#the lodge of sorrows | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whorelaud · 2 months ago

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OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (08)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content mature content, nsfw; making out, nipple sucking, teasing, hickies, praise, dry humping (?), pet names, sexual tension, fluff!! sneaking around, fights and arguments, angst

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 07 ! 08 ¡ 09

Your skin burned; heat radiating off your entire body throughout the whole meeting. Rafe’s gaze pierced holes through you, unable to keep his eyes away from you, even with your father mere inches away, the small distance barely separating you.

The meeting soon came to an end, a sigh of relief escaping your throat the moment the elders shot up from their seats, shaking your parents’ hands as they bid goodbye’s. You scrambled to hide behind your mom, awaiting Rafe and your brother’s leave; just in case the latter puts you in the spot, offering to drive you back, and make things even more awkward than they were.

After the incident with Ryan, you both tended to be more careful, sneaking around to spend time with each other once everyone fell asleep (like literally… you’d make Rafe double check whether Ryan fell asleep, not choosing to put yourself at risk with the situation). It was oddly thrilling, though your words spoke otherwise, you found joy in telling Rafe off as he drags you to a dim corner away from everyone’s eyes, a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins the moment he connects your lips with his, the gesture assuring you in a way; pushing your worries down the pit of your stomach.

Ryan was also keeping watch, although Rafe brushed off his assumptions, the latter insisted the phone was yours, growing more suspicious when Rafe snatched it before he could get a hold of it. Hiding the whole thing from your brother felt as if something bitter lodged in your throat, one you couldn’t bring yourself to swallow down.

It was horrible, with the thrill and giddiness came worry and guilt, that even if you were happy, the voices in the back of your head would hold you back, reminding you of the hell you created out of yourself. You were at a point where all you could do was wait, enjoy each moment in hopes of it lasting forever, merely going with the flow for the sake of happiness you’ve forced yourself to appreciate, though it wasn’t worthy of, no amount of assuring convincing you otherwise.

The deadline for your trip was approaching, with each passing second, minute, hour. And for that, you chose to push down your emotions, enjoy the company of your friends while they were within reach, knowing you weren’t going to see them for the next months; years, even. And Rafe, yeah, the mere thought of dealing with the long distance had you stressing, unable to handle him being a few hours drive away.

In that short while you spent with your friends had a lasting impact, influencing a big part of your life, one you weren’t aware was missing. It was as if this trip was meant to heal you, pay off all your pain in sorrow with the company of others, even if not much was being done, as you spent most of your time hanging out on the beach near the Airbnb.

You were still grateful, though, impatiently waiting to get home after your friends suggested a girls’ night out. You swiftly agreed, because who were you to refuse? Besides, you didn’t fully dislike the idea of it, as it would probably help get your mind off things.

You hurried to get changed upon your arrival, sprinting up the stairs with the intention of saving yourself a bit of time. You took an everything shower, styled your hair, did your makeup, and picked something out to wear, not wanting to delay your leave any longer, and waste the precious time your friends spared you.

Everything was fine, until it came to finding your desired pair of shoes. A puzzled expression settled on your face once you realized your Converse were nowhere in sight, almost as if they vanished into thin air. You searched the entirety of the closet for them, growing panicked when Cleo soon seeked your presence, asking whether you were ready.

“I can’t find my converse,” you answered, eyebrows knitting with frustration. “I’m sure I put them here, where did they go?”

“Your converse?” Clep questioned, tilting her head as she observed the now mess of a closet. “I think I saw them in the garage, are they white?”

“Yeah,” You perked up at that, standing to your feet in an instant. “Why are they in the garage?”

“Girl, I don’t know.” Cleo chuckled, shaking her head. “You should grab them, we’re leaving in a few.”

“Lifesaver.” you sighed, planting a brief kiss to her cheek before you were off to the garage, entering from the door attached to the kitchen.

You fanned away the dust fogging your vision, attention shifting to the sun invading the space through the slightly open garage door. You quickly got to searching for your shoes, yelping with excitement when you spotted it lying around, along with your pair of white crocs (God knows how these ended up here). You hurried to put them on, struggling in the process, and sighing with relief after you managed to insert one of them around your foot.

Your action cut short, breath hitching as a familiar hand sneaked around your waist, halting you in your spot. You wasted no time to turn around, eyes widening in shock when your gaze landed on Rafe, a knowing smile leisurely dancing around his lips at your reaction.

“You showed up.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “You took so long, I didn’t think you would.”

“What are you doing?” Your lips parted in a gasp, shoving the latter by the shoulder. “The garage door is open, Rafe. What if someone saw you?!”

“What, I can’t see my girl now?” His gaze flickered to your lips, leaning his arm over the chair you made yourself comfortable on. He then leaned forward, capturing your lips in a soft, yet deliberate kiss, instantly interrupted once you shoved him away. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” You repeated through gritted teeth, “Were you the one who stole my shoes?”

“What? No!” He said in between giggles, the cockiness in his tone immediately giving away the white lie. “You know I would never.”

“You idiot!” You huffed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re gonna get us caught if you keep doing this.”

“You barely make time for me now,” he pouted, watching as you strived to put the other pair of shoes on. “I had to take action, since someone is playing hard to get.”

A scoff escaped your throat at the snarky comment, firmly tying the shoelaces into a knot before you stood to your feet, straightening your back to catch glimpse of Rafe, whose eyes followed your every move.

“What if I never wore my converse?” You snickered, pursing your mouth into a thin line to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Then what, would you have still waited for me?”

“Without a doubt,” he replied with no hesitation. “I knew you’d wear them, though; you always do.”

“Whatever,” you playfully rolled your eyes, disregarding the way your face flushed with heat, expression giving your shyness away. “I need to leave.”

“So soon?” His eyebrows curled with disappointment, as he pressed one of his hands to your hips, using the gesture to pull you closer. He tilted your head with the tip of his fingers, instantly crashing his lips into yours in a teasing kiss, teeth lightly grazing over your bottom lip before he pulled away. “I jus’ got ahold of you,” and another kiss, “care to spare me a few minutes?”

“This is not working on me, Rafe.” You pushed him off, though you fully melted in his hold, wanting nothing but to get a taste of his lips again. “You know I can’t, Sarah will kill me if I’m late.”

“There you go with Sarah,” he huffed, rolling his eyes as he moved away, giving you enough space to get through. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” You giggled, scrunching your nose at his reaction. “I’ll be back soon, don’t be upset.” You glimpsed around, eyeing the place carefully before you grabbed his face, not giving Rafe time to process the situation before you were leaping him in a soft kiss, one bidding him goodbye, and leaving him craving more. “Bye, I’ll miss you.”

At that, Rafe grins, admiring as you walked away, now creating somewhat of a distance between you two. He waved his hand in your direction, swaying his body back and forth with mere giddiness. “Text me!”

You nod in response, chuckling before strolling your way in your friends’ direction, instantly flashing Sarah an apologetic smile upon catching glimpse of her sulky expression.

Rafe stretched his arms over his head, letting his eyes fall shut as a groggy groan escaped his throat, the action falling interrupted when he turned in the door’s (the one leading to the kitchen) direction, and spotted Ryan, whose glare puzzled Rafe, unable to read his mind, and know what he was thinking.

“Ryan,” He nervously started, “How long have you been here?”

“Not long,” the latter mumbled, exhaling through his parted lips. “Wanted to check why this door was open.”

“Oh,” Rafe relaxed, partially due to the explanation, pausing before he continued. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “I got takeout, wanna eat?”

“Sure.” Rafe nodded, following in Ryan’s steps when he took his leave, and making sure to close the door once he was inside. His eyebrows quirked upon his gaze landing on the table, confused on why there was no food plated on the hardwood. “Where’s the food?”

“On the porch.” Ryan dismissed, escorting Rafe outside. He took a seat on one of the chairs, quickly joined by rafe as he reached for one of the boxed foods splayed on the table. “Help yourself out.”

Ryan didn't need to tell him twice as he dug in, munching on his food while admiring the rocky waves. It was a beautiful sight, calming Rafe in a way, though that didn't last forever as he took notice of the latter, who stuck to playing with the noodles instead of eating.

“Why aren't you eating?” Rafe asked, addressing Ryan with his chin. “Do you not like it?”

Ryan remained silent, gaze yet fixed on the food in his lap, letting silence seep in before he cut through it. “I saw you earlier.”

“Me?” Rafe scoffed through a mouthful of food, leaning back in his chair. “When?

“In the garage, with my sister.” Rafe almost chokes when Ryan replies, mouth stilling for a moment. “You know, Bug; the same girl you referred to as a sister.”

Fuck. He knows.

Rafe’s heart drops at that, fully abandoning the food he had in hand, tossing it on the table as he casually spins in Ryan’s direction, a mere attempt of maintaining a calm expression, as if he wasn't a panicking mess deep down.

“What do you mean?” He feigned oblivion, blinking far too many times for his liking.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rafe.” Ryan stifles out a sarcastic laugh, turning to face Rafe, who despite his cool expression, turned red with nervousness. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don't.” Rafe lied through his teeth, gulping when Ryan straightened up, getting off the chair in an instant.

Ryan gave Rafe no time to process the situation, swinging a punch to his face, immediately causing the latter to stumble back, fully taken aback by the gesture.

Sure, they’ve had their fair share of arguments, but it never got this bad; to the point where they needed to involve violence.

“You’re fucking my sister, huh?” He then punches him again, and in that moment, awareness washed over Rafe, as he realized this was it. The truth was out, Ryan found out. “Out of everyone, you go for my sister?!”

Rafe sat there, didn't even bother swinging back, or defend himself, hence he knew he deserved it. He hid this for far too long, letting the guilt build up instead of owning up to it and being honest with his best friend. He let Ryan yank him up, then throw him to the floor, then proceeded to relax as he threw another punch to his face, completely wrecking his features with bruises that formed within seconds.

“I thought you were my best friend,” Ryan grunted out, now pressing Rafe to the floor with his knees locking him in place. “I told you,” a punch, “not to fucking” and another, “touch my sister!”

Rafe almost laughs at the statement, choosing to swallow it down, as his friend was already furious; he’d completely lose it if Rafe were to open his mouth, let alone laugh.

He couldn't help it, though, giggling when he caught a glimpse of Ryan’s upset expression, perhaps not taking the situation as seriously as he truly should.

Ryan pauses at that, eyebrows curling with confusion, as to why the latter suddenly erupted into a fit of chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”

“God, you’re ridiculous.” Rafe muttered through a breath, causing Ryan to perk with pent-up anger.

“What did you say?” Ryan mumbles through gritted teeth, failing to hold himself back.

Rafe straightened in his position, groaning once he pushed Ryan off, letting the latter fall to his side. His lips gaped in pain, hissing when his fingers brushed over the bruise near his mouth upon noticing the blood gushing out.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Rafe asked, a smug smirk slowly tugging at his lips.

“You want me to fuckin’ kill you?” Ryan spat out, face fuming with anger. “You think my sister is a whore? You can sleep with her and call it a night? Huh?”

Rafe’s teeth clenched at that, tugging Ryan by the collar of his shirt. He yanked him back, veins trailing a path to beneath his buzzed hair, unable to contain himself, nor fight the urge to maintain patience.

“Don’t cross the line, Ryan.” He threatened, tone serious, as well as the expression smothering across his face. “Say shit like that one more time and I’ll fuckin’ kill you, y’hear me? I could easily take you down; kill you if I wanted, but I won't, ‘cause you're my best friend.” He then paused, seeking Ryan's gaze through his foggy vision before he continued. “I won't let you assume shit, okay? You can't say bullshit like this and expect me not to say anything.”

“Assume? You’ve been hiding the whole fuckin’ thing from me.” Ryan scoffed, ridiculed by Rafe’s words. “You know how I get when I’m angry, Rafe, don’t fucking tempt me.”

“Let it all out, Ryan.” Rafe let go of him, holding onto the chair for support to get himself off the ground, quickly standing to his feet. “I like her, and I’m willing to do anything to be with her, even if I lose myself doing it.” Rafe grabbed his phone from the table, along with his wallet, as he inserted them in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m not letting her go, no amount of convincing could change my decision.”

Ryan sat there and watched, gaze following Rafe as he strived to take his leave, immediately disappearing out of the latter’s sight. Telling (?) his best friend felt like something heavy getting off his chest, though he still had plenty to worry about. It was nice, knowing he won't have to hide his feelings away anymore.

He planned to keep the incident between him and Ryan for now, not wanting you to find out, just for a fight to break down between you and your brother. For now, the least he could do is avoid you, favorably till his bruises healed.

And that’s exactly what he did. Rafe never left his room, even after you came back, sticking to texting you instead, and refusing to see you, though you hinted your want to meet him.

The latter wasn't budging, brushing off your attempts by changing the topic, and before you knew it, night has approached, later followed by you falling into deep slumber, only realizing you fell asleep after randomly waking up in the middle of the night to your phone abandoned on your pillow, after your many shots of convincing Rafe to see you.

He’ll come around, you were probably going to see him during breakfast tomorrow.

Or at least you hoped.

Rafe never showed up for breakfast.

You were confused, cluelessly staring at your food while your friends filled the room with chaos, failing to notice the disappointment sprawling across your face.

You’ve grown used to the teasing comments Rafe would throw in your direction, wishing he was there to at least keep you company. You miss him, so much, it was driving you crazy. Throughout your nearly two months of staying here, this is the longest it's been since you last spoke to Rafe, or seen him in person; and that alone had you spiraling with frustration.

Something was wrong. It wasn't a typical lazy morning for Rafe, as he always manages to squeeze in a bit of quality time, despite how hectic his schedule would get. This time around, he didn't even bother explaining the reason behind his sudden disappearance, remaining a mystery with each time your curiosity grew.

That of course, lasted till the afternoon, when you fortuitously stumbled upon Rafe as he sneaked his way out to the bathroom, not catching glimpse of you down the hall; staring him down with a million thoughts wandering through your head. He clicked the door shut, taking the opportunity for granted when you strolled your way in his direction, disregarding the fact that others could see you, and only focusing on Rafe, while you patiently waited for him to exit the bathroom.

The sound of the door unlatching made you perk up, breath knocking out of your chest when your gaze landed on Rafe, who froze, a look of discomfort instantly spreading on his face. His face, it was bruised, freckled with purple patches that covered a decent amount of his features, you almost didn’t recognize him.

He muttered out your name through a breath, not looking too fond of getting caught in this condition, clearly uncomfortable with you trying to read his expression like you knew exactly what happened, and how he was feeling. With a gulp, the latter started again, tone evident, in contrast to his emotions. “What are you doing here?”

“What happened to your face?” You asked, reaching out for his face, merely for the latter to dodge it as he grasps your wrist in between his fingers, holding it firm and in place.

“Nothin’, I got drunk and accidently got into a fight.” Rafe lied through his teeth, loosening his hold around your hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t leave the house yesterday, Rafe.” You exclaimed, in response to his deceiving statement. “Who did this to you? Was it Topper? Did he show up while we were gone?”

“C’mon,” he clicked his teeth, giggling to brighten the mood. “You think I’m that weak?”

“This is not a laughing matter, Rafe!” You huffed, eyebrows knitting with frustration. “You were jus’ fine, how did you get all these bruises?”

“Baby, it’s nothing, like I said, I got drunk and–” his sentence was cut short as he jolted back, the muscular figure in view causing you to gasp before you stumbled back, eyes immediately widening in shock upon catching sight of Ryan, now pressing Rafe to the wall.

“‘Fuck are you doing, Rafe?” He asked through gritted teeth, tightening his hold around the collar of Rafe’s shirt when the latter remained silent, leisurely fluttering his eyes shut in response. “Didn’t I warn you, can’t you jus’ fuckin’ respect me for once?”

Rafe scoffed at that, angling his head back as he stifled out a laugh, hands landing on top of Ryan’s, before he shoved them off, slyly fixing the collar of his shirt. “You’re full of shit.”

“What did you say?” Ryan moved forward, fingers clutching into a fist at Rafe’s words, aiming to swing at him, merely for you to interfere with the arm you pressed to his chest.

“What is going on here?” You questioned with disbelief, gaze flickering between your brother and Rafe, hoping for an explanation, an answer, at least.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Rafe assured, addressing you with a tight-lipped smile. “Jus’ go back to your room, I’ll catch you later.”

“Motherfucker,” Ryan spat back, venom filling the void in his tone. “You’re doin’ this to piss me off, aren’t you?”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now…” you muttered under your breath, confusing no one but yourself. “Why are you fighting?”

“Why are you involving her?” Rafe mumbled, jaw clenching with anger. “Might as well jus’ tell everyone else, huh? Yeah everyone, my sister and my best friend have feelings for each other, and I’m a lil’ bitch that can’t handle things not going my way, so I decided to break things off between them, then beat my friend into a pulp to feel better about myself.”

What?

Your lips parted in an inaudible gasp, halting in your tracks at the truth, and the reason behind their argument. Fuck, Ryan found out.

He’d have to find out one day, you knew that, but right now? Your heart instantly sunk to your stomach, breath heaving with each exhale departing your lips, unaware of what to do with yourself, and the new information that practically slapped their way into your brain.

By the looks of it, Ryan did not handle the truth well, hence the proof was evident on Rafe’s face.

“I asked one thing of you, Rafe.” Ryan stated, “One thing; don’t fucking touch my little sister, and what did you do? You go n’ kiss her? What, you expect me to sit back and be happy about this?”

“What do you wanna do?” Rafe’s face twisted with irritation, arms moving in front of his chest as he straightened up, now invading Ryan’s personal space. “What, you’ll try to separate us? I already fucking told you, I’m not letting her go, Ryan. I– I like her, so much; you of all people should know how serious this is for me.”

“Go fuck yourself for all I care.” Ryan choked out a sarcastic laugh, “I know you, you’re a fucking asshole, and a scumbag who only cares about himself, don’t come talkin’ about serious shit, I know you won’t treat my sister well.”

“You’re overstepping it,” Rafe started, tone serious, a slight warning for Ryan. “Don’t make me do somethin’ I’ll regret.”

“Yeah?” Ryan mocked, getting under Rafe’s skin. “What are you gonna do?”

“Stop talking.” You interrupted, sighing aloud with exasperation. “Just shut up, what if someone hears you? What will you tell them?”

“But–” Ryan started.

“Don’t.” You beat him to it, fluttering your eyes shut before you continued. “Go to your rooms, and handle this privately, please. Don’t start saying dumb shit only to regret it later on.”

At that, both of them fall quiet, letting silence seep through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension that could kill. Ryan took a moment to collect himself, before wandering back to his room, knowing if he spoke he wouldn't stop talking.

As for Rafe, the latter stared into the void, watching as you walked away, knowing he can’t speak up, in case he says something and ruins things for himself, messing them up more than they already were. Instead, he observed as you disappeared off to your room, lingering for just a moment, in hopes of seeing you for a few seconds, a mere glimpse, if that was too much to ask for.

Disappointment washed over his chest once he realized you were gone, hopelessly heading back to his room, with the intentions of locking himself in there forever, maybe until he reflects on the dumb decisions his mind keeps suggesting, letting the voices in his head take over each time he was in the slightest bit agitated. However, that wasn’t long, as he was pulled out of his head when a soft knock erupted through the door, that if not for the silence, Rafe wouldn’t have heard it.

His brows curled with puzzlement, hesitating to unlatch the door, only twisting the doorknob when another knock came through. Rafe’s chest raised at the sight of you, straightening up when he came in view, slightly taken aback by your presence. His gaze trailed down to the first-aid kit in your hold, heart quickening in pace upon realizing your reason for disappearance.

The air filled with comfortable silence, Rafe didn’t dare cut through it, merely moving to the side to let you through, with you quietly accepting the invitation as you let yourself inside. Rafe shut the door, before he followed in your steps, deliberately approaching you as if not to startle you, admiring while you unpacked the boxed medicine in the process.

A smile threatened to tug at his lips, fading in an instant when you turned, addressing him with your sharp gaze, that he somehow couldn’t read, falling blank since earlier.

“Sit.” You ordered, dipping a q-tip in the rubbing alcohol that came with the kit.

Rafe did as told, shoulder bumping into yours in the process of getting himself to the bed. He made himself comfortable on the edge, angling his head back to make it easier for you to apply the medicine.

You tapped the ointment to the bruise near his mouth, hushing out an apology when he hissed in pain, continuing to clean up the wound, though it was probably too late now. You still wanted to do it, though, guilt settling in the pit of your stomach once you found out it was your brother’s doing.

“I knew it.” You whispered through a shuddered breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect him to be this upset when he found out.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Rafe spoke, regretting it as he grunted in pain, his now disinfected wound burning when he moved his mouth. “It’s fine, I know how he gets when he’s angry.”

“You’re both idiots.” You scoffed, a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. “Why were you provoking him, then?”

“For fun.” He chuckled, letting tension linger in the air.

You continued disinfecting the bruises, almost crumbling as his arm instinctively found the curse of your waist, fingertips rubbing soothing circles to the exposed flesh around your side. You tried not to react to the touch, feigning oblivion to his legs locking you in place, giving you no chance to escape him, or the desire pumping through your insides.

“You’re so pretty.” Rafe’s voice abruptly broke out, earning your attention as you stopped what you were doing, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

“Well, you’re not.” You teased, covering your flusteredness, wrapping up the first aid kit once you were done. “You’re busted, don’t get beaten up again.”

Rafe squeezed your hip at the playful statement, chuckling along with you, though that gesture of his was desperate, speaking for all his wants and needs. “I’d gladly take another beating for you.”

Your heart raced in your chest, mouth pressing into a thin line to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. You hated how sappy the snarky comment was, making you feel shy like a girl with her first crush, as if you’ve never experienced anything romantic before.

“You’re an idiot.” You hushed out, almost gasping when Rafe’s fingers lightly tugged the waistband of your shorts, leisurely slipping them underneath, just enough to receive a reaction out of you.

A hum of content rummaged out of his chest, tilting his head back even more, until the yearn in his gaze was visible, and in view, unable to hide it anymore. He fluttered his eyes up at you, pupils dilating with need, as new found tension seeped through, unlike the other times something bloomed between you two.

This time, it was different, body submitting each time his touch would linger, clearly expressing the keenness heavy in his heart, now finally able to showcase it through action, with no one to interrupt, nor guilt to interfere.

No thoughts were thought, no words were said, both of your minds were blank, full of emotions, and hushed desire. A breathy sigh stuttered out of your chest, fingers lightly grazing Rafe’s arms as they leisurely trailed up his shoulders, till you reached the crook of his neck.

You engulfed his neck in your hands, thumbs gently pressing to his adam’s apple when you tilted his head back more, hinting that you were just as eager as he was, unable to put an end to the yearn eating through your heart, eventually aiming to do something about it.

“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, fingers landing over yours.

He wasted no time, immediately standing to his feet as he captured your lips in a kiss, knocking a breath out of your chest in the process. You stumbled back, slightly taken aback, though you quickly adjusted to the situation, slowly moving your lips over Rafe’s, able to taste the blood on his mouth.

It was bittersweet, raw, full of emotions, speaking louder than you can put into words. Rafe’s lips moved with a motive, hot breath fanning over yours as he licked and nipped at your mouth, taking the gasp you let out for granted to slip his tongue in between your parted lips, and letting the warmness of your mouth engulf his own.

His tongue met yours halfway through, a whine muffling its way out when his teeth grazed over your lip, aiming to explore every part of your mouth, even if it meant spending the rest of his life here in this moment. You tasted so fucking good, hell, eve better than the last time he’s kissed you.

Rafe was drunk on your lips, not a thought behind his eyes as he stumbled back, littering sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your hot mouth in the process of sitting himself down, tugging your head downwards with him. You almost chuckled at the gesture, action interrupted when he pulled away, eyes hazing with pure lust.

Loud breaths heaved their way out of his chest, lips parting with a glossy layer of spit. His hooded pupils dilated with yearn, hands exploring your body like no other, unable to keep them to himself. His fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, sloppily pushing it up before his mouth found the plush of your stomach.

Your head tilted back with pleasure, eyes forcing shut as you took in the sensation of Rafe’s tongue swirling around the low of your stomach, nibbling on the skin for a reaction out of you. He’d linger for a second, planting a soft kiss over the spot to soothe away the pain, and hell, did it feel good.

He savored every bit of skin, whatever kept his mouth busy was not preventing him from caressing your body, worshiping you like you’re the only thing that matters. And you were, in Rafe’s eyes, things could not get any better, he’s wanted nothing but to do this, taste you, do this without the voices in his head lecturing him over the consequences of his actions.

“So perfect.” He muffled, thumb pressing to the material of your bra, while yet holding your shirt in place. “Fuckin’ killin’ me, everything you do drives me crazy.”

“Rafeee," you whined, (holding onto his non existent hair) fingernails digging to his shoulders, the sensation earning a grunt out of Rafe, yet littering love bites to your stomach.

He nipped and kissed the soft flesh, one of his hands kneading the plush of your ass, using the pressure of his hold to push you down, causing you to almost fall as you landed in his lap, immediately straddling him, and making yourself comfortable.

You adjusted yourself around the boy, almost shuddering when his hardon brushed over your ass, swallowing down your nervousness when his gaze leveled with yours, not breaking eye contact. His stares burned holes through you, you felt shy, and the need to get away before you melt in his arms.

A sly smirk tugged at his bruised lips, tongue toying with his teeth as he leisurely tugged your shirt with both of his hands, slipping it over your head, until you were left with the thin fabric of your bra.

His eyes hungrily trailed to your cleavage, throat running dry when he gulped, vision going blurry at the sight of your boobs perfectly sitting in place, begging to be touched and caressed by him.

“You sure about this?” He asked for consent, letting his gaze flicker to yours for a brief second.

“Mhm.” You nodded, sweeping him in a quick kiss, forehead connecting with his once you pulled away. “Now do somethin’ please.”

“No need to say it twice, baby.” He whispered, licking into your mouth. One of his hands sneaked its way to your back, landing around your bra, swiftly unclipping it, until the straps fell loose around your arms.

A wave of nervousness came crashing, watching with haste as Rafe froze, eyes flickering to your half-exposed nipples, now freckled with goosebumps due to the chilly breeze invading the hidden flesh.

Rafe carefully hauled the strings down, till they were off your arms, freeing your chest from that stupid bra. Rafe’s mouth salivated at the sight, the bulge in his pants twitching with need. They were perfect, I mean, come on, Rafe was no virgin, but seeing you like this has no reason making his mind race with all sorts of thoughts, like a loser about to have sex for the first time.

This was better than his imagination, so much better than letting his head wander off to how you’ll scream his name when he fucks you, tits bouncing beautifully while you ride his cock. It was a sight, one that made him feel dumb, and idiotic, for even thinking he can have you.

“God,” he groaned, cupping one of your tits in his hold. “Such a fuckin’ brat, always makin’ me feel dirty.”

Your back arched, chasing after the fraction of his thumb rolling your now hardened nipple in his fingers. You were insanely turned on, the sensation making your brain fuzzy, now dizzy all over. And if you thought that felt good, then you were wrong, completely jerking in Rafe’s arms when his mouth captured your nipple in between his lips.

His mouth glided over the skin, coating it with a layer of hot spit, as he swirled his tongue just around the hard nub, causing you to yelp with pleasure. His teeth lightly grazed the sensitive flesh, mouth pooling with thirst, cherishing every second of this like a man starved.

He sucked and nibbled, marking your flesh, and hissing when your hips rolled down, panties soaked with your juices. You couldn’t help it, despite Rafe’s hand pressing to your side, you continued, chasing after the sensation of his cock brushing over your ass through the thin material of your sheer sleep shorts.

“Fucking hell, doll, ‘that feel good?” He asked, squeezing your tit when you stuck to nodding. “Words baby, lemme hear you.”

“Feels so good, Rafe.” You muttered, Rafe’s crotch brushing over your clothed, slick folds with each time you grind your hips down.

“There you go.” He mewled out, “Be a good girl n’ show me how good I make you feel.”

Your body tingled all over at the statement, grinding down with all your might, as you feel your climax building up. Rafe, too, took notice of that, halting your hips in place to earn your attention.

“Wait.” He mumbled, lips parting in a shaky exhale.

“What?” You asked, fluttering your eyes open to catch glimpse of Rafe.

“Don’t.” He warned, “Wanna make you feel good.”

Oh.

“Hmm?” You hummed, slightly feeling shy under his gaze.

“We have all night, baby.” He stifled out a teasing laugh. “I wanna take my time; appreciate each and every inch of you.”

Rafe’s lips collided with yours in a soft peck, thumb rubbing soothing circles to the curve of your jaw.

“Let me take care of you.”

That was it. The only assurance you needed. You wanted this, more than anything.

Fuck the world, hell might as well get fucked too.

smut continuation

a/n all support is v much appreciated!! this one is my fav despite how poorly written it was 😭 i tried to portray the fight scene and the tension in a somewhat decent way but this is all i can manage sorry fellas </3 but yeah phew ryan finally found out... didnt handle it well but 😜 anyways!! next part might be an extra of their first time... pure smut continuing this chapter so lmk if you guys are interested HAHA won't guarantee it being good but... yeha!! its not a necessary read, doesnt add anything to the plot, but i still kinda want to do it yeahh!! with that being said, lmk your thoughts on this chapter <33

taglist is currently closed, however, in order to stay tagged, you must interct with the posts!

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x brat!reader #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #outer banks #drew starkey

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ybklix · 6 months ago

Text

KINKTOBER! ⁺˚⋆｡✧

˚‧｡⋆ SKZ ‘24, the masterlist:

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

OT8 INTRO: LUST

synopsis: Lee Minho plans a little getaway with his closest friends, their wives, and you, his girlfriend and most adored and prized possession, right after he intentionally reads your private diary and leaves him wandering with your writing about something particular.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

☾ BANG CHAN ☽˚.⋆

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

synopsis: As part of a college assignment, you interview a peculiar doctor about his success and long career, but then he starts telling you about the odd and unbelievable lifestyle he used to lead that got him there, claiming to be something you find funny at first, but then you get caught up in the details, causing tension and questioning reality. pairing: vampire!chrisbahng x inexperiencedfem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: corruption kink, breeding, choking, +more...

☾ LEE KNOW ☽˚.⋆

somebody’s watching me

synopsis: Meeting a mysterious and secretive man thrills every part of you, but unknowingly, he watches you from his window on a lonely night, not realizing that it will ignite a new behavior in him. pairing: lee minho x camgirl!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: voyeurism, sex toys, perv tendencies, +more...

☾ CHANGBIN ☽˚.⋆

like lovers do

synopsis: Your new boss is quite interesting, so the night lends itself to a few drinks and the discovery of never-before-explored bodies in such an inappropriate but magnetic act. pairing: ceo!seochangbin x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: deepthroat, dom/sub tendencies, sir kink, +more...

☾ HYUNJIN ☽˚.⋆

ART DECO

synopsis: An eccentric and peculiar artist, whose art is well known for its captivating and erotic method, is fascinated by you, who naively thought you just accepted a small job for him. pairing: dom!hyunjin x sub!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: shibari ropeplay, bdsm, +more...

☾ HAN ☽˚.⋆

MIDNIGHT SHADOWS october 18th

synopsis: After discovering his wife's infidelity, a sorrowful man seeks fun and solace on a peculiar and dark night, whose twisted games of fate lead him to meet you, in such a strange way, in what seems to be a forbidden place where he shouldn't be. pairing: han jisung x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: amaurophilia, facefucking, impact play, +more...

☾ FELIX ☽˚.⋆

nocturnal whispers october 21st

synopsis: On a long and tedious night, you and your boyfriend decide to spend some time, openly trying new things. pairing: lee felix x fem!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: roleplay, sex toys, dreg kink, +more...

☾ SEUNGMIN ☽˚.⋆

unspoken storm

synopsis: On an unfortunate night of heavy rain you find yourself stuck without being able to move forward, until a kind man sees you and offers to give you lodging until the rain stops but he turns out to be your teacher; once being alone leads you to get to know each other better in such a specific way, exploring dangerous territories and forbidden fantasies. pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: spanking, corruption kink, +more...

☾ I.N. ☽˚.⋆

hotel california october 28th

synopsis: A young and naive Jeongin stays for a few days in a mysterious hotel with a certain strange vibe out of necessity but decides to stay after meeting you and in a way, until he has you, but everyone around him seems to keep secrets. pairing: rockstar!yangjeongin x fem!reader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: roleplay, chocking, +more...

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

OT8: Season of the witch october 31st

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★ ⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

INTERLUDES🕸️

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

BAHNG CHAN

⟶ pretty when you cry

⟶ in the night

⟶ teacher’s pet

⟶ dollhouse

⟶ playground

⟶ big bad wolf

⟶ be my daddy

⟶ sweater weather

⟶ little red riding hood

⟶ enjoy the ride

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

LEE MINHO

⟶ the uninvited

⟶ sad girl

⟶ behind closed doors

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

SEO CHANGBIN

⟶ asylum

⟶ onsen

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

HWANG HYUNJIN

⟶ lost muse ₊

⟶ ultraviolence

⟶ night time, my time

⟶ allure

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

HAN JISUNG

⟶ doll parts

⟶ don’t talk to strangers

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

LEE FELIX

⟶ trick or treat!

⟶ sinner

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

KIM SEUNGMIN

⟶ illicit affairs

⟶ veil of innocence

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

YANG JEONGIN

⟶ a little death

⟶ gods & monsters

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

OT8 / fem!reader x specific members:

⟶ LIAR (ot8)

⟶ burning desire (ot8 - 3 part series)

⟶ fight club (chan & minho)

⟶ I put a spell on you (han, felix, seungmin)

⟶ intruders (han & felix)

🎃 ̊ ̟ ꒷ ꒦ 🦇 ꒦ ꒷ ̟ ̊ 🎃

happy fall and spooky season⭒✧˖°.🕷 ๋࣭ ⭑✮₊ ⊹

playlist (i'm still working on it)

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twizzie-lairs · 1 year ago

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 7)

Quick Notes:

You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, have just died.

Alastor is about to find out.

Part 7:

The sound of a singular gunshot rang clearly in the night that had been so peacefully quiet up until that moment in time.

Alastor, with the engagement ring in his pocket, who had been peacefully reading a novel within the confines of your shared home, nearly ripped his book in half upon hearing the sound of a gunshot in these woods.

The forest around here was part of his private property, anyone who dared to trespass or hunt in his neck of the woods was shot on sight. Many people ignored the plentiful and very obvious warning signs, so it wasn't his fault so many people ended up becoming your and his meals. Everyone else just thought the law didn't apply to them, straight-up criminals. In his eyes, they all deserved it.

Thinking it was just another nuisance, a "tsk" left Alastor's mouth as he grabbed his shotgun and headed into the woods.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally caught sight of the transgressors. Two men that he, unfortunately, recognized right away as the men from the bar who liked to push his buttons by harassing you.

The seething rage pooled in his core, bubbling up into his chest. This was his chance to get rid of those nuisances once and for all.

They would trouble his darling no more.

For him to get into a better position to take the men out, he crouched down and quietly circled around them like a hunter playing with his prey.

After circling around to position himself behind the men, what he wasn't expecting to see was the most nightmarish sight he's ever seen.

His beloved sweetheart, soon to be betrothed, all disheveled and tied up against a blood-splattered tree with a bullet lodged in the middle of their forehead.

Your eyes were lifeless. There was no doubt about it, the love of his life was dead.

Alastor didn't need to even think before pulling the trigger on the men, shooting one after the other, over and over, even after their bodies had hit the ground.

He. Was. Enraged.

By the time Alastor was done with them, they looked like Swiss cheese, barely strung together.

Alastor's breath was heavy, his chest heaving, near hyperventilating, his eyes were enlarged and his mind was focused on one thing. You.

His beautiful love, he couldn't bear to see you in this state.

In his oddly manic and shocked state, he untied you from the tree and took your body back to your shared home in the woods not too far from here.

For a few moments, his rage was replaced by sorrow and mourning as he buried you in the backyard. As fucked up as he was in the head sometimes, he would rather die than think about eating you. You were sacred to him.

As he laid you down into the ground, he embraced you once last time and took the ring out of his pocket. He placed the ring onto your ring finger and kissed the top of your hand, "In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear."

After you were buried, the rage returned like a vicious tsunami. Oh he wasn't done with revenge just yet.

Every single man or woman that ever mistreated you or offended you, was put on his list.

This night was the catalyst that gave birth to the serial killer known as the "Bayou Killer".

Alastor stopped visiting Mimzy's bar since your death, with his sole focus and dedication in life going to hunting down those that had harmed you in life. After all, they deserved it, you were like an angel to him.

But what Alastor didn't stop doing, was broadcasting his radio show. So many of his connections were made because of his show, so it was a valuable resource to keep active, to use to his advantage.

Alastor continued living his life like this until every single name was crossed off his list.

It was then that it was time for his luck to run out.

Right upon the killing the very last person on the list, was Alastor also shot right square in the forehead.

Before his consciousness faded into black, all he could hear was the muffled panic of a stranger who seemed to be apologizing for mistaking him for some sort of animal.

All Alastor could do was chuckle at the irony of the whole situation, the maniacal laughter was the type that only a madman could produce- before everything went dark and he died.

He thought he would never see you again, because surely, his beloved sweetheart would end up in heaven right?

The answer to this would remain a mystery for many decades to come as Alastor descended into Hell and became who is now widely known in Hell as "The Radio Demon".

-> Part 8

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n109hunter · 3 months ago

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Fates Rewritten -

pairing: sylus x mc word count: 3,058 summary: After MC wakes up from an all-too-real dream, she struggles to piece together the fragments from another life - and rushes to seek out the only person who can soothe her sorrow. tags/warnings: SPOILERS for Beyond Cloudfall (Sylus Limited Myth), first person, angst, emotional hurt + a little comfort, established relationship a/n: This is my entry for the fanwork contest on twitter. I wish I'd had a little more time to polish it, but deadlines be deadlines. It was largely my need to get some of the intense emotions out after reading Beyond Cloudfall and "fix it" in a mostly canon compliant way.

(ao3 link)

I woke in a cold sweat, body aching with the all-too-real memory of growing horns and a tail - but more than that the pain of losing him. As if I’d really lived it. As if I’d really lost him.

I’m vaguely aware of tears streaming down my face as my hands clutch mindlessly at my chest. Unable to calm the racing of my heart, my lungs burn as if I’d just been fighting a horde of wanderers. My waking mind rails against the possibility of any of that being real, but I know - I know too damn well it was all true. My mind and body resonated with those memories and the damning pain too deeply to have been false.

A wellspring of grief swells up from my chest, emotions too big to name let alone reason with overwhelm me and get lodged in my throat. I have to see him. It’s the only thought I can firmly grasp onto as I choke on one sob after another.

Trembling from head to toe I climb out of bed, scrambling around my room as my body attempts to go through the habitual motions of getting ready. I go to grab a shirt but quickly drop it on the floor in favor of a jacket - I don’t have time to change, my pajamas are fine, I just need to see him. As I leave my apartment I almost forget my helmet, before hurrying back frantically to grab it.

It’s dark outside, probably some early hour - I could have called him, but those kinds of thoughts weren’t processing. The overlap of memories is disorienting: I didn’t have anything like a phone I could have called him with in that lifetime.

An orphan, raised on stories of slaying dragons, branded a sorceress to be executed… To be told such a fanciful story would have been one thing, but to remember it? Not everything entirely, nor clearly, but I remember enough. More than that: I remembered how I felt, and I can feel it all too keenly myself. The desperation, the anger, the desire, the hatred… And the love. The depth of our bond that tugs at me so violently now: I need to see him right fucking now.

From a street lamp overhead Mephisto tilted his head as he watched her amble towards her bike, her movements… odd. He was a smart enough bird to know something wasn’t right, and sent a message to Sylus.

I don’t think about how it is probably exceedingly dangerous to ride in my current state of mind. I’m too preoccupied taking countless fragments of moments and holding them to the light, seeing how they overlap.

“Do you know what you look like right now?” His voice asked me, layering gently over itself in two very different times.

“What a smug expression.” || “You’re a young dragon who just grew her horns.”

I remember when, indignantly, I bit his hand in an act of defiance against fate. And I remember when, with that confident, captivating look on his face, he bit my hand playfully in the café.

Speeding down the streets towards the N109 Zone, countless memories re-arrange themselves in my mind. How many times? How many times had he reached out to me, spoke to me in a secret language only we could know, hoping to trigger a spark.

And I had known it all along, deep down. From the first time I saw him, when I looked into his eyes and felt that insatiable urge to devour him. When I absorbed the aether core and saw that dreadful moment where his clawed hand grasped mine and stabbed him through. Every time our aether cores formed the linkage between us, or even that time in the cathedral, where we played the organ together…

“You actually remembered.” He had said.

How many times have I asked him to explain? And now… Now I think I might understand a little of why he didn’t. At the very least, I can’t imagine how to explain it if it was me who remembered first.

But at the end of my dream I was left alone, clutching the last fragment of his soul as my body painfully transformed. It was then I woke up with an anguish too great to bear, but also: a smoldering determination. Or rather, maybe it was better to call it ‘defiance’, of the fate we’d been handed. But I can’t fathom what might have possibly come next. With a grief that big, part of me doesn’t want to.

All I know for sure is: I have to see him. He’d been bearing the burden of it all this time alone, I can’t bear the thought of him being alone one more moment. To say nothing of the sickening nausea that wrenches my gut remembering how it had felt to watch him die. I have to see him with my own eyes, feel him with my hands, know that he is real and alive.

By the time I arrive at the base I’m somehow more disoriented than I had when I’d woke up. I feel like a time traveler several times over. The ride had been such a blur I barely remember it, which is a scary thought, but I don’t care to linger on it. My mind and body feel out-of-sync, and when my body sways it takes a second longer for my mind to correct it. I feel… drunk, almost, or drugged, like the first time I came to the N109.

What am I going to say to him? I wrack my brain for a single word to start with, but before I can grasp anything I’m torn back to a dream within a dream in a flower field, I think of the flowers he took me to see a few weeks ago.

Sylus is so damn good at reading my mind, would he know just by looking at me?

The familiar sound of a crow calling startles me, and when I shake my head the synchronization of my body and mind gets a little better. Mephisto lands on my shoulder, and it’s a comforting weight.

“…Were you following me?” I stroke a finger against his neck absently, out of habit. He leans into it as if enjoying the attention, but I suspect it’s more of a friendly gesture for my sake.

The doors swing open and the faces of the twins greet me.

“Hey there, boss-lady.” Kieran starts in his usual, friendly tone, but then it shifts as if he’s unsure of something. “Uhh, boss isn’t here right now, but he’s on his way.”

“He said to get you anything if you needed.”

For a moment I simply stare back at them as my brain processes these new inputs. As often as I come here nowadays, it wasn’t like they needed to roll out the red carpet for me or anything, so this welcome is… a little odd. Then it clicks, and I glance at Mephisto again.

“You told on me.” It feels nice and a little grounding to know my favorite mechanical crow is still looking out for me like always.

He turns his head away and gives a short, indignant caw. He’s being stubborn and a little shy.

“I’m just going to wait in his room…” I tell Luke and Kieran as I walk in, handing my helmet over to them. They step aside, but I hear them trailing behind me a little ways down the halls - they’re shuffling and dragging their feet on purpose.

“All right, but… just let us know if you need anything.” Then, silently, they fall back into the shadows.

Do I look as bad as I feel? My face does still burn from crying so much, and I feel tired enough for two lifetimes of shared memories.

Once I step into his room though, an inexplicable comfort washes over me. I feel a tension unravel and a new wave of grief as I hug myself, consoled in the smallest sense seeing signs of him.

Mephisto flutters over to his perch, but keeps a silent eye on me. Lingering in the middle of the room, I scan the familiar sights slowly. The art on the walls, the records and record player… My heart twists recalling that he hadn’t appreciated music ‘back then’.

It all makes sense, doesn’t it? The hordes of trinkets and weapons he collects are much the same as back then. I can’t help but wonder how many of the weapons were collected from people who had tried to kill him, like those kept in his lair in Tarus City.

A searing anger kindles within me at the thought of it, and a realization follows that once again my beloved has been branded a villain in this life. I cling to the anger, it’s so much easier to deal with than all the pain and grief, but it isn’t nearly enough.

I can’t bring myself to sit so I simply stand in the middle of the room, hugging myself tighter. What I need to do is get my thoughts and emotions under control, and figure out just what the hell I’m possibly going to say to him. But just thinking about how to open her mouth and utter the words makes me feel like I’ll start sobbing again. Or vomit. Maybe both.

Maybe he already knows. We’re bound together, we’ve shared dreams before… Again my thoughts derail as a heat warms my face recalling a certain dream I had a few months ago. I pat my cold hands against my cheeks, and internally squash down my shame. So what if he knows about that?

Except, he knew all along and never told me so many other things, too. Part of me desperately wants something to be angry and indignant about, but instead all I’m left with is a sweetly sharp and aching pain: I love him so much. He’s always trying to be so considerate of me, and I know it’s because he wants us to live this life that we have together, right here and now. I feel so sure of it in the depths of my soul, as if his heart beats steadily alongside my own whispering this answer.

Tears are running down my face again. How can one person cry so damn much?

The door opens behind me, and I realize I haven’t thought of a single thing to say to him. My throat feels tight and my brain is just as uncooperative as it’s been this entire time.

Behind me the familiar sound of his footsteps approaches, and he softly says my name like a question, gently coaxing me to look at him.

He told me before: between him prying and me opening up, he prefers the latter. Today, I might need him to pry a little. But more important than anything: I need to see him.

That one overwhelming feeling that brought me here turns me on my heel. Without hesitation I rush to him, taking his face between my hands and tracing every detail with my gaze. He does the same, searching my face for answers - not yet reading my mind, it seems.

I trace his jawline with my fingertips, brush my thumbs over his cheeks, my attention lingering briefly in places where scales grew like armor once. For the first time since I woke up I am seeing clearly, my body and mind in sync, the world and all things settling into place as I trace a finger down the bridge of his perfect nose and then brush it over those irresistible lips.

And of course, those eyes. His utterly captivating eyes that pull me in and keep me. It hurts to think that I might have ever been afraid of him. I know now better than ever before (and I definitely knew it before) but he is, of course, utterly deserving of that fear. But not from me. Never me.

Sylus’s hands rest on my waist. He doesn’t move away from my inspection, and for several moments says nothing either. He simply watches me in return, a slight furrow in his brow as he waits patiently - no doubt assessing every possibility as to what might have drove me here in this state. He’d raze Linkon - even the world - if something upset me. If I asked him to.

I need to put his mind at ease. I wet my lips and take in a breath, but the words die on my tongue.

“What happened?” He asks gently when he sees me struggle. Then, with a hint of pain -or maybe guilt- in his voice: “Did you have another bad dream?”

Despite everything, I smile. I also barely choke back a sob, but I still can’t help but smile. His hands draw up to cup my face and gently wipe the new tears from my raw cheeks. I manage a small nod to give him some measure of an answer, as I give him another look-over.

He’s here. Alive. My dragon is here with me. I have to tell him I remember.

But those aren’t the words that come spilling out.

“I love you.”

That’s the most important thing. Even if I can’t stop myself from crying again, I have to tell him this, even if I’m shaking as I press my hands to his chest, gripping the fine fabric of his suit and leaving wrinkles.

“I love you so much, Sylus.”

He looks a little stunned, which I might have delighted in any other time. It’s subtle, because it’s Sylus, but his brows are slightly raised and lips parted as he tries to make sense of the state I’m in and the words I’m saying. Maybe I’m making it worse.

“You-?” He starts to speak, maybe to ask something, or maybe he figured it out. But at long last the next words are there in my mouth full of bitterness and relief, hope and grief, and too many emotions to name let alone stomach, so I fling them out to be rid of them at last.

“I remember.”

It barely scratches the surface, but it tells him what he needs to know for the moment. In dozens of moments in our time together I have seen looks like this one on his face. Where memories overlap and he has to carefully bite back his words and feelings. I understand it very well now. Right now he’s wondering: ‘How much?’ and it’s not as though I could answer that for him in a single word. I’m certain there is still so much I don’t remember.

“Is that so?” He asks slowly, brushing a hand over my hair soothingly. “And what exactly did you remember?”

Yeah, I should have seen that one coming. I touch his face again, gazing into those stunning ruby eyes as I try to find more words. I’ll start simple.

“I remember a dragon.” Yes, that’s an easy place to start. In my memory he is breathtaking beyond words. “A beautiful, lonely dragon, who spoiled me rotten.” I feel a smile return to my lips, and I can feel the smug satisfaction of the Sorceress burn hot in my chest. ‘Rotten’, yes, by the standards of the Ivory City. But she had embraced her true desires, her true self.

Sylus closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a quiet laugh, a smirk on his lips.

“You actually remembered.” He sighs, and though he sounds relieved, there’s some other emotion I can’t quite place. It might be close to the ‘guilt’ that sometimes colors his voice when he feels bad about plaguing my dreams with his wounds. Which seems fitting, in a strange sense. Painfully fateful in another.

How many of those dreams were actually ‘real’? Like the dreams we created between our bound souls, like warmth born between clasped hands.

It doesn’t matter right now. Probably.

“But… you left me.” I can barely get the words out, they’re quiet and break under the weight of emotions, but at the very least I don’t cry any more. I might actually be all cried out, but my head is definitely starting to hurt about it.

“You should know that’s not possible.” He speaks in a low, soft voice. There’s an undercurrent of forcefulness that betray strong feelings, but he’s purposefully speaking so very gently. He takes my opposite hand, twining our fingers together. “Our souls are bound together. I am always with you.”

“But you died.” I know it’s true, I felt it. He isn’t exactly denying it either.

“And I’m here now.”

His words are irrefutable. That’s all that matters now, isn’t it? It’s also not like I haven’t seen him survive the impossible before. It isn’t an answer, not exactly, but it settles some of the loud confusion in my head regardless.

I touch my fingers just below his right eye. A familiar hunger thrums gently in me, but it doesn’t frighten me. For now, it’s enough knowing that it’s proof of our bond.

“Yeah…” I murmur, aware of how unconvincing I sound. Softly holding my chin he leans closer, so his eyes are all I can see.

“And I’m not going anywhere.” His words sound like an echo of our oaths to each other. The ring clear and strong, unwavering; the confidence he always embodies reverberates within me. I squeeze his hand tightly.

“Good.” I feel my resolve overlap with the Sorceress’s from that moment he nearly slipped through her fingers completely. “You’re not even allowed to think about leaving me.” Her words overlap with my own, and I watch a smile form on his lips. “You’ll always be tied to me. Forever.”

That’s right. We’ll tear down any fate that tries to keep us apart with our own hands, and then we’ll reforge it into whatever we desire - together.

He lifts our hands and places a soft kiss against my knuckles. Time and again I’ve seen emotions pass over him that I couldn’t understand, but now I see more clearly. The warmth of relief eases his shoulders and bolsters him. I think… maybe he didn’t even expect my remembering to soothe him as much as it does.

“That,” he says as his thumb sweeps over my lips, “is a fate I will gladly accept.”

#crow's writing.#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x mc #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus fic #lads mc #love and deepspace fic #lads fic #where drakeshadows fall #beyond cloudfall #sylus myth

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littlefireball · 6 months ago

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ᴍɢ|ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʀᴜᴇ (ᴍ)

@lezleeferguson-120 thx for requesting.

ᴋɪɴɢ ᴍɪɴɢɪ x ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ:3.4ᴋ

"Speak up. Who is it that you wish to save?" Mingi, the King of the Far East realm, confronted the warlord John, who had taken Mingi's brother captive. "Let my brother go, and I will return one princess to you."

Your sister frequently slipped away to the borders of the Far East realm for secret meetings with Mingi's brother. But fate took a turn when Mingi caught her in the act. You and the army rushed to intervene, igniting a fierce conflict. In the chaos, you and your sister found yourselves captured by Mingi, while his brother was taken hostage.

"Make your choice. Don't force me to ask again," Mingi pressed, his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.

You hold your breath, hoping John would choose you. Despite being a princess, you were often overlooked, overshadowed by your mother's unpopularity. Raised in a military camp, you had always been a soldier at heart. John, your childhood love, had vowed to marry you on your eighteenth birthday. Yet, the war had postponed your dreams time and again, and still, you were willing to wait for him.

However, this promise was about to be shattered.

"Please choose me, please. It hurts!" Your sister whined, tears streaming down. "Y/N, you won't let me suffer, will you?"

"So you want me to suffer?"You countered.

"But you are living in a military camp. I'm not as strong as you…" she said pitifully. You grasped the deeper meaning behind her words completely. What she's really saying was that rescuing you would be futile. Having been raised in a military camp, you've endured far more hardship than she had, and given your lack of favoritism, you being a hostage seems to be the most sensible option.

You averted your gaze, fixating on John, silently wishing he would ignore your sister's remarks. Yet, the general standing behind him shot you a harsh glare. John's expression was devoid of the affection you craved; instead, it brimmed with pity for your sister. Though their words were muffled, you could sense the generals were pressuring John to side with your sister, given his close ties to her.

You instinctively shook your head, as if to reject the entire situation. In response, all you received was an even more frigid stare from him.

"Please choose me!" Your sister was begging again. "I don't want to die!"

"Shut up!" The men looming behind you yelled, their voices laced with irritation, causing your sister to scream. John glanced at you, then turned his attention to her, his fist tightening in frustration. He longed to protect you, but the king's orders held him back. Your sister's words rang true; you could endure the trials of being a hostage. He would rescue you, but only after ensuring your sister's safety.

"I choose her." John's finger trembled as he pointed at your sister, his voice quaking. Your eyes grew wide with disbelief, a deep sense of betrayal washing over you. The cold blade of the sword pressed against your neck, drawing a thin line of crimson on your skin, yet you felt no sting. Instead, the ache in your heart rendered you motionless.

"Deal." Mingi nudged your sister ahead, while John mirrored the action with Mingi's brother. A torrent of words lodged in your throat, refusing to spill into coherent sentences. Instead, a whirlwind of questions and a deep sorrow filled your heart, the sting of betrayal from your lover weighing heavily on your chest. You stood there, powerless, as your so-called sister leaned against John, her voice trembling with fear as she recounted her terror.

You should be the one crying! Not her!

"Let's go back, princess." Mingi whispered against your ear, giving a shiver down your spine. He pulled you away, yet your gaze remained fixated on them . John apologized, promising to save you in ten days. But can you trust him? The sight of your sister's victorious grin made your stomach churn with unease.

—----

"Eat," Mingi commanded, gesturing for the servant to set the tray before you. "I don't want to bury your body."

You hesitated, but your hunger got the better of you. You slowly reached for a piece of fruit, biting into it gingerly. The sweet juice filled your mouth, and you found yourself relaxing slightly.

It's been three days since the incident, and your emotions were a tangled mess. You were filled with anger over the feeling of abandonment, yet there was a shift in how you perceive Mingi.

His unexpected kindness has made you question the harsh judgments you've heard about him. Rather than confining you to a cell, he's provided you with a room of your own. True, there were guards keeping a watchful eye, and freedom felt like a distant dream. Still, the conditions here were surprisingly more comfortable than what you experienced at so-called home.

"So, are you still waiting for your lovely warlord?" He sat by your bed, taking a sip from his drink.

Doubt flickered in your mind as you absorbed his words, your fist tightening instinctively. Deep down, you understood he would never return, all because of your father. To him, your existence was insignificant, even in death. Yet, a nagging curiosity tugged at you—why did Mingi let your sister slip away? It seemed like a foolish decision. If you were in Mingi's shoes, you would never have given John the option to decide.

"I don't know." You stopped eating, lowering your head. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Say it."

"Why did you choose me?"

He set the cup down on the plate before returning it to the table. Leaning in, he kept his gaze locked with yours. "Did you forget? It's your warlord's choice, not me." He leaned back, a playful smirk dancing across his lips.

"Take a rest." These were the final words he said to you. In the days that follow, he didn't show up. A sense of unease begins to creep in. Did your question reveal to him that you hold no worth? Rumor has it that Mingi's brother has been spiraling into madness ever since that day, howling for your sister's presence daily and even issuing chilling death threats. Mingi, unable to tolerate his brother's insanity, decided to cast him out.

But what about you? Would Mingi choose to banish you as well, or would he just kill you? Furthermore, just as you feared, your nation did nothing. It hasn't dispatched any forces or sought a truce. It truly regards you as if you no longer exist.

As the night deepened, you found yourself wide awake in bed, grappling with the relentless ache in your lower abdomen and a mind that refused to quiet. The ceiling loomed above you, a silent witness to your suffering. Oh, the agony of period cramps! Why must they invade your peaceful hours? You shifted restlessly, but the pain chased away any hint of drowsiness. Despite your efforts to cocoon yourself in warmth, it was futile. In the midst of your discomfort, you caught snippets of a hushed exchange between two maids nearby.

"Hey do you know that? The war lord would marry that princess!"

"Oh reli?Poor Y/N. I heard she likes the war lord."

"So, that means she is not useful anymore? See, they did nothing to save her."

"What would the King do? It's nonsense to send her back."

"Maybe put her in jail?"

"Maybe just kill─" Their words were abruptly cut off as you swung open the door, making them shocked.

"Bring me to the King."

"But…" They looked at each other before shifting their gaze on the safety guards , not sure what to do.

"Please." You begged. "I promise I won't say you brought me there."

—------

"Come in." Mingi commanded after hearing a knock from the door, still focusing on his work. But, no one spoke.

"What─Y/N?" He lifted his gaze and found you poised in the center of the hall, draped in elegant white silk pajamas. As you glided toward him slowly, your pure and unassuming beauty made him gulp. There was no denying it; you were stunning.

"Mingi…" You walked to him, slightly grabbing his forearm. "I'm in pain, could you help me?"

"What pain?"

"Menstrual cramps…" He gently pulled your hand away, his throat tightening as his fingers brushed against your skin. You noticed it. "Just call the doctor…"

"No." You grasped his hand, fingers weaving together. "There's still a pain in one spot." You guided his hand to rest on your chest, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and shyness. "Here." You whispered, biting your lips..

"Do you know what you are doing?" He suddenly sat up and shadowed you with his big frame. "Don't you─" "I know." You silent him with your words. "Just please." Upon hearing your begging, he could no longer bear his desire. He grabbed your thighs to pick you up, making you scream at surprise.

Gently placing you down on the luxury sofa, he pecked at your lips. "Wait for me a while. Be a good girl and take off all of your clothes before I come back." A grin played on his lips as he turned to leave. "Oh yah, don't remove your underwear."

You nodded and obeyed his words, lying naked on the sofa to wait for him. After a while, you saw him return with a towel. Cradling your thigh, he placed a soft towel under your body and removed your panties.

"Did you have sex before?"

"No." You muttered, shaking your head.

"Then I'm the first one." Smirked, he crawled back to the sofa, kneeling in front of you. He was definitely big, making you worried if you could take it, even in your period.

"Don't worry. You can take it well." He leaned over you after wrapping up a condom, cupping your face with one hand, while another leading his manhood to your cunt.

"Fuck…" you murmured while throwing your head at the back, opening and closing your mouth for better breathing. He filled you full literally, leaving no space left.

"This is fucking good." His head landed on your neck, inhaling your lovely scent and dropping kisses. Wrapped by sticky blood was not that difficult for him to adjust, he felt satisfied. Although you squeezed him hard, he didn't feel pain thanks to your blood.

"Mingi…mingi…it hurts." You let out a whimper, tears welled up in your eyes. "It's okay, it's okay. Take it slow." He wiped away your tears, pecking at your nose, showering you with all his tender and love. You frowned as the period pain kept torturing your body, toes curling and nail drugging into his skin.

"Relax." Grasping the armrest firmly, he pushed in painfully slowly. The way his tip kissed against your sweet spot made your head spin in pleasure. He kept reaching the same spot over and over again, fading away the pain in your body. Choppy moaning flew from your tongue as he continued to roll his hips into you, nothing left in your mind but only his name.

His cock was so big, so long, making you could easily feel his every movement and twitch. You carved for more, no, you needed him deeper and harder, giving you endless pleasure to forget all the pain your family caused.

"Please, I want more." "Want more what? Just say it." "Please please please. Harder and faster." "You beg for it. Don't regret it if I go too rough." Ｈe fold you up as a mating press, pressing your thighs as a support, shoving into you without any tender. Every muscle in your body seems to be on the brink of being ripped apart, as waves of pain and pleasure crash over you in a relentless rhythm. He fucked you so fast, fast enough to ruin you. The skin slapping sound mixed with your high-pitched moaning, filling the whole room.

"Ah!Fuck!" You swore, tears streaming down your cheek. Everything was just overwhelming. It felt as if your very awareness had been yanked from you, leaving the world around you a hazy blur. A parched sensation gripped your throat, the relentless moaning rendering your voice rough and strained. As he caught sight of you, a wave of tenderness washed over him; he slowed his pace, encircled your legs with his waist, leaned down, and tenderly brushed away the tears that streak your cheeks.

"Am I too rough?" He whispered against your skin, a warm breath landed on it. Wrapping your arms around his shoulder, you pulled him closer. "A little bit."

"Then I'll be rough when you're okay with this. Maybe next time." He cupped your face, giving you a gentle kiss while kept sliding in and out, making your whole body move forth and back from his movement. He parted from your lips with a pop sound, meeting your gaze.

"Will you stay with me, Y/N?"

"If you don't kill me."

"I won't kill you." He let out a chuckle before meeting your lips again. The sensation of that kiss was beyond words; was it love or merely desire? You were uncertain, yet one thing was crystal clear: you relished every moment. You savored the way he enveloped you in his warmth and tenderness. But then again, could it all be an illusion? Perhaps his passion was fueled solely by lust, ignited by your seduction. But none of that mattered, as long as you could stay alive.

"Damn it, I'm cumming." His thrusting lost its rhythm; a low growl left his lips. He chased his high and picked up the pace, making you moan with him. You could tell you were close too, a knot formed in your stomach, urging you to release it.

"Mingi…I…" "Cum with me, dear." Throwing your head at the back, you panted heavily as the pleasure of climax took over your mind. With a swear, you reached your high before Mingi came all in his condom.

Neither of you wanted to break free from the warmth of each other's arms, holding on even tighter. He placed soft kisses on your forehead and lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "How about we take a shower?" he suggested. You smiled and nodded, allowing him to lift you up and carry you to the bathroom.

"I didn't expect you to get laid with me in just one week." Mingi splashed the water over you after checking its warmth. You never imagined you could act with such daring. Yet, when confronted with the essence of life, the value of purity has become less significant.

You spun around, wrapping your arms around him, your voice a soft murmur against his chest. "Are you really asking me to stay by your side?" Deep down, you recognized the insincerity of your own words. You had no intention of sticking around; one day, you would walk away.

But is that true?

He gently nudged you back, wanting to meet your gaze, lowering himself to match your height.

"I won't lie."

—-----

Days turned week, week turned months. It appeared that the commitment John made to you has slipped entirely from his mind. If only you had held on a little longer for him to save you, you may have just died already. He repeatedly insisted he would come to your aid, yet his words were empty; he took no real steps beyond sending letters. He never confronted the king or sought a solution. Instead, he merely crafted an illusion of affection.

"What is that?" Mingi buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaving a trail of kisses while licking the red marks he left on you. With John, he was a different person; he honored his word and cherished you like a precious gem, enveloping you in a warm embrace of love and kindness. However, there was one aspect that wasn't ideal:he was too horny sometimes.

"A letter from John." You placed your hand on Mingi's head, letting a moan as Mingi sneaked his hand to your clothed clit, rubbing it gently. "Stop, Mingi. I can't focus."

"Tsk. I'm more important than him. Your husband needs you to help him." "We haven't got married." "Soon." He slid down your panties to the thighs, pulling up your dress to press his cock against your ass, rubbing it before aiming at your entrance.

"Shit…"You couldn't help but let out a moan as he eased into you. "What did he say?" His pronunciation was somewhat inaccurate due to his heavy panting. "Oh baby, you're so fucking tight." His cock twitched each time your wall tightened, sucking him in to reach your deepest.

"Ah fuck Mingi~He said…umm…he would come to save me…he…" You couldn't even say a complete sentence as he nestled so deep, the way he battered your spot drove you insane.

"Again?How many times has he said it?"He thrusted with each word, making you gasp.

"Yah. That's bullshit. Mingi, you're too deep."

"Just reply to him after you milk me dry." Mingi threw away the letter and brought you into a deep kiss. "No. Don't reply to him. I don't like you talking with him." Before you could say anything, he picked you up to the bed, shoving you as nothing, entering your cunt once again.

"Fuckkk."

—-----

This evening, John at last got your letter and hurried to the spot where it all unfolded.

"Y/N!" He dashed toward you as soon as he spotted you. "I feared I'd lost you forever."

"Hold it!" You took a step back, lifting your hand in warning. "Don't you dare cross that line, or I swear I'll end you."

"What are you saying? I came here to rescue you."

"Funny." You smirked. "Are you happy to marry my sister?"

"It is a forced marriage and I don't like her! I only like you!"

"Like me?" You raised your eyebrow, speaking up. "So that you choose my sister on that day and let me be a captive? You said you would save me and what I was waiting for was the news of your marriage to her! That's how you like me?"

"No,no.Y/N. I was forced, I…"

"Did you even try to save me?Tell me." You stopped his words, making him hesitant.

"Why can't you understand me? I truly love you." Rolling your eyes, a hint of annoyance evident.

"Shut up. John!What you loved was only your reputation and status, not me."

"Absolutely not, Y/N! Just trust me!" As he lunged toward you, Mingi's voice rang out, halting him.

"How dare you lay a hand on my wife?"

"Wife?" "Mingi?" The two of you exchanged astonished glances, one filled with fear and the other with joy. Mingi pulled you behind him, warning John with a low voice.

"If you touch my wife, I'll definitely kill you now."

"What? You married him?"

"It's not your business, asshole. And now I'm talking with you. How dare you ignore me?"

"That should be what I say! You rape her?! Y/N. Don't be afraid!I'm here for you." You rolled your eyes again, unable to hold your anger anymore and rushed to slap him, making him stand still.

"I'm willing!I'm already died if I had waited for you to save me."

"So you get laid with him?How can you live up to your country?"

"Don't talk nonsense to me!It is not my country! Go back to your country and tell them, war is going to break out." Gave him a death look, you turned around to hold Mingi's hand.

"Let's go." You dragged Mingi to leave, not giving a glance back. John surveyed the scene before him, a heavy weight settling in his chest as he grappled with his emotions. Was it a sense of regret gnawing at him, or was it the fire of anger? Perhaps it was simply the anxiety of what lay ahead.

"Y/N." Mingi said. "Hm?"

"I promise I won't let you down, I'll do everything you want."

"Why so suddenly?"

"I'm serious."

"Okay. Thank you. I love you." You left a kiss on his cheek. "My confession is serious, too." Smiled, he brought you into a passionate kiss.

Time flies, a conflict is imminent against your homeland. The corruption that had festered under your father's reign had taken root long ago, and soon, the tides of war would turn in your favor.

And that was Mingi's promise─he would do anything for you.

tag list:@angelsaway

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x female reader #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #mingi x reader #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Text

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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caramelc0rgi · 4 days ago

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This Charles with this Erik in a Western AU kind of inspired by Red Dead Redemption because that game has a death grip on me.

Erik is a famous gunslinger and bounty hunter. Some people say he’s so fast he can snatch a bullet from the air. He’s a man who takes no prisoners and offers no mercy. He’s a wanted man by the entire county, either dead or alive. Rumors say he’s after Sebastian Shaw, an outlaw even crueler than the stories make him out to be. Shaw has burned towns, butchered families and leaves behind nothing but ashes and sorrows.

Meanwhile Charles is a freshly graduated doctor who has made a life for himself in a quiet town, far away from his family. He’s the only doctor for miles, which is why people all over the area come and visit him for any type of medical advice. But when Erik Lehnsherr stumbles into his clinic with a bullet lodged into his shoulder, Charles knows trouble is coming.

I have been playing too much red dead redemption.

#cherik #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #erik lehnsherr #x men #charles xavier #x men first class #x men days of future past #x men apocalypse #x men dark phoenix #am I cooking #idk I just love mean cowboy michael fassbender #atonement movie #slow west movie

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sylusonychinus · 18 days ago

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Day 6 - you said you'll grow old with me

Request by anon -

can we get a pure angst fic like literal no comfort just hurt and tears and everything because I barely see any angst fics from this game. So like it's basically Innocent birdcage where instead of Sylus getting killed by MC he killed her first

a/n: well i mean it was requested :3 I have a surprise for yall on valentines keep an eye out for it (つ╥﹏╥)つ (i semi sobbed maybe)

The moon hung low, a cold witness to the tragedy unfolding within the dimly lit halls of the abandoned estate. Flickering candlelight cast distorted shadows along the cracked walls, where dust and time had long settled like ghosts of the past. And in the heart of this decayed ruin, a cruel stage was set.

She never saw it coming.

One moment, she stood before him, hands trembling yet reaching out, the warmth of her touch almost brushing his sleeve. There was sorrow in her eyes—pleading, desperate. The next, a cold shock spread through her chest, the weight of betrayal sinking into her like jagged glass.

She gasped, choking on something thick, something warm. Her knees buckled, and the world tilted violently as she staggered, hands flying to the sharp intrusion buried deep in her torso. Scarlet bloomed across her dress like a macabre flower, staining the pale fabric with a truth she refused to acknowledge.

"Sylus…?" Her voice cracked, disbelief drowning the edges of her words.

His expression was unreadable, a glacial mask that revealed nothing, not even satisfaction. The dagger in his grip gleamed under the dim candlelight, slick with her lifeblood, yet his hand did not waver.

"You hesitated." His voice was a mere whisper, as if the weight of his actions had already begun sinking into his bones. "And I couldn't afford that."

She wanted to laugh, to scream, to curse the heavens for their cruel fate. But her body was betraying her faster than he ever did. The air burned in her lungs as she shuddered, her fingers clutching weakly at the dagger still lodged inside her, as if pulling it free would somehow undo the irreversible.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, unbidden, unwanted.

"I—" she tried, her breath hitching as her vision swam. There was so much she wanted to say, to demand—Why? Did none of it mean anything? The stolen glances, the fleeting moments where she thought she had seen something real in his eyes? The unspoken promises that now shattered like fragile glass at their feet?

But words failed her, and all that remained was the silence between them.

She fell.

Sylus watched as she crumpled, her body hitting the cold stone floor with a sickening finality. The crimson pool expanded beneath her, tainting the remnants of what little innocence had remained between them. His fingers twitched, an unspoken thought lurking just beyond reach, but he shoved it down, deeper, burying it beneath layers of duty, necessity, and cold, calculated resolve.

And yet, as her broken form lay motionless, her breath slowing, fading—

He could not look away.

A tremor ran through him. The hand that had so easily driven steel into her flesh now felt foreign, as if it no longer belonged to him. A sharp, suffocating weight pressed against his ribs, an unfamiliar ache he could not name.

He had done what needed to be done.

So why did it feel like he had lost everything?

Her fingers twitched, barely perceptible, as if even in her last moments, she refused to let go. It was cruel. She was cruel.

And when the light finally left her eyes, the shattered remains of his soul went with her.

The dagger slipped from his grasp, clattering against the floor, forgotten.

But the silence that followed would never leave him.

a/n: comment down below if you cried (つ╥﹏╥)つ

#love and deepspace sylus #sylus qin #lads sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #sylus x you #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus lads #sylus love and deepspace #sylus angst

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tojisun · 7 months ago

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you're breaking my heart with him who we love and i absolutely adore it!!!! (っ◔︣◡◔᷅)っ ❤

may i ask what johnny (and maybe even simon?) would do if reader - after feeling left out for so long - finally decided to move on and/or find someone else? maybe she gravitated towards kyle and/or john bc they’re sweet and gentle with her and her affection is finally being reciprocated?

and please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you. no pressure at all!

ohn my god no bc im so so glad so many of u are brainrotting w me again about 'him who we love' <33 i could not stop thinking about it on our way home yesterday

!! vague descriptions of an injury and an attack; mentioned callsign for reader but its not important!!; and its so so rambly so do forgive me ): // divider by @/plutism <3

id love to see this happen after that mission mishap with simon and the reader. it takes an explosion; an acrid burn peeling his flesh from his back and you sewing him together with such vitriolic desperation that ghost almost, almost, felt bad for the way he’s treated you; and an apology murmured from the softest lips he’s never really noticed for simon to—

feel his chest twinge.

the denial sits on the tip of his tongue, razor-sharp and blisteringly sour. it waxes, and simon heaves from something more than the pain burrowing deep into his being. he trembles from something that isn’t the agony he feels for returning to johnny as more of a ruined man who is unable to bury the fear of anything that is set ablazed.

(he remembered the day when he finally came to, groggy eyes peeling open before snagging a fracture of liquid orange—fire, his mind screamed, pulsing because: i’m not gonna be able to come back—and lurching out of the bed only for his body to collapse, and he fell with a choked yell, pain blooming from all of his synapses almost like a beast coiled deep into the fabrics of his very existence.

you ran into the room, yelling his name, and something about the way your voice was so raw with worry and anguish, simon was able to calm down. almost like a part of him realized he was safe now, with you; like it knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not then and not ever.

while you helped him back on the bed, he turned his head to try and see what it was that set him off—

simon’s breath hitched, his eyes straining as a lump lodged itself into his throat because it was—

the fire was—

it wasn’t fire.

there, bouncing off a glass vase, were serpentine rays of the afternoon sun rippling across the walls and bathing him in warm light.

“is there, uh, something you need?” you asked, trying not to hover but unable to truly leave him be.

simon swallowed, running his tongue on the back of his teeth, before murmuring, “shut the curtains.”

you turned to the windows, your brows furrowed, and simon clenched his teeth, bulldozing through the shame curling in the pit of his stomach and added, “please.”

you did what he asked without prodding, and simon swallowed down the rawness of his vulnerability, watching you with something pretty fluttering in his chest but he tried to stomp it down because—

he despises you, remember? so why…)

but the feeling bloats and simon spends the rest of the exfil in silence, watching you—he’s always been watching—but this time it’s without malice. instead, it’s with bubbling interest, pushing at the back of his mind, and rising ever so slightly like a tide.

he thinks of johnny, of the way mactavish had danced around the idea of something more with the three of you, and finds that he’s not too opposed to it anymore. instead, he looks forward to the change.

no sooner after the bird touches down on the base, price pulls you into his office. simon’s been wheeled into the sick bay and was stranded there, doctor’s orders, so he only learns about what happened later into the night when mactavish finds him, sorrow so heavily etched on his face.

“tavish?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice comes out as a croak. “what happened?”

“hyde’s gone,” johnny says, slumping into the seat beside simon’s bed and burrowing his head into his palms. “they apparently requested to be assigned somewhere else. cap’n won’t say where.”

“when?” he asks although simon can’t even feel himself move, his mind trying to reconcile the events that happened because there’s no way this occurred in the fly; not when, he remembers, you looked so resolute on the way back like you knew what was going to happen the moment you two returned.

like you had planned this for a while now—

“when’d they ask?”

johnny shifts, meeting his eyes, and simon’s heart crumbles at seeing the weight of johnny’s anguish painted on his face. he sniffles, and rasps out, “probably two months ago, s’what garrick said.”

two months ago—the same night when you managed to find a way to contact the base. the same night when simon’s realized what it must be that he feels for you.

(the same night when you’ve shyly asked him what about mactavish did he like.

“the six inches that you so intimately know,” he replied, cheeky and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, groaning at how disgusting he was, and he piped back how he’s a patient and has all rights to be as gross as he could.

you laughed, chucking a balled paper towel at him and simon remembers the way you looked so…at peace bantering with him that he couldn’t even fathom you were thinking of leaving.

what changed for you? what was it? why couldn’t you have waited—

why didn’t he realize sooner—

whywhywhy?)

notes: tbh i dont think hyde would gravitate towards price n gaz bc their affections for ghoap, particularly for ghost, was so intense. also, even before this ask ive always planned for hyde to leave. their feelings could potentially risk the team morale, which price even talked to them about in the prev works (mentioned in passing)!

#anon #ask #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mctavish x reader #suns #he who we love

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venusswhite · 3 months ago

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A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 1)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns?

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

Part. 2

“I will love you ’til the end of time” - Lana Del Rey

You were living with your parents when the war began. Your family lived in a small house on the outskirts of the city. Your mother sold trinkets, and your father repaired them. It was a simple, hard life, but it was a happy one.

Until that day…

It was nighttime when screams and gunshots were heard. The Enforcers were committing genocide in Zaun. You woke up startled, feeling your father lifting you from your makeshift bed on the floor, followed by your mother covering you with a cloth that went over your head.

Everything happened so fast. One moment, you were in your father’s arms amidst the chaos. The next, you heard gunshots too close for comfort and your father shouting:

“Darling!” — a term of endearment he used for your mother.

Curious and worried, you lifted the cloth covering your head, a decision you would regret for the rest of your life. You saw your mother, bleeding, beside your father, who was crying uncontrollably as he tried to stop the bleeding. She was struggling to breathe, each breath coming with more difficulty.

“Come on, Darling! Get up! We can’t give up now!” your father yelled, holding you in one arm while trying to lift your mother with the other.

“Dad?” you called out, crying and scared, noticing more Enforcers approaching.

Your father turned and, upon seeing them, threw himself to the ground to shield you. More gunshots rang out, and you felt a hot liquid hit your skin, followed by a burning pain in one of your arms. Then, everything went dark…

“Eyes on me!” I woke up dazed, seeing a tall, bearded man in front of me holding a blue-haired girl who didn’t seem much older than me.

“It hurts…” I complained, feeling something warm pressing against my arm. When I looked, I saw a pink-haired girl with a sorrowful expression wrapping a piece of cloth around my bleeding arm.

“Can you stand?” the man holding the child asked.

“I think… I can.” I stood up with help from the pink-haired girl.

“We need to move. There’s no time.”

“What’s going on? Where are my parents?”

The man sighed, his gaze saying more than his words:

“I’m sorry, child. I’ll take care of you, alright? Just trust me.”

He then held the older girl’s hand, and she extended her free hand toward me. Reluctantly, I took the pink-haired girl’s hand.

We walked for hours. Along the way, we encountered two boys: one taller and stocky, the other thin. Their expressions mirrored everyone else’s: sad, uncertain, and fearful.

The blue-haired girl was now awake, tear trails marking her dust-covered face. The pink-haired girl tried to stay strong, but fear was evident in her eyes. The two boys looked around in utter desperation.

After hours of walking, we arrived at a warehouse hidden behind a bar.

“Come here,” the man called, making me sit beside him. He removed the makeshift bandage from my wound, which was caked with dried blood and had an irregular hole.

“This will hurt a bit…” he warned, picking up a pair of tweezers.

The bullet was lodged in the wound. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to muffle my screams in my old coat. The other children watched in shock and sympathy.

“All done. Now keep the wound covered, alright?” he asked with a slight smile, and I nodded.

“I’m so sorry this happened to all of you. My name is Vander…”

One by one, everyone introduced themselves:

“[Name]”

“Claggor”

“Mylo”

“Violet… and this is my sister, Powder,” the pink-haired girl added, looking at her sister, who was clinging to her with trembling fear.

“Alright. I’ll get you water and food. Take care of each other. I’ll be back soon,” he said, leaving.

Silence filled the room. Vi and Powder sat on one of the beds, while Mylo and Claggor sat on another.

“Can I sit here?” I asked, approaching the two sisters.

“Sure,” Vi replied.

“How’s your arm?”

“It hurts a little, but it’ll pass. Do you think that man is really trustworthy?”

“I don’t know, but he’s our only hope.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The rest of the time was spent in silence. Shock and fear still held everyone captive.

After some time, Vander returned with food and water for everyone.

“I also brought clean clothes and blankets.”

After eating, I went behind a curtain Vander had set up for us to change. I removed my bloodstained clothes and cleaned myself with a damp cloth, returning to an improvised bed beside a bunk where the sisters were already lying.

Despite my sadness and fear, sleep soon overcame me.

Years passed. The new life was hard, but gradually, everyone adjusted. At first, nightmares plagued us all, and it was normal to wake up in the middle of the night to someone screaming and crying. But Vander was always there to protect us.

He taught us everything we knew about Zaun, Piltover, and the monsters who had killed innocents.

Over time, the five of us grew very close and became inseparable. Though disagreements occasionally arose, we always protected each other — whether from others when trouble found us or from Vander when we got into mischief and knew he’d scold us.

In recent months, I began to experience something I had never felt before. I didn’t know what to call it, but I always felt it when Vi was near me. It was a warm sensation in my chest, as if nothing else mattered except her.

Confused, I decided to talk to the person I trusted most and who always helped me: Vander.

“Can I talk to you?” I asked, sitting on a chair in Vander’s bar.

“Of course, [Name],” he said, sitting beside me.

“Have you ever… liked someone?” I asked, unable to meet his eyes.

“Liked in what sense?” he asked suspiciously.

“Romantically, you know?” I glanced at him, seeing a small smile forming on his lips.

“Ah, of course I have. I lost her the night I found you all.”

“I’m sorry, Vander. I shouldn’t have asked. I really am.”

“It’s alright! Why are you asking about this?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I wanted to know what you feel when you like someone,” I finally admitted, nervously wringing my hands.

“Well… you feel like you always want to be with the person, to keep them safe and well. You might feel shy around them, want to spend the rest of your life with them. You feel many different things, [Name]. It’s not the same as liking a friend or family member. It’s a stronger, more intense feeling.”

“I see,” I replied thoughtfully. “And can a woman feel that way about another woman?”

“Ah, yes, of course. There are no rules for love, [Name]. Love is love, no matter what. But why are you suddenly asking all this?”

“It’s nothing! Just curiosity,” I quickly replied, avoiding the subject.

Before Vander could respond, Powder came running in:

“Vander, Vi won’t give me her candy!” the blue-haired girl said, hiding behind the man.

“That’s mine. You already ate yours,” I heard a familiar voice behind me, and instantly my heart raced and a strange feeling arose in my stomach.

“Powder, give it back to your sister. I saw you eating yours,” Vander said.

“That’s not fair,” the younger girl muttered, sulking as she handed the candy back to her sister.

Vi then sat beside me at the table, eating her candy.

“What were you two talking about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I quickly replied, throwing a pleading look at the older man not to say anything, making him laugh.

“Me and Mylo are having a dart-throwing competition. Want to join?” she asked, looking at me.

“Sure! Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

She nodded and walked off, disappearing through the door behind the counter.

“It’s about Vi, isn’t it?” Vander asked quietly after she left.

“What? Was it that obvious?” I asked, worried.

“No, relax! I just know my kids,” he chuckled.

“This feeling is so strange, but it’s good at the same time. It’s so confusing, Vander.”

“You’re still young, [Name]. You don’t have to figure out what you feel right now. There’s plenty of time for you two to explore these feelings. Take it slow, explore them…”

“I will. Thanks for listening, Dad.”

“Anytime, [Name],” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Now you’d better go before Vi comes back and drags you there.”

As soon as Vander finished speaking, Vi appeared, calling for me. I got up, hugged him, and walked toward her.

“What were you two talking about?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing important,” I replied, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, afraid she might find out.

She looked at me suspiciously but didn’t insist.

We arrived in the room where Mylo, Claggor, and Powder were, and soon the competition began. The dispute became intense between Vi and Mylo, both throwing the darts with force, their eyes locked on the target, determined to beat each other.

In the end, Vi won by just two points. Powder and I shouted, running to the pink-haired girl in celebration. She high-fived Powder, still cheering enthusiastically, and then picked me up, spinning and jumping around.

As she spun me, I couldn’t take my eyes off her face—her almost gray-blue eyes, her pink hair slicked back, the small freckles on her face… Everything about her fascinated me. Everything about her caught my attention and awakened an irresistible desire to never stop admiring her.

Maybe… maybe I was starting to like her.

Hey, everyone! I hate using “y/n,” so I’m going with [Name] instead. When Vander talked about the woman he loved, I imagined it being Vi and Powder’s mom 😭, but feel free to picture someone else if you’d like. Anyway, that’s it. Let me know if you spot any typos! Kisses!

#vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #vi league of legends #violet arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #vi smut #vi arcane x reader #arcane league of legends #arcane #vi x you #arcane X you

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vivmaek · 1 year ago

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POETRY FOR YOUR MOON SIGN

✰ my masterlist poems written by someone who has the same moon sign as you <3

☾PISCES☽

Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream

“Take this kiss upon the brow! / And, in parting from you now, / Thus much let me avow – / You are not wrong, who deem / That my days have been a dream; / Yet if hope has flown away / In a night, or in a day, / In a vision, or in none, / Is it therefore the less gone? / All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream.”

June Jordan, You Came with Shells

“You came with shells. And left them: / shells. / They lay beautiful on the table. / Now they lie on my desk / peculiar / extraordinary under 60 watts.”

Toni Morrison, It Comes Unadorned

“it comes / Unadorned / Like a phrase / Strong enough to cast a spell; / It comes / Unbidden, / Like the turn of sun through hills / Or stars in wheels of song. / The jeweled feet of women dance the earth. / Arousing it to spring. / Shoulders broad as a road bend to share the weight of years. / Profiles breach the distance and lean / Toward an ordinary kiss. / Bliss. / it comes naked into the world like a charm.”

☾AQUARIUS☽

W.B Yeats, A Coat

“I made my song a coat / Covered with embroideries / Out of old mythologies / From heel to throat; / But the fools caught it, / Wore it in the world’s eyes / As though they’d wrought it. / Song, let them take it / For there’s more enterprise / In walking naked.”

W.B Yeats, The Lover Tells of the Roses in His Heart

“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, / The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, / The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, / Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. / The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart, / With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold / For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.”

Louisa May Alcott, The Lay of a Golden Goose

“Oh! Be not rash,” her father said, / A mild Socratic bird; / Her mother begged her not to stray / With many a warning word. / But little goosey was perverse / And eagerly did cry, / “I’ve got a lovely pair of wings, / Of course I Ought to fly.”

☾CAPRICORN☽

John Milton, Sonnet 19

“When I consider how my light is spent, / Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, / And that one talent which is death to hide / Lodged with me useless, through my soul more bent / To serve therewith my Maker,”

Jala al-Din Rumi, The Guest House

“This being human is a guest house. / Every morning a new arrival. / A joy, a depression, a meanness, / some momentary awareness comes / As an unexpected visitor. / Welcome and entertain them all! / Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, / who violently sweep your house / empty of its furniture, / still treat each guest honorably. / He may be clearing you out / for some new delight. / The dark thought, the shame, the malice, / meet them at the door laughing, / and invite them in. / Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent / as a guide from beyond.”

Gwendolyn Brooks, a song in the front yard

“I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life. / I want a peek at the back / Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed / grows. / A girl gets sick of a rose.”

☾SAGITTARIUS☽

Lewis Carroll, A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky

“In a Wonderland they lie, / Dreaming as the days go by, / Dreaming as the summers die: / Ever drifting down the stream – / Lingering in the golden gleam – / Life, what it is but a dream?”

Dante Alighieri, From “Inferno”

“It’s the pain / of the people down there that empties my / face. / It’s pity / that you’ve mistaken for fear. / And it’s the long way / that pushes us now. / Let’s go.”

Victor Hugo, Tomorrow, At Dawn

“Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens, / I will set out. You see, I know that you wait for me. / I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain. / I can no longer remain far from you. / I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, / Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no noise / Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed, / Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as night.”

☾SCORPIO☽

Sarojini Naid, Autumn Song

“Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, / The sunset hangs on a cloud; / A golden storm of glittering sheaves, / Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, / The wild wind blows in a cloud. / Hark to a voice that is calling / To my heart in the voice of the wind: / My heart is weary and sad and alone, / For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, / And why should I stay behind?”

Shel Silverstein, Dreadful

“Someone ate the baby. / It’s absolutely clear / Someone ate the baby / ‘Cause the baby isn’t here. / We’ll give away her toys and clothes. / We’ll never have to wipe her nose. / Dad says, “That’s the way it goes.” / Someone ate the baby.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Aftermath

“When the summer fields are mown, / When the birds are fledged and flown, / And the dry leaves strew the path; / With the falling of the snow, / With the cawing of the crow, / Once again the fields we mow / And gather in the aftermath.”

☾LIBRA☽

Maya Angelou, Caged Bird

“A free bird leaps / on the back of the wind / and floats downstream / till the current ends / and dips his wing / in the orange sun rays / and dares to claim the sky.”

Emily Dickinson, Good Morning – Midnight

“Good Morning – Midnight – / I’m coming Home – / Day – got tired of Me – / How could I – of Him? / Sunshine was a sweet place – / I liked to stay – / But Morn – didn’t want me – now – / So – Goodnight – Day!”

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, My Heart and I

“You see we’re tired, my heart and I. / We dealt with books, we trusted men, / And in our own blood drenched the pen, / As is such colours could not fly. / We walked too straight for fortune’s end, / We loved too true to keep a friend ; / At last we’re tired, my heart and I.”

☾VIRGO☽

Robert Hayden, Those Winter Sundays

“Sundays too my father got up early / and put his clothes on in the blueback cold, / then with cracked hands that ached / from labor in the weekday weather made / banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. / I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking / When the rooms were warm, he’d call, / and slowly I would rise and dress, / fearing the chronic angers of that house, / Speaking indifferently to him , / who had driven out the cold / and polished my good shoes well. / What did I know, what did I know / of love's austere and lonely offices?”

Jack Kerouac, How to Meditate

“Thinking’s just like not thinking- / So I don't have to think / any / more”

William Faulkner, Study

“Muted dreams for them / for me / Bitter science. Exams are near / And my thoughts uncontrollably / Wander, and I cannot hear / The voice telling me that work I must, / For everything will be the same when I’m dead / A thousand years. I wish I were a bust / All head.”

☾LEO☽

Walt Whitman, I sing the Body Electric

“I sing the body electric, / The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,”

Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, / By each let this be heard, / Some do it with a bitter look, / Some with a flattering word, / The coward does it with a kiss, / The brave men with a sword!”

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Friendship

“A ruddy drop of manly blood / The surging sea outweighs, / The world uncertain comes and goes; / The lover rooted stays. / I fancied he was fled, – / And, after many a year, / Glowed unexhausted kindliness, / Like daily sunrise there. / My careful heart was free again, / O friend, my bosom said, / Through thee alone the sky is arched, / Through thee the rose is red; / All things through thee take nobler form, / And look beyond the earth, / The mill-round of our fate appears / A sun-path in thy worth. / Me too thy nobleness had taught / To master my despair; / The fountains of my hidden life / Are through thy friendship fair.”

☾CANCER☽

Shakespear, Sonnet 147

“My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease, / Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,”

Robert Frost, Acquainted with the Night

“I have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light. / I have looked down the saddest city lane. / I have passed by the watchman on his beat / And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. / I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / When far away an interrupted cry / Came over houses from another street, / But not to call me back or say good-bye; / And further still at an unearthly height, / One luminary clock against the sky / Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. / I have been one acquainted with the night.”

William Blake, Auguries of innocence

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a wild flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand / And eternity in an hour”

☾GEMINI☽

Rudyard Kipling, Blue Roses

“Half the world I wandered through, / Seeking where such flowers grew. / Half the world unto my quest / Answered me with laugh and jest. / Home I came at wintertide, / But my silly love had died / Seeking with her latest breath / Roses from the arms of Death.”

John Keats, To Sleep

“Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords / Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; / Turn the key deftly into the oiled wards, / And seal the hushed Casket of my soul.”

Lord Tennyson, The Eagle

“He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, / Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. / The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; / He watches from his mountain walls, / And like thunderbolt he falls.”

☾TAURUS☽

John Donne, Air and Angels

“Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, / Before I knew thy face or name; / So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame / Angels affects us oft, and worshipp’d be;”

Audre Lorde, Recreation

“my body / writes into your flesh / the poem / you make of me. / Touching you I catch midnight / as moon fires set in my throat / I love you flesh into blossom / I made you / and take you made / into me.”

Margaret Walker, Lineage

“My grandmothers were strong. / They followed plows and bent to toil. / They moved through fields sowing seed. / They touched earth and grain grew. / They were full of sturdiness and singing. / My grandmothers were strong. / My grandmothers are full of memories / Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay / With veins rolling roughly over quick hands / They have many clean words to say. / My grandmothers were strong. / Why am I not as they?”

☾ARIES☽

E.E Cummings, Love is more thicker than forget

“love is more thicker than forget / more thinner than recall / more seldom than a wave is wet / more frequent than to fail”

Mark Twain, Genius

“But above all things, / to deftly throw the incoherent ravings of insanity into verse / and then rush off and get booming drunk, / is the surest of all the different signs / of genius.”

Paul Laurence Dunbar, Ships that Pass in the Night

“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; / I look far out into the pregnant night, / Where I can hear a solemn booming gun / And I catch the gleaming of a random light, / That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.”

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