imagine someone like Isaac holding their own in a crowd like this.
The next several songs went on like that. The energy of the crowd never died down, and Noah alternated between screaming and singing. You had no idea how his throat could even handle making those noises without bleeding halfway through the first song. Youâd have to ask him about that later.
All-in-all, he was right. It definitely wasnât your preferred style of music, but you could appreciate the passion behind it. Noahâs singing voice was actually beautiful. He hit high notes youâd never heard a man hit before, and he did it with ease. You wished he would stick to that type of singing, but you supposed there had to be an appeal to the screaming, or else the crowd wouldnât be so lively.
Despite it not being your style, you had fun watching the band perform. Noahâs passion was obvious. He threw his entire body into his performance, letting the music reverberate from deep inside him, and you were content to watch him in his natural habitat.
The juxtaposition was wild. He was normally so closed off and reserved. Here, he was uninhibited. It was like he belonged on a stage and in front of a microphone, and you found yourself feeling happy that he found this outlet for himself.
When the band played their final note, Noah thanked the crowd for coming out and told them all where they could purchase merch and download music.
âDethrone!â someone shouted from the audience.
âNot tonight, guys. That oneâs hard on my throat,â he said.
âDethrone!â more people shouted. The crowd began to chant over and over again.
âI mean, itâs Halloween. We kind of have to play it,â the man youâd met earlierâRuffiloâsaid into the mic.
âDethrone! Dethrone! Dethrone!â the crowd chanted, and you wondered what kind of song it must be to cause the crowd to react so strongly.
Noah hesitated, looking very torn. He scanned the crowd for a few moments before locking eyes with you and his face held a look of what you could only describe as apology. He held eye contact with you for several minutes, and then he sighed and turned back to the crowd.
âAlright all you fucking cowards, this oneâs called Dethrone, and I want to see you tear this fucking place to the ground.â
The guitar came in with a fast and heavy riff for a few bars before the bass and drum joined them. The lights flashed on and off and Noah let out a deep, guttural growl that lasted several bars.
The crowd went absolutely feral. The entire audience began thrashing around and pushing up against one another. Even at the back of the room, you got shoved left and right.
Throughout the noise of the crowd and the screaming you could only make out bits and pieces of the lyrics.
ââŠwhen I was killed and born again.âÂ
âIf heâs home Iâve got a message from below. Fuck you.âÂ
ââŠTake me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face.âÂ
The moment you realized what the song was about, you reached your breaking point. You had to get out of there. You did your best to navigate your way over to the stairs through the sea of thrashing people. You were almost to the steps when someone slammed an elbow hard into the side of your face.
âOw!â you shouted, but nobody paid attention. You reached the railing and pulled yourself up from the crowd, rushing up the stairs as fast as you could and outside the back door of the house.
You could still hear the song from the outside, but it was muffled enough for you to take a few deep breaths. Your face stung where it had been hit, and you had to shake your hands vigorously to steady yourself.
It was too much. It was all too much. Not just the party and the drinking and the drug use, but the anger of it all. The violence. The deliberate threats made towards the God youâve known and loved your entire life. The hatred towards Him. And it felt personal. It felt like an attack on everything youâve built your life around.
You let out a choked sound, no longer able to hold the tears back. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying hard not to make noises in case anyone was around, and stumbled your way to the back of the shed, where hopefully nobody could witness your state.
Inside, you heard the song come to an end and the crowd give one final cheer for the band.
You knew the crowd would be dispersing soon and there was a chance someone would stumble upon you. The yard was completely fenced in and in order to get out, youâd have to go through the house.
You sank to your knees, clutching at the frigid blades of grass, which helped steady you a little. Tears still pouring down, you tried to steady your breathing as best as you can, when you heard your name being called.
It was Noah. You didnât want to answer him. Didnât want him to see you like this. In your head, you prayed a silent prayer he would go back into the house and let you compose yourself in peace.
God, however, had other plans.
âShit,â Noah said as he turned the corner of the shed and found you. âIâm so sorry you had to see that.â He knelt down in front of you, trying to get a look at your face. âAre you okay?â
âIâm fine,â you choked out.
âShit,â he said again, noticing your tears. âCome on, let me walk you home.â
You shook your head. âI donât want to go back through there.â You hid your face, feeling ashamed at your own reaction.
âCome on, letâs talk,â he said, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you to your feet.
âI said Iâm fine,â you protested. This time it came out sharper. You didnât want to take your feelings out on him, but you found it impossible to control your tone in the moment.
âLetâs at least get you into a quiet room. Come on, my studio is in this shed. Nobody will bother you. Promise.â
At the promise of a quiet space with nobody to see you, you relented and allowed him to lead you around the side of the shed. He unclipped a set of keys from a carabiner on his belt loop and used one of them to unlock the door, ushering you inside. He relocked it behind him and plugged in a set of string lights that cast the room in a warm, dim glow.
âHave a seat,â he said and gestured to the couch that lined the wall on one side. You obeyed, sitting on the couch and doubling over, arms crossed over your legs and head buried in them. You continued to work to steady yourself.
Noah set a box of tissues beside you, and then rolled his desk chair in front of where you were sitting. He sat facing you, long legs on either side of your knees. Then he placed his hands firmly on your shoulders.
âIs this okay?â he asked.
You nodded into your arms.Â
âAre you okay?â he asked.
You nodded again.
âWhat happened?â he asked, voice softer now.
âI had a panic attack.â Your voice came out muffled.
âBecause of the song?â he said.
You nodded again.
âShit,â he said for the third time.
âAnd I got elbowed in the face.â
âShit.â A fourth. âCan I see?â
You shook your head no.
âPlease? I just want to make sure youâre okay.â
Reluctantly, you lifted your head to show him.
He let out a compressed breath. âOof. Yeah, it looks like youâve got yourself a bit of a shiner,â he said, cupping your face gently.
You refused to meet his eyes, instead opting for a tissue so you could blow your nose. An embarrassing amount of mucus shot into the tissue. Then you pulled a second one to wipe off any makeup that may have smeared.
âDoes it hurt?â
You sniffled and nodded. âYeah.â
âShit.â
âIs that your favorite word or something?â
âIâm sorry,â he said. âI should have warned you about the crowd. Iâm so used to that stuff now. I forget what itâs like for someone whoâs never been to a show like that before.â
âItâs fine,â you said.
âItâs not though. Iâd been drinking. I didnât have my wits about me, and because of that you got hurt.â
You sighed. âIt wasnât the elbow,â you said, finally meeting his eyes. His brows furrowed with concern and he let his hands slide down to rest on your knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over them. You could only handle eye contact for a second before you had to look away again. âIs that how you really feel?â
Noah puffed out a breath. âI didnât want you to have to see that.â
âI knew you had a lot of anger. But not that much.â
He dropped his head, staring at where his hands rested on your knees. âIt must have been pretty jarring.â
âYeah,â you admitted. âI think it was just a lot for me. I was out of my comfort zone all night, and then that happened. Iâve never seen so many people with suchâŠdisdain for God.â
Noah dug his thumbnail into your thigh softly and bit his lip.
âI know.â
âWhy though? Why all the anger? Why the hate? And why do you hang out with those people?â
âIâm one of them,â he said. âI know it might be hard to digest, especially since youâve been protected from it for so long, but there are a lot of people out there who feel that way. It doesnât necessarily make them bad people.â
âBut that wasnât just anger. That was hate.âÂ
âYeah,â he said, cupping the backs of your thighs. He still wasnât explaining anything and you were growing frustrated.
âWhat am I not getting?â you finally asked.
Noah hesitated, fingers drawing patterns over your pants.
âNot everyone has the best upbringing,â he explained, voice tender. âThere are people born into shitty situations and they never receive the help or support they need. Life doesnât provide opportunities to them the way it does for some others, and after a while, the injustice of it all gets to be too much.â
He gave you an opportunity to respond, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
âMy parents were addicts. I think I already mentioned it. And I was born in a town where half the people donât make it to 18 without an addiction of some sort. Ruffilo and I were lucky to escape, but Iâve seen friends and families torn apart by drugs and crime. Iâve seen pregnant 14-year-old girls turn to prostitution to afford their drug habits. Do you know how hard that is to watch?â
You shook your head.
âIf God exists, how can I not be angry with him for allowing shit like that to happen?â
You were at a loss for words, humbled even in your hurt.
âI donât know what to say,â you whispered.
âYou donât have to say anything,â he said, squeezing your thighs with his hands. âI donât judge you for how you feel about God. But I do need you to accept that this part of me exists. And itâs not going anywhere. At least, not for a while.â
A couple more tears dripped from your lashes and landed on Noahâs hands. He didnât flinch away. Instead, he brought a thumb up to your cheekbones and wiped off the remaining wetness that clung to your lashes.
âLook. I donât know if I believe in God. But if he does exist, and heâs as loving as you say he is, I have to believe heâll forgive me for how I act in my anger. I think heâll understand why that anger is necessary for me to feel, and I donât think heâd punish me for it. If anything, I think heâd allow me to move through it for as long as I need. Or want me to, even, so that I can process it and eventually move on.â
As Noah spoke, something washed over you like a wave. A tension that had been growing inside of you for as long as you could remember began to release, and with it came a brand new understanding.
âNoah,â you whispered. âHave you ever thought about being a pastor?â
Noahâs face broke into a smile and he huffed out a breath of air that fanned out over your face. He smelled like stale beer and smoke, but there was another layer underneath that smelled vaguely sweet.
âThat is the weirdest thing youâve ever said to me.â
âNo, Iâm serious,â you said with a sniffle, and wiped away another tear. âYou know more about God than any church leader Iâve met.â
âI think sometimes itâs hard to see the bigger picture when youâre too close,â he whispered, face now much closer to yours. âI have the benefit of having stepped away.â
You were silent for a moment, digesting the conversation. You didnât want to talk about it anymore, but you werenât ready to go back and rejoin the party.
âCan I show you something Iâve been working on?â asked Noah.
âSure,â you said.
He kicked his feet into the floor and pushed back from where you were sitting, rolling across the floor and over to his desk. He fiddled with a few wires and switches before opening his laptop and pulling up a program.
âIâve had this melody in my head for a while,â he said, messing with some of the controls before hitting play. âI donât have any words yet, but I wanted to show you.â
A soft melody began playing through the speakers. Somber. Completely different from any of the songs youâd heard during their set.Â
âHow long have you been working on this?â you asked as the music played.
âA couple of weeks,â he said, not offering much more explanation.
He wouldnât meet your eye. Rather, he fidgeted with an auxiliary cable, twisting it around in his hands while simultaneously bouncing his legs up and down softly in time with the drums on the track.
The slow melody held out through the song, but the music grew in intensity, settling into a low-fi R&B vibe.
Seemingly growing restless, Noah spun back around in his chair to face you. He muttered something but you were unable to decipher it over the music.
âWhat?â you asked.
âIâve been experimenting with different styles,â he said, a little louder. âHoping to expand my skills.â
âI like this,â you said. âDefinitely more to my tastes.â
He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. âMetal isnât for everyone.â
âI see the appeal of it,â you said. âIâm sure it resonates with a lot of people, even if Iâm not one of them. Your band has a lot ofâŠuhâŠpassionate fans.â
The smile reached both sides of his mouth and he inched closer to you.
âWhat made you decide to come tonight?â he asked, and you knew it was important for you to be honest in that moment.
âI wanted to see you.â
Like a magnet to metal, Noah gravitated toward you again. There were no false pretenses for why. He wanted to be near you.
Resuming his position from earlier, he sat across from you, legs stretched out on either side of yours. He leaned back in his fancy office chair, and you mirrored him, sinking deeper into the couch.
You watched him watching you, scanning his features for any signals as to what was going on inside his head at that moment. The music played out through the speakers and neither of you made any efforts to fill space or silence. When the song reached its conclusion, it stopped automatically, and it was a while before anyone spoke.
âDoes it have a name?â you asked, breaking the silence.
âNot yet,â he said.
âItâs good. I donât have much music knowledge to say exactly what it is that I like about it, but I can tell I like it. Iâd be interested in seeing how it progresses.â
âGood,â he said, arms folded over his torso. He swiveled slightly from left to right, knees knocking into yours as he did.
You looked from your legs back up to his face and he met your gaze. Normally, youâd be the first one to break a silence like this, finding discomfort in the tension, but that night, you waited, wanting to see what Noah would do.
It took a long time for him to crack, but when he finally did, it was to ask you a question.
âDid you do what we talked about?â
You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to be more direct with his question.
ïżœïżœMasturbate?â The word held a slight choked sound, as if thereâd been an obstacle in his throat trying to get it out.
You nodded.
âHow was it?â
âItâŠwas.â
And that was the truth. Youâd made an attempt, but experienced a few difficulties. While you went into it with the intention of showing love to yourself without shame, getting rid of that shame was easier said than done.
For one, you couldnât imagine yourself agreeing to have sex without feeling guilty, which forced you to jump through several mental hoops involving being restrained and forced in order to feel like you had any sort of plausible deniability you could use should God choose that moment to judge you.
However, in doing that, you felt extremely guilty for engaging in that fantasy, because any real victim of sexual assault would not be thinking about it that way, and should you really be romanticizing that kind of thing? You ended up heavily judging yourself before God even had a chance to judge you.
âI ran into someâŠdifficulties.â
âMentally or physically?â he asked, left thigh pressed up against your right.
âI think mental.â
âIâm sorry to hear that,â he said. âDo you want to talk about it?â
You sighed. âYeah, kind of. But donât judge me, okay?â
âIf you pictured Isaac, Iâm going to have to judge you.â
You shook your head. âI didnât picture Isaac.â
âGood. Who did you picture?â
âNobody,â you lied. âJust some nameless, faceless person.â
Up until that point, the conversation had flowed quickly like a game of table tennis, but the lie threw off the rhythm. Noah wasnât satisfied. He allowed you to get away with it and didnât press you on it, but now it was his turn for something.
He leaned forward, hands resuming their place on your knees, and looked at you as if he dared you to protest.
You didnât.
âWhat difficulties did you have?â
You hesitated. He dug his thumbnail into your thigh.
âI had to imagine myself being forced.â
âForced?â His hands stilled.
âLike tied up.â
His eyebrow quirked upward. His gaze dropped to where your hands rested in your lap. Sliding his hands up your legs, he encircled your wrists in his long fingers and turned them so they faced upwards, palms open to the sky as if in praise. He kept a tight hold while his eyes flicked briefly back up to meet yours.
Noah was playing a game of chicken. Seeing how far he could push you until you cracked.
âItâs a common fantasy,â he said, voice low and breathy. âMakes sense.â
âYou donât think itâs messed up?â
Noah rubbed his thumbs along the inside of your wrists, stopping every once in a while to apply pressure to different points. He stared at them while he spoke.
âI try not to judge myself for my fantasies. As long as thereâs consent, thereâs nothing to be ashamed about.â
âYou donât think that itâs disrespectful to people who have been forced in real life?â
He sucked on the inside of his cheek and released it with a clicking sound before taking a deep breath. âMany survivors actually find healing through engaging in that kink.âÂ
âItâs hard to imagine myself consenting without the guilt creeping in.â
Noah nodded. âUnderstandable. Youâll give it when youâre ready.â
You closed your eyes and indulged in the pressure he put on your wrists. Your skin ignited under his touch, the same way it had when his fingers had brushed the back of your neck all those weeks ago. He trailed his fingers along your palms and your hands closed reflexively around them.
âIs that something you think youâd be into in real life?â he asked. You could hear the shuffling of movement, but didnât open your eyes. Your fingers continued to dance together with his.
âHard to say,â you said. âIâll cross that bridge when I come to it.â
âWhatâs this?â he asked, finding the silver ring on your left ring finger.
âPromise ring,â you answered.
âLike an engagement ring?â he asked.
âA symbol of a promise to God to stay pure until marriage.â His hands stilled. âWe all got one in school.â
Noah pinched the ring between his two fingers.
âIs that something youâre still committed to?â
âI donât know,â you said. âI donât know what I believe anymore.â
You opened your eyes to look at Noah, who had vacated his chair and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you.
Holding eye contact, he began to slide the ring up your finger.
âWhat are you doing?â you asked.
âJust let me try something.â He removed the ring, sticking it in his back pocket for safe keeping. âHow does that feel?â
âLight.â
The ring was soldi metal. It weighed heavy on your hand and the absence of it wasnât unwelcome. This was the first time youâd taken it off since first receiving it. It was both taboo and invigorating.
âWhen did you make that promise?â
âWhen I was thirteen.â
âBefore you even knew what sexuality was?â
You nodded.
âHow cruel,â he said, dropping his hands back to your knees and prying them open so he could wedge his body between them. âBinding yourself to a promise you made before you even knew what you were promising.â
âThatâs a little dramatic, donât you think?â you said, trying not to blush. Noahâs body between your legs was a brand new sensation that left you feeling like your entire lower half was engulfed flames.
His greedy hands migrated to the backs of your knees and he tugged you forward on the couch so your faces were mere inches apart. His breath ghosted across your neck.
Your composure began to crack, breath speeding up, and you hoped he couldnât tell. Saliva pooled on your tongue. You found yourself unable to look anywhere but his bottom lip, wondering how it would taste. How it would feel between your teeth.
Noah had grown bolder with every move you let him get away with. Any moment, heâd move in for the kill.
âYou donât owe your body to anyone,â he said. âNot even to God.â
âGod gave me this body,â you countered.
âYeah. He did. Itâs yours to take care of. Bodies have needs.â
âAnd you think youâre the one to meet those needs, Noah?â
His fingers clutched hungrily at your thighs. âI could be.â
His tongue poked out to wet his lips. Heâd been building towards this conclusion the whole evening, and now it was time for him to make his move. Noah was going to kiss you.
Two things happened simultaneously. Noah tugged you closer, and in his movement, the shiny black horns on the top of his head caught the light and drew your eye to them.
Your gut clenched.
Not yet.Â
âI shouldâ,â you began a second too late. Noahâs mouth collided with your jaw, and as soon as it registered in his mind, he jumped back as if heâd been burned. âI should, um,â you cleared your throat, âgo check on Ava. Sheâs never drank before. Wouldnât want her doing anything sheâd regret.â
He sat back on his heels, hand coming up to wipe at something on the back of his neck. âYeah,â he said. âOf course.â His dejection was evident in his voice and the way he wouldnât meet your eyes.
âSee you Saturday?â you asked, standing up.
âSure,â he said, blinking up at the ceiling. The defeated slump of his shoulders was what fully broke you. With one last look of apology, you unlocked the door and slipped out. Halfway across the yard, you heard a banging sound from the shed, as if something had been kicked.
You rushed inside to find Ava.
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#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fic#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfiction#Noah Sebastian#noah sebastian smut#sorry Noah Sebastian
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hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 𫶠i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love đ€
i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u đđđ
Unusual affection
thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3
word count; 1353 â gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive
You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didnât give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.
So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasnât exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long becauseâŠ
that is one gorgeous man!
âYou need to floss more regularly,â he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldnât see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.
âIâm not really a dancer but Iâll try,â Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. Thatâs like something Makki would say, he thought. And thatâs not a compliment.
âHow old are you, 10?â he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldnât have an attitude with customers.
âSome would say Iâm a 10 out of 10!â you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.
He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?
Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. âOpen.â Wouldnât mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. âYour wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?â he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.
You thought about it, humming in thought. âYes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.â
âWe can set up another appointment to get them removed,â he informed you. âIt should be mostly covered by insurance if I say itâs necessary.â
You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. âWillâŠâ he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. ââŠyou be doing that?â
A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. âThat could be arranged.â
Two weeks later, youâre back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didnât have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldnât feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.
Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. âHey there, little dancer.â he greeted you.
âHi!â you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldnât feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.
âIt might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?â he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.
You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. âYes, I got it.â You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. âMy safeword is toothbrush.â
Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. âGood to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.â he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasnât very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.
The procedure didnât take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you werenât even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.
Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldnât have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldnât have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldnât have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, thatâs what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.
âEverything alright there, doc?â you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.
âNo worries, I was just-â he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. âDo you like pasta?â
Your jaw loosened in disbelief. âPasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?â you asked a bit awkwardly.
âThereâs this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,â he said. âWith me, I mean.â
Oikawaâs penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.
Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you werenât kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. âThis is a bit unusual, donât you think?â you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.
âYouâre a bit unusual, but here we are,â he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. âI knew the electric toothbrush would help.â
Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which youâd say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. âYou truly are a genius, Tooru.â you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.
âMaybe Iâm such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,â he said, and it shouldnât work. It shouldnât be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.
Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.
masterlist
#ask-mp4#hq#haikyuu#haikyu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#hq oikawa#oikawa toru#oikawa
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