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kiwriteswords · 22 days ago

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Do you believe in life after love? [Aaron Hotchner x Haley's Best Friend!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 7.6k|| AN: I teased this story like...months ago, yet here we are now. Sorry for the wait! I hope it was worth it?

Tags/Warnings: female reader, mentions of Haley Hotchner, spoiler to Haley Hotchner's fate, canon-typical themes, non-BAU!Reader, Reader is Haley's best friend, reconnection, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of Jack Hotchner, love after loss, potential for a part 2.

Summary: Years after Haley Hotchner's passing, Hotchner reunites with you, Haley's best friend, at Jessica's party. He never imagined the shared understanding of loss, love, and life would be within the comfort of your arms.

At Jessica's home, children's laughter sliced through the air. Aaron Hotchner stood slightly apart from the clusters of Brooks' family and friends, his gaze anchored by the sight of his son, Jack, who was cheerfully navigating the throng of party-goers.

Jack’s laughter, free and unabashed, was a balm to the ever-present ache in Aaron’s chest. An ache carved from years of accumulated loss and duty.

You arrived quietly, almost slipping into the backyard unnoticed, save for a single moment when your eyes found Aaron’s across the space.

It was as if the years peeled back in a sharp, sudden tug at his memory. You looked just as surprised to see him, your expression treading a line between joy and a sorrow that mirrored his own.

The last time Aaron had seen you was at Haley’s funeral, a day when grief had rendered him nearly unrecognizable to himself, a shadow amid the stark reality of his loss. A day that altered his life forever, yet still felt so fresh. So far away. So much all at once.

“Aaron?” Jessica’s voice was soft, but it sliced through his reverie like a delicate knife. She gestured to you, “You remember, right? Haley’s best friend.”

Of course, he remembered. How could he not? The friendship you shared with Haley had been a tapestry of confidences and laughter, woven into the fabric of their lives.

Now, as you approached, the years collapsed into a single, acute moment of nostalgia and what-ifs.

“Hello, Aaron,” you said, your voice a gentle echo of a past that once seemed filled with endless possibilities. Your smile was tentative as if you were reaching across a chasm not just of time but of all the words left unsaid since then.

He managed to breathe your name, his voice rough with emotions held too tightly in check. “It’s been a long time,” He paused, “Too long.”

The party buzzed around you both, a tableau of normalcy that felt oddly jarring. Jack ran up then, grabbing Aaron’s hand with a sticky one, his face alight with the simple joy of a child at a Aaron’s eyes softened as he looked down at his son, the spitting image of joy and innocence. “In a minute, buddy.” He promised, ruffling Jack’s hair before turning back to you. You were watching Jack with an affection that spoke volumes, reconnecting Aaron not just to the present but to all the might-have-beens.

“He’s wonderful, Aaron. Just like you,” you murmured, and the compliment lodged in his throat, thick and hard to swallow.

“Thanks,” he managed quietly, the words strained as he tried to dislodge the tightness in his throat. “Haley would have loved this—seeing him so happy.”

Your eyes met his again, and he saw in them a reflection of his own pain. A shared sorrow for the life and friend you both missed. “She would have,” you agreed, your voice a mere whisper amidst the surrounding noise.

The compliment knotted in his throat, thick and hard to swallow. He often found similarities between himself and his son. Oftentimes, it was a cruel mirror into his own personality--stubborn at times, strong-willed, orderly. Then, there were times when Jack was all Haley. With a quick whip response and those eyes, Aaron often felt he was back in a room with a young Haley Brooks.

As the afternoon shadows grew longer, casting a golden, melancholic light over the yard, Aaron found himself drawn into the easy rhythm of your conversation. It was as if each word you spoke was a thread, reconnecting him to a world he had thought permanently severed from him.

There was a time when you had been so intertwined into his personal life that you were, without question, always there. Birthdays, holidays, and random occasions from high school until the divorce, you were Haley’s right hand.

You talked of your travels, your career, the life you had built—a life impressive and full yet tinged with an undercurrent of solitude that Aaron understood all too well.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” Aaron said, his words not just an observation but a quiet acknowledgment of the sacrifices such a life demanded

You shrugged, a graceful tilt of your head that belied the depth of your reflection. “I’ve tried. It’s not quite what I imagined when we were all planning our futures, but…” You paused, searching for the right words. “But it’s full of chapters worth reading, even the sad ones.”

The simplicity of your metaphor struck him, the poetry of it winding through his thoughts like a vine. “I think that’s all we can ask for,” he replied, the sound of children playing a distant, sweet symphony. “Chapters worth reading.”

As the party dwindled and the evening chill settled in, Aaron felt the weight of the day begin to lift, feather-light, as if your presence had somehow begun to ease the burden he carried. Watching Jack wave goodbye to you, he realized that perhaps what he needed was not to forget, but to remember—to reconnect with those who could speak Haley’s name and share in the beauty and pain of her memory.

“Would you like to meet for coffee sometime?” Aaron asked as you were about to leave, the question an olive branch extended into the dimming light of the day.

Your smile in response was soft, yet it held the warmth of a thousand sunlit mornings. “I’d like that,” you said. And as you walked away, Aaron watched, a sense of peace settling around him like a promise, whispering of new beginnings formed from the fragments of past lives.

Not long after, the coffee shop was a quiet haven from the bustling city outside, a small universe encapsulated by the scent of freshly ground beans and the soft murmur of other patrons lost in their own worlds. Aaron Hotchner sat across from you, his fingers wrapped around a steaming cup, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before skirting away, as if direct contact might unravel him completely.

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, the clink of the spoon against the ceramic cup punctuating the silence that had settled between you. The conversation had started easily enough—casual updates on life, work, mutual acquaintances—but now it meandered, lost, avoiding the one subject that linked you irreparably to one another. Haley Brooks Hotcner.

Aaron thought back to a hallucination he'd had of Haley when unconscious, “He’s not like you, Aaron. He needs words.”

That memory now echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of his limitations.

He watched you now, your expression thoughtful, your gaze occasionally flitting to the window as if the answers might be found in the passersby or the fall of rain against the glass. It was clear you felt it too--the weight of the unspoken, the shadow of a shared loss that was as much a part of you as your own heartbeat.

“You know, I sometimes think I’ve spent more time with ghosts than with the living,” Aaron said suddenly, his voice low, his words cutting through the noise of the shop. It was as if he couldn’t bear the silence any longer, the distance it created.

Your eyes snapped back to his, a flash of surprise there before it settled into a deep, understanding sadness. “Me too,” you confessed, the admission hanging between you, heavy and palpable. “I think that’s why I bury myself in work. If I’m always moving, maybe I won’t notice how much I miss her.”

Aaron nodded, the ghost of a smile touching his lips, not in amusement but in recognition. “I see her sometimes in Jack. In the way he laughs or the expressions he makes when he’s lost in thought. It’s both wonderful and…and heartbreaking.”

You reached across the table, your hand hovering over his for a moment before making contact. The warmth of your touch was a stark contrast to the coolness of his own skin. “She’d be proud of him, Aaron. Of you, too.”

The simplicity of your words was a balm to his frayed edges. Here, in this quiet coffee shop, you offered him a reflection of himself not as a failure or a broken man but as someone enduring, someone still capable of being seen as good in the eyes of another.

Then, there was this bitter taste in his mouth. Something deep within him could not agree with this, knowing, in part, he was at fault for his late wife’s death.

“I’ve been trying to keep her memory alive for him, but it’s hard,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s getting older, and I’m afraid he’s starting to forget her.”

“You’re doing your best, Aaron. That’s all she would have wanted,” you said, squeezing his hand gently before pulling back. “And maybe it’s okay to let the memories shift a bit, as long as we keep the essence of her in our lives. We remember her, not just by reliving the past but by living our lives fully because that’s what she would have wanted.”

Aaron let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was a certain poetry in your words, a gentle reminder that life, like a river, was constantly moving, reshaping the landscape of memory with gentle, persistent currents.

“You always were the wise one,” he said, a genuine smile breaking through the clouds of his demeanor for the first time since you’d sat down.

“And you always pretended to listen,” you teased back, the familiar banter a light in the dimness of the past hour.

As you both laughed, the weight of the conversation didn’t lessen, but it seemed, for the moment, more bearable.

Aaron realized then that healing might not come from forgetting or even from remembering but from allowing those who understood the depth of your pain to walk beside you, even if the path was one of heartache and recovery.

With you, he didn’t need to navigate his grief alone, and perhaps, in this shared journey, there was a kind of solace to be found.

Coffee had gone so well--felt so well, you invited Aaron and Jack over for dinner one night. When both of your busy schedules aligned, it felt right to spend a night off with each other.

The evening light spilled golden and warm across your dining room, transforming the ordinary into something akin to a painting—one of those still life canvases where every detail felt intentional, every shadow perfectly placed.

You had prepared dinner, the aroma of seasoned herbs and roasted vegetables filling the air with an inviting scent, while Aaron and Jack had arrived with dessert in tow—double chocolate cupcakes, recalling your well-known fondness for anything cocoa.

Jack had quickly found solace in the corner of the living room, building fortresses from old blocks and the occasional shout of triumph drifting into the kitchen. It left Aaron and you in the quiet bubble of the kitchen, a space that seemed to encourage confidences as naturally as it welcomed the warmth from the oven.

As you both set the table, a rhythm developed between you, a dance of old friends comfortable in each other’s orbit. The initial awkwardness that might have clung to the edges of the evening fell away, piece by piece, as you began to share stories of the past, laughter mingling with the clink of dishes and the soft background hum of the refrigerator.

“I still remember when Haley tried to bake that cake for my thirtieth birthday,” Aaron said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the memory. It was as if this once suppressed memory was at the forefront of his mind--fresh, as if it were just yesterday. “She was so determined it would be perfect.”

You laughed, the sound bright and clear. “It was perfect, if you were aiming for something resembling a volcanic eruption. I think we found frosting on the ceiling for weeks afterward.”

Aaron’s laugh joined yours, a sound that felt like it was pulled from a deeper place than he’d visited in a long time. “She was always so ambitious in the kitchen. Never quite had the timing down, though.”

The ease with which Haley’s name came up in conversation surprised him; there was no tightening in his chest, no swift detour to safer topics. Here, with you, it felt natural, a sharing of joy rather than a reopening of wounds.

“You know, she used to say the same about you and dancing,” you teased, nudging him gently with your elbow as you passed him a stack of plates.

“That’s slander,” Aaron protested, but the grin on his face belied his words. “I’ll have you know I’ve improved considerably since then.”

“Is that so?” You raised an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Dinner passed in a similar vein, with Jack occasionally chiming in with the earnestness only a child could muster, his stories and questions weaving through the fabric of the conversation, adding his own threads to the tapestry of the evening.

As Jack eventually excused himself, retreating back to his makeshift fortress with a cupcake clutched triumphantly in his hand, you and Aaron lingered at the table, the remnants of dinner before you, the room dimming as the sun set beyond the window.

“It feels good, you know,” Aaron said after a moment, his voice soft, reflective. “Talking about her like this. I didn’t realize how much I missed just… remembering her with someone who knew her as well as I did.”

You reached across the table, your hand brushing against his. “Haley was... iis a part of us. We carry her in our stories, Aaron. It’s okay to smile when we speak her name.”

The profound simplicity of your words settled around him, a gentle embrace. It wasn’t about moving on from Haley, but rather allowing her memory to live in moments of joy and shared laughter, not just in silent reverence.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but laden with an earnestness that filled the space between you. “For this, for dinner, for the laughter… it means more than you know.”

The candles flickered low, casting dancing shadows across the table, across your faces. In this light, with the remnants of a meal shared between friends, and the laughter of his son echoing from the other room, Aaron felt a shift. A loosening of the tight bands around his chest, a breath of air fresher than he’d dared to breathe in a long time.

You smiled, a soft, knowing curve of your lips. “Anytime, Aaron. We’re not just bound by our past, but by how we choose to remember it and who we choose to share it with.”

And as the evening wore on, the darkness outside encroaching upon the windows, there was a sense of peace, of something akin to healing. Here, in this place, with you, the ghosts of the past felt less like specters and more like guardians, their presence a comfort rather than a chain.

Haley didn’t feel so far away anymore.

In the weeks following the dinner at your place, Aaron and you carved out moments from your relentlessly demanding schedules to spend time together. These moments were rare gems, sometimes including Jack, sometimes not--opportunities for you two to breathe a little easier.

While Aaron navigated the complexities of running the BAU, you wrestled with the responsibilities of steering a major corporation. The windows of time you both found were brief, yet they were filled with the kind of mutual understanding and ease that Aaron was beginning to realize he found nowhere else.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case that had taken Aaron across state lines and a day that had seen you in back-to-back meetings, you both found yourselves seeking solace in the quiet corner of a familiar bar, the kind of place where the lighting was dim enough to forget the outside world for a few hours.

You were both nursing drinks, the ice clinking softly against the glass in a slow, rhythmic melody. The conversation drifted naturally to the past, to shared memories of Haley, which used to be a field of landmines but now felt more like a sanctuary.

“I remember missing your birthday party when I first got promoted to unit chief,” Aaron said, a hint of old regret coloring his tone. He glanced at you, expecting perhaps a shadow of the old disappointment, but found only understanding.

You laughed softly, the sound gentle and forgiving. “Haley told me about that fight you two had. It was one of the first times she really got mad about your job, wasn’t it?”

He winced at the memory, nodding. “It was, the beginning of…the beginning of many. I hated missing it, but there was a case…there’s always a case…”

“I know,” you said, your voice a mixture of empathy and amusement. “I felt like such a hypocrite back then, trying to support her but secretly getting where you were coming from. I told her more than once, ‘You knew who you were marrying.’”

Aaron looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “And yet, here we are, both slaves to our work.”

You raised your glass in a mock salute. “Guilty as charged. But you know, you always had that drive, even back in school. Always the one aiming to be the best, even if it meant sacrificing a few parties.”

He couldn’t help but smile genuinely at that, the familiarity of your teasing a comfort in itself. “Guess some things don’t change,” he admitted. The warmth in your eyes told him you didn’t really mind that part of him—at least, not anymore.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try to find a better balance now,” you suggested, your tone light but serious. It was an invitation, he realized, to keep creating moments like these despite the chaos of their lives.

Aaron nodded, feeling the weight of the day begin to lift slightly at the prospect. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” You smiled.

The conversation drifted then to lighter topics, but a new understanding hung between you two, a silent acknowledgment of past hardships and a mutual commitment to do better in the future.

And as the night wore on, the two of you shared more stories, more laughs, each moment weaving a new layer into the fabric of your rekindling relationship.

It was these threads, spun from old and new yarn alike, that began to form a picture neither of you had anticipated—one richer and more colorful than either of your solitary lives.

And as Aaron walked you to your car later that evening, the chill of the night air couldn’t compete with the warmth he felt inside. It was a warmth that came from shared histories, from understanding, from the possibility of a future where both could maybe, finally, find a balance.

The next time you met up, in the sprawling park where you had decided to spend the afternoon, Jack was a small figure of boundless energy, darting between trees and playground structures with the uninhibited joy that only a child could harness. Aaron and you sat on a nearby bench, an island of calm observance in the sea of laughter and distant shouts.

Casually, almost as if the question had been carried to him on the gentle breeze, Aaron turned to you. "Did you ever think about settling down?"

His voice was soft, careful, not wanting to disturb the ease of the afternoon. Looking around, he wondered if this was a life you ever wanted for yourself.

You watched Jack for a moment, considering the question. The answer felt weighted, more substantial in his presence. "It was hard," you began, your eyes still following Jack's movements. "I just never found the one who could understand me, you know?"

There was a pause, the kind filled with the rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds. Then you turned to him, your gaze thoughtful. "What about you, Aaron? Did you ever think about putting yourself out there again after Haley?"

He followed your gaze back to Jack, a soft sigh escaping him. "I tried once—with someone named Beth. But the timing was never right." Aaron’s words hung briefly in the air. "I found it hard to open up about Haley. It was like this... elephant in the room with her."

Your response was gentle, tinged with understanding. "It doesn’t feel like the elephant in the room when we talk, does it?" The simplicity of your observation struck a chord within him. You continued, "Haley was my best friend. Losing her, I became so closed off.” You let out a breath of frustration with yourself, “I understand you, Aaron. Maybe not in the same way, but…but I do get it."

He nodded, the autumn sunlight catching in his eyes, lending them a momentary sparkle. "With you, I can talk about Haley without the pain overwhelming me. And I don’t feel the need to hide that pain to protect you because... because you miss her just the same."

It was true; with you, Haley’s memory was a shared space, filled with both joy and sorrow, where neither had to tread lightly. Aaron felt a sense of relief, a loosening of a knot inside him that he hadn’t even realized was there until now.

"You know," Aaron started, turning to look at you fully. "It's strange, but talking to you about her, about everything really, it makes me feel like I'm not just living in the past, but that I'm actually moving forward."

Your smile then was like a warm blanket, comforting and inviting. "That’s because we are moving forward, Aaron. We’re carrying her with us, not letting her drag us back."

You reached for his hand on his lap then, covering it with your own. It was like instinct for him to turn his hand and hold yours. Neither of you pointed it out or moved, but sat there intertwined.

Jack's laughter broke through the seriousness of your conversation, pulling both your attention back to the present. Watching him play, a symbol of life's relentless march forward, seemed to underline your words.

Aaron felt a profound gratitude then, not just for your presence, which had become a steady beacon in his recent life, but for the peace that came with it…a peace that allowed him to look at the future with a sense of hope, rather than just duty.

Then again, life happens and Aaron Hotchner was far from the perfect person. He clung to old habits like a lifeline, and compartmentalizing was one of them.

It was only days later, when Aaron picked up the phone, his voice was flat, the edges sharp with fatigue. "I think I need to cancel our coffee today," he said, each word heavier than the last. The recent case had dredged up memories best left buried, memories of a mother's tragic end and a child hiding just a room away—echoes of his own past horrors with Haley and Jack.

On the other end of the line, your intuition cut through his attempted nonchalance. "Aaron, you're self-isolating again. It's not good for you," you countered, your voice firm yet laced with concern. "You've always been your own worst enemy in these moments."

He sighed, a sound that spoke of battles fought silently within. "I just need some time—"

"No," you interjected, the decision clear in your tone. "I'm coming over. Don’t argue with me."

Moments later, you were at his door. A tray with two coffees in one hand, still in your crisp business attire, a stark contrast to Aaron's disheveled appearance. He looked worn, like a book left out in the rain, pages wrinkled and ink run. He opened the door with a look that was less than amused but resigned, knowing better than to argue with you.

Without waiting for an invitation, you stepped inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click that seemed to seal off the outside world. You reached for his hand, his skin cool and slightly rough, pulling him gently but with undeniable resolve toward the couch.

Placing the coffee tray on the table, Hotch noticed one cup marked just how he liked his, the other…just how you took yours.

"Talk to me," you urged as you both sat down, your presence a grounding force.

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on his hands. The silence stretched, thin and taut, until it was filled with his deep, uneven breaths. "It was a mother," he began, the words catching slightly. "Killed while her child hid in the next room. I couldn't stop thinking about—about Haley. And Jack." His voice was a raw whisper, stripped of the usual composure.

You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing against his, a silent signal of support. "It’s okay to feel this, Aaron. It’s human. And it’s okay to talk about it, especially with me."

Aaron looked at you then, his brown eyes searching yours for something like absolution. "Every time it feels like I'm back there again. Not just remembering, but reliving it. I’m supposed to be past this."

"Being past it doesn't mean forgetting, Aaron. It doesn’t mean you won’t ever feel it again," you said softly. "It means you learn how to carry it with you without letting it pull you under. And you let people help carry it with you."

He absorbed your words, the tension in him unwinding slightly. "It’s hard. I always think I need to protect everyone—from the job, from my past. From myself."

"But you don’t need to protect me," you reassured him, your hand finding his, fingers intertwining naturally. "Not from this. I knew Haley, too. I lost her as well. And I know you."

That connection, the shared past and understanding, seemed to reach him, soothing the rough edges of his pain. "Thank you," he said after a long pause, his voice steadier. "For not letting me push you away."

"As if you could," you replied with a gentle smile, the kind that warmed him from the inside out, making the shadows in his mind recede just a bit.

As the silence settled between you and Aaron, thick with shared understanding and newly voiced fears, something shifted perceptibly in the atmosphere. He glanced at you, seeing not just the friend he had known for years, but a beacon in the often tumultuous storm of his life. Your presence, always reassuring, seemed especially vital today.

"Thank you," he murmured again, the words inadequate for the gratitude swirling within him. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Aaron opened his arms—an invitation rather than an imposition. You didn’t hesitate; you leaned into him, and he enveloped you in an embrace.

It was a simple hug, initially meant to be a brief comfort, but the moment your arms wrapped around him, something profound stirred in Aaron’s chest. How long had it been since he received this level of comfort?

The warmth from your body, the gentle pressure of your arms around him, it was grounding, a tangible reminder that he wasn’t alone. His own arms tightened slightly, pulling you closer, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to just feel.

The sensation was unexpectedly healing. Here, in this quiet embrace, the world’s demands faded to a distant murmur. Aaron’s breaths deepened, syncing with yours, and a sense of calm spread through him. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself the simple comfort of a heartfelt hug--it was a balm to the lingering ache of old scars, a reminder that physical closeness could bridge the gaps words sometimes couldn’t.

He realized, perhaps for the first time, how starved he had been for this kind of simple, human connection. With you, it felt right, unforced, and incredibly soothing.

The hug spoke of mutual losses and mutual support, a physical manifestation of the emotional scaffolding you had built together over your recent conversations.

As you finally pulled back, there was a softness in his gaze, a thankfulness. "I needed that more than I knew," Aaron confessed, his voice a low rumble that resonated with newfound clarity.

"You're not alone, Aaron," you reiterated, your hand squeezing his arm reassuringly. "You don’t have to carry everything by yourself."

That moment, that hug, marked a turning point for him. In the simplicity of that gesture, Aaron found a profound truth—the strength of vulnerability, the courage found in sharing one's burdens. And perhaps most importantly, he recognized the potential for healing, for moving forward not just in solitude, but alongside someone who understood the deepest shadows of his past.

From there, the foundation for something deeper than friendship began to solidify, each shared touch and word laying down another stone.

The following weekend, on a crisp Saturday afternoon, Aaron found himself at a local park. You were there too, a serene figure seated on a bench, a book forgotten in your lap as you watched Jack spiritedly kick a soccer ball across the grass. The scene was bathed in soft, gentle sunlight, turning mundane moments into something akin to a painted landscape.

As Aaron approached, your face lit up with a genuine smile, the kind that reached your eyes and tugged at something deep within him—a realization that moments like these had become the highlights of his week.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice carrying a warmth reserved just for these occasions.

“Hi, Aaron,” you responded, your attention shifting fully to him. Jack noticed his arrival, too and ran over, his face flushed with the exertion and excitement. After a quick hug and a rundown of his self-proclaimed spectacular goals, Jack returned to his game, leaving you and Aaron in a comfortable solitude.

Sitting beside you, Aaron felt an ease settle around him, the kind that only your presence could bring. The park around them buzzed with life, children’s laughter piercing through the air like music notes, but on your shared bench, there was a bubble of peaceful quiet.

“It’s beautiful today,” you commented, gesturing subtly at the scenery around you.

“It is,” Aaron agreed, but his eyes were on you, appreciating the way the sunlight danced across your features. The scene was idyllic, almost painfully so, highlighting what life could be—what he wanted it to be. And as he watched you, a thought crystallized in his mind, clear and urgent in its sudden appearance.

He turned to you fully, his expression contemplative, the lines of duty and years softening in the tranquil park setting.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Aaron began, his voice carrying a weight that hinted at the gravity of his thoughts. His eyes met yours, seeking a sign of readiness for the words he was about to share.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue, your own expression a mirror of openness and quiet support.

“It’s about us. How we’ve…we have been spending more time together. It’s made a significant difference, at least for me. For Jack, too, I know that,” he said, his gaze drifting to where Jack was playing before settling back on you. “I find myself looking forward to our moments together... more than I anticipated.”

The admission hung in the air, tender and formidable. You took a deep breath, visibly moved by his honesty. “Aaron, I feel the same,” you replied softly. “There’s a comfort with you, a familiarity that doesn’t just stem from knowing each other as awkward teenagers.”

Aaron’s heart thudded with a mix of relief and burgeoning joy. This was the confirmation he needed, yet he proceeded with caution, aware of the delicate threads of a new beginning being woven between them.

Following the conversation in the park, the meetups, phone calls, and comfort continued as usual. The new normal. A normal neither of you could do without.

In the soft glow of the BAU’s late evening lights, Aaron Hotchner was hastily packing up his things, his movements brisk and somewhat scattered.

A rare sight for someone usually so composed. His briefcase snapped shut, a sound crisp in the quiet of the near-empty office. As he stood to leave, Rossi, ever observant, stood in the doorway of his office and raised an eyebrow.

“Got a hot date or something?” Rossi’s tone was teasing, but his eyes were sharp, missing nothing.

“No, just dinner with a friend,” Aaron replied, adjusting his tie out of habit more than necessity. “La Vie?” Aaron listed off the restaurant, knowing the foodie in Rossi would ask that next.

Rossi chuckled, leaning against the doorway. “That’s a pretty fancy restaurant for just a friend, isn’t it?”

Aaron paused, a slight flush creeping up his neck. “No? We're just catching up. The food is supposed to be good there?”

“Is this friend a woman?” Rossi prodded, his interest piqued, ignoring Aaron’s not-so-subtle change in direction.

“Yes, but--”

“Haley’s best friend?” Rossi interrupted, putting pieces together in the way only a seasoned profiler could. “The one you’ve reconnected with?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Aaron’s response was guarded, his FBI training kicking in despite the personal nature of the conversation.

Rossi studied him for a moment, then pushed forward off the doorway, standing straighter. “Is she single?”

Aaron frowned, not following Rossi’s line of questioning. “Dave, why does that matter?”

Rossi sighed, a knowing look in his eyes. “Come on, Aaron. Haven’t you ever thought about more with her? More than just comfort and reminiscing?”

The question caught Aaron off guard. He hesitated, the answer unclear even to himself. It was a possibility he hadn’t allowed himself to fully consider, not yet, maybe not ever. Sure, he knew for a fact, especially after your talk in the park over the weekend that it wasn’t an option to go on without each other’s presence anymore. The gap that had been open for so long had finally been filled by each other’s company. But more?

Rossi, watching the conflict play across Aaron’s features, pressed on, “Is she cute?”

The answer came a little too quickly, a little too sharply. “Yes.” Immediately, Aaron felt a pang of guilt wash over him. This was Haley’s best friend, he chided himself internally.

Rossi noticed the change instantly. “Aaron, listen to me,” he said gently, the tone of a friend rather than a colleague. “You’re not betraying Haley by acknowledging that her friend is attractive or by enjoying her company. It’s been years, my friend. It’s okay to live, to feel, to find happiness again.”

Aaron remained silent, absorbing Rossi’s words. They weren’t just a permission slip; they were a gentle push towards acknowledging a truth he had buried under layers of duty and self-denial.

“You’re not going to war with yourself here,” Rossi added, standing up and clapping a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “You’re just considering the possibility of happiness. That’s not just allowed; it’s recommended.”

The simplicity of Rossi’s advice, devoid of any professional jargon, was like a light piercing through the fog that had settled around Aaron’s heart.

As he left the office, stepping into the cool night air, his steps felt lighter. He was headed to dinner, not as an obligation, but as a possibility, a chance to explore what might be if he allowed himself just to live in the moment.

Life continued to move fast, but the knowing support was a comfort that Aaron never wanted to take for grated. Throughout the dinners, the coffee, the drinks, the time spent in each of your lives, Aaron’s mind went back to the conversation Rossi proposed. Like most things, Aaron pocketed it for another time.

The air in the Hotchner apartment was alive with the electronic beeps and laughter of children, the walls decorated with colorful banners that mimicked video game screens. Jack, the birthday boy, was in high spirits, buoyed by the excitement of his friends and the attentive care of you currently helping him set up a new game, one he had been gifted today.

As Hotch cleared away the last of the birthday cake--chocolate with vibrant blue icing--Jessica approached him, wiping her hands on a napkin. "You both seem really happy together," she commented casually, observing how you interacted with Jack.

Hotch froze for a moment, a spoonful of cake halfway to the trash bin, feeling as though he'd been caught in an act he hadn't even defined yet. Jessica noticed his reaction and laughed softly, her familiarity with his expressions as clear as day. "Aaron, you're allowed to be happy, you know. Haley would want that for you, and I think she’d be thrilled it's with someone she loved."

"It’s not like that," Aaron responded quickly, a reflex born of years of self-imposed boundaries. He resumed cleaning, his movements a bit more forceful than necessary.

Jessica leaned against the counter, her eyes kind but piercing. "Why couldn't it be like that?" she pressed gently. "You guys could really benefit from letting yourselves get to that place. Think about it."

The conversation paused as you approached, having successfully launched the game for an excited group of kids. Aaron's heart was still racing from Jessica's implications, his mind a swirl of what-ifs and could-bes.

"What did I miss?" you asked, a hint of curiosity lifting your brows as you noticed the serious look between Jessica and Aaron. Aaron watched as you looked between him and Jessica, your brain working quickly to decipher a clear missing scene.

Jessica smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Just giving this guy some much-needed advice. Think about it, Aaron!" She tapped her temple playfully before walking off to help corral some of the more energetic party-goers.

"Later," Hotch muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to catch.

"Later?" you echoed, your tone light but probing.

Hotch managed a small, somewhat tense smile. "Yeah, something Jessica said. We can talk about it later."

As you nodded, slightly puzzled but undeterred, Hotch's gaze lingered on you a moment longer than usual. The way the light played across your face, the way your laughter seemed to stitch itself into the fabric of his home. It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny how integral you had become to his and Jack's lives.

The rest of the party passed in a blur of games, laughter, and fleeting glances. Aaron found himself watching you more often, seeing not just the friend who had supported him through dark times but a possible future filled with light and shared smiles. Jessica’s words echoed in his mind, a gentle nudge toward a door he hadn’t allowed himself to open. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to consider what lay on the other side.

After the cheerful chaos of Jack’s birthday party dwindled and the last of the guests departed, the apartment settled into a serene quiet. Jack, overwhelmed by the day’s excitement and a substantial sugar intake, had fallen asleep on the couch. Aaron gently scooped him up, carrying him to his bedroom, tucking him in with the tender care that defined his fatherhood.

When Aaron returned to the living room, he found you still there, lingering with a contemplative air. The quiet of the apartment wrapped around you both like a soft shroud, a stark contrast to the day's earlier jubilance.

Aaron’s mind replayed the conversations with Rossi and Jessica, their words about potential and happiness echoing loudly in the calm. He knew it was time to address the unspoken questions that hung between you. He owed it to himself at the very least.

“You know,” Aaron began, his voice low as he sat down across from you, “My coworker, I’ve mentioned to you before…Rossi and now today, Jessica mentioned something to me... about us.”

You met his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and caution. “Oh?”

“They think... and I guess, I’ve been thinking too... about what it would mean to be more than just friends,” Aaron said, each word carefully weighed but flowing freer than he expected. “I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I also can’t ignore that you’ve become the most important person in my life.”

The room filled with a heavy silence as you absorbed his words. Finally, you spoke, your voice tinged with vulnerability. “I’ve felt the same, Aaron. But there’s also this guilt... like I’m somehow betraying Haley? You were the love of her life.”

Aaron nodded slowly, understanding all too well. “I know that feeling,” he confessed. “But sometimes I wonder if, in some way we can’t quite understand; Haley knew we’d both be left here... lonely. And maybe, just maybe, she’d think it was right--us finding comfort, maybe even happiness, together.” He sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling so lost with what to do at this current moment, “Jessica says she’d want this--”

“Jessica did know her better than you or I,” You laughed, cutting him off. You had a point. A thick pause filled the room, and then your eyes softened at that, a tear glimmering but not falling. “That does sound like something Haley would orchestrate, doesn’t it? She always wanted the best for us. I’d like to think... I’d like to try more than this. But I need to think about it. We both should. I don’t want us to have any regrets.”

Aaron felt a mix of relief and anticipation swirl within him. “Of course,” he agreed. “We’ll take all the time we need.”

As you stood to leave, pausing at the door, you seemed to hesitate. “Aaron, can I try something?”

Confused but trusting, he nodded. At that moment, you stepped closer, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps, and kissed him. It was not a tentative kiss, but one that spoke of all the unspoken words and pent-up emotions…a kiss that sizzled with electricity and felt like destiny unfurling at their lips.

Aaron had never thought about kissing you, surprisingly enough. You were beautiful, everything he would want in a woman. But now, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you or your lips after this kiss.

When you finally pulled away, the look in your eyes was as shocked as he felt, both of you breathless from the intensity of the connection. Without a word, you turned and left, the door closing softly behind you.

Aaron stood motionless, the imprint of your lips still warm on his. The apartment was quiet again, but the air was charged with the promise of something new, something terrifyingly wonderful. As he touched his own lips, the memory of the kiss lingered, a promise of what could be if only they dared to reach for it.

That night, Aaron Hotchner lay awake, the darkness of his bedroom punctuated only by the occasional distant sounds of the city at night. His mind replayed the kiss over and over.

Its surprising intensity. Its rightness. He felt so much now. So much more than he even dared to feel before.

But amidst the replay, doubt crept in like a persistent fog. What if you regretted the kiss? What would Haley think of all this? Would she approve of him finding happiness again, especially with her best friend?

As he tossed and turned, Aaron's thoughts drifted to Haley.

What would Haley want? What about Jack? Jack was Haley’s biggest accomplishment and blessing, in the name of his happy life, what would she want for him? For them?

The answer came to him in the quiet solitude of the night. Yes. she would want them to be happy.

Happiness like this didn’t just stumble into one’s life without reason. It felt too right, too destined, to be anything but meant to be.

The next morning, still wrapped in the haze of his late-night revelations and running on less sleep than usual, Aaron’s phone rang just as he was about to enter the FBI building. It was you.

His heart skipped at the sight of your name. He had become used to your calls, but after the kiss, the conversation…all of the endless possibilities that lay ahead? He paused.

“So here’s how this will work,” you began without even so much of a greeting hello; your voice carrying a tone that was almost all business, yet he could detect an undercurrent of excitement. “You’re going to ask me on a date, and we’re going to try this for real because that kiss? Haley Brooks Hotchner would not have allowed a universe for a kiss like that to feel so good if she did not want this!”

Aaron laughed, a genuine, heartfelt sound that felt freeing. “Well, good morning to you, too,” There was no hesitation in your words, no regret—only forward motion. “I think that’s an excellent plan,” he responded, the weight of his previous doubts lifting. “How about dinner tonight? There’s a new place I’ve been wanting to try.”

You accepted with a laugh that echoed his own relief and happiness. “I’d love that, Aaron.”

As he pocketed his phone and stepped into the building, his step had a new lightness. He knew this was the start of something extraordinary--the beginning of a new chapter that promised as much joy as it did challenges.

But for the first time in a long while, Aaron felt fully equipped to embrace it all. He looked up briefly, as if through the steel and glass of the FBI headquarters he could see beyond to the sky above, and silently thanked Haley.

Her memory, always a part of him, now felt like a guiding star rather than a shadow.

Haley had wanted him to live fully, to love again, and in finding a future with you, Aaron knew he was honoring not just her memory but her wishes for him.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016 @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

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tealvenetianmask · 1 month ago

Text

We need some Barbie Wire Analysis . . .

Because for a character with maybe . . . 2-3 minutes of screen time, she sure has an outsized importance in the show. This is rivaled only by Tilla, who we know even less about.

Barbie gets the major callback in the last scene of Season 2. As other bloggers have pointed out, it could have been Fizz, who's a much bigger character so far. Fizz hated Blitz for 15 years, and they were able to finally reconcile-- even though 15 years is still a long time, that would have been, arguably, a more hopeful, comforting story for Stolas to hear.

But Barb, well, she's on his mind. She always is. "I miss her every day."

Barbie's absense, I think, is made more real by the way in which the show introduces her through photos, and she's never overtly mentioned in all of Season 1.

We're told that Blitz has a twin, that they performed together in the circus (or maybe after), and through her non-mentions, that something bad happened.

Then she's in the photo that makes Blitz finally break down at the end of Ozzie's.

I like how the twins mirror each other here. Similar eyes and face shapes, circus marks on their foreheads, pointy teeth, simple joy and enthusiasm. Whatever their lives were like at that time, they experienced it together, and there were good times.

Barb is central to Blitz's loss and his capacity for love.

We finally meet Barb in Unhappy Campers, and the way she's introduced . . . well. Unfortunately a lot of us were so disappointed that Blitz wasn't going to visit Stolas that we couldn't fully process what he was doing. When he first asked about Barb, my first reaction was "who?"

But that hasn't been Blitz's experience. He's just been keeping a major part of his day to day thoughts and feelings from us.

This nurse knows what's up. He's come back again and again to see Barb, and no taser can deter him.

It's such an obvious and central part of his life- missing Barb, trying to reconnect with her, that he seems honestly unaware that he's never told Moxxie about her at all.

It might feel like we're thrown into an emotional family confrontation out of nowhere, but Blitz has gone through years, potentially, of trying to get Barb to talk to him and being shut down. The hurt in his face, how it wears on him, and how he can't bear to give up hope. Well. It's all there.

So at this point, we still don't know Barb deeply. We only know what Blitz has told us, but more importantly, how he reacts to her absence, how he refuses to give up.

It tells us a lot about his stubbornness, the fine line he walks between resilience, hope, and just a pigheaded refusal to give up.

Maybe Barb is a part of why Blitz is like this. Maybe losing her taught him that some things are so important that it's worth never giving up, even if continuing to try is painful.

Maybe there will be a reconciliation, in part or in full.

But honestly, I also won't mind if a lesson Blitz needs to learn is that sometimes you do need to give up on someone you love. For that person's freedom to reinvent themselves. For your own sanity and contentment in life.

And if Blitz does let her go (at least of the practical fight to reconnect)? He'll think of her every day still.

#this story isn't over.#If I have to make a prediction #I suspect it will be a contrast to Stolas and Octavia and that Barb will be the one who never really forgives and comes back #But it would be very interesting to get an actual conversation between Blitz and Barb about what happened #and/or see her relationship with Fizz #I want to know so much more #and I think the show will deliver #my helluva meta #barbie wire #blitz #blitzo buckzo #blitzo #buckzo family #helluva boss #sinsmas #unhappy campers

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glitteredrry · 8 days ago

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sugar honey kisses

summary: harry’s next tour is joined by a special guest that has taken over his life and the world.

warning: brief mention of infertility/ miscarriage & fluff

wc: 3k+

a.n. i’ve been in a writing slump, and i just thought of this. i kind of went overboard (sorry). please excuse any spelling errors. i hope you enjoy these little blurbs. i was missing our harry, and i’m secretly manifesting another tour for us. byeee see y’all soon. 🤍

1. breaking news

Harry sat in the studio stuck on a verse on the last song to his album. He was gearing up to the release of his 4th studio album, and tour. Love on tour was going to be hard to top, but he looked forward to how this tour was going to be. He felt that he was in a better era of his life, all he hoped was that his growth would reflect on this new album. Fans were begging him to come back, and soon their prayers would be answered. His management was going to be releasing the album release date at 9 P.M. tonight. As he thoughtfully bite on the arm of his glasses, in walked in his wife YN. Harry’s eyes shot up looking at her happy to finally see her for the first time today, he had an early studio time today and only was able to give her a kiss to her head as she slept. Harry’s happiness quickly turned to nervousness as he saw a disheveled YN walking closer to him. “Doll, what’s wrong?” As she came in arm’s width from him, he grabbed onto her, and guided her to sit in his lap. Taking the tips of his fingers, he moved her hair out of her face as he watched her eyes tear up. Which only caused him to be more worried, “Harry, I wish I would've waited to tell you but I can’t.” YN reached down in her purse to grab something, and once it was shown to Harry he felt as if his heart rate had tripled in a split second.

“We’re pregnant.” She whispered to him with a smile. Harry was speechless as he stared at the test, he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re serious,” YN nodded, touching his face for some solace. “I’m absolutely serious, we have half of us here.” She grabbed his hand holding him to her stomach. Harry’s tears came crashing down as he laid on her chest still accepting that they were with child. Joy rang through Harry’s body as he felt his wife’s comforting touch all over him. Harry reelected on their journey of building their family, going into everything they thought it would be so easy to add a baby; Yet that was the furthest thing than what it was.

After the loss of two children you never got to meet, Harry had been grief ridden for his wife. YN had the optimism Harry couldn’t bear to have during that time. She tried her best to keep him determined that they would one day have a child. They had tried for two years straight, and as of 10 months ago they stopped deliberately trying, and just left it to divine timing. There were doctor appointments to see if something was off with either of them and everything came back clear. The couple tried IVF, and that also wasn’t for them. Harry couldn’t believe that YN was sitting here pregnant after all this time. Harry quickly remembered his album and tour that was supposed to happen, and panic rushed through him. “I-I need to push back the album. I'll call Jeff, and tell him to postpone the tour.” “Absolutely not, you’re not pushing anything back, H. You’re releasing the album, and you’re going on tour. This baby will have to fit into our lives, we’re going to have a tour baby.” Harry smiled at his wife hugging her tightly, he didn’t know how this was going to happen. All he knew is that he loved and trusted his wife. If he had her he could get through anything.

2. trending topic

The world was preparing for the release of the album “Saturn Return”. He had given it that title because he believed he was in his life's peak. Harry was elated as he did his press tour. He felt reconnected to his fans in a way where he had missed them. As Harry was in the green room preparing for his last appearance before the album dropped, Harry’s manager, Jeff walked into the room with his phone in hand. “We have a slight situation going on. Pictures of YN leaving her gym class were released today. She looks visibly pregnant in them. I could release a statement to the press to calm the media, or we can ignore it.”

Harry was furious because he knew that where YN was pictured was an alley. She tried her best to be as inconspicuous as she could. YN was bent over, tying her shoe, and her shirt came up, revealing her growing belly. “I’m sure she’s going to be upset at herself,” Harry kissed his teeth, hating that he would have to break the news of this to his wife. As he continued scrolling online, he saw how fans defended their beloved YN, and Harry appreciated the support at this time. Harry looked at the time and would have to be out there in five minutes. So, he quickly dialed YN. When she answered the phone, Harry explained what had just happened, and the couple decided that the media wouldn’t push them to say anything. This was for them to reveal when they wanted to. Harry rushed to the stage as Jeff followed him, “I want you to make sure there are no questions about what is out right now, no family questions in general. Understood?” He said to Jeff sternly.

As not only a husband but now a father it was his duty to protect his unborn child. Jeff nodded and spread the message. Not commenting on this assumption from the press didn’t make it die down. It only brought more media attention to the couple. On the night of the album release, Harry decided to have a private dinner in New York to celebrate his achievement. YN wore a dress that took attention away from her bump, but as the couple approached the restaurant, paparazzi attacked the couple, asking questions, and someone hit YN, making her nearly fall to the ground. “Move back. Get the fuck away from her,” he created a barrier around YN, making sure she was on her feet. “You okay, doll?” “I’m fine. That just scared me.” Harry held her hand, pressing a brief kiss to her hand as they walked through the door. The media only got worse as time went on. He knew that they wouldn’t stop until they had an answer. So, YN thought of a way to announce the tour that Harry couldn’t resist. Harry’s hand hovered over the “share” button on Instagram as he looked at his wife. “You sure?” “Yes, press it, Harry. It’s now or never.” Harry hit the button and shut off his phone. Within ten minutes of the post being out, the couple was trending on Twitter with one simple post.

Laugh On Tour. Coming 2025. +1.

3. not your average gender reveal

YN had just become accustomed to tour life, and she would soon be leaving to prepare to give birth. Harry pampered her throughout the tour, ensuring she had her own dressing room to cater to all her needs. YN was sad to say she would leave the tour, but soon, her baby would be here. Harry took it seriously that he wouldn’t have YN flying for the last two months of her pregnancy. In the four months, YN had been on tour with Harry, fans loved pregnant YN content. She was considered a style icon with her looks not only during their time off but at shows. YN would sometimes be recorded more at his shows than him, as fans would see her on the side of the stage dancing with her pregnant belly. Harry often joked with fans and asked them about his dad's jokes and if he needed to improve them. Fans would boo or cheer, and it became a fun section of the show. “How about that one, honey?” Harry asked YN on the mic, putting her on blast. As the fans turned their attention to YN, her reaction would be what the audience followed with. YN shook her head and threw out a thumbs down. Then, the crowd followed with booing. “I love constructive criticism. I’ll work on a better one. I’m trying to make my baby laugh when they get here. I would rather get booed here than with my baby.” He shot YN a wink and continued to the next song.

The moment between the couple went viral, and people wondered what the child's gender was. As the couple sat in the bath together after a show, YN thought of something that had been in her head for two weeks since fans had been asking about the gender of their child. Harry rubbed on her growing bump and hummed as he felt himself destressing. “Harry, we should do a gender reveal for my last show with you. Well, the last one for my time on tour, what do you think?” “This tour has felt like a special one. I can’t describe it, but it feels more personal than past ones. I think that would be a great idea.” Harry’s team got ready for the big day and decided that the best idea for this last-minute gender reveal would be to do it right before the closing song, “Kiwi.” YN would be joining him on stage for the first time since they’ve been together, which would also be a massive moment for the couple. Harry took a sip of water after finishing up a song, and he couldn’t help but smile at himself, knowing that the crowd was about to go crazy. “Now, I hate to say that we are coming to an end. But we are. Soon, you will be stuck in traffic, and I will be thinking of you all and the laughter we have shared. Before you go, though, I want to invite a special guest. To all you people trying to sneak off, I see you, so sit down. You won't want to miss this. Please welcome my wife, YN Styles, to the stage.”

YN comes from stage left with a big black balloon, making the crowd scream so loud her ears begin to hurt. “Everyone calm down. My baby is sleeping. Shhh.” Harry said to the crowd as he embraced YN. “Many of you don’t know, but, today is my wife’s last show with me.” The crowd began to say “no” collectively, sounding upset she was making a departure. “It will only be a short break, but when she returns, our baby will be here. So, today, we will be celebrating our baby before their arrival. YN, will you give us the honor of sharing the gender of our baby?” Harry said as if it was nothing, and it was at that exact moment all phones in the room were up, ready to capture the iconic moment happening before them. “Wait, before you pop it, let's add some suspense, right?” Harry looked toward the band as they teased the crowd with music. There was anxious screaming across Wembley Stadium. At each sound of the music, you heard and felt the tension. Harry gave YN the cue to pop the balloon, and as she did, pink confetti flew out, causing the crowd to squeal, cry, and shout, saying how they knew it was a girl. The instrumental to Kiwi started. YN and Harry shared a sweet kiss as YN exited the stage. At the show's end, pink fireworks ended the best night of Harry’s career.

4. tour baby

Everything has been perfect for Harry and YN for the past three months. They couldn’t be happier with their baby girl Genevieve, or Vivi as Harry called her. YN left the tour five months ago, and now she had their three-month-old daughter in her hands, staring back at her. Harry decided to go on break during the middle of his tour to spend three months with his family without worrying about it. YN gave birth in December of 2025, and now, in April, Harry would be heading back for tour, and YN would be joining him again. Harry had been so consumed by their bubble that he almost dreaded coming back for a tour. YN would be lying if she said she wouldn’t miss his attention, and his time. It was the sad side of touring that she was familiar with. YN always knew his family was his number one priority. Now, going back on tour, the fact of the matter is that they aren’t his only priority. Naturally, with Harry touring, it could weigh down on him. He became tired easily or just lacked being attentive in other areas. It wasn’t necessarily his fault.

The tour just consumes his life. Harry had promised her that he wouldn’t let that happen this time around. YN was going through postpartum depression, and expressed to Harry her feelings. Harry took that into account and constantly tried to pour love into YN. Sometimes, his sugar honey kisses got her through the day. YN felt wholly supported as she transitioned to becoming a mother. Harry was the perfect spouse during this time; as Harry prepared to return to tour, there had to be many accommodations for Vivi and YN. Harry wanted to ensure they had everything and more that they needed. Harry was nervous about his baby girl coming to tour, he knew the media would wish to have the first look at his child. His only priority was to protect his family. Over the break, Harry and YN had many talks about the transition that would be taking place. Nannies were in place for the rest of the tour, and there was a schedule the couple would try their best to follow.

On the first day back from tour, the crew fell in love with Vivi. Harry made sure to have a long talk with everyone about the boundary with his most precious gift the world gave him, and he made sure to have NDAs signed for anyone who would be working on the tour. If news were to leak about Vi, he doesn’t know how he would react. Truly he would feel betrayed. As Harry was on stage, he saw signs all around the stadium asking about his baby girl. “She’s happy, we’re happy,” Harry said to a fan sign. Towards the middle of the concert, fans across the Camp Nou stadium got a notification while Harry was dancing across the stage, which caused all of them to scream.

Laugh On Tour. Barcelona I. April, 2026.

5. bittersweet first birthday

Vivi was the star of the tour, and as her first birthday approached, she knew this. As she gained consciousness, she joined Harry for soundcheck and even joined him in singing (which was just her screaming). Harry was overjoyed that it seemed like his baby girl was enjoying this side of his life. He had many fears that she would be scared of the loud music, but instead, she embraced it. As Vi got older, YN thought it would be good to start showing her to attend concerts.

Typically, during shows, Vivi would be backstage with a nanny. During Vivi's 6 months on tour, she finally sat in a suite with YN, watching her father perform on stage, and it seemed that she enjoyed it. At nine months old, even though she had protective earphones, YN often caught her hanging on to the songs she once knew in the womb. It looked as if she was relearning them as the months flew by. Now, one day away from her first birthday, Harry and YN both share tears about this bittersweet birthday. Of course, the couple was happy that their child was turning one year old while Harry was on tour, but the tour would end a month after Vi’s birthday, and it felt like an era of all of their lives would be ending. Vi was conceived right before this era of their lives, and Harry had reached heights of his career that he had never reached before. He had to credit this to his wife and child for all attributes.

Harry felt a sense of motivation and drive that he never had before. Vi was the inspiration for everything in his life, and he knew that shortly after this tour ended, he would be working on an album dedicated to his daughter. Watching her grow had caused him to jot down small notes about what he would write about for the next album. Vi was the inspiration of his life. Harry wanted to share his daughter with fans because they patiently waited and never invaded his space in public when they saw his daughter was with him. Harry kept Vi’s identity under wraps, although some articles would pull different things together about what they thought his daughter looked like. Sharing the most private thing in Harry’s life made him anxious; he was exposing Vi to the public eye's scrutiny. Harry knew how difficult it would be to keep her hidden as she grew into a toddler.

As she got older, Vi would attempt to snatch the blankets off that kept her hidden, or she would try to peek out from her stroller as the flashing noises from cameras were on her. Harry knew he wouldn’t show her often, so he wanted the first time to be a special occasion. Once he brought up the idea of singing “Happy Birthday” to her on stage to YN, it was something YN had to agree to. As Harry performed to a crowd of 78,000 people, he knew it was time for his surprise before he took a brief intermission. His fans didn’t necessarily know the date of Vi’s birthday, so this would be something else that was personal to him. “If you all would join me, it’s a very special someone’s first birthday.” The crowd cheered loudly as Harry laughed briefly at the reaction, opening his eyes in shock at the loud cheering. “That’s the best you can do?” He said sarcastically as the crowd screamed louder. “I think we should bring our guest out on stage…what do you say?” As the crowd continued to cheer, it dawned on them that this would be the first look at his daughter. “Don’t scare her too bad; she’s new to show business. Welcome my pride and joy to the stage, Vivi. Come here.” YN sat Vi down and YN instructed her to walk to Harry. Vivi walked out on stage to her father with stumbling legs as if the stage and crowd were second nature to her. As Vi walked into Harry’s opening arms, the crowd loudly aww’ed as Vi laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, don’t make my baby cry. Let’s have a nice hushed happy birthday to my Vi.” The crowd listened to Harry and joined him in singing to Vivi. Which seemed to surprise her as the crowd said her name to her, “Happy birthday, Vivi,” Harry said, then he pressed a kiss to the side of her head feeling more emotional than he thought he would.

Vi clung to his body as Harry walked off stage to an emotional YN. When the show ended, the crew decided to do something special for Vivi, which had Harry and YN thanking everyone for hours afterward. That night in the hotel, Genevive was sleeping in between the couple after her sugar crash from eating too much cake. Harry and YN watched the online outpour of love and admiration for their baby.

NEW DADRRY CONTENT

Happy birthday to the laugh on tour baby

Aww she has his eyes

Harry and YN reacted to different comments, which also led to playful arguments about who she looked more like. YN was happy with her decision that Harry continued to go on tour, creating memories for a lifetime as a family. Everything fell into the right place for the couple, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. As weeks passed, Harry was on cloud nine when his tour ended, and he couldn’t wait until the next tour to see how much more involved Vi would be. He thought of including her throughout his next album, too. He just wanted something to capture her at this age, his personal time capsule. His family slept upstairs in their London home, and before he joined his wife for bed, he posted one last picture to conclude the end of this era.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This is goodbye for now, but not forever. I love you always. - H & V

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine

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redphlox · 6 months ago

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Shouto's ruined character arc in the epilogue

Edit December 2024: my opinion about Shouto's ending has changed after 431 was publised when vol 42 came out on Dec 4, 2024. I'll have to rewrite this. But still, my stance that ending was riddled with toxic positivity and hollowness still hands

The epilogue’s toxicity-positivity message about smiling ruined Shouto’s characterization and undoes the growth and purpose of his arc because he’s not allowed to mourn the imminent death of his brother Touya.

Shouto partaking in these tone-deaf, festive activities with his friends in chapter 429 feels out of character, feels cheap and shallow, and is a slap in the face to his family. In the past Shouto declined school-related activities and prioritized spending time with his mom at the hospital. Now the narrative is trying to sell the idea that he would NOT spend every remaining minute alongside his family with his dying brother, who he has always wanted to know, the brother he practically begged to confront and said, "Our paths will cross whether you want them to or not" to. Shouto spent all this manga reconciling his feelings about his family and reconnecting to them to just... not be with them when they’re about to experience loss AGAIN?

I'm not saying I want Shouto to be miserable, but realistically (since readers are so obsessed with realism in this superhero manga), he wouldn’t be wasting the limited time he has left with his brother by going to a farewell party, or any party. Damn, can the author let him mourn? Despite all the celebration the kids are doing, Shouto didn’t get a happy ending. While the rest of their community is rebuilding and making sense of what happened, the Todoroki family is still going through their crisis. It’s not over for them. At least let them cry.

This is a regression for Shouto’s character because the concept of allowing heroes to cry was first presented through Shouto, literally through his own words. The narrative then picks up this concept again during Ochako's speech at the UA shelter civilians, and then... Shouto isn't allowed to cry in the epilogue, and is forced to fake a smile so his friends don’t worry about him.

It’s not like Shouto has cried in this manga. He cried during the sports festival, during the Dabi reveal, and after Dabi escaped to Gunga to go after Endeavor because he knew this meant he had failed to reach his brother -- so no, it doesn’t make sense that he wouldn’t cry now. Instead, he's the one fake smiling, and only Ochako is allowed to be shown crying and being comforted. The double standard and retcon is astounding.

You can literally see the light not reaching his eyes in this panel from 425 when Deku asks if he’s okay. And yes, Shouto is prioritizing his family in this panel, but like I said, Touya doesn't have much time left... why waste it?

Shouto doesn’t want anyone to worry about him, so he’s putting on a brave face. And yet Deku and the other classmates reaching out to Ochako in 429 is selling the opposite message - don’t cry alone, let us be here for you, etc. Why isn’t Shouto granted the same support, especially from these classmates he claims are there for him?

If Horikoshi was aiming for a happy ending where people smile, then Touya’s grimdark, cruel, second and final death doesn't fit because Shouto has to mourn. You can't have both fake smiling and off-screen assumed mourning… it makes no sense for Shouto’s arc, or for the epilogue’s message about reaching out for help or to help. It doesn’t make sense in any context.

Shouto's characterization feels so off in this epilogue. He’s a shell of the person he was becoming. The story starts out by saying that this character is supposed to process the trauma of childhood and a dysfunctional family that he always wished was different, but now he has his found family in his classmates instead. And I'm not saying he can't have both - I'd say the support from his friends is imperative - but, it doesn't make sense that he has seemingly moved on because the fact is, his family situation was his entire start.

It's not just Shouto that feels off, but his family too. Their once-considered-dead brother/son is alive, but now is dying in front of their eyes for real this time and they just… don’t try to spend as much time with him as possible? Even the sentiment that Shouto gave the family more time to talk falls empty because Touya can only endure a few minutes of conversation at a time, and it’s not like he’s slowly improving and that time will increase. It will only decrease. And yet, the family doesn’t seem too concerned or heartbroken that they’re witnessing someone they love die a second time, this time slowly. He can’t even communicate with them, and he’ll most likely have many things left unsaid when he dies.

The Todoroki family plot was set up to be about reconciliation, but they’re not reconnecting even with Touya’s upcoming death. This scene of Touya and the other siblings kicking a ball while Shoto looked on from the second story of the house begging his father to allow him to play with his siblings has been addressed like four times, and yet in the end he doesn’t get to spend happy moments with his siblings. His reward for his heroism is Touya’s slow march toward death and the knowledge that he has the same favorite food as the brother who his father neglected to death twice.

Instead of being shown mourning or connecting, the family is acting cold and distant - only Natsuo is acting with a semblance of his normal self. I know some readers attribute the family’s aloofness to Japanese culture not being very affectionate or open with their emotions, but that doesn’t mean Japanese people are devoid of feelings. That’s so fucking racist. We’ve seen parents express love and concern for their children in this manga, and yet the Todoroki family continues to say “we’ll talk, we’ll talk” but we’ve never seen any follow-up. It’s ironic because Shouto’s whole mentality is “actions speak louder than words”.

For a family that became unstable because of misunderstandings about feeling loved and wanted, the family continues to feel devoid of caring. No one comforts Shouto, no one talks about how they feel except for Endeavor. Shouto isn’t allowed to grieve in front of his friends because Ochako takes priority because the narrative is pushing this toxic positivity message about smiling that works on the surface but fails to address any systemic changes.

This ending doesn't fit the hopeful tone of Shouto's arc.

RIP Shouto’s arc. We loved you.

#bnha #bnha critical #bnha 429 #shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki #todoroki family

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dinosus · 2 months ago

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₊˚.༄ Bonds That Run Deep₊˚.༄ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

[Sully Family x Lost Sibling! Reader (reader is Na'vi)] Synopsis : Years after a devastating loss, the Sully family is reunited with their long-lost eldest sibling, a moment that reignites both joy and heartache. Once thought gone forever, their sibling returns as a formidable warrior—precise with a bow, swift to tame an Ikran, and gifted in strategy—leaving the family in awe of their strength and resilience.

The reunion reshapes their bonds: Neteyam finds a steady partner to share his burdens, Lo’ak gains a rival and confidant, Kiri discovers a spiritual kindred, and little Tuk showers her newfound sibling with endless love. For Jake and Neytiri, it’s a bittersweet journey of healing, balancing pride in who their child has become with the weight of time lost. Warnings : very wholesome you will combust

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Jake and Neytiri had spent years mourning the loss of their firstborn, their hearts heavy with the weight of a child they believed Eywa had taken back. They never spoke about it openly in front of the other kids, not wanting their grief to cast shadows on the present. -When they first hear rumors of a lone Na’vi wandering far from the clan’s territories—someone who doesn’t quite fit in—the hope seems too fragile to entertain. -Neytiri dismisses it at first, her voice hard with pain: “It cannot be. Eywa has already decided their path.” -But Jake, ever to hold onto that speck of hope, feels something stir deep within him, a nagging sense that they need to find you. “What if it is them? Yawne, we have to try."

-When the family finally sees you for the first time, it’s almost surreal. -Your features are unmistakable—your eyes, your build, the small markings that Neytiri remembers tracing when you were just a baby. -Jake freezes in his tracks, his normally steady composure cracking as he whispers, “It’s you... It’s really you.” Neytiri’s reaction is more visceral. She falls to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she reaches out, her voice breaking: “My child... my baby...” -Neteyam is silent at first, the realization hitting him like a storm. He had heard stories of you but never imagined he’d see you. His hands tremble as he approaches, his voice soft but shaking: “Is it true? Are you... my sibling?” -Tuk clings to Kiri, confused but excited. “We have another sibling? Really?!” Lo’ak, ever the joker, tries to lighten the heavy moment: “Guess we’re not the favorites anymore, huh?”

-The initial reunion is a flood of emotions—tears, laughter, disbelief. Neytiri holds you close, her hands shaking as she cups your face, her words a mix of apology and joy: “I thought we lost you. Eywa has brought you back to us.” -Jake struggles to maintain his composure, his voice thick with emotion as he says, “We thought we’d never see you again. Look at you... You’ve grown so much.” While they’re overjoyed to have you back, Jake and Neytiri also carry immense guilt. -Neytiri often stays up at night, staring at you while you sleep, whispering quiet apologies to Eywa for letting you slip away. -Jake tries to make up for lost time by teaching you survival skills, even if you already know them. “I should’ve been there for you. Let me show you, just in case.” His attempts to reconnect often come with a tinge of overprotectiveness, something you can’t help but find endearing. -They both shower you with subtle but heartfelt gestures—Neytiri weaving intricate beads into your braids, Jake carving you a small totem to carry as a symbol of family.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Neteyam, being the oldest after you, feels an immediate kinship. He idolizes you in a way that catches you off guard. “You were always the strong one, weren’t you? Mom and Dad used to talk about you like you could do anything.” -From the moment the family reunites, Neteyam is drawn to you. His role as the responsible older brother has always been his identity, but now, seeing you—capable, strong, and wise—he feels a weight lift. -One evening, as the two of you sit on a high branch overlooking the forest, Neteyam glances at you, his voice soft: “I always wondered what it would feel like to have someone like you to look up to. Now I know.”

-Lo’ak’s first instinct is to test you. He’s always been the rebel, and he wants to know if you can keep up. -He constantly challenges you to races, sparring matches, or daring climbs. “Bet you can’t beat me to the top of that tree,” he taunts, already halfway up. But when you outpace him, he groans dramatically. “Okay, okay, maybe you’re a little cool.” Beneath his playful teasing, though, is a deep admiration. -Lo’ak rarely says it out loud, but the way he watches you when you're literally doing anything—speaks volumes. After a particularly close hunt or winning a race, he slings an arm around your shoulders, his grin boyish and proud: “You’re just showing off now, aren’t you?

-Kiri feels an almost spiritual connection with you. She’s drawn to the way you carry yourself, and often spends hours talking with you about Eywa and the balance of the world.

-“Do you feel it too?” she asks one evening, her voice soft as the bioluminescent forest glows around you. When you nod, she smiles, her eyes filled with quiet wonder. “I knew you would. You’re one of us.”

-She loves showing you the hidden wonders of Pandora, her excitement bubbling over as she guides you to a glowing grove or a stream filled with darting, luminous fish. “This is my favorite place,” she confesses, her voice a whisper. “Now it’s ours.”

-You often catch her sketching in the dirt or weaving patterns inspired by your adventures together. When you ask about them, she shrugs, a shy smile on her lips: “Just trying to remember these moments.”

-Tuk is absolutely smitten with you. From the moment she met you, she declared you her new favorite sibling. She’s always by your side, her small hand slipping into yours as you walk through the forest. “Can I come with you?” she asks, her big eyes shining with hope. -You find yourself teaching her little tricks—how to shoot a tiny bow, how to climb trees safely—and her laughter fills the air as she tries to keep up. “Look! I’m like you now!” she cries, beaming with pride. -At night, she curls up beside you, her head resting against your arm. “Don’t ever leave again, okay?” she whispers, her voice tinged with the innocence of a child. -The Sully siblings have always been close, but with you, their dynamic shifts in the best way. -You quickly become the target of their good-natured teasing, but you’re not afraid to dish it back.“I think you’re losing your touch, Neteyam,” you tease after a sparring match, earning an exaggerated groan from him and laughter from Lo’ak. -Lo’ak and Tuk team up to prank you, only to get caught when Kiri casually spills their plan. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets,” Lo’ak mutters, glaring at his sister. -One night, under the stars, the five of you sit together, the forest alive with its soft, glowing hum. Tuk is nestled against your side, Kiri is braiding your hair, and Neteyam and Lo’ak are arguing over who caught the biggest fish that day. -You take it all in—the laughter, the warmth, the love—and feel an overwhelming sense of belonging.“We’re stronger together,” Neteyam says, breaking through the chatter. He looks at each of you, his gaze lingering on you last. “All of us.” -Lo’ak groans dramatically, “Alright, enough of the sappy stuff.” But he doesn’t pull away when you ruffle his hair, nor does he hide the smile tugging at his lips.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Jake has always carried the pain of losing you deep within him, a wound he thought would never heal. As much as he’s overjoyed to have you back, there’s a part of him that struggles with the guilt of all the years you spent apart. -He watches you carefully in the first few days after the reunion, his sharp, observant eyes catching every movement, every expression. His voice, usually confident and steady, softens when he speaks to you. “You okay, kid? You settling in alright?” It’s casual, but there’s an unspoken fear behind the words, a need to make sure you’re truly here. -Jake’s pride in your abilities is almost immediate, but it grows tenfold as he watches you adapt to the Na’vi way of life with such ease. -When he sees you take down a target with a single, precise arrow, he lets out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You’re a natural, just like your old man.” -Jake has always been fiercely protective of his family, but with you, it’s different. It’s not just about keeping you safe—it’s about making up for lost time. He wants to be there for every moment, to catch up on the years he missed. He’s quick to jump to your defense, even when it’s not necessary. -If anyone in the clan questions your place, Jake steps in before you can even respond, his voice firm but calm: “They’ve earned their place here. You’ve got a problem with that, you talk to me.” -As much as Jake wants to protect you, he quickly realizes you’re more than capable of handling yourself. -This both surprises and humbles him.“You don’t need me hovering,” he admits one day after watching you dispatch a group of enemies with precise, calculated movements. “But you can’t blame a dad for worrying.” His grin is sheepish, but there’s a flicker of pride in his eyes that makes your chest ache. -Jake doesn’t always say the words outright, but his love for you is evident in everything he does. The way he checks your gear before a mission, the way he pats your shoulder after a successful hunt, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention—all of it speaks volumes. -One night, as you sit beside him under the stars, he breaks the silence with a rare, heartfelt confession. “I thought I’d lost you for good. And now, having you here... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank Eywa enough.” His voice is rough, filled with a mixture of gratitude and regret.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-Neytiri’s reaction to your return is a whirlwind of love, grief, and relief. She holds you tightly the moment you reunite, her tears mingling with the warmth of your skin. “You are home,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she cups your face, memorizing every feature. -At first, she can’t let you out of her sight. Years of fearing she would never see you again have left her protective, almost overbearing. Her eyes follow you wherever you go, her instincts sharp, ready to shield you from anything. -Neytiri is in awe of the person you’ve become. When she sees your precise aim with a bow or the way you ride your Ikran with effortless grace, her heart swells with pride. -She takes great pride in teaching you the finer details of Na’vi culture, even if you’ve already mastered much of it on your own. “You are part of us, my child. This is your place.” -Neytiri’s protective nature manifests differently than Jake’s. Where Jake might give orders or try to shield you, Neytiri approaches with quiet understanding. -When she sees you tending to a minor injury after a hunt, she rushes over, her hands gentle but firm as she insists on helping. “Let me see. You may be strong, but even warriors need tending.” -Neytiri takes you to her favorite places in the forest, sharing the beauty and serenity of Pandora with you. She points out the hidden treasures of Eywa’s world, her voice reverent as she speaks of the balance in all things. -One evening, she brings you to the Tree of Voices. Together, you connect to the tendrils of the tree, and she whispers, “They have watched over you. Eywa has always known you would come back to us.” -Neytiri enjoys teaching you skills you might have missed during your time away, like the subtle art of weaving or the ceremonial dances of the clan. But she’s also open to learning from you, impressed by the strategies you devise and the clever ways you solve problems. “You have your father’s mind for battle,” she says with a grin one day, “but your heart... that is mine.” -Neytiri makes it clear that she will fight for you, as she always has for her family. When anyone questions your place in the clan, her voice is sharp and unwavering: “They are my child. That is all you need to know.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

-It doesn’t take long for the Sully family to notice you’re more than just their lost sibling—you’re a force to be reckoned with. -Neytiri is the first to notice your precision with a bow. She observes silently as you nock an arrow, your stance firm and your aim deadly. The arrow sails through the air, splitting the fruit on a distant branch perfectly in two. Neytiri’s lips part in astonishment before a quiet, proud smile spreads across her face. She tilts her head, her voice carrying a rare, gentle tone: “Who taught you this?” -Learning to bond with an Ikran is no easy feat, but you take it as a personal challenge. The family watches anxiously as you ascend the rocky cliffside, Jake muttering under his breath, “They should take it slow. No one gets it on the first try.” -But you surprise them yet again. The bond happens so seamlessly that Jake stares in stunned silence, Neytiri gripping his arm as if to confirm it’s real. -Lo’ak blurts out, “There’s no way! It took me three tries!” Tuk, wide-eyed, tugs on Kiri’s arm. “Did you see that? [Y/N] is amazing!” Kiri smiles, watching them with fondness in her eyes. -When you soar through the skies for the first time, the exhilaration is clear on your face, but the family’s awe is almost comical. Neteyam watches you with unshaken admiration, his voice barely above a whisper: “I don’t think Eywa has ever made someone like them.”

-As the Sullys adjust to your presence, it’s clear you’re not just “the lost sibling” anymore—you’re an integral part of the family. Every member looks to you in their own way, whether it’s for guidance, comfort, or simply a shared laugh. -You’ve become a bridge between the past and the present, a reminder of what the family has endured and how much stronger they’ve become together. -Around the fire one night, Neteyam says it best: “We’ve always been strong, but with you here, we’re unstoppable.” And as you look around at your family—the warmth in their eyes, the love in their smiles—you realize he’s right. -This was your family, your fortress.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

A/n : AHHAaararagghh finally finished this 😭(yes i edited this one) I tried a new perspective, seeing how the Sullys would react with their long lost sibling coming back. Please leave a like :') Motivates me ALOT to write more imagines/headcanons for you guys ! :D Also don't forget to drink some waterr 🚰💦🏃‍♀️ Adios >:P

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Ignore these haha <3

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arcanewhoosh · 2 months ago

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Ello ello, I was wondering if I could request something for Jinx x reader fic with a reader that visit her hideout for the first time but is kinda anxious walking around the place because its literally the propeller of a hot air balloon or something with no handrails or anything to keep a person from falling XD

Starts

2,099 words (Why can't I keep it under 1k)

Proofread? Y/N

Relevant tags: Jinx x Reader, puppy love, mid-teens, reader is a nervous wreck and scared of heights

Note: I played around with this a bit and I guess you can read this as an AU of Till Forever Falls Apart

Growing up, you didn't see much of Vander's kids. But you did hear a lot about them. Depending on who was talking, you would get some different variation on what his kids were like. If it was one of the other kids; awesome, brave, having all the fun, got to go anywhere they wanted, pulled cool jobs to stick it to the Pilties. If it was one of the adults talking; irresponsible, reckless, hard-headed, loud, troublemakers. Years later, you realize that your parents might be onto something.

Being a kid yourself, you wanted to believe the other kids, but your parents had enough influence on you to make you believe them more. Those kinds of children are bad influences, love-- they'd always say. So, like a good child, you kept your distance from the troublesome kids. Oftentimes, you'd stay at home and read books rather than play outside, because nine times out of ten, Vander's kids were all out there.

But in the rare times you were forced outside by your friends--or by your parents who had become worried about your lack of social interaction--you'd always hear an iteration of one of their adventures.

One day, after running around with your friends near the port, you came home to your parents having a hushed discussion in your living room. Seeing as you weren't the most graceful person in the world, your heavy footsteps immediately alerted them of your presence, and their discussion was subsequently ceased.

You remember looking at them curiously, them nodding to each other before your mother beckoned for you to sit beside them on your small couch, and they had told you about an explosion in Piltover.

Three people dead, one of them was Vander's eldest.

---

In the days that followed, your parents had brought you around to Vander's establishment, The Last Drop. It would seem that half the Undercity had become frequent visitors in order to offer condolences for his family's loss, including your family. It was there you found out that your Vander used to work with your father down at the mines back in the day. After that, your father and Vander seemed to have reconnected properly, and your family wound up visiting the bar on a regular basis. Your parents said it was just old friends reconnecting, but you could deduce that they were also trying to comfort a grieving father who still had three kids he needed to look after.

It was in these visits that you learned more about his children. Not just the mere stories your friends would retell about their misadventures; real details. About a young girl that had her whole life ahead of her, taken because of the unfortunate reality that children of the Undercity had to work to survive at such an early age.

It was also during these visits that you would meet one of her siblings; the youngest of the bunch.

She was a wreck, even two months after the funeral. Mylo and Claggor--who you had befriended one night while your parent's were helping Vander around The Last Drop--said that she had refused to speak with anyone, and had been actively avoiding the increased throngs of people that visited. Especially since Silco had decided to retire the Shimmer industry to help build a better future for Zaun with Vander.

You were wandering around the back of the bar, which Vander had graciously allowed you to, when you heard a clattering come from an open door, and out of sheer curiosity, peeked in.

There, hunched over a desk, tinkering with something you couldn't immediately see, was a mop of blue hair. She hadn't noticed you open the door wider as you took a step into the room; didn’t even notice your presence as you stood there for a good minute, debating on whether or not you should just leave. Eventually, you decided against what your usual choice of action would've been, and announced your presence.

"Hello."

Clattering as she jumps in surprise, the sound of the chair scraping the floor as she stood up to face the intruder. Pale blue eyes, meeting yours.

A moment in time that's you'd single out, years later, as the beginning of something.

-----

Something absolutely stupid.

"Wait 'till you see it, you're gonna flip!"

"I feel like my stomach is gonna flip."

"Don't be such a baby." Your companion says as she goes ahead of you--or, below you?

Maybe you were being a baby, but you felt that, given the current situation, you had every right to be. Who in their right mind would climb down into the vents of Zaun?

You hazard a look down as you descend the ladder. Nothing but inky darkness below. You clamp your eyes shut and whip your head back to face the ladder, your grip in the bars tightening. Nope, nope, nope.

You could be writing your paper on enhanced wind turbines right about now, but no, Powder had a big surprise that she just needed to show you and it couldn't wait until you were done writing your dumb paper. How she had managed to convince you to leave the safety of the local library to venture down into the sealed off section of the underground--hell, how she convinced you to get on a ladder, you'll never know.

Well, you do know. But that's an internal monologue you weren't quite ready for, yet.

"Are you sure this is even safe?" You say, frozen in place.

"Is that really something you want to ask me?" You groan.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?"

She scoffs. "Oh, absolutely not. Vander might actually kill us."

"Powder!"

"We'll be fine! We're almost there, anyway." Her voice starts to sound farther away; you force your shaking legs to climb down one step at a time. You try to even out your breathing as you go, because the last thing either of you need is you hyperventilating then passing out mid-descent.

After what feels like an eternity, you hear a thud below you, and you force yourself to look back down. You squint, Powder finally made it down to wherever you were supposed to go, and was dusting herself off. From what you could make out, it looked like some sort of platform. A ledge with a maintenance room, maybe?

Powder looks up at you, grinning. "Hurry up slowpoke!" You scowl at her.

"I think I'll take my time, thank you very much." You nonetheless pick up the pace, by a marginal amount, and eventually make the last step down onto the platform gracefully. Well, if you count you trying to feel around with your foot before dropping onto your butt graceful.

Your companion finds all of this hilarious, of course, but still helps you up.

"Perfect landing, a ten out of ten from the judges." She says as she holds you up by your arms. Your faces are close enough that you can make out the freckles spattered across her nose. Her eyes holding a mischievous glint, crinkling at the edges. Her smiling though biting her bottom lip; threatening to split into a grin, trying to stop herself from laughing any more at your expense.

Here she is, covered in dust and soot, but somehow looking all the more radiant in the dark, dank, wherever this was.

It takes a bit of effort for you to not think about the close you two are. Not the time.

"Har har." You pry your arms free from her and look around, still slightly off-put by the darkness. "So, where are we?" A small dust cloud forms when you pat down your coat, and your nose scrunches in response, a sneeze threatening to escape.

"Oh, right." She clears her throat and turns around, heading farther ahead. Instead of following, you squint, trying to get your vision to adjust to the dark better. You take a step forward, trying to make out the far wall.

"Ta-da!"

You hear a lever being pulled, and a number of lights flicker to life around you. You blink, eyes having to adjust to the light.

After a few seconds, you stumble back, and immediately try to ground yourself on all fours. Once your eyes are fully adjusted, you're able to confidently say that you are not, in fact, on a platform, or any kind of stable surface whatsoever. And you were about three steps away from falling to your death.

"Are we… Are we on a propeller?" You say incredulously.

Powder, who immediately started running towards you when you stumbled back, shrugs sheepishly. "Uhm, yes?"

Your breathing starts to go ragged again, and you have to take a minute for it to steady. Jinx tries to help by rubbing circles on your back. It does help, because the sensation of her hand on your back is so damn distracting, but you won't ever tell her that.

"Remind me--" You start, finally managing to even out your breathing and sitting up straight. "--why this was your big surprise again?"

She smiles at you, albeit a little more lackluster, and scratches the back of her head. Damn it she's still pretty even when she's unsure of herself. "I just thought this would be a cool place to hang out."

"What if the vent starts up?"

"It won't! I already checked everything's disconnected from the motor!" She points to the middle of the vent, where the propellers all meet towards the motor. You raise an eyebrow at her.

"When did you have time to check?"

She shrugs. "I checked before I brought you here, didn't want to bring you if it wasn't safe."

"Powder, I think we went past that the second you decided this was a good spot to hang." There's a hint of sarcasm at your tone, but you don't have the heart to fully commit to it, this is Powder, after all. You couldn't stay mad at her even if you tried.

She laughs and holds on to you again when you stand up. "Easy there, jelly legs."

You half-heartedly push her off, earning you a pout. After making sure your legs wouldn't suddenly give out, you hazard a few steps around the place. "I mean, it's got character, I guess?"

You hear her get up after you, hurriedly walking towards you. "Right? Look, lights, paint, tarps, this place'll look great in no time!" She starts animatedly talking about interior design choices--as if you could consider interior designing on a vent--and even pulls out a drawing she had already made on how she wanted the place to look. You find yourself relax at her musings, the tension in your shoulders evaporating.

"I hope you're planning on installing railings on this thing." She pats your arm in response, still talking about what she plans to do with the space.

Some of her hair has fallen out of the bun she usually keeps it in, and was getting in her face. She occasionally tries to blow it away from her face, only for it to fall back into place.

A bad idea. You think to yourself as you contemplate tucking the stray strands being her ear. That would make things really awkward. You think as your hand is already moving up. Yeah, no, I definitely shouldn't do that as you do, indeed, tuck the stray strands of hair behind her ear.

She had already stopped talking the second she saw your hand moving towards her face, eyes flitting from your lingering hand just below her cheek, to your own face. The look she gives your is one of curiosity; eyebrow raised, a mischievous glint in those pale blue eyes. There's a question she wants to ask, but she doesn't say anything. You hope that your own face doesn't betray any emotion, but deep down you're panicking. Oh fuck, what did I just do? What now? This is so dumb, I'm dumb.

Sensing that you're probably currently--temporarily--unable to form a coherent sentence, she grabs your hand that's still on her cheek, and rests her face against it.

Whatever line of incoherent thoughts were just running through your mind are silenced. The one, small gesture calming the storm brewing in your mind.

It won't register just yet, but years from now, when you're both entering adulthood, when she's lazily sprawled on top of you instead of the ample space of the bean bag you hauled into her hideout. You'll look back on this moment, and realize that was the start of something special for you and Powder. And you'll thank your lucky stars you decided to skip your paper and climb down a dark vent in Zaun.

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #arcane jinx #arcane netflix #arcane #puppy love

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gwens-love · 3 months ago

Text

The space he left behind

Summary: After Nicky’s passing, Agatha doesn’t know how to handel being a good mother to her daughter, and a partner to Rio. She navigates her grief while struggling to reconnect. As Rio hopes to recover the love that binds their family.

Warnings: Angst, grief and loss.

Word count: 1.7k

~Agathario x daughter!reader~

A/N: I used google translate for this sorry if there are mistakes.

Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

As you wandered through the library with a book in hand, you looked up at Agatha, or better said your Mama. She was busy, but you missed the comfort of her voice, the warmth she used to give so freely.

“Mama?” you asked softly, hoping you weren’t interrupting her too much.

Her eyes flicked to you, and a small, sad smile appeared on her face. She had been distant since Nicky was gone, but there was still a part of her that wanted to be here for you, to love you the way he would’ve wanted.

“What is it, little one?” she replied, her voice softer than you’d heard it in days.

You held up the book, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Can you read this to me, Mama?”

Agatha looked down at you, her expression conflicted. She reached for the book, fingers trembling slightly, and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe… maybe later, my love. I’m… I’m not quite ready today.”

Your heart ached a little, but you nodded. “Can… Mami read it to me, then?”

Agatha’s expression softened, and she glanced down the hallway where Rio was bustling around. Rio heard your voice and peeked in, her face lighting up with a gentle smile as she approached, kneeling down beside you.

“Of course, mi corazón,” Rio said, taking the book from you and winking at Agatha. “Mama and I both have time for our little reader tonight.”

Agatha gave Rio a grateful smile, her hand resting briefly on Rio’s shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay together, they would find their way forward, for you.

You nestled into Rio’s side as she settled down with the book, her aura carrying a mix of nature’s calm and something far more powerful… the kind of energy you could feel in your bones. To you, she was Mami, warm and loving, but everyone else knew her as the green witch or Death with a capital D. Her touch felt like spring’s renewal and autumn’s quiet decay, life and death balanced in her very presence.

Rio opened the book, her fingers gliding delicately over the pages. “Are you ready for an adventure, mi amor?” she asked, her voice rich and velvety, holding that magical spark that always made your heart race a little faster.

You nodded eagerly, glancing over at Agatha, who sat nearby. She was watching the two of you with a softness in her eyes, though you could sense a shadow in her heart. Rio noticed too, her gaze meeting Agatha’s, a look passing between them a silent understanding of grief, love, and the weight of the responsibilities they shared.

As Rio began to read, her voice wove the story into something almost real. Her words seemed to hang in the air, each sentence wrapping around you like an invisible charm. You leaned in closer, comforted by her presence, while Agatha, though still distant, stayed close enough to remind you she wasn’t going anywhere.

With both Mama and Mami by your side, you knew you were safe, held between life and death, love and sorrow, warmth and magic. And for now, that was enough.

As Rio’s voice wrapped you in the story, the words began to blur. You found yourself glancing over at Mama, who was watching the two of you with that faraway look in her eyes the one she had whenever anyone mentioned him.

You shifted, looking down at the edge of your blanket, and softly asked, “Mama? Where… where did Nicholas go?”

The question hung in the air, pulling both of them from the gentle quiet of the story. Agatha’s face froze for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing her features. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure how to answer. Rio’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even she looked at Agatha, letting her decide what to say.

“Well, my darling…” Agatha began softly, her voice a blend of love and grief. “Nicky… he had to go somewhere very far away. Somewhere we can’t visit him.”

“But he’s coming back, right?” you asked, looking between them, the innocence in your eyes making it clear you hadn’t grasped the weight of what had happened.

Agatha’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. Her fingers were gentle, yet you could feel the heaviness of her sadness. “Sometimes, people go to places they can’t come back from, little one.”

You blinked, processing her words, your heart sinking. “Like… like the stories? Like when someone goes into the spirit world?”

“Yes,” Rio murmured, her voice a whisper, her thumb tracing soothing circles on your hand. “Nicky went to a place like that. But he loved you very, very much, and he’s always watching over you, mi amor.”

You looked down, frowning, the ache of missing him suddenly sharper, more real. “Will I ever see him again?”

Agatha swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly. “Maybe… one day, in a different way. But for now, he’d want us to take care of each other. To remember him with love, even though he’s gone.”

You held their words close, even as you struggled to understand fully. In that moment, you could feel both their hands grounding you, reminding you that even though Nicholas was gone, Mama and Mami would always be here. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

But for Mama, that wasn’t enough. Agatha missed Nicky deeply, in a way words could never capture. She carried the loss in her eyes, in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was looking, and in the quiet moments when she seemed miles away, lost in memories of him.

After she tucked you into bed that night, Agatha lingered by your side, brushing a gentle hand across your hair as you began to drift off. She stayed until your breathing slowed, your small hand still curled around hers.

When she finally pulled away, she found Rio waiting at the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded, watching her with a look that held both understanding and sorrow. The green witch, Death herself, could face any darkness with courage, but this grief the emptiness left by Nicky’s absence was something even she couldn’t fully shield them from.

Agatha closed the door softly behind her and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right,” she admitted in a whisper, her voice breaking. “I wasn’t meant to do this alone, Rio.”

Rio stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on Agatha’s arm. “You’re not alone, mi amor,” she replied, her voice low and steady. “We’re in this together. Nicky’s gone, yes, but his love he left that with us. With you.”

Agatha looked down, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her own robe as if tracing the fabric might help her remember his touch, his laugh, the quiet way he’d reassure her during nights like this. She wanted to believe Rio, to find comfort in her words, but the ache of Nicky’s absence was too raw, too present. “It’s just… sometimes, it feels like there’s a part of me that went with him.”

Rio tilted Agatha’s chin up gently, her gaze fierce yet filled with empathy. “You still carry him, Agatha. He’s in every act of love, every time you comfort mi cielo, every time you give of yourself even when it hurts. Nicky would be so proud of you for everything you are, and everything you’re becoming.”

Agatha’s eyes filled with tears, and she let them fall, silent yet heavy with the grief she’d been holding back. Rio pulled her into an embrace, grounding her, her arms strong and steady, as if she could anchor Agatha to the world again.

For a long while, they stood like that in the dim light, surrounded by quiet and loss, yet also by the bond they shared a bond born of love, even through the pain. Agatha knew she had to carry on, not just for you, but for Nicky’s memory and for the family they were still trying to build.

And maybe, with Rio by her side, she would find the strength to face each day anew.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~

“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, anyway,” Agatha murmured, her voice laced with sorrow, her words hanging heavily between them. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, a glint of hurt that hadn’t yet softened, no matter how much time had passed.

Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence faltering as she held Agatha’s gaze. She nodded, understanding the weight of the pain she had caused, the way it still lingered, the wound not fully healed.

“But I will love you until the end of my days here on this earth,” Agatha continued, her voice breaking slightly as she brought her hands up to Rio’s face, her thumbs tracing the curve of Rio’s cheekbones with a gentleness that spoke of both love and longing.

Rio closed her eyes at the touch, feeling the warmth of Agatha’s palms against her skin. For a moment, it was as if the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, bound by love, loss, and the complicated history that lay between them. She knew Agatha’s forgiveness was not something that could be given lightly, nor something that could be hurried. Rio had hurt her, betrayed the trust they’d built, and she understood that forgiveness might never fully come.

“I don’t deserve you,” Rio whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with the weight of her own guilt. “But I’ll spend every moment of this life making it right, even if it takes until the end of time.”

Agatha leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s, their breaths mingling in the silence. It was a closeness that spoke of all the words they couldn’t bring themselves to say, of all the love that still pulsed between them despite everything.

They stayed like that, bound together, in a promise unspoken yet deeply understood: to hold each other, even when forgiveness felt far away, even when their hearts were heavy with grief. Because love, even in its most fractured form, was a lifeline neither of them could bear to sever.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

Fin <3

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario #agatha harkness x rio vidal #mcu #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader

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angelicsjn · 3 months ago

Note

how would yanderes react if reader broke up with them? Like completely moved their stuff out and blocked them etc

YOUR SEVEN YANDERES.

A N: Hey, hey. I'm going through all my old requests first, so newer ones will be posted last. I want to hopefully get rid of all the old requests!

A B O U T: You leave the boys.

W A R N I N G S: Angst, the boys being their usual stalkerish and obsessive selves, Jae being Jae... the usual.

— ROMAN BEAUREGARD.

For a second, Roman feels at a loss. His entire life is perfect. Why would you ruin it? Your whole life was made just by being on his arm. Why sacrifice a life of comfort?

He expects you to come back for the first few days, keeping his usual tabs on you, and when he realises that you're happier without him; he's distraught.

How can you live as if you never met? Free and smiling? Why don't you feel how he does?

He keeps his cool. Of course, he does. He doesn't mind going back to square one. He's perfected the definition of patience, and he has it. He will use it.

He will leave you alone, create a false sense of freedom, and slowly come back into your life acting as if nothing ever happened, and since time has passed, you think, "maybe things can be different this time?" Because he seems different.

He's just a good actor. You should have remembered that.

— LATEN REED.

Laten is genuinely devastated. He doesn't understand why. Did you find his little box of memories? No way. He hid it too well.

Was he too much? Too touchy? Too talkative? Did his friends annoy you?

He questions everything in his head until it goes numb.

When he sees you on campus smiling and hanging out with your friends, like you didn't up and leave him, he feels like he's going to go insane.

"Why did you do it?" He asks you, his voice dead against the night sky as you hurry your way back to your place.

Honestly, it's kind of scary. Just you two, in the dark, his huge body and glittering eyes as he pins you down with just his words.

He won't let you leave until you speak. Actually, no. He won't let you leave at all.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

"The fucking audacity." Is all he says before quite literally trashing the place.

He's pissed off, beyond pissed off. In that moment, he doesn't give a fuck about his idol image.

He will post indirects. Mask himself up and stalk the streets to find you.

He sees you at a club, reconnecting with your friends after months of nothing — thanks to him.

As your friends slink away to get more drinks, he slides into the booth, "what the fuck are you doing?"

You can run, but you can't hide. You can't tell anyone, even if you do, nobody will believe you.

He's NIKO. He can do no wrong.

— KAIDAN WOLFE.

Kaidan will wait for you until it the fans notice your absence. When he reads the comments of a potential breakup, it sinks in.

He messages your friends and family, they love him. He's the sweetest guy ever. They feel bad for him.

You're in the wrong. How dare you just... leave? He did everything for you. You were everywhere to him. You ARE everything to him.

He and your family pretty much guilt trip you into going back to him...

"Awh, y/n, I'm so glad you're with him, still. He's perfect for you." They don't even see the obsession behind his pretty eyes.

— HAYDEN WEST.

There's actually no logical reason to leave someone like Hayden. But he believes otherwise.

There's better looking, funnier, smarter, taller, and generally just better guys.

Of course you'd leave. He expected it at some point, no matter how hard he'd try. Fuck, he'd even start going to the gym for you.

This man doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. Nothing. He's genuinely heartbroken.

Out of all of the yanderes, he's the most realistic and upset. He doesn't even want to see how you're doing without him.

Honestly, you'd go back to him on your own accord because you actually miss being around him.

— JOSHUA WHITE.

Joshua believes that God will reward him with your presence again — in fact, the man prays on it.

Maybe you need a break. A place to breathe. He understands. Life is hard and confusing.

He watches over you at all times, it's okay. He knows you'll come back.

He will leave 'signs' around for you, just little things to slightly drive you insane.

At first, it's, 'Oh. That's Joshua's favourite drink.' To, 'Okay. This is weird.'

When he sees your eyes lock onto his, he knows that his prayers have been answered.

He's calm in this situation. He knows that you are for him. Only him.

— BLAKE CROSS.

"What the.." He mumbles, looking around the villa. You're gone. Like. Gone.

And fuck, is this man angry.

"They took everything, dad! Fucking everything!" He shouts down the phone, his dad on the other end. "Tell Lawson to find their last whereabouts, send it right over."

This man will follow you to the ends of the literal earth, literally. He will not give up. He's relentless.

But he's so sweet with it. He's so convincing. A sweet smile with his dimples, his eyes big and adoring, "Come on. One chance. Let's go to Monaco, just us. You know how much I love you."

You ended up having the best weekend of your life. He made sure of it. You're never leaving him. <3

#darling reader #darlingcore #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling

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msmiseryxoxo · 4 months ago

Text

he holds me in his arms, it’s no good

rick grimes x fem!reader

🎧 American Tradition- Nicole Dollanganger

Rick Grimes takes you in after the fall of Woodbury. Having lost everyone, you form a special relationship with the man. After the virus shakes the group, The governor comes back with a vengeance. You flee with Rick. As you get closer with him, you want him to see your relationship very differently.

4.7k (sorry)

Disclaimer and A/N- Some canon divergence. carl is fine but let’s just say he is with michonne until they reconnect. Judith is fine too. A bit of angst. This idea came to me in a dream!!! Not proofread

CW and Tags- Angst, age gap ( reader is in her early 20s) unprotected p in v, fingering, Loss of virginity, a lot of intimacy,, protective soft rick who is a bit reluctant,loss of loved ones ( mentioned) trauma bonding, cute nicknames,can’t think of any more lol

It’s a cool Georgia morning. The stomp of Rick’s boots makes the leaves sound extra crunchy. Cicadas hidden in the trees chirp as the two of you scavenge for shelter. It’s been 3 days since the destruction of the prison. As you and Rick walk along a highway, your hands interlock your hand in his hand.

As far as being in the apocalypse goes, you’ve had it pretty easy. You’ve always had somewhere to go, and people to rely on. You were in college when everything started, states away from your family. You’ll realize early on that you’d never see them again, and disturbingly, you tried to forget them altogether. This path of thinking was clearly unhealthy, you knew, but this entire situation was dysfunctional and not ideal, to say the very least.

You were at Woodbury for a while. You were eternally glad and gracious, because you knew if you went out into the outside world, you would die immediately. You couldn’t shoot a gun, the thought of running made you ill. After the fall of Woodbury, Rick Grimes and his group in the prison took you in. As you always fit a domestic role, Hershel taught you to plant and raise pigs. You would spend your early mornings and afternoons tending to the pigs, and hanging out with Rick.

The two of you would talk about mundane things, the movies you used to like, the weather, and how fast the pigs were growing. You saw the glimpses of his troubled nature here and there, but he was really trying. That's all he could do, was try. He put in effort to be a good father to Carl and Judith.

On one particularly hot night, the two of you bare your soul to one another. You were feeling particularly sad because it was a hot and humid afternoon, you were sticky all over and covered in bug bites. It was late summer, the time of year when the outbreak had started. While digging a hole to plot a new plant, heavy glops of tears ran down your face, and small sniffles were let out. You had your face in your hands, as tears fell into the planter. Rick has been watering the plants, whistling. Rustling around, he didn’t notice your soft cries, at first. And when he did, he immediately dropped the watering tin and jogged to you.

Hey, hey what’s going on? what happened, you alright sweetheart?” He showed great concern in the tone of his voice, looking tentatively into your eyes, as you tried to wipe your tears away with your sleeve. Pulling you in for a hug, you’re hit with his dusty musk, his scent grounding you, calming your nerves. You shiver under him as he holds your head in his forearms and hands.

“ I don know if it's any consolation, but m always he’re for you.” He says ever so softly. He places his lips, softly, on the top of your head.

You manage to let out a hushed “ thank you” into his shoulder.

He whispers an “ anytime” while still holding you. It's more intimate than anything you've ever done. His forearms, muscular and defined, entangle you lightly. An unspoken bond was formed, and your understanding of each other was taken to a new level. You continue to sniffle into his linen-lined shoulder.

You two were like that for a while. Touch had begun to be a rare commodity in the end times so you cherished it with every moment you had. A simple high five had left your hand with a stinging aftershock.

The air around you two shifted, and you began to see him differently. He obviously caught your eye even before you said one word to him, but the feeling was starting to be mutual.

Rick was at war with himself. His wife had just passed, he had a baby daughter to look out for and this wasn’t necessarily the time for a crush on a girl decades younger than him. But he couldn’t deny how you made him laugh at the silliest things, and how you scared the devil out of him when you clumsily fell or scraped your knee. You simultaneously make him anxious, and tranquil. The very sight of you gives him relief, makes him forget his situation.

The two of you sit down on the grass. He grasps your hand as you spill out what's wrong.

“ Uhh. I dunno. Guess I've just been feeling weird lately. The weather makes me feel sad. Reminds me when it first happened. Last time I spoke with any of my family members it was months before the outbreak. I never kept in contact. I really regret that, should have.” Your voice steady now that you feel a breeze coming in. You pull out patches of grass in pinches.

“ ts alright. I got in a fight with Lori, that was the last time I saw her until I woke up from my coma” He explains and smiles, looking ahead at the prison, the rays of red sunlight illuminating his face. You swear he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, comparative to a painting.

You never wanted to ask him about her, you’ve only heard whispers of the man’s wife. You didn’t want to think about that, and you didn’t want to think about Rick thinking about her.

He gets up and offers his hand. “C'mon, lets go wash up” As he walks you to the prison, you rest your head on his shoulder.

That was a few weeks before the virus. It was hard to be in the dark if any of the people you began to bond with were alive, close to dying, or not.

Then the governor came back. Gunshots rang around the prison. Your shoulders hung up with fear as Rick approaches the governor's army. Hershel is killed. You grab a gun and shoot whoever is charging at you. Rick catches you and yells for you to run. A blur you could hardly remember. Flashes of quick movements feel like forever, until Rick grabs your hand.

The two of you escape through a fence, as Rick watches Carl run with Michonne.

Rick couldn’t think of anything right now, except for protecting you. He knew Michonne and Carl would be safe with one another, all he needed to pay attention to was you. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight.

Traveling for days on end without a sign of a safe shelter began to take a toll on both of you, especially Rick. He didn’t know when he would see his son or his newborn daughter. He still had to bring you to safety, figure out the next course of action.

The only thing he had to calm the storm was you. He was glad that it was you that he ran with. Your protection and safety were the thing driving him, he needed you just as much as you needed him. To pass the time, the two of you would whistle and hum and sing your favorite songs. You’d began to sing “Take Me Home, Country Roads” while practically skipping.

“Hey slow down, kid, can’t keep up with ya” He chuckles while jokingly warning you.

“I'll stop if you sing with me” you giggle, as you find solace in constant moments of distress.

His eyebrows furrow and he scoffs. He starts singing, horribly so, to get you to stop skipping.

A peace of mind was needed. You come across the library hidden in the trees near a country club. Rick looks at you spotting it, as you try not to mention it. You know it’s probably run with walkers, and it’s not a good idea to go.

“Let’s check this out. We won’t be long but maybe they have a couple things” He sternly points out. “That okay with you?” his drawl comes out a bit at the end of the question. You give him a slight smile and a nod.

“Good” He takes your hand and as a force of habit, you look both ways while crossing the street.

“You don’t have to do that, you know that doll?” He giggles. The two of you giggle too much in the apocalypse.

“ I know but I kinda want to,” you explain to him.

He looks down at you and softly whispers, “You’re like sunshine,” You can barely hear what he says, but based on the stoic expression on his face, you probably shouldn’t ask him to repeat.

The two of you stroll to the library while Rick checks for walkers. You’ve only ever killed a handful, but you know you needed to be useful so you had your hand on your knife holster.

He holds the door open for you and gives you the all-clear. With a gun in his hand, he scans the place for walkers, listening for any low groans. He puts his gun back when he doesn’t see any. A hand caresses your back as he motions for you to go ahead.

You wander the adult fiction section of the library. The books on the shelf are collecting dust, which makes you quite sad. You browse the A section and come across Sense and Sensibility, one of your favorites. Rick comes up behind you.

“ Hey, can I take this?” You look up at him.

“ Yeah, of course, take whatever you want sweetheart” He whispers. You swoon at the use of his pet name and get embarrassed at yourself for it. It’s horrible that you smile at every interaction you have with him, but you know he doesn’t think of you like that. It would be silly to think otherwise. You shove your feelings down and feel something turn in your gut.

He walks over to the T section and grabs a copy of The Hobbit.

You scan the employee break room find gauze in a first aid kit and decide to put it in your backpack.

“Alright, let’s get outta here. I think I see a neighborhood some way” He says again in a low tone.

You tiptop in front of him as he moves his gun around looking for walkers while exiting. You walk in each other's silence while on your journey to a simple house without any walkers nearby. He offers you some peanuts out of a pack he found in the library. You take them.

You and Rick settle in. It’s homey and has no residents, so it’s absolutely perfect. You take your boots off to make minimal noise, as you roam and try not to make creaks on the wooden floor.

“Be careful, yeah?” Rick settles on the couch, body spread out, stifling a groan. The image of him laid out like that is almost pornographic. He licks his lips, his shirt is lifted up a bit and you can see his defined biceps, hands on top of his head, his stomach peaking out. You close your eyes for a second and imagine yourself sitting at his feet, hands on his thigh while he pets your head. You shake the image immediately and roam upstairs.

All of the bedrooms are intact. You walk into what seems like the primary bedroom. You descend down the stairs to alert Rick and give him the all-clear. He is peacefully asleep and silent. You walk over to him and grab his jacket. A hand plays with his hair softly, as you admire his sheer beauty. The shape of his nose, his pale piercing eyes, and his dark coiled hair.

You settle down on a rickety old chair, watching over him as he rests, draping his jacket over you like a warm blanket. All you can think about is how grateful you are to have Rick here. It truly was the best-case scenario, him with you. You watch him sleep peacefully as you beam at the image of Rick finally resting.

While fast asleep, Rick could feel your eyes on him and moves his mouth in a slight twitch. The only reason that he’s able to close his eyes is because you’re there. His little angel. You read your book as the light peaking through the window begins to dwindle, and the air gets cooler. He wakes up after a couple of pages. He sluggishly gets up and gives you a sleepy smile with half-shut eyes. You offer him water you filtered while camping out in the forest. He thanks you for the water while guzzling it down, water dripping down his chin, he wipes it all over. You tell him that you saw some board game upstairs in the main bedroom. He follows you up.

The both of you settle on the bed, sitting up. He can’t stop staring at you, like he’s about to devour you. You walk over to a small bookshelf holding Connect Four, monopoly, and a deck of playing cards.

“What do you want to play?” You ask considerately.

“Uh… your pick” He runs his hands over his hair.

You take out the deck of cards, looking at it tentatively.

“Ya know I've never played any card games”

He clears his throat and responds. “Really, well we’ll start real simple. Uh, let’s play War. It’s easy, you’re a smart girl so you’ll catch on quick,” he chuckles.

You’re on the edge of the bed near the bed frame, you take the deck out of its case. He leans in closer to you as you inhale his musk. You hand him the cards as your eyes linger on his hands.

“ Alright so here’s what we do. So basically,” You do not pay attention to what he’s saying. A nod is given, you say that you get it and you’re ready to play. To be quite honest, you don’t care about the game. All you really want is to pounce on him.

Surprisingly, Rick catches on. He sighs, “We don’t have to play if you don’t want to. Looks like you clocked out” He gives you a slight smile.

“Nah, I want to but I got something on my mind, it’s really nothing,” Your gaze shifts to the wooden floor.

“Well spill, this a good time as any,” Southern definitely drawn.

“ Well, when we were in the prison, before the virus, before the governor, that stretch of time where everything was fine and felt like normal?” He nods along. “ I used to crush on this guy. It was pretty bad, I knew he didn’t like me like that. But god, he was enigmatic. He was so dignified yet so sweet and caring.” You’re overwhelmed. And a liar.

“Anyway, I shouldn’t be thinking about him in that way. Wrong guy, wrong time to feel that way about anyone.” You sniffle.

Rick is absolutely clueless. You could tell he was trying to list off all the boys that were around your age.

“ I’m sorry to hear that. He was so stupid to not return those feelings. You’re such a sweet girl. A girl like you deserves the goddamn world. I know it might just be the two of us for a while, but I want to give you that world. It’s you and me ok?” At first, he’s angry at you, it’s irrational he knows. The only man he wants you to think about is him. Then a wave of protectiveness crashes over him. Your eyes begin to sting as his words hit harder. Tears stream out and roll down your cheek, as you let out soft hiccups. His arms grip you so tightly, it seems he might never let go. His warmth spreads all through your body like white hot fire.

“ I never ever want to see you cry like this. It hurts me to see you like this. My heart shatters to pieces when I see you sad, sweetheart.” He pulls away and looks into your eyes while he lectures you. He gently strokes your cheek and wipes your tears away. Your heart rate slows down and you’re grounded. He holds you again, his touch seeming to be familiar now. He’s held you like this before but it’s home now. A deep, disgusting feeling of guilt hits, you despise yourself for lying to him.

“ I have to say something else Rick,” A low whisper.

“Say it then, doll” He whispers back, as you brace yourself.

“Rick. I like you. Not like a friend, not like a daughter. I don’t want you to see me that way. I want to be close to you all of the time, I get weird when I'm not near you. I need you, Rick. But not like that.” your fingers tussle with his belt loops as your eyes wander around the room, down at boots, unable to meet his eyes.

Rick took a second to respond. Inching back, He sighs and runs his hand through his dark curls, conflicted. He pats his thigh, not knowing where to go next. Finally, he replies.

“oh yeah, and how do you like me?” He gazes into your eyes, maintains eye contact while you want to make yourself smaller.

Words can’t seem to come out of your mouth, as all

you can manage to spit out is a “ I.. I..”Rick inches closer to you and begins gently grabbing your arm and placing pecks along your collarbone.

In between kisses, he asks, “is this how you like me sweet girl? Ya need me like this?” he holds your jaw, while he gnaws softly on your lips. you coo out “Oh oh ohs” Hands move up and down your stomach as he grabs your waist.

Your kisses are sloppy and glossy, as he practically inhales you.

“You like me like this huh?” He sets you on your back as he towers on top of you. His knees entangled with your legs, you moan as he keeps kissing your neck. The scruff of his stubble nuzzle into the softness of your neck.

“Baby, I need to ask if you want this, tell me to stop and I'll stop.” He gazed at you for an immediate answer. Of course you want to, you’re hesitant to respond.

“ I-I want to, but i should probably let you know i ain’t never done this before,” You say softly. It’s all new to you. Of course things have happened in college but you’ve never gone that far before.

Rick stops in his tracks. His dick is hard and pressing against your clothed sex. He can’t say no to that shine in your eyes, and the way you clutch onto his arms.

“uhh, alright. I’m gonna take it real nice and slow sweetheart, ok? that alright with you?” He asks with his accent accelerating with the question.

“Okay Rick,” You nod, with a slight expression of worry on your face.

“I’ll make it good for you, don’t worry baby,” He reassures you and seals it by running his calasse-ridden hands down your body then clutches your hand, fingers entangling.

“I trust you.” A shimmer in your eyes.

He descends down the bed, eye level with your pussy, pulling down your shorts, leaving you half naked in your underwear, a wet patch forming. His eyes wide in utter awe, mouth agape at the dark spot at the middle of your panties. He massages your clothed cunt, rubbing in circles to see how you’d react. Quiet, mousy gasps escape your lips.

“Can I take these off sweetpea?” He purrs in a low voice, like honey.

“Of course.” You respond in an eager whisper. He pulls down your underwear and flings them across the room. The two of you smile at this action, your cheeks turning warm from embarrassment, as you hide your face from your hands.

“ Is that all for me?” He strokes your thigh and you nod your head, all doe eyed.He parts your legs open, his hands move up toward the entrance of your sex. A vulnerable feeling creeps up as the hair on your limbs stand up.

“Imma make it even better,yeah sweet girl?” He nibbles at the inside of your thighs.

Arousal settles in the low part of your stomach as he fiddles with the entrance of your pussy. He is excruciatingly slow, building tension.

He palms your exposed sex with his big hand. The cold metal of his wedding ring around his finger is cold against your wet warmth. You don’t think about that, as all you can focus on is the sound of his guttural grunts and shock at your perfect pussy. His pointer and middle finger move in circles around your clit, not entering you just yet. You moan as he slips his ring finger into your plush entrance. You let out a cry as his finger plunges in and out. The sensation of his silver ring against your hot sex adds to the stars you see. He looks to you, wide-eyed, asking for confirmation to add another finger. You nod.

He adds another finger, stretching you out slowly. Sounds of your wet squelch fill the room, along with small squeals and low whispers of “good god” coming from Rick. He didn’t think he could ever make a girl this wet until now.

“You take my fingers so well, baby.” Arousal coils in your core. Your heart pounds as your head feels hazy. He curls his fingers toward your sweet spot, as a scorching sensation of hot waves come over you. His fingers feel your pussy pulse, as the intensity of stimulation increases. Your legs jerk, slightly as you give into pleasure. “Rick, ’m coming.” You breathlessly sob out. A wave of electricity crashes over you, you’ve never came that hard before.

“That’s it, sweet girl, you can come.” He growls. Simultaneously, as he fucks you with his fingers, he brushes his lips up and down your stomach. He finally takes his fingers out of you. The tent in his pants is firm against your pussy. Sweat sticks to your neck and collarbone, as he grabs your chin and kisses you like an old vintage movie. Your eyes closed, arms desperately holding onto his shoulders for dear life. Deep, wet, kisses, lips barely touching, slight brisks of your soft lips against his. Your face is hot as his erection presses deeper against you. A damp patch soaks through his jeans. You slightly grind yourself against his knee, without shame.

“ We can stop here, we don’t have to go all the way,” Rick reassures, with a slight breathless rasp.

“No, no, we can keep going. I want to keep going.” You desperately plead for him not to stop there, in a soft sweet voice.

“Ok. we’re doing this. remember, tell me to stop and I will.” He sternly asserted. He fumbles at his belt, a bit desperate to take it off. The clink and thud of his buckle hardens your nipples and pools arousal in you. You don’t realize that you bit your lip until you taste metallic on your tongue.

He pulls his boots off, along with the rest of his clothing. He gestures to help you pull your shirt up, and you let him.

His cock springs out of his boxers, all pretty and pink, hitting against the low part of his stomach. His length leaks out precum at the tip. He’s pretty well-kept, considering the situation at hand. You bask in the sight of him, his curly pubic hair wild at the base near his heavy balls.

You stare in awe at how gorgeous he is. His beautiful entrancing eyes so pale and blue, his luscious curly hair, his defined arms. You smile up at him and he laughs. You would do anything for him. You would kiss the tip of his boots if he asked, and that’s the problem. Rick lingers on your lips, brushing his fingers against them. He spits on his hand and rubs his length, he does with what he has.

“Gonna be a big stretch, ok baby?” He lines his tip at your entrance. “Alright, here we go.” He slowly stretches you with his thick length, your pussy swallowing him whole. He hisses a groan.

“ Oh God!” You mewled.

“ Ahh fuck baby, you’re so goddamn tight. Gotta pace ourselves.” He mostly says that to remind himself to take it slow, the last thing he does is want to hurt you. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, you’ve been told, and of course maybe it’s a little unpleasant, but Rick's touch and the earthy scent of him is intoxicating. You feel full, like you were each other’s missing piece to the puzzle.

He isn’t even halfway in, and you’re doubting your own ability to take all of it. He cradles your head, his fingers sprawled over the side of your face.

“Mmm, so feels full” You sob out.

“ I know honey, I know.” He coos at you. He starts thrusting in and out at a slow pace as you acclimate to this full feeling. You're so wet, your pussy resists and almost pushes him out, but he’s so huge and you're so tight, his cock is almost stuck. Lewd sounds of him pounding sweet juices leaking out of you.

Your fingers clutch the bedding, your hot all over.

“ Feels so good baby, God this pussy is gonna drive me crazy.” His voice sweet and heavy like honey.

“mmhmm” You’re already quite fucked out, and you can’t seem to think about anything but him. Him, him, him. You buck, signaling for him to go deeper.

His strokes get sloppier as he moans into your ear. He mumbles low “I love you I love yous” continuously as he kisses you all over your cheek. His calm, daddy demeanor unravels as your walls continue to spasm and flutter against his cock.

In the heat of the moment, you aren’t totally sure if he really means it. The two of you have shown affection, the evidence supports what he says.

“You really mean it? You love me?” You whimper, gazing straight into his eyes. His tip kisses your cervix, but you feel nothing but utter bliss.

“ More than fucking anything.” He enunciates each world with a thrust. He’s close, you could feel it in his rapid strokes and in the way his arms hold onto you for sweet release.

“Rick I’m so close please” You plead for him to go deeper, faster.

“I know honey, I feel it.” He says through gritted teeth, pumping in and out of you. He gently rubs the sides of your lower belly, as he drills into you, the both of you feel crashs of euphoria.

“Cum on my cock, that’s it baby ,” Rick groans out, as your pussy convulses against him. His cock stays in as you feel him twitch around you, he leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead.

He pulls out, asking you if you want it on your stomach. You nod as you look through your eyelashes. He’s on his knees now, jerking his cock, cum spurting out on your stomach, He closes his eyes and groans out. He moves off the bed and grabs a shirt folded onto a chair, wiping his release off of your stomach.

He jumps back on to bed next to you, as you bask in each others presence, bed creaking in response. He looks to you, almost studying the structure of your face. You turn to him, running your hands through his hair.

“ Thank you. for, well, doing that. I liked it a lot.” You giggle. He giggles in response, rubbing his temples.

“Any time. Well maybe not, but we should do this again.” He gazes at you and smirks . Still half naked, he opens his mouth to say something, he hesitates.

“ Ya know what I said, I mean it. I meant it when you came crying to me. I love you and I need you. I know you think you can’t live without me, but I can’t live without you. can’t imagine it sweetheart.” The scruff of his beard scratches your chin as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. You curl up against his chest, breathing in his musk. You drift off into his the tight hold of his arms, feeling as if he’ll never let go, and you’re ok with that.

ty for reading!! not stoked about how this turned about but wtv

dont ask me how long this was in the drafts for….

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes prompt #dilfism #the walking dead #twd #rick grimes smut #twd season 4 #rick grimes angst

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simplyhughes · 2 months ago

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You’re My Girl - WS2

Synopsis: Childhood crush confession typa beat?!??

Warnings: none, just fluff lol and shit writing

AN: so sorry this is literally trash… but i love my smitty 🥹!! ALSO REQUESTS ARE OPENNNN!!

I’ve known Will Smith since before we could even walk. Our fathers were best friends from college, a friendship that felt like it was meant to last. After years apart, they reconnected by chance in a small Michigan town, both of them with young families and memories of shared adventures. It wasn’t long before they picked up right where they’d left off, as if the years between had been nothing more than a short pause. Weekends, barbecues, and game nights became routine, and before long, our families practically blended into one.

Our mothers bonded just as effortlessly. By the time Will and I were born, just two months apart, it was already decided that we’d grow up together. Each family felt like an extension of the other. We celebrated every holiday together, and we even had Christmas stockings at each other’s homes, as if we were siblings rather than best friends.

From the start, Will and I were inseparable. When my mom worked, his mom watched us both, and vice versa. It felt natural to grow up side by side, learning and exploring together.

Now here we are in our first year of college. Will committed to Boston College while I stayed in Michigan. It was very hard adjusting to life without him. Yet out distance didn’t stop us from texting every day.

We are now on holiday break, both back at the Smiths’ residence. Will sat next to me on the plush couch in his basement, the TV flashing the bright colors of whatever video game he was obsessed with this month. In a comfy pair of sweatpants and a Boston College hoodie, his eyes darted all over the screen. We were only a few inches apart as I lay against the pillow, wrapped in a fluffy white blanket, mindlessly scrolling on Instagram reels.

The screen flashed with Will’s loss, and he tossed the controller onto the pillow beside him. I chuckled, looking up from my phone.

“You suck,” I laughed.

“Ain’t no way you’re talking,” he retorted, shifting his gaze from the screen onto me. I felt his eyes on me, so I looked up from my phone.

“Hey,” Will said softly.

“Hi,” I replied, matching his tone.

“You know, I miss you when I’m gone…” he admitted.

“I miss you too, Will. It’s not the same without you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I get some of that blanket?” He nudged the white fluff that was draped over me. I lifted up the end closest to him, signaling for him to come closer. His body weight shifted the couch, pulling both of us deeper into it. I felt my heartbeat quicken, thudding against my chest. Our faces were only a foot apart. Will flung his arm around the back of the couch behind my shoulders.

“Getting comfy, huh?” I finally spoke.

“I’m always comfy when I’m with you,” he replied.

“You talk to all your Boston chicks like that too?” I joked. Will tossed his head back and chuckled.

“Y/N, you’re the only girl I think about,” he muttered, a sly smirk forming across his face. The smirk didn’t match the nervous fidgeting of his fingers.

“Huh?” I questioned.

Will just kept looking at me and shrugged. He lowered his body, positioning himself so that his head rested comfortably on my shoulder. His hand clasped the remote, switching the HDMI off his game and onto Netflix. My hand somehow found its way into his blonde curls, scratching softly at his scalp.

“I could get used to this,” Will hummed. “I wish I could take you back to Boston with me.”

“But what would happen when you go to California?” I asked.

“I’d take you there too.”

“What’s with the separation anxiety?” I chuckled.

“I don’t know. You’re my girl, what can I say?”

My face flushed a deep pink. He probably didn’t mean it the way I hoped, but I couldn’t help but wonder. He tilted his head, looking up at me, his eyes wide.

“You hear me?” Will said.

“Y-yeah, I heard you.”

“I want you to be my girl, Y/N.”

“I am, Will. I have been for 18 years.”

“No, I mean, like, my… girlfriend.”

My hand cupped his cheek. For a moment, I couldn’t believe this was happening. And surely, I couldn’t believe what I did next. I mimicked my other hand, cupping his other cheek, and sealed the gap between us. I pressed a kiss against his lips, holding it for a second.

“William, I wish you’d told me this sooner.”

#simplyhughes #simplyhughesblurb #will smith nhl x reader #will smith nhl imagine #will smith hockey x reader #will smith nhl #will smith x reader #will smith imagine #will smith hockey #will smith imagines #san jose sharks

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lowkeyerror · 4 months ago

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Chasing Extinction

Wednesday Addams x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Ch. Notes: Multiple parts, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, aged-up characters, potential ooc Wednesday, blood, lmk if I missed anything

Summary: As a child, loss showed you how disappointing humanity could be. As a teen you learned the importance of relationships. As an adult you learn how uncomforting success can feel. It's not until reconnecting with Wednesday in order to try save the Vampire race that you finally feel real purpose, direction, and romance. (BASED ON THIS)

An: ... Chat I couldn’t wait I'm sorry it needed be let free so here is part one. There will be another part at a date in the near future. Hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Also at the bottom of fic is the symbol mentioned if you want a visual aid.

Series Masterlist

At heart you were a skeptic. The world was bleak, and you refused to place your hope into it. That ideology alone saved you from emotional weaknesses time and time again. You didn’t believe in people, as you learned at an early age, the only thing people were proficient at was causing disappointment.

Your mother and father loved you in their own ways. You remember tender touches from your mother, a caregiver at heart. She was always so careful with you, fearful that you might break.

Your father kept a lot of his emotions to himself. You rarely had a grasp on the kind of individual he was, but you knew his embrace was filled with warmth. You’d like to think all of the things he didn’t know how to say, he conveyed with a hug.

You loved your parents, but humanity did not. They were afraid of what they could not understand. All they saw was a group of monsters: Vampires that were a threat to them and their families. Their motivations didn’t matter to you. They had orphaned you without any hesitation. In that moment you learned disappointment.

After the loss of your parents, you were placed with your aunt. Your mother’s younger sister, perhaps too young to raise a child. She tried her best with you, but it was hard. Neither of you were quite certain of the roles to play in each other’s lives. She was a skeptic too, a woman who trusted no one, but herself. All she could do was instill in you her way of thinking.

She taught you about the dangers of attachment. Life had a way of being of cruel, according to her. She taught you how to protect yourself, not only with your hands, but with your brain. Without her there was a chance that you wouldn’t have survived the way you had.

It was easy to be skeptical when you were alone. When there weren’t many people like yourself around it was easy to not trust anyone. It was harder at Nevermore.

The school was filled with outcasts. People who could relate to being mistreated by society. On a more intimate scale, there were other Vampires at the school.

It was the first time you realized just how many of you there were. It was also the first time you realized how lonely you were.

You weren’t a social person by any means. The other Vampires learned that quickly. The only person who didn’t seem to mind was your roommate, Yoko. While others pushed to discover the workings of your personality, Yoko didn’t.

Her indifference eventually piqued your interest after months of harassment from the others. You let yourself question her one night in your dorm.

“Do you not care to know anything about me?”

She put her phone down before answering you, “Are you suddenly in the mood to share?”

“You’re the only person here that hasn’t tried to pry into the details of my personal affairs,” you deflect slightly.

“Here, it’s easy for some people to forget how cruel the outside world can be to us. They forget that our lives are at risk in most places. I know what it can be like out there and I understand what that can mean. So, I get why you're not so eager to share, it’s probably not anything you want to remember.”

Her words resonate deeply with you. It was like they were pulling something inside of you that made you want to tell her. It was the first time you felt that way, so you listened, “When I was a child, my parents were killed by the normies. I learned then that people couldn’t be trusted. Putting trust in others only leads to disappointment. After my parents died, my aunt became my legal guardian. She reinforced my beliefs and in part, is the reason why I’m not too keen on socializing.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

There was a pause. Something in her tone told you she had more to say. You didn’t know if it would be beneficial to continue the conversation, but you had already made it this far.

“You wish to say something else?”

She didn’t answer immediately, “Would your parents want you to experience a life without any companions? Living with no one to trust and no one to rely on sounds miserable. Especially when you consider how long we live. You may not understand it now, but finding the right people is usually worth the disappointments it takes to get them.”

You ponder on her words. The memories you had of your parents played in the back of your mind.

“I suppose that makes sense,” you spoke softly.

“Not everyone can be your friend, but that doesn’t make them all your enemy.”

You nod in understanding, “I’d like to call you a friend, Yoko.”

For a long while Yoko Tanaka was your only friend. She was popular amongst your peers, meaning being around her outside of the dorm meant being around her friends. She gently pushed you to socialize a bit more. While you weren’t exactly an open book some of Yoko’s friends became your friends.

Enid was a bit much initially. You didn’t judge her energy or the bright colors. She was a very vibrant person, which you had to get used to. Underneath all of that excitement, Enid was one of the most caring people you had ever met. It seemed to be second nature for her to care about the people around her. She was fiercely protective of her friends and that included you. You trusted her the same way you trusted Yoko.

“I wish you'd let me paint your nails just once, Vampy.”

You and Yoko were situated in Enid’s room for a sleepover. The blonde was currently painting your roommate’s nails. She had been trying to persuade you for a while. You always declined her offers.

“I don't like it when you call me that. If you agree to retire that name, I will let you paint my nails,” you sighed internally, preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

Enid let out a squeal of excitement, quickly abandoning Yoko to get closer to you. Her hand reached for yours without hesitation. She began analyzing your nails, her file ready in the other hand.

“What’s your favorite color Vam- Y/n?”

The immediate slip up made you laugh a bit, “Red, dark red like-”

“A blood bag, very cliché Y/n,” Yoko interjected.

Enid glared at the other Vampire, “Yoko don't ruin this moment. This is the first personal thing Y/n had shared with me.”

“It’s just a color,” Yoko argued back.

Enid shook her head dramatically, “No, it’s Y/n’s favorite color.”

Yoko looked at you with her eyebrow raised, “Would you tell our pup another piece of information so she could let this color thing go?”

You think for a moment, trying to find something about yourself that you think Enid would be satisfied with.

“My birthday is in February.”

“O-M-G, are you an Aquarius or a Pisces? I totally get Aquarius vibes from you. Things are starting to make a whole lot of sense. I wonder if our signs are compatible for friendship. Do you have Costar? You should download Costar.”

She rambled on about horoscopes until she finished your nails. After that she took your phone and downloaded Costar, making sure to send herself a friend request.

The only other person you made a connection with at Nevermore was Wednesday Addams. In some ways she reminded you of yourself. She was very intelligent and very private. Wednesday wasn’t someone who loved being the center of attention, she just often found herself at it. Her pride would not allow her to run from it.

It wasn't something that was outwardly apparent, but Wednesday was an adventurer. She craved a challenge, which she would never find in a schoolbook. Wednesday needed a case to crack.

“Have you ever thought of getting revenge on the people who murdered your parents?”

“Wednesday! You can’t just ask her-”

You cut Enid off, “Sometimes, but it wasn’t just one person. It was an angry mob, so I’d have to find them all first.”

“Finding them sounds like child’s play. I could probably do it in an afternoon,” Wednesday offered up her services.

You shook your head, “I wouldn't feel vindicated. Even if I killed them all, it wouldn't be enough. They robbed me of something truly priceless.”

You kept your eyes focused on the window. Watching students engage with each other on campus. The question created a thick emptiness in your mind.

You didn’t see the way Enid glared at her roommate. Nor did you see the slight displeasure on Wednesday’s face as realized her question was potentially insensitive.

Enid was careful to wrap her arms around you from behind. You tore your gaze from the window to turn into her arms. Enid had deciphered some time into your friendship that you preferred physical contact when it came to being comforted.

“My question was inappropriate, forgive me,” Wednesday spoke flatly.

Enid let go of you, getting ready to unleash a hurricane of words onto the girl in black.

“I think it’s quite thoughtful of you actually.”

“Huh, how?” Enid questions.

You look into Wednesday’s dark eyes, “That was Wednesday’s way of offering to help me get revenge on the people who wronged me most in life. It was a friendly gesture.”

Wednesday looked away from your intense gaze.

“Oh, I get it now. That’s sweet of you Wends, we’ll practice on the delivery next time,” Enid’s mood did a 180.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, “There is nothing sweet about me. I was just trying to put my expertise to use. I beat Crackstone and the stalker, I’ve been terribly bored lately.”

Wednesday and Enid went back and forth for a while. You simply watched the converse once again getting lost in thought. Your eyes scanned the raven-haired girl. Your mind wandered to places it had never explored before.

Yoko had explained crushes to you before. It was in simple terms; terms that felt too simple for the strength of the feeling. It was an intense yearning that you fought against at every opportunity. Having a crush on Wednesday sounded like something trivial, a waste of time.

You knew how the girl felt about romance. She wasn’t interested in it; in fact, the thought repulsed her. Yet as you learned from Yoko, you don’t get to choose. The feelings act on their own with disregard for social etiquette.

You valued your friendship with Wednesday and did not wish to ruin it with your romantic feelings. So, you promised yourself to never reveal them.

“What are your plans after graduation, Y/n?”

The question from Enid abruptly removed you from your own thoughts, “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Does nothing interest you?” Wednesday let some genuine curiosity slip through.

You shrugged, “What is the monetization of an interest, if not the death of a hobby? There are many things I enjoy, but finding my life’s work has proven to be quite difficult.”

Enid was excited to chime in with her opinion, “I think you could be a writer, like Wednesday. You’re into classical music too, maybe a composer?”

“You have been more than competent as a detective during our investigations,” Wednesday gave you a rare compliment.

“I enjoy all those things, but how do I know if they’re worth pursuing? What if I’m not successful at any of them?”

“I loathe this expression, but perhaps it will be useful to you. You must ‘follow your dreams'. If you are passionate about something, you can use that to push yourself to successful heights. Success is not unilateral; it looks different for everyone. Though in the eyes of the law my investigations are fraudulent, I count them as successes because I know I solved those cases. I simply do not care what they have to say, because I know the truth.”

You reflected on her words before a sly smile took over your features, “If I got a bestseller before you would you take it personally?”

“Competition fosters creativity.”

-Many Years Later-

You wrote under a pseudonym. At first it was to hide your shame if you became a failure. As you began to garner an audience you kept it to sustain your private life. Much to your surprise you actually did make the bestseller list. In fact, you made it multiple times. Wednesday had still gotten there first. Her semi-autobiographical tales of Viper De La Muerte were beloved by many.

It turns out she was right when she said that competition fosters creativity. It seemed as if the two of you were always battling for that number one spot on the list.

Lately you have found yourself in a creative slump. There are too many distractions around, you can’t put pen to paper like you need to.

“I think I want to go out of town.”

You sit across from your aunt, while the two of you eat dinner.

“Where?”

You sigh, “I’m thinking about renting a cabin for a few months. I need to focus on my writing, and I can't do that here.”

“Y/n our numbers are dwindling, and you want to go live alone in the forest? What if something happens to you?”

You knew that this was an inevitable conversation, “Amdis I’ve already booked the cabin. It’s not too far from Yoko, so if anything goes wrong, she’ll be able to help me.”

The woman’s eyes flare red, “And what of the murders?”

“Conspiracy often plagues-”

She cuts you off, “You know better than anyone else that there is no conspiracy when it comes to the hate in the heart of humanity. Did you forget what happened to your parents?”

Her comment causes you to slam your fist down and rise from your seat, “Don’t you dare make such claims. I carry their loss with me in every step I walk, I see them when I look into the mirror, I hear them when I speak. How can I forget them, when I carry a scar, which lets me know that I should’ve lost my life with them?”

“Y/n I-"

“Just as no one came to save my parents. It’s impossible for me to save our people. I can’t live my life in fear of death because that’s not what they would’ve wanted!”

Your eyes burn into the woman. It was as if there was lightening storming behind your red irises.

Amdis relents, “I’m not saying that I expect you to save everyone kid. I just want you to be mindful of what is happening to people like us. The hunters are getting out of control, and the only safety we have right now is in numbers. I can’t stand to lose any more family.”

You sit back down. The gravity of your aunts words weighs heavily on you. You take a moment to see her not as your aunt, but as a person. The woman who lost her older sister, who could’ve denied you entry into her life. She was 18 and suddenly tasked with taking care of a 9-year-old. She had done everything for you, sacrificed so much to be the person you needed her to be.

“I know, I’m sorry for being inconsiderate. Your worry means everything to me. It’s just- this is something that I must do. You taught me how to protect myself, now I must ask you to trust that I've retained that knowledge.”

“You’ll check in with me every few days. If you miss a single day, I’m coming out there,” her tone stays stern, but you begin to smile.

“Understood.”

Yoko picked you up from the airport and offered to take you up to the cabin.

“How’ve you been bestseller?”

You sigh, “Uninspired.”

Yoko laughs, “I was hoping to hear about something outside of your career.”

You search for something to share, “My life is only divided into two categories my career and people I care about. Enid’s been sending me a lot of recipes lately; she said she wants to make me some blood brownies.”

“The brownies are fucking delicious; you should definitely take her up on that.”

You nod starkly, “Maybe I’ll host a little get together once I’m settled in and have gotten enough work done.”

The other Vampire nods, “You could invite me, and I'll of course bring Divina, Enid will bring the brownies, and last but not least Wednesday.”

“She’s probably busy being a modern day, more fashionable version of Sherlock Holmes. If she’s not doing that then she’s for sure drafting a book about it.”

Yoko shakes her head in disbelief, “And you’ve still got that teenage crush on her.”

“I do not.”

Yoko plays along, “Fine, then how’s your dating life?”

You blink a few times, “I have yet to find a substantial partner that piques my interest or matches my drive."

“Because you aren’t looking for anyone that doesn’t have the name Wednesday Addams.”

You roll your eyes, “Give it a rest Yoko. We both know that Wednesday doesn’t wish for romance.”

Yoko quirks an eyebrow, “Is that so? I’ve heard otherwise from Enid.”

“What do you mean?” The words spill quickly from your mouth. You try to regain some of your nonchalance, but Yoko sees right through you.

“I mean Enid has told me that Wednesday has had many romantic encounters. Passionate love affairs, burning romances, quick flings, you name it she’s experienced it."

You feel your jaw clench at the information, “Good for her.”

“Don’t be upset little bat. I also know that they never last. Enid tells me that none of them really understand Wednesday. They think they can change her, but-”

“Wednesday doesn’t change for anybody.”

Yoko agrees, “Precisely. Wednesday’s affections are often lackluster to many people. Some want grand gestures and proclamations, but that just isn't her vibe you know?”

“I know.”

The trail to the cabin isn’t too far into the woods. Yoko was able to park right in front of it. It was a cozier looking space than you had originally thought. The cabin was big but packed with well-loved furniture and knick-knacks. The most important accommodations for you were the TV, and internet.

Yoko helped you bring in your things and unpack.

“Ok, I’m going to visit every Friday.”

“You don’t have to check up on me,” you tell her.

She pulls you in for a hug, “I know, but it’s nice to have you around. It would be weird to know you’re less than an hour away and not come to visit.”

“You’re worried,” you mumble into her shoulder.

Her hand caresses the back of your head, “A lot of us have been going missing lately. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“You sound like Amdis."

Yoko’s voice is soft, “Your aunt has every right to be worried. Call her, let her know you made it. I’ll text you when I get home.”

With one more squeeze Yoko exits the cabin leaving you alone. The quiet washes over the area and you let out a large breath.

Your eyes drift over to the typewriter you brought. Usually, you author your stories on your laptop, but you brought the typewriter to draw extra inspiration.

Before you attempt to write, you call your aunt like Yoko instructed. By the time the call ended Yoko had texted you that she made it home safely.

You sat in front of the typewriter just thinking. The pressure was building. There was a finality in writing on a typewriter that wasn't there when you worked digitally. You’re somewhat forced to be more intentional with your words. Which was the main rain you had brought it in the first place.

It feels like forever before you type your fist sentence. Slowly, but surely you begin finding a rhythm and soon enough you’re loading in another sheet of paper.

A text message a few hours later is what finally breaks your concentration. You assume that it is Yoko or your aunt, but you're wrong.

Wednesday: Enid tells me you’ve taken up shelter in a cabin in hopes of ending your writer’s block.

You: I have and it's working quite well actually.

Wednesday: With all of the Vampire killing going on, you find locking yourself up some in a cabin to be safe?

You: Not you too 😒. I’m fine, Yoko lives close by and I'm very capable of defending myself Addams.

Wednesday: If you’re put in a position to have to defend yourself, that just shows that you didn’t take the proper methods of precaution.

You: I assure you; I have taken every possible precaution.

“Have you really?”

You scream and jump at the same time. Your hand places itself over your shallow beating heart.

“What the fuck, Wednesday?”

The woman eyes you up and down, “Vulgarity is new for you, Y/n. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before."

Your phone rings before you can question your old classmate. You pick it up hearing Yoko’s slightly panicked voice at the end, “Are you alright? I heard your heart rate like triple.”

“I’m fine Yoko, just have an unsuspected visitor.”

“Who?”

Wednesday makes her presence know, “Hello, Tanaka.”

You can nearly see the other Vampire smiling on the other end of the line, “Addams, very interesting. Well, call me if you need anything baby bat, I’ll talk to you later."

You say a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. You turn your attention back to Wednesday. The last time you saw her was a little over a year ago at some party Enid was throwing. She hadn’t changed much; in fact, she hadn’t really changed much of her aesthetic since Nevermore.

Her attire was still all black. She still had her two braids. She might’ve been an inch taller and maybe her tan was a little darker, but she was essentially the same.

“How did you find me and why are you here?”

Wednesday walks around observing the cabin with each step, “Well I mentioned that Enid told me, that girl can’t keep any details to herself. She said you’d be staying close to Yoko, and this is the closest available cabin to her. I thought I would have had to search more, but I got lucky with this one.”

“Okay… but why?”

“Is it so strange that I want to catch up with an old friend?”

You look at her incredulously, “You wanted to see me, so you tracked me down and broke into the place I'm staying at? Try again.”

“I’m investigating the increasing amount of murders in the Vampire community,” she reveals.

“Oh.”

Wednesday begins to explain, “As you know the unprovoked hunting of Vampires has been illegal for quite some time now. Yet this year alone the number of bodies belonging to the immortals have been found at an alarming rate. A lot of Vampires are afraid that they might be next. With terror comes two paths avoidance or violence. Neither has ideal conclusions for the Vampire race. To avoid would be to possibly become extinct and the violent route means a war. Someone must put a stop to it before it goes too far.”

Hearing the reality of the situation from Wednesday feels more bone chilling than when your aunt or Yoko mentioned it. The last war between the Vampires and the human race had ended horribly for both sides. So much death that both sides eventually relented to peace talks. Those talks laid a lot of foundation for not only Vampire rights, but also the rights of many supernatural beings. Another war wouldn’t only affect the Vampires, but all relations between humans and supernatural beings would be up in the air.

“Another war would cause complete and utter chaos,” you say.

Wednesday agrees, “It would be the end of peaceful relationship between the naturals and the supernatural entirely.”

“What does any of that have to do with me, Wednesday?”

The brown eyed girl bores into your eyes, “My pride has learned to take a backseat over the years. I understand now that I cannot do everything on my own. The stakes of this investigation are the highest that I’ve ever come across. I require assistance from people I trust to ensure this matter is properly dealt with."

“You need my help,” you summarize her words.

“Yes. I’m currently making my way through my list of allies. Enid suggested that I recruit former Nightshades.”

Your eyes drift over to your typewriter, “Has anyone else agreed to this?”

“Enid is in, she’s in the process of convincing Bianca, Ajax, and Ken. I’m here for Divina, Yoko, and you.”

The pressure of this decision weighs heavily on you. Choosing to stay and write your book rather than fighting for the rights of your people seems ridiculously selfish. On the other hand, willingly agreeing to put yourself in the middle of a potential war didn’t sound much better.

“I need a drink.”

You enter the kitchen, locating the bottle of blood wine you had brought with you. With a wine glass and corkscrew at the ready, you’re pouring yourself a hefty glass.

Your sipping from glass at an eager pace before refocusing your attention on to Wednesday, “Do you want a drink?”

“Bourbon, neat,” she steps into the kitchen.

You sit your glass to begin making Wednesday her drink.

“I never pegged you for a dark liquor type of detective, it’s a little cliché.”

She’s quick to shoot back, “And a female writer with an affinity for wine isn’t?”

You wince playfully, “Touché.”

When you hand her the drink she continues the banter, “Your typewriter is an antique, Royal Magic Margin from 1938. Impressive."

“Amdis got it for me as gift after my first bestseller. I only really use it when I have writer’s block otherwise, I'm on my laptop like everyone else.”

“Though I’ve embraced most technology I still prefer my typewriter. It feels more satisfying when I can physically see all of the pages,” she shares.

You nod, “Understandable.”

The two of sit in silence as you nurse your drinks. You keep running through scenarios in your mind of how this all will turn out. Even the good outcome for the supernatural beings didn't necessarily mean a good outcome for yourself. Anything could happen to you along the way.

“I know that what I’m asking you to do is a lot, but I assure you that I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t think you were capable.”

Your finger plays with the rim of your empty glass, “Do you have any leads, evidence, or plans, or would we be going into this completely blind?”

“I have a few leads and pieces of evidence. I have the ghost of a plan, but I can’t finalize anything until I know my allies. For now, the plan is to gather a team to bring to my residence in order to create a feasible plan of action,” Wednesday explains.

You bargain with her, “If you can convince Yoko, I’m in. I don't want to be the only Vampire around if we're going to be facing hunters.”

“Fair, I was wondering if there was any potential in getting Amdis to join in as well,” Wednesday propositions.

You frown, “You know my aunt doesn’t play well with others. If I tell her that I’m getting involved in something like this she will personally track me down and drag me off to the furthest corner of the Earth.”

“Right, well then we shall wait for one hour and then I will drive us to Yoko's,” Wednesday says matter-of-factly.

“Why are we waiting an hour?”

Wednesday kept a deadpan look on her face, “For the drinks to metabolize."

An hour later the two of you are making the drive to Yoko’s house.

“How have you been fairing?” Wednesday keeps her eyes on the road as she speaks to you.

“Fine and you?”

You see the woman’s shoulders drop a bit, “I never imagined you’d give me such a scripted answer, Y/n. I thought we were years past formalities.”

Her words startle you. This is a side of Wednesday that you are still getting to know. You’re used to her being more nonchalant with the feelings of others.

“Sorry, it’s just my most given answer. I don’t know how I’m doing. I’m a successful writer, but I’m suffering with writers’ block. That doesn’t even really matter when my people are being slaughtered though does it?”

“I think we’re approaching the age where we don’t know what matters anymore? Everything blurs together and starts to feel the same. Success doesn’t seem as important as we thought it was when we were younger. We are going to save the Vampires and avenge the ones that have been lost. Then maybe we’ll be to appreciate the triviality of our daily struggles,” Wednesday answers you completely.

You find yourself staring at her side profile. There’s a hidden vulnerability in her words. You don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but you question her anyway, “Have you been uninspired lately?”

“Uninspired, unmotivated, and bored. Not just with writing, but with the detective work too. I’ve thrown myself into my work since I was a child. Though I’ve seen the heights of success, they weren’t as tall as I pictured them to be. I suppose it’s like, I’ve grown larger than my dreams, and now I find myself… unsatisfied.”

“Then why take on this case?”

The woman licks her lips for a second before taking a quick glance at you, “It’s personal, isn’t it? I’m not a Vampire, but you are as well as Yoko. I can’t sit around and do nothing, as the people that I’ve worked hard to care about lose everything. Like we said earlier, this problem could expand beyond Vampires. My best friend is a Werewolf. Nearly every person that I tolerate is a supernatural being. I refuse to wait until it’s too late to act.”

A small smile takes over your features, “Noble as always, Wednesday.”

She scoffs in faux agitation, “Still trying to paint me as some kind of heroic figure.”

“Well maybe if you’d stop saving the day, I’d let it go,” you tease her.

“I don’t save the day; I simply follow leads and clean up investigations.”

You answer with sarcasm, “Of course, and it’s not like you take these events and turn them into bestselling novels where the protagonist is a reflection of yourself.”

“How dare you drag Viper De La Muerte into this?”

You laugh at the menacing tone behind her words, “Look, I thought we were done giving scripted answers. You, Wednesday Addams are one of the most heroic people I've ever encountered. Stop being stubborn and treasure the compliment.”

She parks the car before turning her full attention to you, “Perhaps I have some of the qualities of a hero, but I refuse the title. I’m more than the mysteries I solve or the books I write. There are plenty of times I was less than hero like.”

The both of you exit the car. You mumble to yourself, but she still hears you, “Spoken like true hero.”

You ring the doorbell and wait for Yoko to answer. It takes less than a minute for her to open the door.

“Baby bat, already out of the cabin so fast? And you brought a friend too. Long time no see, Addams.”

Yoko steps aside to let you in. The two of you enter and subsequently follow her into the living room.

“I’ve come to ask a favor of you, Yoko,” Wednesday gets straight to the point.

Yoko eyes you for clarification, “I think it’s best she speaks for herself here.”

Wednesday tells Yoko the same thing she told you. The Vampire did not interrupt once. Her facial expression stays neutral as she takes on the information and what is being asked of her.

“That’s a big ask Addams,” Yoko says once she’s heard it all.

“I’m aware, but we would be the only thing standing between an all-out war,” she reasons.

Yoko sucks her teeth, “And Divina is needed as well?”

“Ideally, yes.”

She’s silent for a few minutes. There’s a slow tension building in the room as you wait for her answer.

With a huff of annoyance she agrees, “I’m on board, Addams. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least try?”

Wednesday turns her attention to you.

“Fine, but I’m too young to die Wednesday,” It’s as much a joke as it is the truth.

“I would give up my life before I’d let you lose yours.”

Her words seem to suck all of the air out of your lungs. It’s the way she says it, in that way only she can. She speaks these passionate words as if they are fact. They’re common sense to her but seem like an alien language to you.

You say nothing, just sit there trying to keep your face from showing how flustered you are.

“Anyway… should I wake up Divina and pack our things now?”

Wednesday nods curtly, “The sooner we leave the better. It’s a long way to my residence.”

-At The Addams’s Estate-

Wednesday had not been exaggerating about the nearly 8-hour drive to her home. The property was just as unique as the members of the Addams’ family.

“Enid should be here somewhere with the others. You can sit your bags by the door Lurch will take care of them,” Wednesday instructs the three of you.

You all follow her through the home. As you get closer to the rest, you can hear Enid chatting away.

“Some things never change, do they?” Divina nudges Yoko.

The Vampire smiles, “The day that Wolfie has nothing to say, is a day I truly fear.”

When you enter the kitchen area you are met with a plethora of familiar faces. Enid is having a very animated conversation with Bianca. While Ken and Ajax are speaking amongst themselves.

The blonde let’s out shrill yell when notices your arrival. She’s quick to envelope her oldest friend in a hug, “Yoko, I’ve missed you.”

Enid’s grip is something fierce but Yoko hugs her back regardless, “We just saw each other last week, but I missed you too Wolfie."

Divina and Enid exchange quick pleasantries before the siren makes a beeline for her twin.

When it’s your turn Enid can’t help but to lift you off of the ground. It startles you a bit, but you let out of laugh, “You’re a lot stronger than I remember, Enid.”

“It’s a wolf thing, Vampy.”

You groan at the nickname, “I could’ve sworn that we agreed that you wouldn’t call me that.”

The blonde shrugs, “I don’t recall. Wednesday do you recall?”

“You’re asking her because you remember that she was there,” you point out.

The corners of Wednesday’s lips turn up slightly, “We all have unfortunate nicknames given to us by Enid. I believe it is a form of endearment. Though ‘Vampy' is not ideal, it could be worse.”

“See you could stand to learn a thing or two from Willa,” Enid beams.

“Don’t push it,” Wednesday threatens, her stoic expression returning to her face.

Enid concedes, “Understood.”

Wednesday snaps her fingers getting the attention of the room, “We all know why we have gathered here. As much as I would love to dive right into all of the details surrounding the event, I feel as though it would be beneficial to make sure everyone is settled in first. Get reacquainted with each other, try to enjoy this time. Tomorrow we will begin the real work.”

The traveling likely was weighing the abilities of the group. Most of them completing a full days’ worth of travel just to get to the home. Trying to rally them at this point would be a waste of time.

Upon hearing Wednesday's words, the talking picks back up again. Everyone is engaged in a conversation. Wednesday sees this and takes that as her cue to try to leave the room.

You stop her, “Leaving your guests already?”

“Enid is a much more entertaining host than me. She’s familiar with the home so she should be fine,” Wednesday tries to justify her exit.

“Where are you going?”

Wednesday fixes her posture slightly, “If you must know completing a nearly 16-hour drive back and forth is quiet tiresome. I was hoping to get some rest.”

Your eyebrow raises in amusement, “My god, I’ve seen it all. The Wednesday I grew up with would never admit to actually needing sleep.”

She rolls her eyes, “I said rest, not sleep. The two aren’t always synonymous.”

“Well, I could use some rest too. I've been traveling technically for two days straight.”

Wednesday extends her hand out for you to grab. You stare at it cautiously before slipping your hand into hers.

“I’ll show you to the room,” she begins dragging you through the house.

You wonder if she took your hand, so you'd be forced to keep up. It could be a precaution about you getting lost, her home was big, so it made sense. Maybe she remembered your affinity for physical touch and was trying to offer you comfort.

The last thought made you blush. You were grateful the woman was in front of you as to avoid her seeing your face.

She opens a door to what you assume is the room you’ll be staying in. When she closes it behind her, she starts to speak again, “Because I’m not regularly used to accommodating such a large number of guests, rooms will be shared. You and I will be sharing if that is alright.”

“This is seeming more and more like Nevermore by the minute,” you joke, though on the inside your nerves are failing you.

“Would you like me to get the tape?”

Though her tone doesn’t reflect it, you can tell she’s joking, “It’d only be for your benefit Addams, I don’t mind being close to you.”

“Good to know,” she says it to herself more than to you.

The room is large, you can tell it’s somewhat of a masters suite. It doesn’t surprise you to see that there's a bookcase situated against a wall. Near the shelf there’s a medium sized black couch that you could picture the girl reading on.

The bed in the center of the room is large, you assume it’s king sized. It feels silly to picture Wednesday laying in that huge bed alone, but the voice in the back of your mind reminds you that according to Yoko, Wednesday doesn’t spend her nights alone. It's in that same frame of thought that you realize there’s only one bed.

Wednesday heads over to the couch, “You will take the bed.”

You shake your head, “I can take the couch, this is your home.”

Wednesday counters, “And you are my guest.”

“Don’t be stubborn Addams.”

Her gaze meets yours aa little fiercer than usual, “I thought last name basis was just something between Tanaka and I, but it seems to have rubbed off on you.”

You crease your brow, “Abrupt change of subject don’t you think?”

She shakes her head a bit and the emotion leaves her eyes. She reaches for a book off of the shelf, burying her face in it, “Take the bed, Y/n."

“Old habits die hard I see,” you comment, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What are you referring to?”

You purse your lips, “The way you avoid discomforting topics.”

You can see her jaw twitch from your place on the bed. For a moment, you think you overstepped.

She keeps her focus on the book, “I’d prefer if you’d just call me Wednesday.”

You keep your eyes on her, “Well, Wednesday, I think your bed is quite large. Too large for just one person, in my opinion. I see no reason for you to take the couch, when there is ample space on the bed.”

The statement makes her sit the book down on her lap, “You would be comfortable with that?”

You fight the urge to look away from her, “I wouldn't have suggested it if it made me uncomfortable.”

She gets up from the couch and hesitantly makes her way towards the bed. She sits on the side opposite of you, leaning her back against the headboard. You follow her lead and get comfortable. You lay flat on your back, pulling out your phone for entertainment.

You attempt to fight the urge to fall asleep. However, between the traveling and the softness of the mattress, you lose.

Your light snores pull Wednesday out of her book. She takes in your sleeping figure, analytically. Her thoughts roam freely in her mind as she watches you sleep.

She wonders if the rest of your skin is as soft as your hand. Wednesday wonders if you have laid in bed like this with anyone else. She wonders just how close she could get to you without it b being inappropriate.

The truth of the situation pokes at her. Yes, this case was foundationally important to her. She hadn’t lied in trying to get you to her home, but she also wasn’t entirely truthful. Wednesday didn’t like knowing what was happening to Vampires and being so far away from you. In her mind the closer you are to her, the easier it is to keep you safe.

An aggravated sigh escapes her. After all these years and her futile attempts to move on, she finds herself just as enamored with you as she was at Nevermore.

Now here you were, in her bed. Yet romance couldn't even be considered with such important things at hand. Wednesday had to stay sharp, to keep her focus on the task at hand. This was likely the biggest investigation of her career, potentially the last one she would ever do. Failing here meant failing you, and everyone else she cared for.

Though it was unlike herself she tried to stay optimistic. She refused to believe she had gathered you all to put you in worthless danger.

With her book long forgotten, she attempts to rest her eyes as well.

“I’m using this as blackmail one day.”

“They aren't even that close together.”

“That’s what Photoshop is for Yoko. You're looking at an Adobe certified editor.”

Your eyes open just enough to see Enid and Yoko conversing at the entrance to the room.

“Just take the damn picture Enid, before one of them wakes up.”

You sit up right in the bed, startling the women, “Too late.”

You yawn, sighing in satisfaction when your bones crack.

“We were just-”

“Being weirder than usual and taking pictures of us in our sleep,” Wednesday answers, sitting up in a similar fashion to you.

“Jesus, you guys are the creeps! Who wakes up like that?” Enid replies, completely deflecting on to the women sharing a bed.

“What do you want?” You ask them, your voice echoing as you wipe your eyes.

Enid rolls her eyes, “Relax Vampy, we just came to say dinner’s ready. You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours already.”

“Ok, we’ll be down in a minute,” Wednesday tells them.

“Take your time kids,” Yoko says, pulling Enid along with her.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the last of your tiredness out of your body.

“I’m going to shower before I go down, you don’t have to wait for me,” Wednesday gets out of the bed.

Your body almost melts at the thought of a shower. It’s as if the word itself makes you untense.

“A shower sounds nice,” you say aloud.

“Though I’m aware of the dire state of the climate crisis-”

Your face turns red, and you cut her off, “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean together. I just meant in general.”

You marvel as you see color paint her cheeks "Oh, yes, that does make more sense. Down the hall, first door on the right there’s another bathroom.”

The two of split off into your separate showers. You find each other at the top of the stairs heading to dinner together.

You never pictured Wednesday in relaxed apparel before, but she stood beside you in a pair of black pajama pants and an oversized shirt. It looked like the clothes would swallow her up.

“Were you expecting something more elaborate,” Wednesday speaks, noting your lingering gaze.

“Maybe, but I like this.”

She heads down the stairs without another word and you follow behind her. Once you get to the kitchen table you take a seat next to Yoko while Wednesday sits at the head of the table.

“Enjoy your nap baby bat?” Yoko says suggestively.

“Do enjoy having 2 fangs?”

Yoko laughs, “How unusually violent of you.”

You roll your eyes, “Unusually? Have you forgotten the way I was when we first met.”

“All talk, no action,” Yoko argues back.

“Ajax, do you recall when I broke your nose?” You call him out, trying to make a point.

He sighs poking at his nose, “I do, it’s been a little crooked ever since.”

“Well, if you hadn’t stood up Enid, your nose would be straighter,” you remind him.

“Hey, I accidentally turned myself to stone.”

You shrug, “Should’ve led with that.”

Bianca laughs, “You didn’t even give him a chance. It was definitely on sight.”

Ken adds on, “No literally, and she just walked over him when he was on the ground.”

“It was kind of like a hit and run, except she slowly walked away,” Divina thinks out loud.

It’s nice to laugh and joke you still can. It feels like something you’ve been missing lately in your life. The sense of community that you have here surrounded by your friends is warm.

It's not that you isolate yourself from others. You make it to their parties or gatherings for special occasions, but it’s not often. It’s also not everyone like this. Though you wish the circumstances were better, you’re grateful for this, as you don’t know when it will happen again.

After the meal, you head back to the room. You aren’t tired, in fact you feel focused. With your laptop in hand, you sit on the couch. You take this moment to begin recalling things that might be important for the investigation. You think over the historical content that you know about Vampires. Strengths, weaknesses, previous war efforts, and enemies, anything that might help for tomorrow.

You’re familiar with the 6 W's of investigating, so you assume that’s where you’ll start tomorrow. You had some theories based on what you had seen and known from your aunt, but you couldn’t confirm anything without Wednesday’s evidence.

It made sense for this to be a group of hunters, but with the volume of deaths and missing cases, it was improbable to believe they were working alone. Killing Vampires wasn’t an easy feat. They were strong and nearly immortal. Evolution had done the race good. Garlic had been minimized to an allergy, they didn’t combust in the sun anymore, and wood could not simply penetrate their skin.

Silver was still the deadliest of their weaknesses, followed shortly by magic, holy water, and finally the claws of a wolf. There were other things that made them vulnerable, but those were the main ones.

“Feeling inspired to write after dinner?” Wednesday enters the room.

“You could say that. I'm actually getting some of my thoughts together for tomorrow. I want to have everything I know readily available. That way when we start going into what you already have, I could potentially plug in useful information.”

Wednesday sits next to you on the couch, slightly leaning over your shoulder to look at what you have written so far, “Has there ever been a civil war amongst the Vampires?”

You nod, “Multiple times. The first one was about territory expansion. At one point the entire population of Vampires was in one place. Some people thought that it was necessary for survival, others believed that they should be able to go wherever they wanted. People picked sides and they fought against each other.”

“I’m going to assume the side who wanted to separate won.”

You shrug, “Kind of. That war technically led to us being discovered by humans. There was lots of commotion, you can’t necessarily hide a war. Once they were discovered the humans began trying to kill them. So, they had to make a truce to fight against the humans. There was a huge loss of our people, a loss that some argued could’ve been minimized if we all weren’t in one spot. After that any Vampire who wanted to stray from the coven was allowed to.”

“I see, and the other wars?”

You continue, “I only know of 2 more that were civil. The next one was about interspecies relationships, and the last time we fought it was about ethical consumption of blood. The quick version of events with the interspecies dispute was that there had been this obsession with being pure. Vampires were not allowed to mate outside of the race, regardless of who the other party was. It was challenged after our war against the Werewolves; as a number of Vampires had fallen in love with certain Werewolves.”

“The blood one was quite recent, correct?”

You nod, “I was alive for that one. Maybe 5 or 6 years old. It was probably the largest civil war we’d had; some people even believe we’re still in it today. We need blood to survive, but everyone was divided about where we could get that blood. Some people didn’t want to drink from humans as it is not the best for our image in their eyes. Others argued that drinking from animals could slowly kill the ecosystem. There was even more fighting when it came to how to obtain it.”

“Who won?”

Again, you shrug, “Like I said some people say this one is still happening. It ended in a sort of agree-to-disagree manner. There are technically restrictions about how much of any species that a single Vampire can consume but-”

“Not everyone abides by those restrictions,” Wednesday finishes your sentence.

“Exactly. What are you thinking about all of this in correlation with the investigation?”

Wednesday doesn’t hesitate to share, “I asked about in-fighting within the community because I believe that Vampires are in some ways responsible for these murders.”

You hold back a gasp, “You think we’re killing each other off?”

Wednesday points to a part in your notes, “You have it written out here that you don’t think it’s the hunters alone if it’s them at all. They don’t have the strength or the numbers to operate on a high scale like this. They have to be working with some non-human supernatural beings. Who better to help kill Vampires than other Vampires?”

“As much as it sickens me, we can't rule it out. However, you did say any non-humans, which could mean anything. We all know the history between Vampires and Werewolves. We also know that a noted weakness of Vampires is magic which could indicate Witches. I don’t think we can rule out anyone yet,” you reason with her.

Wednesday’s gaze softens as she looks at you. It’s as if she knows something you don’t. For a moment you can see her contemplating, in her mind.

“Do you know something I don’t,” your voice is delicate as you press for answers.

You can see her mask falling back into place, “I think we should talk about it tomorrow.”

She tries to get up from the couch, but your hand grasps her wrist, “Wednesday.”

She wishes she could ignore your plea, but it was impossible. Maybe if she was the teenager she used to be, she could shrug you off and stand her ground a bit better. However, Wednesday had grown up and knew that acting in that way would not benefit the relationship.

“Come with me,” she says, slipping her hand into yours.

You stand and walk with her out of the room. You walk down the hall, taking a turn before approaching a door. When Wednesday enters the room, you immediately realize it as her study. If the large desk in the middle of the room wasn’t a giveaway; then you’re certain that the evidence board on the wall would’ve given it a way.

The raven-haired girl waits to speak. She watches as your eyes scan the evidence board. It’s a mess of pictures, sticky notes, and red string, but she’s certain you can follow it.

The images on the board are disturbing, she paid close attention to your reaction to them. Pictures of people like you, but lifeless. Some bloody and gore filled, others with bones broken, and some just neat.

You study the pictures, perhaps longer than you should. Your brain is working overtime to find some sort of connection.

“There’s a marking on them. You can’t see it in the pictures, but it’s visible in person. I drew it, right there. I tried to look it up, but the only thing that came up was general Vampire facts. I couldn’t tell of this was some kind of branding or maybe an identity mark that Vampires have,” Wednesday breaks your concentration.

Your eyes flit over to the drawing. It was a circle with triangles around the inner lining, and in the center was a swirl. You recognize the symbol but can’t necessarily recall from where.

“I’ve seen this before.”

Your fingers reach out to trace over the symbol. As soon as they find the paper you feel a burning sensation in the middle of your back. The pain makes you grunt and crumple on to the floor. Blood wells behind your eyes and spills out as you cry silently.

Wednesday is by your side instantly. She tries calling your name and asking what’s wrong, but you can’t respond to her in the state of pain. She sees you clawing at your shirt and without hesitation helps you take it off.

In the middle of your back, she can see a scar forming. It looks like the outline of the symbol she had drawn. It was only the circle; the triangles and spirals hadn’t formed yet.

“Burns,” you manage to spit out. Your fangs come out without your permission.

Wednesday stands up frantically searching for something in her office that would help you. When she returns to your side you can hear her opening a jar of sorts.

Without much warning you feel her hand rubbing the substance on to your back. You flinch out of fear but are relieved when the burning sensation dies down significantly. As your breathing returns to normal, you attempt to sit up.

“Well, I guess we know it’s a brand now,” you attempt to joke.

Wednesday glares at you for a second. She wipes her hands off before reaching to wipe the blood off of your face.

“Nothing about this is funny. You have this circle on your back, we don’t know what it means, and you’re a bloody mess.”

You grab her wrist to stop her from wiping the blood off your face, “These are just tears Wednesday. I’m fine.”

She looks at you wildly, “You are not fine-”

“Wednesday, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

She shakes her head firmly, “They can wait. Get on the desk.”

You furrow your brow, “Excuse me?”

“Get on the desk so that I can properly examine the wound,” she elaborates.

It’s when you stand that you start to really process that you don’t have a shirt on. Wednesday politely turns and waits for you to follow her instructions. You do as she asks, laying against the cold wood.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Just be still.”

You try to relax as reality begins to crash down on you. Not only is there a partial brand stamped into your back, but the woman that you liked since you were a girl is tending to your wound. You’re laying shirtless on her desk while she examines you. This is both a dream and a nightmare.

She begins pressing down on the mark, but you don’t flinch from the touch, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Interesting,” Wednesday says getting a closer look.

“Does it look bad?”

“It looks… healed already. Last time I checked your kind isn’t fast healing.”

You stop her, “Well that’s not entirely true. Some Vampires, usually the older one have enhanced healing features to make up for their evolutionary disadvantages.”

“I want to try something. Sit up and give me your hand,” she says.

“You’re still just as bossy as you were when we were teens,” you say, but again follow her orders.

She huffs at you, “And you’re just as compliant.”

Her words shut you up immediately. You watch as she closes her eyes, both her hands firmly in yours. That’s when you begin to understand that she’s attempting to use her powers.

For a moment you feel her grip loosen before her grip becomes deathly and her eyes shoot open.

“What did you see?”

“You’ve seen it on a book at your house, it’s your aunts. Old brown leather, it looks like a journal but it’s thick like a book.”

You sigh, “You think we’re going to need that book, don’t you?”

Wednesday confirms, “Ideally yes, but we’ll worry about it later. I think we’ve done enough for today.”

You attempt to get off of the desk. Your foot slips on one of the loose folders Wednesday has on her floor. The dark attires girl is quick to try to steady you.

Her hands feel unusually warm against the bare skin of your sides. You feel her breath fanning over your collarbone. The fabric of her shirt felt soft, lightly tickling your chest.

There was a small tension building between the two of you. You could feel Wednesday’s eyes following a trail from your face all the way down your body. She did it so shamelessly, in way where it made you feel like a piece of evidence she was examining.

You don’t expect it when the back of her hand rests against your forehead, “Do you feel lightheaded, because you look flush?”

The way her eyes examine every corner of your face makes you want to melt on the spot.

“I slipped on your folder,” you manage to slip out.

Her hand drops from your forehead to caress your cheek, “I must clean in here before I let everyone in tomorrow.”

“Wednesday-"

“Can I ask you something Y/n?”

She says this while her hand finds a place on the small of your back, guiding you out of the room. You forget your original thought.

“Yes,” you answer.

“Are you aware of how cool and soft your skin is?”

You stumble over your words, “I- um-"

“It’s always been like that. As long as we’ve known each other, I mean. I remember the first time you put your hand in mine, to shake it. I’ve pondered over the years if the rest of your skin feels the same. Now, I have the answer.”

You’re in her room now. The door closes behind you, and her hand is still on your back. She leads you to the bed, and you still haven't found the words.

All you can manage to say is her name tentatively, “Wednesday.”

“Are you accustomed to sharing a bed like this? Does anyone of note know the comfort of your skin?”

“No,” you answer breathlessly.

Wednesday releases her own breath, “Good.”

You watch helplessly as the woman walks to the other side of the bed and climbs in.

“What was the meaning of this Wednesday?” You say as you climb into the bed.

She dares to get closer to you. There’s a small space between the two of you. Something you could close if you wished to.

“You’re captivating.”

“Is that something you say to everyone that's shared this bed with you?” You can’t help it as the snarky comment leaves you.

Yoko’s words about Wednesday’s escapades run through your mind. At first you doubted the validity of what you had heard, but with the way Wednesday was acting with you, it was starting to make sense. The suaveness of her words, the charm of her certainty, she could have anyone be putty in her hands.

“No, it’s not,” her voice held a sincerity in it that you weren't prepared to hear.

You lay flat on your back, scared to look into the Latina’s eyes, “I've heard about your romantic encounters.”

Wednesday sighs, you can feel her eyes burning into you something akin to the brand on your back, “Y/n, we’re adults rapidly approaching our 30’s. As a teen I could pretend not to be the slightest bit interested in romance. I could focus on my work. However, as I grew, and began to accomplish my goals, I realized that I wanted somebody to share it with. Not platonically, but intimately. So, I tried dating, is that a truly repulsive thought?”

“No, it’s of sound logic, just like everything you say.”

Wednesday lays on her back, turning her attention towards the ceiling, “Have I misinterpreted things between us? The tension, is it of another variety?"

“You haven’t. I’m just having a hard time understanding this.”

Her hand extends into the space between the two of you. Your hand falls into hers and your fingers interlock.

“I should’ve known the moment I met you that any other attempts at romance would be frivolous. I apologize for my timing, but with you here with me in this capacity, I could not help myself. I thought I would be able to keep these feelings buried like I did when we were younger, but the truth is Y/n, I yearn for you.”

“Wednesday-"

“No one has ever come into my quarters to lay with me. I’ve never brought anyone home, and subconsciously I knew why. None of them would live up to you. Your beauty, your strength, your humor, your passion; all unrivaled.”

You squeeze her hand, “Careful, you’re sounding like your father.”

“I can no longer afford to be careful. I am willing to risk my reputation if it means that you will entertain my pleas.”

“I always thought that one day I’d tell you how I felt about you, and you’d be kind enough to let me down gently. This is a lot to take in,” you close your eyes briefly.

“Is this something you want?”

Your eyes meet hers and suddenly they’re burning just as intensely, “Yes, but I am afraid. Wednesday, you brought me here to help you save my people. This isn’t Crackstone or some stalker, I could die. Hell, you could die.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“Why is it so easy for you to say that?”

As your head falls her hand lightly grips your chin forcing you to keep eye contact with her, “Because I mean it. Have I ever broken my word?”

“No, but-"

She moves closer, closing the gap between you. You feel everything slow as her thumb cascades across your bottom lip.

“I could argue you down with logic if I have to. My track record speaks for itself, but I don’t want to do that. I want you to trust me, can you trust me?”

You nod, internally shivering when her lips slightly brush against yours. Your breath mingles with hers and your eyes begin to flutter.

“I trust you.”

Wednesday moves hesitantly, but she’s basically already there. Your lips touch experimentally. She keeps getting closer until she’s on top of you. She’s straddling your waist with your face still in her hands. Your hands slide under her shirt to rest on her waist. She’s warm, warmer than you ever could’ve imagined.

You push her away from you a little as you work to control your breath.

“What’s wrong?” She looks for signs of discomfort or regret on your features.

You open your mouth, showing your fangs, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wednesday slips her thumb into your mouth. You keep it open, feeling her touch your teeth. The pad of her thumb against the point of your fangs. She pricks herself and you know it immediately.

A single drop of her blood falls onto your tongue. Your lips enclose around her thumb as you suck lightly. Her blood is rich but bitter like an expensive chocolate.

You moan at the taste. Red hues swirling around as you taste her, “God Wednesday.”

She pulls her thumb from your mouth. Her chest heaves slightly, “I would allow you to drink from me until my knees were weak. As much as I desire that, I fear that if we go any farther it will becoming increasingly indecent.”

You nod, inhaling deeply, “You’re right, it seems like we are getting ahead of ourselves.”

She steals another kiss from you before she returns to her spot next to you. She tries to put distance between you two, but you pull her flush against you. Her back against your front. Your purposefully blow air against her ear.

“Where did you think you were going?” You chuckle in her ear.

“I thought we were giving each other space, as to not escalate our behaviors,” she murmurs.

It makes you laugh even more, “Can’t control yourself enough to lie next to me?”

Her arms overlap yours to keep them place, “I can. I suppose I forgot that you are someone who prefers physical contact.”

“We don’t have to cuddle,” you say.

“No, I like this,” Wednesday holds on to you tighter.

“Goodnight, Wednesday,” you whisper into her hair.

“Goodnight.”

You weren’t ready to wake up when you felt the warmth move from beside you in the morning. Your arms pat around the bed searching for the girl that had spent the night next to you.

You groan when you are unable to locate her.

“Go back to sleep it’s early.”

Instead of listening to the voice, you sit up and began to rub the sleep out of your eyes, “Where are we going?”

“I am going to clean my study, and you’re staying here,” she puts emphasis on the ‘I.’

“Let me help,” you say getting completely out of the bed and stretching your limbs.

You hear Wednesday sigh, “Your eyes aren’t even open.”

You open them slowly, adjusting to the new brightness, “Better?”

Wednesday rolls her, “Fine, but put a shirt on. We don't need everyone seeing your bra.”

You let a dopey smile play on your features before throwing a shirt over your head, “Jealous?”

“And if I were to say yes?”

You walk across the room to stand in front of the shorter girl, “Then I’d say you have nothing to worry about. Divina, Yoko, and Enid have all seen me shirtless before and none of them have been swooned.”

Wednesday glares at you, “Not funny, I recount Enid saying some rather interesting words about your body.

Your eyebrows raise, “Wolfie liked what she saw then?”

You could see Wednesday’s jaw clench, “If you would rather room with Enid that can be arranged.”

You shake your head, “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Color dusts Wednesday’s cheeks as she looks away from you, “We’re supposed to be cleaning my study.”

You step aside and dramatically gestures towards the door, “After you.”

“After I practice my dental hygiene,” Wednesday says taking steps to her restroom.

“I’ll do the same and we’ll meet in front of the office?”

She nods and the two of you go your separate ways briefly before meeting in front of Wednesday's office.

It was as messy as it had been the night before. Together you work in silence to make the room more presentable. Papers that are scattered on the floor find themselves in neat stacks on her desk. Some of the books are returned to their proper home against the wall. You clean until the only mess that remains is your shirt from last night and a small bloodstain on the floor.

Wednesday picks up the shirt before you do, she examines it. When she holds it up there’s a notable hole in it, the shape matches the one of the symbols that was now etched into your back.

“Just how hot was it?”

When you get a glimpse of the shirt you frown, “I’ve never felt such an intense pain in my whole life. It felt like the sun was resting on my back.”

Wednesday keeps the shirt as evidence she you help her remove the stain from the floor. By the time you finish it’s actually a reasonable time in the morning.

You decide to go the kitchen and look for sustenance. Yoko, Enid, and Bianca are already there, seemingly making breakfast for everyone.

“Morning,” Enid speaks enthusiastically.

You greet them quietly, taking a seat at the table. Yoko brings you a slice of toast that’s covered in, what you assume is blood jam. You’re correct, and munch on the bread happily.

“Y/n did you have a nightmare or something last night?” The other Vampire questions, taking a seat next to you.

“I was going to ask the same thing, your heart was going crazy, and it sounded like you were crying,” Enid adds on.

“I think it’s better if I wait to tell everyone at once,” you mumble.

“Does it have to do with the investigation?” Bianca correctly assesses your hesitance.

Wednesday answers, “Yes, and let’s hold any further questions until after breakfast.”

You can see Yoko roll her eyes behind her glasses, “How come Addams gets to know and I don’t?”

“Yoko, we were together, so she saw everything. I’ll tell everyone once we’re getting ready to start working out the plan.”

One by one, everyone else appears in the kitchen. The chatter is low but fills the room all the same. Once everyone finished, Wednesday starts to direct them towards the office. As they file into the room Wednesday grabs your hand pulling you to the stand with her in front of the evidence.

“Last night after speaking with Y/n, about the history of in-fighting in the Vampire community, we came to this room to go over some of the evidence that I have gathered. During that time, I pointed out the pattern of this symbol on the victims. Though it did not photograph well, I took the time to draw it. When Y/n touched that drawing, it partially burned into her skin.”

You turn with your back facing them. You raise up your shirt to just above the scar on your back. A few gasps are heard with the reveal.

“That symbol belongs to the first generation of elders,” Yoko inspects the drawing.

“Do you know why it burned her?”

Yoko tilts her head to the side, “There was a story my parents used to tell me about it, but I always thought it was legend. The symbol was originally the crest of the first Vampires in existence. It goes back to the territory expansion, the elders wanted everyone to stay together. However, when it was decided that the others could leave, they wanted a way of being able to identify each other once out in the world. They took their symbol and filled it with cursed magic. It marked every Vampire that it could touch.”

“Does that explain why it’s on the bodies?” Ajax questioned.

Bianca answers him, “I doubt it, that story is probably hundreds if not thousands of years old. Most of these victims wouldn’t have been around back then, according to this board.”

Yoko adds on, “Bianca is right. After Vampires were allowed to migrate, it didn’t make sense for us to all follow one set of elders. So, everyone kind of started doing their own thing, finding guidance in the community rather than the original elders. Of course this upset them, they tried warning people about fighting against them. Eventually their need for control caused them to do some heinous things to other Vampires resulting in exile. Their symbol was banned and as far as I know they dropped off the face of the earth.”

“Is there a chance that these markings come from them?” Ken speaks up.

The group looks to Yoko and yourself for answers.

“It’s not impossible…” You begin to say.

“But as immortal as we claim to be, we can still die. The average life span is somewhere around 500-700 years. They would be pushing 1,000 if not older,” Yoko finishes.

“Did you have any suspects Wednesday?” Divina chimes in.

Wednesday begins to point to the evidence board, “There’s inconsistencies across the murders. They all look different, live in different areas, various ages, even the way they are being killed seems different in each circumstance. In some places I’ve found some typical Vampire hunter weapons, stakes, silver, matches. However, with respect to the scale of the crimes it is unlikely that they’re working alone.”

Enid begins to speculate, “So we think the elders Vampires are teaming up with the Vampire hunters? How does that work?”

“Well, the motivation is there for both parties. If the elders are still alive, they have to be powerful beings. Even if the hunters wanted to kill them, they probably couldn’t,” you offer her an answer.

“That or the hunters could be under hypnosis. So, they have no choice but to work with the elders,” Yoko adds on.

“So, what’s the plan Addams?”

Bianca’s question refocuses the attention on Wednesday. You all can see the gears spinning in her brain. This was tedious work, not something that could be wrapped up instantaneously.

“We’ll start by getting the book from Amdis. Then I have a few leads we can follow.”

It wasn’t a full plan just something structured enough to start. Things could develop and change depending on what you found in the book, so it made sense to keep things open.

You weren’t necessarily fond of bringing everyone to your house to collect the book, but it was the most efficient thing to do. That way you guys would be able to check out Wednesday’s leads together straight after.

You were hoping that your aunt wouldn’t be at the house when you arrived. It was a silly thing to hope for, you knew she was an introvert. Your key wasn’t in the door for 3 seconds before it was yanked open.

“Back from finding yourself in the woods already? Oh, and you’ve brought guests.”

You lead your friends into the house going straight to the living area. The book you were looking for should be somewhere on the bookcase. Locating it is easy; it sticks out amongst the rest. You’re scared to touch it, the burning sensation still very fresh in your mind. Wednesday can sense the hesitation from your side, she picks up the book, tucking it under her arm.

“We haven’t come to stay, I just need to grab something, and we’ll be on our way,” you call out to your aunt.

“On your way where exactly?”

Your mind goes blank, but thankfully Enid cuts in, “We’re going on a little friends vacay. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. With work and life and everything else, we just thought it would be fun to recapture some of that teenage magic before we forget what it felt like.”

“Well, this is more practical then locking yourself in the woods alone, I suppose,” Amdis states.

Your jaw twitches at the slight jab, “More inspiring to have my friends by my side.”

“One last question, where do you think you're taking that book?”

Your face drops with the question, “I’m just doing like you said, caring a little more about our people.”

Amdis crosses her arms over her chest, “I’m just supposed to take that at face value when you have the world’s most unnerving detective by your side? How do you even know that books about Vampires?”

“I have seen this symbol before, why are you making such a big deal of it?”

Amdis stares at you in disbelief, “Because you clearly think I’m some sort of idiot. You’re standing here lying to me like I haven’t known you, your whole life.”

“I’m not a child anymore Amdis, I don’t need you to babysit me. We both know you didn’t want to in the first place,” you shoot at her.

“Is that how you really feel? You want to lay it all out, fine. No, I wasn’t ready to become a parent at 18, but you were all I had. My parents were long gone, and my sister was dead. I knew what it felt like to be alone, to be abandoned, and I didn’t want that for you, Y/n. I sacrificed the little that I had for you, and I’d do it all over again because you’re my family and I love you. Yet, you repay me for my sacrifice with lies, deceit, and accusations. All because I care about you.”

The tension in the room finally explodes. Your friends watch you with careful eyes. Wednesday wants to reach out, but you move before she can. You find yourself sitting in a chair staring at your aunt, the empty expression on your face reminiscent of when you were young, and emotionally avoidant.

You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, trying to find the confidence in your posture. When you speak your voice betrays you, wavering with a soft timidity, “We’re going to stop the extinction.”

The anger vanishes from your aunt’s eyes, “What?”

“I’m going to help save our people, with or without your blessing. It’s dangerous, it’s risky, and perhaps it’s even a little naïve, but Amdis you were right, our people are dying. I’ve seen it and I just can’t stand idly by.”

She exhales audibly, “I’m going with you.”

“But-"

“Kid you’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m going to let you go on a literal suicide mission without me. Besides, you’ll all be better off having an expert on your side.”

Bianca interrupts, “We were trying to get her to bring you along in the first place.”

You glare at the siren, “Fine since we’ve figured this out so graciously, I need a minute alone with my aunt. So, talk amongst yourselves and don’t break anything in my house.”

Your aunt leaves the room first and you attempt to follow her. A gentle grasp on your hand stops your briefly.

“Are you going to be alright?”

You squeeze her hand lightly, “I’ll be fine, Wednesday. It’ll be quick, just start looking through the book.”

You squeeze her hand once more before going after your aunt. She’s waiting for you in your room. You close the door behind you as the two of you stare at each other.

“I’m sorry for lying to you. I just didn’t want you to try and stop me,” you admit.

“Kid, I know it feels like I’m getting in your way sometimes. It’s not that I don’t believe in you, because I do. You’re one of the brightest minds I’ve ever encountered. I've watched you succeed in spite of everything you’ve been through. I love you and I’m proud of you. I just- I don’t want to lose you too,” you see the tears begin to well in her eyes.

Though she stands defensively, you still make your way across the room to wrap her up in a hug. Her head falls onto your shoulder as you tightly hug her.

“I couldn’t have done any of it with you. You became the parent I needed you to be and I'm grateful for it, I love you for it. You’re not going to lose me, I promise,” you sway with the embrace.

Amdis pushes herself out of the embrace gently, wiping at her eyes, “Let’s go save our people.”

Upon returning to the living room Wednesday presents the book to Amdis holding it up a picture of a man.

“Do you know who this man is?”

“Ulysses Obrien, he was a secretary of sorts. He worked with the elders, even after the territory expansion. Why?”

Wednesday holds up her phone and a modern picture of a man that strongly favors the one in the book is displayed, “Because he’s my first lead.”

With the pictures side by side in front of you, the theory of other Vampires being involved in the extinction was becoming more and more likely. The fact you were looking at the historian of the elders was proof enough they could live that long. The thought of the power alone was intimidating, but you couldn’t run from it. You believed in it too much now; you were going to save the Vampires from extinction.

#lowkeyerror #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams fic #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #divina wednesday #kent wednesday #ajax petropolus

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