#what happened was so wrong and I wish I could get into detail but can’t | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bau-muffin · 9 months ago

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“It’s All Wrong But It’s Alright”

Summary: You and Aaron Hotchner have an interesting relationship. He’s your boss, and you’re one of the agents underneath him.

What happens when you get triggered during a case, and comforting you leads to something more?

Word count: 6,006

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Reader

Read it on AO3

mentions: SA, CSA, it’s implied that reader has a history of CSA, oral sex, fingering

Hotch knew as well as anybody that this case would emotionally weigh heavy on the team, maybe even more than it usually did.

They had successfully apprehended Monica Menzel and her sixteen year old son Jacob, but certainly not before uncovering disturbing details that would more than likely haunt the team for the rest of their lives.

The victims, all of them, were below the age of nine. There were no preferences in boys or girls or hair color, not even eye color, but they were all tortured and sexually assaulted in the same exact way, and then their bodies disposed of and covered with a tarp, as though in remorse. As it turned out, Jacob was losing control and abusing these children while Monica disposed of them quietly.

It made Hotch doubt whether good in humanity ever existed, especially when he thought of Jack waiting at home for him to come back so he could tell him all of the shenanigans he had gotten up to at his Aunt Jessica’s and regale him with the details of classroom drama.

And, he figured, the rest of the team were thinking similar thoughts, their minds all engulfed with the children in their lives and how it only takes a split second for every sense of safety to become compromised.

But as the team left the precinct, neatly separated into SUVs, and caravanned back to the hotel, Hotch looked over at you in the passenger seat and wondered who you were thinking of. When he had opened the door for you, you’d sat down and not even murmured a “thank you,” like you usually did, instead looking as though you were a million miles away. He knew something was turning inside your head. It didn’t take a profiler to see it.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he flipped up the blinker to make a turn.

“I’m exhausted,” you replied, almost too quickly. “We’ve been up and at it with this case since five this morning, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. Probably didn’t get more than three hours

in total.”

When Garcia had booked hotel rooms for you guys, she disclosed that since the town was at the peak of tourist season, she couldn’t book enough rooms for everybody to have a room of their own; which meant that two agents would have to take one for the team and share. You and Hotch had drawn the short straws, but despite being a subordinate and superior sharing a room, it hadn’t been awkward at all. You each had a double bed and made yourselves at home.

Still, he was all too aware that you had tossed and turned into the wee hours of the morning, and more than ever he wished he could have assuaged whatever was bothering you.

“Was the bed uncomfortable for you?” Hotch asked casually, his eyes still on the road.

“Not at all. I was just… thinking, is all. You know how it can be.”

He nodded solemnly, his lips forming a solid line. “I do know.”

You hummed an affirmative noise before turning to look outside the window, though there wasn’t much to look at since it was already almost dark and most of the street lights were still off.

Hotch wished you would open up to him. Heck, even before, you didn’t mind opening up to him, even just a little. But now it was like a barrier loomed around you and your thoughts, forbidding anyone who dared approach.

“For most of this case, I found myself thinking of Jack,” he confided, glancing over at you.

“Yeah? I don’t doubt it. Having kids when you’re in this line of business… it can’t be easy.” For a moment, your tone sounded open and concerned, and he sensed your eyes on his side profile.

“It’s not at all,” Hotch said quietly with his eyes still on the road ahead of him. “It makes me wish I could take Jack somewhere and hide him away from the ugly side of humanity. But… I’m all too aware that’s not feasible, nor is it healthy. So, we persevere together, and all I can hope to do is guide him until he’s ready to step out into the world on his own.”

“I imagine he’s already seen too much of how ugly humanity can be,” you said gently.

“He has. There’s no hiding it from him now,” he admitted softly.

“Once you’ve seen it, heard it… you can’t go back from it. Even that young.”

Something in your voice made him glance your way intensely. Was it… wistfulness? Melancholy?

It was quiet for a few moments as he focused on driving while you turned back to the window and continued staring out. He figured he couldn’t force you to confide in him, so he may as well give you space, but he was still worried; probably more than he’d like to confess.

As soon as you entered the hotel room, you beelined straight for your suitcase. “I’m going to take a shower first, if that’s alright with you?”

Hotch nodded as he began plugging up his devices on his side of the shared side table. “Perfectly fine with me. It’ll give me time to call Jack before we settle down for the night. Take your time.”

You began gathering up your clothes and necessities and toted them to the bathroom, the door closing behind you softly. Hotch had never wanted to wiggle his way into your brain more and find out what was going on in there.

He’s always known you had a soft spot for children, and he was first hand testament to it, just witnessing how you’d interacted with Jack every time Jessica brought him by the BAU for a visit or when he would bring Jack for an event at Rossi’s—you’d always taken time to ask him how school was, you’d ask about some project or another he had told you about before, and often times you’d reach out to ruffle his hair fondly. When he had read up on your files during the hiring process, he also learned you had nieces and nephews, and from how you spoke of them, you seemed to love them and had a good relationship with them; probably a tad bit protective, especially considering what you’d seen on this job.

But something about the way you were withdrawing and reserved now suggested this was personal, much more personal than you wanted to let on.

Still, Hotch felt like it was none of his business, and picked up his phone to call Jack.

By the time he finished an exuberant conversation with his son and Jessica, Hotch heard your blow dryer running. (you always kept an extra blow dryer in your go bag. Derek once suggested you take it out to have more room for clothes, and Hotch thought you’d form daggers with your eyeballs and throw them at him. (Derek never brought it up again.)

Fifteen minutes later, you walked in with your dirty clothes and stuffed them into a mesh bag in your go bag; and Hotch felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

He hardly ever saw you dressed this casually. Your hair was down, fluffy at the crown from blow drying it, and wearing a large oversized t-shirt and shorts, as well as colorful fuzzy socks on your feet. But your face—it made him stop cold. Your eyelashes were wet with freshly shed tears, your eyes were rimmed with redness, and your cheeks were spackled with flush.

Hotch said your name, but he was interrupted.

“Hotch… just—hold me,” you said pleadingly, your voice cracking slightly.

Wordlessly, Hotch opened up his arms to you while he was sitting on the bed, and you fell into him, burying your head into his chest while your body spasmed with sobs.

He didn’t even care if you got snot on his dress shirt. Whatever comfort you needed that he could afford you, he wanted to give it to you. A washable shirt was nothing compared to the weight you seemed to be holding inside.

Soothingly, Hotch rubbed your back while his chin rested on your head and whispered, “Hey, hey.”

You continued sobbing, and tentatively his hand moved up to your hair, stroking it softly. Soon, the shaking and spasming ceased, and you just leaned into him, and the first breath you exhaled seemed like it released twenty pounds of burden from you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently, his hand roving politely over your back. He couldn’t help but think about how the cotton shirt under his hand was the only thing separating him from your skin; probably just as soft and gently dewy if your face was any indicator, but he pushed it away as soon as the thought came—now was not the time.

You were quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Hotch said quietly, “but I know that talking about it… it can help, getting it out in the open.”

“I don’t want to burden you, Hotch. This case was heavy for all of us,” you all but whispered, almost muffled by his shirt.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed you shutting down after a case. Especially pertaining to child abuse. I’ll respect your privacy, but you need to know you don’t have to bear this on your own.”

You chewed your lip as tears threatened to spill over again, contemplating your options. Lie to your boss and evade the question? Pretend everything was okay? Maybe tell him you’re emotional because you’re on your period?

Finally, you lifted your head away from his chest and looked at him. It was almost breathtaking how much comfort and care you found in Hotch’s face, and it sent a shiver down your back as the kindness in his warm brown eyes melted you.

“Hotch…”

“Aaron,” he urged softly, “call me Aaron. Don’t you think we might be beyond work nicknames now?”

“Aaron,” you tested out the name on your tongue like a foreign object as your tone lowered, “I… I have a history with…. sexual abuse.”

“It’s not in your file,” Hotch said, concern creasing his face, and a little bit of his professionalism seeping in.

You shook your head. “It wouldn’t be. I had it sealed away.”

“But-“

“I knew it would affect how people, especially employers in our field, would look at me, Hotch,” you said, “especially as a woman. I… I’m considered weaker emotionally, at least from the stereotypical level anyways. Swimming with this upstream in my public record would’ve held me back. I hold up, and I save my breakdowns for when I get home. And in my defense, this is only the second one I’ve had since I started working at the BAU.”

Hotch looked at you, his brows slightly furrowed. “That… makes sense. But I still wish you had told me- or at least one of us- about this. We could have helped you reach out to resources. You… didn’t deserve to carry all of this by yourself, especially when you know your cases might trigger you.”

“It’s taken me a while to trust anybody with this,” you said softly.

He’s silent for a moment, his hand stilling while it was smoothing your hair. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you every day in the field with my life, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminded you, “You do. But… do you trust me with your past?”

“Yes,” you murmured.

Silence fell between you as you both seemed to become aware of what was happening in that moment.

Your head was on his chest, as it moved up and down with every breath. One of his hands was in your hair while the other was resting on your back. Your hands were splayed on his shoulders. His lips were only mere inches from the crown of your head. Your legs were resting between his. You were in his arms and the shiver of sadness that came with crying was being chased away by the warmth of them around you.

The temptation on Hotch’s part to kiss your head, your nose, your lips, it was almost surmountable. But he didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability, or his position as your superior. He couldn’t do that to you.

So, you did what any subordinate would spontaneously do when they’re a little fatigued by his politeness- you reached up and kissed his face, only missing the corner of his mouth by half of an inch.

He said your name almost in a gasp.

It was such a simple thing, but it shifted the world underneath you both.

“I’m your superior,” Hotch reminded as much to himself as to you, “we can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“You’re emotionally vulnerable right now. I’m your boss and you’re my subordinate, so there’s also a power imbalance. And I- I’m so much older than you. You could have any man you want, you don’t have to settle for me.” His voice cracked almost minutely when he mentioned settling, but you heard it.

You scoffed as you lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not settling, Aaron. I don’t know who told you that nonsense, but no one is settling by… by being with you. And… I may be emotionally vulnerable, yes,” you admitted before your tone turned soft, “but I’ve… I’ve been wanting this for a long time.”

Hotch felt surprise jolt through him and he tried to lean up a little more even with you on top of him, though his hand still cradled the small of your back. “Oh, really?”

“Are you really so surprised?”

“You’re just…” he struggled to find the right way to say what he meant, “you could have anybody you want, you know? I’m a middle aged man headed towards being over the hill, with emotional baggage, and a young son.”

“You’re also emotionally constipated,” you said with a small smile tugging your lips.

He chuckled quietly, and you felt the vibration of it from his chest. “Is that supposed to convince me?”

“It means I’m aware of your shortcomings, Hotch. Or what others may view as shortcomings.”

There was another beat of silence, then things started moving like a whirlwind.

He rolled you over so that you were underneath him, and his nose rubbed the side of your face as he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You really need to start calling me Aaron during these intimate times, don’t you think?”

You gulped as you looked up at him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Hotch asked quietly, “I would feel… so guilty if you ended up… regretting this later. It’s okay to take a bit longer to think about it.”

There was a hint of passion in your voice as you tilted your chin up to him. “You don’t know how long I have been thinking about this, Aaron Hotchner.”

That lit a fire in him that he didn’t know he had a wick for, and his hands slid over the sides of your face as he tilted your head up towards him, inspecting the flush that had formed on your cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful. I’ve always been aware of it, did you know that?”

You opened your mouth to answer, and he covered your lips with his own, feasting on you like a man starved. It wasn’t long before his tongue asked entrance, and you granted it, his tongue grazing against yours.

You weren’t sure how you expected Hotch to kiss. Passionately? Without a doubt. Fervently? Definitely. But you didn’t realize “reverently” and “frenzied” were adjectives that could be used together, and yet it was perfect.

You hadn’t realized you were doing it, but you were grinding against him, his slacks rubbing against the cotton of your shorts, eliciting moans from him that you’d never heard before, but felt like music to your ears as it sent a shiver down your spine. In response, his hands slid to your breasts, his thumb rubbing against your nipples through your thin T-shirt in gentle circles as the rest of his hands cupped your breasts.

“Someone didn’t wear a bra,” Hotch said almost cheekily.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to get felt up tonight,” you laughed.

“I suppose not. You really are beautiful, you know that? And seeing you under me… I never thought you could get prettier, but apparently it’s possible.”

“Aaron…”

Hotch continued rubbing your nipples, gently, but with enough friction that it shot pleasure through you. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Aaron.”

“Do you mind doing me the honors of removing my shirt? Please?” You asked.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, kissing your forehead before he gently set about removing your shirt, shimmying it over your head before tossing it unceremoniously on the AC unit under the window.

You watched nervously as his eyes roved over your chest, almost feeling the burn of his gaze on your skin. But then he began leaning down and kissing a path from your collarbones, down to your belly button.

“Sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent,” he whispered before pressing kisses to each of them, “they’re just right for me.”

“Are you so easy to please?”

Hotch kissed your breasts again in answer, slower this time, as he nipped and sucked on the skin, leaving hickies in his wake. He chuckled to himself as he looked at his handiwork.

“I truly hope you weren’t planning on wearing a low cut shirt tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t, but I guess you eliminated that choice for me.”

He smiled, almost deviously, if you could believe he was capable of it. “You could, but I think you would have to answer some… piqued interests. But I also think… one part of you wants to show everyone, that you were marked, by me. And…” his voice lowered, “I can’t say I hate the idea of it.”

Before you could form a reply, he inched down towards your nipples and took one into his mouth, sucking on them gently. He wasn’t at all surprised when he felt your fingers thread into his hair, tugging at them the more he played with your nipple with his tongue.

Before he switched to the other nipple, he looked up at you, almost ironically puppy dog-like. “Are you enjoying this, my dove?”

“Yes,” you panted, “I’ve… I’ve never had this done to me before.”

He froze where he was. “None of your other partners did this for you?”

You shook your head.

“Amateurs,” Hotch muttered to himself before licking your nipple, wetting it.

Before long, he was back at it, sucking your other nipple, far less gentle than the way he had started, and his hand squeezing and kneading the first breast.

“Dear god-”

He completely unlatched from your breast to smirk at you. “I’m afraid God has nothing to say in this little foray.”

Impatiently, you reached up to unbutton his button up shirt feverishly, your fingers clumsily clashing into each other. Hotch chuckled at your excitement.

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” he murmured to you, his own fingers reaching down to assist you in unbuttoning his shirt.

“Do you know how often I’ve wondered what you look like under here?” You asked as your eyes watched more and more of his chest expose.

“I’m not exactly�� Derek in terms of body shape,” he confided. “And maybe at one point, I would have rivaled him. But I’m afraid my abs have… congealed a bit, especially since I became a dad.” He unbuttoned the last button.

“If you think that will deter me one bit, you have another thought coming, Mr. Hotchner,” you said sassily as you began pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. It was your turn to marvel at him and his body- his arms were toned, his chest had polite smatterings of hair and, much like Hotch in every other facet of his life, a happy trail that could only be described as neat and tidy. He was right that he wasn’t built like Derek, but in every line of him, you could tell he held incredible strength even for the average middle aged man, even if he had an adorable hint of tummy that you wanted to press kisses on. The scars from Foyet did not escape you, and you respectfully reached to trace them with your fingers, a ghost of pressure. To know that he endured that, and thrived in spite of it… you felt soft towards this stern looking man.

“You’re sure you still… want a piece of this?” He said almost awkwardly with a smile.

“If I wasn’t sure before, I know I am now,” you assured him as you kissed the underside of his jaw, “you’re beautiful.”

“I’m… beautiful?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me no one’s called you beautiful before?”

“Handsome, sure. Beautiful… no.”

“Well that’s just sad,” you pressed a kiss to one of his pecs, “because it’s the goddamn truth.”

You’d never seen him blush before, but you smirked with satisfaction when he turned red from his ears down to his neck.

“Are you ready to take this to the next level then?” Hotch asked, his hands moving down to the waistband of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings while he waited for your confirmation.

“Absolutely.”

With shaking hands, he began pulling down your shorts, tugging them down until he could discard them across the room, leaving you in your cotton underwear.

“You’re so wet already,” he said with a small smirk as his fingers touched the crotch of your underwear, hooking it to the side before ultimately deciding to just take it off entirely, as He quickly yanked it off and sling shot it.

“Those were my nice pair,” you mumbled, though you were thrilled at being completely exposed to him, feeling the crisp hotel air against you.

“I’ll buy you some more if they’re ruined,” he promised as he moved further down your body.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” Hotch said as he began rubbing your clit. You squirmed but you couldn’t stop the moan that sprang from you.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he praised you, “the noises you make are almost provocative, sweetheart.”

“You’re too good,” you said breathlessly, the tightness in your stomach overwhelming you. Hotch chuckled as he kissed the side of your neck, careful not to leave a mark, knowing you’ll still have to ride on the jet home with the rest of the team tomorrow.

“I’m not sure if that speaks well of me or poorly of the guys you’ve been with before, sweetheart, we’re just getting started here,” he deflected slightly. He continued rubbing your clit, the circular motion sending jolts of what felt like electricity through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached to the side and gripped the sheets when he began sliding a finger in tentatively, his thumb on your sensitive nerves now, keeping the circular motion going. His eyes searched yours, those eyes slightly darkened by warm lust.

“Is this good?” Hotch asked.

“God, yes,” you bit out.

He hummed a noise of acknowledgment while he slid in a second finger, emitting a moan from you.

“You’re so tight, darling,” he murmured, “am I going to need to stretch you out a little before we get to the main event?”

“It’s been a while,” you admitted.

“How long?”

“Before I moved to Quantico.”

Hotch was quiet for a moment, surprise registering on his face. “Baby, that was… at least over a year ago.”

“I’m so busy with work that I hardly have time to meander into the dating scene. Haven’t really wanted to either.”

“Maybe we could talk to your boss about that,” he said teasingly.

You were about to respond when you felt his third finger slide in, and you took a deep breath.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed into your ear, his voice low with desire, “taking me so well while I fill you up with my fingers, and taking those deep breaths.”

His fingers pumping in and out of you made you gasp and grasp the bed sheets even tighter between your fingers. You hadn’t, in a million years, thought you would be in a position where Aaron Hotchner was between your legs, pleasuring you with his fingers. Those fingers you had studied for months, fiddling with pens while he listened to others talk, and fantasized what they could do to you. Now you were feeling it, you were finally feeling what exactly those fingers will and can do to you- and the answer was “make you feel fucking amazing.”

The combination of his fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit was too wonderful to describe. You could write a sonnet and it still wouldn’t completely encapsulate how you felt.

“I think I’m ready,” you whispered.

“Are you sure, baby?” He murmured, “we don’t have to hurry. If it’s been awhile for you, then I think we should take our time. You deserve to be completely ready and comfortable.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” you said, glancing down at where you could feel his erection against your leg. Hotch blushed slightly.

“This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is all about you. And you make me feel good when you feel good, making all those pretty sounds for me, knowing I’m the one who makes you feel like that, and that I’m the one with my fingers in your pretty pussy.”

You shivered again, but you bit your lip as you looked down at him.

“I still need to put my mouth on you, baby. Do you want that? To feel my lips on you while my tongue finds your swollen clit?”

“I… you don’t have to, I know some guys don’t-“

“Don’t tell me you think it’s an action of sacrifice on my part,” he scoffed with a smile, “like I said before, I want to make you feel good. I would be honored to eat you out, darling.”

Your cheeks were pink from the slightly crass words. “I didn’t even know you knew-“

“Just how old do you think I am?” Hotch rolled his eyes. He gently slid his fingers out of you and you barely stifled a groan as you felt the loss.

“So do I have your permission?” He asked, kissing your neck again.

“Yes sir.”

He smirked up at you as he bent his head towards your core. “You’re calling me sir now?”

“Terrible habit.”

Feeling Hotch’s lips on you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, but the moment his tongue began lapping at your clit, rolling it around and sucking on it, you don’t know where you went. Everything melted away, and all you felt was him.

Occasionally his eyes would flit up from his task and gauge your reaction, but every time, he knew you were more than satisfied. You grasped the bed-sheets tighter still, your head tilted back as a loud moan you didn’t realize you were making left your lips.

As his tongue searched relentlessly, hitting nerves you forgot you had, your legs jerked in response. Without even looking, his hand grasped your hips, stilling them firmly.

“Oh my god-“ you groaned.

Hotch moved away from you, his lips and chin covered in your juices, but a devious smile alighted on his face. “I take it that you liked it?”

You panted a few breaths. “A little.”

“Ah, yes, a little is what got your cum all over my face- imagine if it was a lot?” he chuckled as he moved himself up your body to kiss your lips, your juices meeting your tongue.

“Aaron, I…” you hesitated for a moment. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think I want to do this again. When we get home in Quantico. And… I want to save the… you know, actual sex, for then. In one of our actual beds. Am… am I being too presumptuous?”

He kissed your forehead. “You would’ve been a fool if you thought I was going to risk it all for a one time thing, sweetheart. Of course I want this again, you’re not being presumptuous.”

Hotch moved to climb off of her, but you grabbed him by the belt loop with a hooked finger and a raised eyebrow, emboldened by your arousal.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked.

He chuckled. “As much as I loved eating you out, I can’t live with your juice on my face, dove. And… I figured you were signaling to me that we were done for the night, so I was going to clean you up.”

“We’re not done.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow.

She glanced pointedly at his erection, tenting his slacks.

“Oh… darling, we don’t have to-”

“I know we don’t. I want to.”

Hotch leaned back on his knees. “Darling, I-“

“I hate having to keep interrupting you, sir, but perhaps losing the slacks will help us to continue this conversation.”

He reached down for his belt buckle with a laugh. “Bossy, aren’t we?”

Within a few seconds, he had unbuckled and his slacks beside the bed. Through his boxers, the outline of his dick was prominent, and you felt your mouth salivate at the sight of it.

“You did this to me, baby,” Hotch said softly.

You blushed, still looking at him, but your hands reached for the waistband of his boxers, and inched them lower.

“Damn, sweetie, do you have a permit to conceal this large of a weapon?” you drawled as you stared eagerly at his dick, the pre-cum gathering at the tip of it as it stood tall.

He chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. “This one and a few others.”

“How do you want us to do this?”

Hotch hummed. “On your knees on the floor, sweetheart. Do you need a pillow?”

You clambered off the bed and got on your knees, waiting for him to follow suit.

He stood in front of you, almost hesitant, but the moment you gingerly grasped his dick, something in his eyes snapped into action, and his hands grasped your hair, tugging at the roots slightly.

You licked him from balls to tip, and under your touch, you could feel him shudder.

Experimentally, you swirled your tongue around the tip, then eased it into your mouth until you felt him hit your cheek

“Fuck-” Hotch rasped, his grip in your hair getting tighter, “you’re teasing me, doll.”

You looked up at him with arched eyebrows, deviousness reflecting in the glint of your eyes.

“You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? All those times we were on cases and you’d do those cute little mannerisms of yours. You’d tap your finger to your chin, or you’d part your lips when you would lift your head to look at something. Or when you would drink your coffee and widen your eyes at me over your mug. You’re just- fuck.”

Of course, that sudden expletive was because you’d mischievously pulled a bait and switch and taken him all the way to the back of your throat, opening up wider for him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed, “sweetie, you’re marvelous, I- shit.”

You looked innocently up at him, although the slight shift in movement almost made you choke.

“That will teach you, you cheeky- oh god, I don’t know how much longer I can keep…”

Ropes of cum spilled down your throat, and somehow you swallowed it all, though it took a lot of effort to do so. After it dissipated, you pulled away from him, just sitting back on your knees and looking up at the beautiful man before you, his hands in your hair. To the eye that didn’t know anything about him, he was just an average middle aged man, but to hers, before her stood a man who had been through so much, and loved and cared despite the risks involved, and whose strength was unmatched.

Hotch gently pulled you to the bed and laid you down. “I’m going to be right back, sweet thing,” he said as he kissed your forehead before going to the bathroom to retrieve wet wash rags.

Thirty minutes later found you on his chest, skin to skin, and his arms around you gently.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You asked.

“Probably, but what?” He replied before kissing the crown of your hair.

“When you said you noticed all of the cute little mannerisms I apparently do.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating his chest under you. “Absolutely I do. I’ve noticed from the beginning, when you applied for this job and came in for an interview. You kept touching your neck when you were nervous or felt vulnerable.”

Your eyebrows collided. “You were still in the process of divorcing Haley at that time.”

“I can’t say I immediately fell in love with you at first sight,” he admitted, “but I can say I felt like I met someone I thought would be nice to have around.”

“When… did you realize you liked me in a… in a different way?”

Hotch stroked your back. “When you remembered Jack’s birthday and sent home a little present by me to him.”

“God… Hotch-“

“We just went through all of this for you to call me Hotch? Really?” He smiled cheekily.

“It’s a habit! Anyways, you… you’ve known for that long? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to cross any lines that I shouldn’t have,” he said simply.

“We’re going to have to figure out how to deal with the fallout from here, you realize that, right? And Strauss.”

“God, I didn’t think I’d hear Strauss brought up post coitus,” Hotch groaned. You laughed heartily.

“Let’s just… keep it between us. Just for now.”

“For now,” he agreed. You snuggled into his chest, and fell asleep like that.

Of course, you forgot that he left a mark on your collarbone when you had to untangle your limbs from him the next morning to pack up and get on the jet and go home. You couldn’t use the curling iron excuse, not that far down. And it was simply too hot for a turtleneck. So, before you boarded the jet, you made up your mind to gaslight everyone. And you meant everyone.

“Am I crazy or is that a hickey?” Derek pointed out when you sat across from him at the four seater, closest to the window. Hotch lifted a brow and widened his eyes at you from where he was sitting, conveniently facing you at the two seater behind Derek.

“God, Derek, don’t you know anything? This is a birthmark.”

“A… a birthmark?” Derek sounded bewildered. “Girl, I’ve known you for almost over a year now. You didn’t have a birthmark.”

“You didn’t notice? I’m almost hurt, Derek Walter Morgan.”

“That is not my real middle name, you know that, right?” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Where could you have possibly gotten any lovin’ from, hm? I know it wasn’t boss man.”

“You know, Derek is right. I don’t remember you having a birthmark,” Spencer jumped in from where he was perched on the couch across from you guys.

“Oh c’mon, Reid, like you’re the most observant person in the room!” You said with a smile.

“I know an iron burn when I see one and… sorry, but that’s not it,” Emily quipped.

“It’s just a birthmark- have you guys considered concealer exists? What’s next, you guys believe Emily naturally has berry red lips too? Gullible.”

“So… why did you leave it off today?” Rossi asked, obviously suspicious.

“I woke up late. Didn’t have time to do my makeup routine.”

This begrudgingly seemed to suffice most of the team, but Rossi was no fool, and he noticed Hotch’s t-shirt under your flannel, and winked at Hotch, who only rolled his eyes, then glanced at you, a vulnerable smitten woman among profilers.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #smut

479 notes · View notes

zesty4zenin · 2 months ago

Note

I’m pretty sure I sent one- but nonetheless! I remember exactly. Can you do a Yandere! Yuji oneshot? It’s much like your teen Gojo one, but instead reader was originally a transfer student from the USA and came to Jujutsu tech to learn more but then had to go back home? If that makes any sense whatsoever, I’ve had this idea for a while now!

“𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.” YANDERE!YUJI ITADORI X GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

SYPNOSIS: Yuji meets the American transfer student and can’t help but come to love them! But what happens when he finds out they have to go back home?

WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, and that’s it!

A/N: it made sense, dw!! Thanks for the request ^^ also I felt like I made Yuji like softish yandere, not too crazy lol

IT WAS another day at Jujutsu Tech for Yuji. Same routine as usual—learn how to control his cursed energy, fool around a little bit, then continue training. Afterward, he’d finish school, hang out with Nobara and Megumi, and go back to his dorm to sleep.

It was a routine he followed every day, yet Yuji didn’t dislike it. In fact, he found it enjoyable, even comforting. There was always something fun about their banter and training sessions.

But sometimes, a small part of him wished for something different. A new face among the first years, someone to add a spark to their already dynamic group. Don’t get him wrong, he liked Nobara and Megumi. They were his friends. He just… wanted to meet someone new.

And that’s exactly what happened.

One day, as Yuji was walking into class, he spotted Nobara and Megumi talking quietly in the corner. Their heads were close together, and they seemed deep in conversation. Curiosity piqued, Yuji strolled over, plopping down between the two of them with a bright grin.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Yuji asked, eyes darting between them.

Nobara huffed, leaning back in her seat. "We’re getting a new student," she said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "Gojo-sensei wouldn’t shut up about it before he left to go get them."

Yuji’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A new student? Seriously? I didn’t hear anything about that!" His voice was laced with excitement as he leaned forward. "Did Gojo-sensei say anything else? Like, who they are or what they can do?"

Megumi shrugged, his usual stoic expression in place. "No details yet. Just that they’d be joining our class."

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Knowing Gojo, he’s probably making it more dramatic than it needs to be. But still… it’ll be interesting to see what they’re like."

Yuji’s mind buzzed with possibilities. Who could this new student be? Would they be strong? Fun to hang out with? His excitement grew, though he couldn’t shake a strange, underlying feeling that this new arrival would change things.

Yuji barely had time to ask another question before the door slid open, revealing Gojo with his usual carefree smile plastered on his face. But this time, he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was someone new—someone Yuji had never seen before.

“Alright, everyone!” Gojo announced, his voice carrying through the room. “I’d like to introduce you to your new classmate! They’re from the USA, so play nice.”

Yuji’s eyes immediately locked onto you, and the world seemed to slow down for a moment. You stood there, quietly beside Gojo, your expression a little nervous but determined. There was something about you that Yuji couldn’t quite place—maybe it was the way you carried yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that you were new, different.

“This is [Your Name]. They’ve come a long way, so let’s make them feel welcome!” Gojo said, giving you a gentle nudge forward.

“Hi,” you greeted softly, your voice drawing Yuji’s attention even more. The way you spoke was different, a little unfamiliar, but it intrigued him.

Nobara waved lazily, “Cool, nice to meet you. Don’t mess up on the first day, okay?” she teased.

Megumi gave a small nod, but Yuji was still staring at you, his mind whirling. USA? That was cool! But more than that, something strange was happening—his heart was pounding in his chest, a little faster than normal. A warm, almost uncomfortable feeling spread through him, and for the first time in a long time, Yuji felt… off-balance.

What is this? Yuji thought, blinking as he tried to calm the weird sensation creeping up on him. He’d never felt this way before, not even with all the excitement in his life. He swallowed, his throat dry, as he wondered if this was what people meant by "love at first sight." Could it really be happening to him? Right now?

Gojo clapped his hands, snapping Yuji out of his thoughts. “Alright, take a seat, and we’ll get started. Yuji, maybe you can show them around later?”

Yuji felt his face flush. "Uh, yeah! I’d—uh—I’d love to!" he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. Nobara shot him a strange look, but Yuji couldn’t focus on anything other than you and the rapid thudding of his heart.

As you made your way to sit down, Yuji couldn't stop stealing glances in your direction. There was something about your presence that pulled him in, something magnetic. He couldn’t explain it, but he was determined to get to know you.

Could this really be love?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days had passed since you arrived at Jujutsu Tech, and Yuji had quickly become your unofficial guide. Wherever you went, he wasn’t far behind, always smiling and eager to help. It was as if he had taken it upon himself to make sure you felt comfortable—and he did so with relentless enthusiasm.

"Hey! Do you wanna check out the training grounds after class?" Yuji asked one afternoon, his voice full of energy as usual. "I could show you some of my moves, and maybe you could show me what you’ve got!"

You smiled politely, nodding. "Sure, sounds good," you said, though your mind drifted to the fact that you hadn’t had a moment alone in days. Not that Yuji was unpleasant, but his constant presence had started to feel a bit… overwhelming.

During those few days, Yuji had been like a shadow, always around, always talking. He showed you everything—where Gojo liked to disappear to, the best spots to train, even introducing you to his favorite movie, Human Earthworm.

That one had been… interesting, to say the least. You’d sat through the whole thing with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along as Yuji excitedly explained each ridiculous plot point. But truth be told, you found the movie more than a little icky. The thought of saying that out loud, however, seemed like it would crush Yuji’s spirits, so you kept it to yourself.

Now, as the days passed, it had become clear that Yuji was spending more time with you than with Nobara and Megumi. The two of them had even made jokes about it.

"Looks like you’ve been replaced," Nobara had teased Megumi earlier that morning, crossing her arms and giving a knowing smirk. "Yuji’s got a new best friend."

Megumi had just shrugged, as stoic as ever. "It’s not like he was ever that quiet around us, but now… it’s a bit much, don’t you think?"

But to Yuji, spending all his time with you just felt right. He wasn’t even fully aware of how much he had gravitated toward you; it just happened. Whether it was showing you around the school, helping you with assignments, or introducing you to his favorite snacks, Yuji had become your constant companion.

One day, while walking through the courtyard, Yuji beamed at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really glad you came to Jujutsu Tech. It’s been… different, in a good way, y’know?"

You chuckled softly, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Yeah, it’s been nice. I’m starting to feel more comfortable here."

That made Yuji’s grin widen. "Good! ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere! If you ever need anything, I’m here, okay?" His voice had a hint of something deeper, something that almost bordered on possessive, but his tone remained cheerful enough for you to brush it off.

"Thanks, Yuji. I appreciate it." You smiled back, though a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if his constant hovering would ever let up. Still, his heart was in the right place, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for space—not when he looked so genuinely happy to be around you.

Yuji’s grin stayed plastered on his face as the two of you continued walking through the courtyard. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was making sure you were still there. “You know,” he started, his voice more casual now, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe after class, we could catch another movie. I’ve got a list of my favorites—ones I think you’ll really like.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, remembering the last time. “Another one? I’m still recovering from Human Earthworm.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, maybe that one was a bit much for a first pick. But I swear, the others are better! Way less icky, promise.”

"Sure, I’m game," you agreed, though you mentally prepared yourself for whatever bizarre film he had in store next. Yuji’s excitement was contagious, and despite your reservations, you couldn’t say no to him. His energy was something you’d come to expect, and part of you didn’t mind indulging him.

Yuji’s face lit up. "Great! I’ll pick a good one this time, I swear! It’ll be something you actually like." His gaze softened for a moment as he added, "I want you to have fun, y’know? Since you’ve been spending all your time with me… I don’t want to, like, bore you or anything."

You looked at him, a little surprised by his sudden concern. "You’re not boring, Yuji," you reassured him, offering a warm smile. "I appreciate you showing me around and everything. It’s been… nice having someone like you around."

His eyes seemed to brighten at that, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Really? That’s… that’s great!” He practically beamed at you, looking like a puppy who’d just been given the best compliment of his life. “I was kinda worried, y’know? That maybe I was… uh… hanging around too much. But if you don’t mind, then I guess it’s all good!”

You hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Yeah, it’s fine. You’re just being helpful."

“Exactly!” he said, his voice picking up again with enthusiasm. “I just wanna help! I mean, I know being new here can be tough, so if I can make it easier for you, then I’m all in.”

As he talked, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you a bit longer than usual, like he was soaking up every word you said. There was something more in his gaze, something intense, but it was masked by his usual cheerfulness.

Before you could dwell on it, Yuji clapped his hands together. “Alright, so it’s a movie night then! I’ll grab some snacks, and we’ll meet up after class. You’re gonna love it, trust me!”

"Sounds like a plan," you said, trying to match his excitement, though a small part of you wondered just how long this constant attention would last. But as Yuji bounced beside you, clearly thrilled at the idea of spending more time together, you decided to push the thought aside.

At least for now.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few months later, Yuji entered the classroom, a bright grin on his face as usual. He was in a good mood—he always was when he knew he’d get to spend the day with you. These past months had been incredible for him. You two had grown closer, and he’d spent nearly every waking moment with you.

But as he walked in, something stopped him in his tracks. Across the room, you were standing with Nobara, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. A little further away, Megumi was shaking your hand, his expression calm but respectful.

Yuji’s brow furrowed. What was going on? His heart gave an uncomfortable lurch, and he felt the familiar knot of jealousy coil in his chest. Why are they so close to you? Nobara's arms around you, Megumi's hand in yours—he didn't like it. But he forced himself to keep a smile on his face as he made his way over.

“Hey!” Yuji called out, his voice slightly too cheerful as he approached the group. “What’s going on here?” He tried to keep his tone light, but the jealousy simmering beneath the surface was hard to hide. He clenched his fists at his sides, making sure to smile as if everything was fine. But inside, a storm was brewing.

You turned to face him, and Yuji’s stomach dropped when he saw the look on your face. There was a hint of sadness in your eyes, something he didn’t quite understand. He could feel his heart racing, a nervous energy starting to fill him as he waited for your answer.

“Yuji, I…” you started, your voice softer than usual. “I’m going back to the USA. I’ve decided that I’ve learned enough here, and it’s time for me to head home.”

Yuji felt like the ground had just been ripped out from beneath him. His heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He tried to keep the smile on his face, but it faltered as your words sunk in.

“You’re… leaving?” he asked, his voice cracking despite his efforts to keep it steady. “But… why? You were doing great here. You don’t have to go…”

You smiled gently, your expression filled with understanding but also finality. “Yeah, but I think it’s time. I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve enjoyed my time here, but… it’s time to go back.”

Yuji felt something inside him break, like a small piece of himself had been shattered. He tried to speak, to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he stood there, staring at you, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all.

"But… what about… us?" he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper. His mind flashed through the memories of the time you'd spent together—every laugh, every smile, every moment he’d spent at your side. He couldn’t imagine Jujutsu Tech without you. He didn’t want to. You can't just leave. Not now. Not when I…

You sighed, your expression soft. “I’ll still keep in touch. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. This isn’t goodbye forever.”

But to Yuji, it felt like it. He could feel his heart sinking, a hollow ache spreading through his chest. He forced a smile, nodding as if he understood. “Yeah… yeah, of course. I mean, I’m happy for you,” he said, though his voice sounded distant to his own ears.

Nobara, still beside you, gave Yuji a sympathetic glance. “Hey, don’t be so down. They’ll visit, right? It’s not like we’re losing them completely.”

But to Yuji, it felt like losing everything.

“I’ll… I’ll catch up with you later,” Yuji mumbled, backing away before anyone could see the cracks forming in his usually bright demeanor. He turned and quickly left the room, the weight of your departure pressing down on him harder with each step.

As he walked down the hall, the reality hit him all at once. You were leaving. And no matter how much time you’d spent together, no matter how close you’d become, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Yuji walked aimlessly through the hallways, his mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. Every step felt heavier than the last, each breath more labored. He couldn’t believe it. You were leaving. The reality of it crushed him with an intensity he hadn’t anticipated. He replayed every moment of your time together, each smile and laugh, trying to convince himself that it had all meant something.

As he stood at a crossroads in his thoughts, one realization cut through the fog of his anguish—he couldn’t imagine his life without you. The time you had spent together wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it had grown into something deeper, something he couldn’t simply let go.

In his mind, you were his. All the moments, all the time you’d spent together, it couldn’t have meant nothing. You have to be his, Yuji thought desperately. You have to stay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After school, he walked with purpose, his resolve firm. He knew where you were—your dorm room. He was going to see you, to make sure you knew how much you meant to him, how he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

As he approached your dorm, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. He needed to talk to you, to make you understand how important you were to him, to convince you that leaving wasn’t an option.

The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open, stepping inside. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of your belongings. You were sitting by your desk, going through some papers, seemingly lost in thought.

Yuji took a moment to collect himself, standing in the doorway as he looked at you. The sight of you in your dorm room, surrounded by your things, made his heart ache even more. He took another step forward, his voice trembling but filled with determination.

“Hey,” he started, his tone softer than he intended. “Can we talk?”

You looked up from your desk, surprised to see Yuji standing in your doorway. His face was a mix of determination and vulnerability that immediately caught your attention. You nodded, setting aside the papers and gesturing for him to come in.

“Sure, Yuji. What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the apprehension you felt.

Yuji stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes were intense, and there was a desperation in his expression that you hadn’t seen before. “I… I just wanted to talk about what you said earlier,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “About you leaving.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt as you met his gaze. “Yuji, I’ve made up my mind. It’s time for me to go back home. I’ve learned a lot here, and I think it’s best for me.”

Yuji shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No, you don’t understand. You can’t just leave. Not like this.”

“Why not?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation grounded. “It’s my decision, Yuji. It’s what I think is best for me.”

“But… what about us?” Yuji said, stepping closer. “All the time we’ve spent together—doesn’t that mean anything to you? Doesn’t it matter that we’ve grown so close?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. “Of course it matters. But sometimes, we have to make tough choices. This is mine.”

Yuji’s eyes filled with tears, and he took another step closer, his voice trembling. “I can’t… I can’t imagine my life without you. You mean so much to me. Every day with you has been… incredible. I don’t want to lose that.”

You looked away, feeling your resolve beginning to waver. “Yuji, I… I don’t know what to say.”

Yuji reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Please, don’t go. I need you here. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His confession hit you like a tidal wave, and you tried to process the intensity of his words. Yuji’s grip tightened on your hand, and he pulled you closer. His eyes searched yours, filled with an earnest, almost desperate longing.

“Yuji,” you whispered, feeling the heat of his emotions. “This isn’t fair…”

“I know,” Yuji said, his voice breaking. “But I can’t help how I feel. I need you. I need you to stay.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle, almost pleading touch. The kiss was soft, but there was an undeniable intensity in it—a mixture of his desperation and his deep affection. Your mind raced as you felt the warmth of his lips, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.

When he pulled back, his eyes were still locked on yours, filled with a hope that made your heart ache. “Please,” he repeated softly. “Stay with me.”

You felt your defenses crumble under the weight of his emotions. The kiss had stirred something inside you, a mix of affection and confusion. You were torn between your decision and the impact Yuji’s words—and actions—had on you.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay, Yuji. I’ll stay.”

Yuji’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy, his tears giving way to a bright, hopeful smile. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his embrace and the depth of his emotions were overwhelming, and you found yourself caught up in the storm of his love and need.

As he held you, Yuji felt a fragile sense of victory, his heart still racing from the raw vulnerability he had shown. He had managed to sway you, to keep you by his side, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of what was fair.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. “Okay, I’ll tell Gojo-sensei that I’m staying,” you said softly, trying to offer a sense of finality to your decision.

Yuji’s face lit up with unrestrained happiness. He practically glowed with relief, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and triumph. “Really? That’s… that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice full of gratitude and relief. He wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in, his face pressing against your neck in a gesture of affection and possessiveness.

You felt the warmth of his body against yours, his embrace both comforting and confining. It was clear how much this meant to him, how desperate he had been to keep you here. You reached for your phone, trying to maintain your composure as you dialed Gojo’s number.

As you waited for Gojo to pick up, Yuji’s nuzzling became more insistent. His breath tickled your neck, and his grip tightened, almost as if he were afraid you might slip away at any moment. The closeness of his body made it hard to focus on anything but him.

Gojo’s voice came through the phone, interrupting the moment. “Hey, [Your Name], what’s up?”

“Gojo-sensei,” you began, your voice wavering slightly as you tried to sound composed. “I’ve decided to stay here. I want to continue my training at Jujutsu Tech.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Gojo responded with a note of surprise. “Oh? That’s… unexpected. Are you sure? I thought you were set on leaving.”

“Yes,” you said, more firmly now. “I’ve thought it over and decided it’s best for me to stay.”

“Alright,” Gojo said, his tone accepting though still a bit puzzled. “If that’s what you want, then I’m glad to hear it. I’ll let everyone know.”

You ended the call and set your phone down, feeling Yuji’s embrace tightening even more. He seemed to be in a state of bliss, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a contented sigh.

“You have no idea how happy I am,” Yuji murmured, his voice muffled by your neck. “I was so scared you’d leave. I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear it.”

As you stood there, feeling Yuji’s warmth enveloping you, a shiver ran down your spine. A small part of you was uneasy, a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But the intense emotion Yuji was showing you, combined with the sudden shift in your plans, made it hard to focus on anything but the present moment.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that Yuji had taken steps to ensure that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to. While you were making your decision, he had discreetly taken your passport and any other important documents you might need to travel. His love for you had driven him to secure you in ways that you hadn’t yet discovered.

For Yuji, this wasn’t just about convincing you to stay. In his mind, you were his, and he had done what he felt was necessary to make sure you would never leave. His embrace, his contentment, and his possessiveness were all part of a plan to keep you close, ensuring that no matter what, you would remain by his side forever.

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ah0minecchi · 6 months ago

Text

IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!♥︎ megumi f. x reader

Ꮺ in which meeting megumi fushiguro was a complete, but sweet, sweet chaos . . .

cw: angsty af, mentions of intimacy, use of alcohol if u squint

NOW PLAYING! 💿 cherry waves - deftones

<𝟑.𖥔 ݁ ˖

dear megumi:

sometimes i wish i could tear apart this heart of mine, that’s apparently too big for my body. i wish i could just shut down everything you were and are for me. i wish i could turn off everything you light up in me. ever since the beginning…

[ ♥︎ ]

“so you’re fushiguro… yuuji talks a lot about you.” i looked at him, finally getting to meet my best friend’s best friend… wow. “just call him megumi, y’all are basically indirect friends at this point.” yuuji laughed, which i followed, looking at the raven haired boy for his approval.

“call me what you like.” megumi responded nonchalantly.

[ ♥︎ ]

i’ve been wondering nonstop what the fuck i did wrong. did i not deserve you? wasn’t i good enough? all those times i dropped everything just to run after you, all those times i promised you the whole world… weren’t they enough? weren’t you tired? of having me chase you around all day? did it bore you? having someone care so deeply about you, but not feeling the same about them?

i don’t think you can even imagine how it feels… cause, fuck.. has anyone ever said ‘no’ to you? have you ever wanted to pursue something that doesn't want you until it suffocates?

it hurts. it really fucking hurts.

[ ♥︎ ]

“are you at the party yet?” megumi asked through his phone, reaching my ear. “yeaaahhhh, im kinda drunk to be honest hahaha… but it’s real fun in here! you should come… pleeeaaasee.” there were a few seconds of silence until megumi broke it, shoting straight to my heart in the process.

“i don’t know how the fuck i’ll get there… but i will get there.” he hung up, leaving me excitedly waiting for him as i told all of our friends he was attending.

[ ♥︎ ]

that one night you kissed me, did i mean anything to you? cause at that very moment, to me, you were the whole world. my whole world. that one night i ended up tangled in your sheets. was i just another one on the list? cause to me, it was the very first time i felt cared about. you showed me the love i never thought i’d deserve.

could i even call it love?

i think you’d just call it lust.

[ ♥︎ ]

“how is yuuji going to find out about this?” i asked megumi as i ruffled his bed hair. “i think we should just tell him… but not now.” he answered as he scanned every detail on my face.

[ ♥︎ ]

i wish i knew what you meant by that. all the while i wanted to keep you as a promise, you just wanted to keep me as a secret. i wish nothing had ever happened, not because i regret it, nor did i not love it for a moment, but because i don't want to feel like this anymore. not with you.

i tried. i tried to be your friend. leave everything behind and continue as if nothing had happened. but the mere idea of thinking that I was never for you what you were for me is enough to make my heart ache.

maybe we live in a world full of superficialities, empty, where everything is momentary pleasures, satisfyingly chaotic, and pleasantly disposable. i never want to fall like this again. i don't want to dream so high again. i don't want to be so naive again.

but i can’t help it when it’s you.

[ ♥︎ ]

“i’m not ready for anything, with anyone…” he sated as tears started rolling down my face. why? why’d you give me a taste of some love you couldn’t give me? or didn’t want to give me…

[ ♥︎ ]

weeks passed, and i started to accept the fact that it was not gonna happen. i started seeing someone else.

maybe you didn’t want to have me, but you definitely didn’t want to lose me…

[ ♥︎ ]

“you coming y/n? we gonna go grab ice cream or sum.” yuuji asked turning back to look at me. i couldn’t tear my gaze away from my phone, but i didn’t fail to notice how megumi looked at me.

“uhmm actually, go ahead without me guys! i’ll hang out with yuta later…” i commented as i blushed lightly. “OOOOOO Y/N’s GOT A DATEEE” yuuji joked.

megumi didn’t say a word until i left.

[ ♥︎ ]

next day, everything changed. that kiss you stole from me… i wish i could have it back.

you told me you were ready, that you wanted this. that you wanted me.

you made fall all over again. but deeper this time. you tricked me into your game once again. i mistook your lies for a future, with sins and sweet promises.

friday. i wanted to confront you about it.

and you tore it all apart. again.

i am so fucking greedy, and i don't want to let something i love die, even though i know i will never have it.

i’d fucking love to be your friend. i’d fucking love to pretend that it doesn't burn my skin to want to hug you and not be able to do so. i’d love not to want to know everything about you.

i wish i didn’t want to be your whole world.

i don't know why you hurt this much. i barely know you, and yet, i can't imagine a life without you. i have never had the courage to face what i truly feel. cause it's too soon, cause it would only complicate everything, or just because you don't want to hear it.

but i love you, megumi.

i wish it wasn’t like that. none of this.

yours truly.

y/n

a/n: i wish i could lie to y’all and say this wasn’t based on a personal experience but haha guess what…

AND SORRY FOR THE ANGST I LITERALLY CANNOT WRITE HAPPY SHIT WTF

LIKES, COMMENTS & REBLOGS are very much appreciated ♪( ´θ｀)ノtysm for reading !! <3

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pandafruit · 5 months ago

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Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

#artemis fowl #fowldom #one thing I like about this AU is there's a lot of room for interpretation #p much anything could happen after Holly leaves #if you guys want to take this idea and run w it please do! go nuts!!#and please do help me w a name bc I am terrible at those lmao

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sociopathicartist · 8 months ago

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In case I don’t tell you enough, I love you.

a letter from sans directed to you, his lover.

y/n,

it’s been five years since monsterkind was freed from the surface.

it’s been four years since i’ve met you.

it’s april, and i’m still missing you.

maybe it’s stupid of me to miss you considering that i left your house only a few hours ago, and i’m laying in bed writing this on some loose paper i found on my floor while i think of you.

weirdly enough, the silence in my room is now unsettling compared to how calming it used to be. i guess the fan in your room blowing wind on your bed that i’ve yet to see turned off has grown on me. or maybe it’s the rain sounds you always have playing on your tv that clash with the fan that grew on me.

or maybe it’s you that's grown on me.

sometimes when i have a nightmare or i can't sleep i play fan and rain sounds on youtube to help me rest, not even thinking consciously about it anymore. it always just makes me feel like i’m back in bed with you with my eyes closed, waiting for you to come back from the kitchen with the glass of water that you wanted.

i wish that i could sum it up and say i can't find the words to describe how i feel, but that’s a lie. i know exactly how i feel about you.

tracing my phalanges along the little scars and nicks of your skin when i’m next to you never fails to entertain me. neither does running my hand through your hair, or twisting the rings on your fingers, or kissing you quickly for the 1000th time. i never thought i would be fond of that sort of stuff, i never thought i was a guy for any sort of romance.

i guess i just never realized that all i needed was the right person to give it to me. all i needed was you.

i’m not the best writer. even my lab logs from the rare times when i help alphys with her scientific tests are messy and short out. it’s almost like having all these thoughts about you is starting to eat me alive. i guess i have nowhere else to put them but on a piece of paper. if we ever get married one day like i hope we do, i’d like to give this to you. who knows when that will be though, so i guess this letter will just sit in one of my drawers collecting dust until i can give it to you. it kinda sucks to think about the fact that these words might never reach you, but that’s the way life is. it sucks most of the time.

i get this weird sinking feeling in my ribs near where my soul rests sometimes. it’s mostly when i think about how i miss you. sometimes my hand reaches up and brushes up and down my shoulder blade when i’m lying in bed alone, mimicking the motion that your hand does to me all the time when we lay together. i don’t even notice it happens anymore, but when i do and i realize you’re not actually there, that’s when that weird sinking feeling happens. it also happens on the rare thought of you not being in my future one day, even though i know that won't happen. i know you wouldn’t leave me.

i can’t help but wonder what this feeling was before i met you, and why i never got it.

was i just empty all the time?

even though i remember in great detail why my depression was so bad back then, back before i met you, i guess these happy years with everyone have slowly washed away that feeling. i felt so horrible for so long, and i didn’t care to ever try and get better because there was no point back then, but for some reason whenever i try to think of what was there in my life that i had like this, it’s almost numbed away from my memories. it’s like a bad nightmare that got washed away with the morning light.

that’s not to say i’m not thankful and glad i’m doing better now. sure, i’m still working things out, but who isn’t? i don’t think i wouldn’t have ever actually gotten help if it wasn’t for you, though. you’re really the only person who's ever seen me so clearly. i love how i don’t even have to tell you if something is wrong anymore, you just look at me and know. did you know that i’ve never had anyone take the time to notice the small difference between my genuine smile versus my resting and permanent one? the day you pointed that out to me was the day i realized i liked you.

i also thought it would take me a while to realize when i liked someone seriously. i think the last time i ever had a crush was… actually, i can’t remember. in the movies and books, it’s always the same scenario of ‘i like you but i haven’t liked anyone before so i don’t realize i like you until it’s too late’ but that wasn’t the case. i knew the moment i liked you.

it was this odd twinge in me that just kinda sprung throughout my bones. i think it’s the same equivalent of getting butterflies in your stomach, but without a stomach. i noticed your looks before, and i guess this sounds weird to say, but it was like after so long of friendship that i actually… noticed you.

you looked so beautiful, and you still do.

the shock at work and from other people was really funny when they found out we were dating. i don’t think they ever actually thought i’d find someone to settle down with. our friends knew better though. as shocked as our friends tried to act, it was pretty obvious that they were expecting it. i can’t believe it was that obvious that we liked each other.

there’s no big resolution to writing this. i just felt like writing it so that i could share the feelings i feel about you but that i forget to say when we are around each other. it’s not like i can get a single word in with how much you smooch on me though. not that i mind.

it’s not to say that if my puns ever get too much for you, or if you decide that i’m too lazy and you feel like you can’t leave, you can. i just really don’t want you to. i have a strong feeling that you don’t ever want to leave either.

i can’t wait to see how the rest of our lives turn out together. when we move in, get married, and just enjoy each other’s time. i know it’s crazy to hear from me, but i can’t wait to do the dishes with you and put away the laundry as you fold it. i can’t wait to enjoy your company every day one day. i know it’s a bit selfish, but i hope that things stay like this forever.

i hope that you get to read this one day, and in case i don’t tell you enough, i love you.

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #classic sans #sans x you #sap #sans headcanons

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naturesapphic · 1 year ago

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I need you

Olivia benson x fem!reader

(Warnings): hurt/comfort, mentions of murder, cussing, Olivia being a simp and a softie

“Benson.” Olivia rasped our tiredly and you smiled at the sound of her voice. “Hey liv.” You said and you heard her sigh “what’s wrong y/n?” Olivia questioned you and you knew something was wrong, you just didn’t know what. “Nothing. I’m just really hungry and was hoping on your way home you could get me a cheese burger with extra extra pickles?” You asked her and she sighed once again making you frown.

“Maybe I don’t know. I’m really busy right now hon. I’m having a tough case and we really need to catch this guy.” She said while you were trying to understand why she can’t be home right now. “Please come home liv…please I miss you so much.” You said getting choked up and she felt her heart break at the sound of your voice but she had to catch this guy.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ll check in on you later okay?” She said and you whimpered back in response and hung up causing Olivia to run her hands through her hair angrily and sigh loudly. She feels terrible. All you wanted was a cheese burger and your wife. She understood that but she needed this guy to be caught and out of the streets for everyone’s safety, especially yours.

~ a couple hours later ~

Olivia went by McDonald’s on her way home to get you your cheese burger. It was around 11 o’clock when she finally got off of work. Fin came into her office a few moments after the phone call she had with you and filled her in about how they caught the guy and he’s in the station being processed. She couldn’t be more happy and grateful that he was finally Caught. But it dawned on her how she treated you and she felt awful.

So, Before she went home with your bag of food, she decided to go to the store to get you some of your favorite flowers, chocolates, snacks, and candy. She feels awful and she wanted to make it up to you. She headed back to y’all’s house and opened the door with her keys. The jingling sound made you startled and you jumped up and got a knife from the kitchen. You slowly walked to the door and was about to attack when someone grabbed your arm and turned on the light. “Liv?! What the fuck! You scared the shit out of me!” You said breathlessly and handed her the knife. “Well at least you weren’t almost stabbed by your own wife.” She chuckled and you rolled your eyes at her with a small smile on your face.

“I thought you were supposed to call to check in on me? But seeing you is much better.” You mumbled out and she sighed. She took you into her arms carefully, trying not to hit your bump as she held you in her muscular arms. “Well…we caught the bastard and decided to get you “im sorry for being a jerk of a wife” gift.” You looked at her confused until she held up some bags filled with your favorite things and your cheese burger. You immediately snatched the McDonald’s bag from her and started eating it. “Thk y-u..” you mumbled out with your mouth filled with food. She chuckled and kissed your forehead softly. “Anytime sweetheart. Here, let’s have you sit and I’ll give you a foot massage as I tell you what happened.” She explained and you nodded. She guided you to the couch with your food in hand and she sat you down as she placed your feet in her lap. She started massaging your feet and you moaned loudly which caused her to smirk.

“Oh get that smirk off your face you horn dog.” You grumbled out and she laughed which made you smile. You continued eating as Olivia told you a brief summary about the case since she can’t share all of the details to you. She told you that this guy was killing pregnant women and how she wanted to catch this son of a bitch in case he went after you. Olivia wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you, she will protect you with her life. You finished your meal as she finished her story and you gave her a soft smile. “I wish you would have told me…I honestly thought you were being distant with me…” you confessed to her and she gave you a sad look. “No sweetheart…im so sorry that I made you feel like that…I just really wanted to catch this bastard and I wanted him off the streets as soon as possible.” She explained to you and you leaned up to her and kissed her softly on her lips.

She kissed you back gently and held your face in her hands. The both of you pulled back and gave each other big smiles. “So…what else did you get me to eat.” You smirked and she laughed. “I got you your favorite chocolates, snacks, and candy.” She replied and you gasped excitedly making grabby hands at the bags on the floor near Olivia. She chuckled as she handed you the bags and you stared munching on them while Olivia watched you with a adoring look on her face. “Do you forgive me babygirl?” She asked you and you smiled at her. “Of course I do silly. I couldn’t stay mad at you. You were just doing your job I know that. I was just a little insecure I guess.” You said and she gave your forehead another kiss “I understand baby…but just know that I don’t distance myself from you on purpose. I just get so caught up in my work that sometimes Im distant. But just know that I love you so much darling.” She explained to you and you gave her a loving smile.

“I love you most liv.” “And I love you too little bean-son.” She joked and you giggled at the nickname she kept calling y’all’s unborn child. You felt the baby kick in response and you quickly laid Olivia’s hand on your bump and the baby kicked again which made Olivia break out a huge smile. She leaned down and gave your bump a gentle kiss. Olivia started talking to the baby as you ran your fingers through her short hair and she kept giving your stomach loving kisses.

A/n: my first Olivia benson imagine! I hope y’all enjoy and know that winter/Christmas requests are open for all the people that I write! Remember to stay hydrated and rest! I love y’all! :)

#olivia benson x fem!reader #olivia benson x you #olivia benson fluff #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson headcanon #olivia benson one shot #olivia benson #olivia benson x pregnant!fem!reader #mariska hartigay #mariska hargitay imagine #mariska hargitay x reader #mariska hargitay #law and order fanfiction #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu

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lynzishell · 1 month ago

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The Past 💛 Atlas

I was over an hour late for the gym tonight, spending the better part of the day in bed staring at the ceiling, and occasionally typing out an apology text to Ash that I would immediately delete.

I had hoped that everyone else would be gone by the time I arrived, but Dawn and Phoenix were still lingering by the climbing machines when I walked in, so I tried (and failed) to avoid them by sneaking up the stairs to the treadmills. Dawn caught up with me before I even reached the first step and knew immediately something was wrong. She insisted on waiting around for me so we could walk home together.

I was annoyed at first, wanting to be alone, but by the time we’re throwing on our sweaters and beanies, I’m glad. Afterall, I’m getting nowhere on my own, just spinning myself in circles. Talking to Dawn is one of those things I avoid until I can’t, and then always wish I’d done sooner.

“So, what’s wrong?” Dawn asks as soon as we step outside. It’s dark out, making it feel much later than it is, and I can already feel the weight of the season settling in. Winter is always the hardest for me, and Spring is still so far away.

I’m not sure where to start so I just blurt out, “I screwed things up with Asher yesterday.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently, he’s tired of my mixed signals.”

“Have you been giving mixed signals?”

I give her a guilty look as I nod solemnly.

“What haven’t you told me?”

Everything. But it’s too much to get into, and the details aren’t important, and she knows me well enough that I'm sure she can fill in the blanks, so I tell her, “It doesn’t matter,” to which she gives me an annoyed look but let's me continue, “But he got pissed and stormed out. I can’t blame him. I don’t know what my problem is.”

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Please.”

“Have you ever heard the quote, ‘A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it’?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I get that you’re tired of losing people. And I know that causes you to keep most people at arm’s length. It may feel like you’re protecting yourself, but you’re not. You will continue to lose people if you keep pushing them away.”

“Maybe. But it will hurt less if they leave without getting too close.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Do I?” It feels true.

“Did it hurt when Asher stormed out yesterday?”

Point taken. “Like I was being ripped apart.”

“So, why are pushing him away? You’re only causing the pain you’re trying to avoid.”

“I don’t want to. Not anymore. But it’s like, I don’t know how not to. I can’t explain it. Just, the idea of taking that step, I feel like it won’t take long for him to see that I’m not who he thinks I am, that he’ll realize I’m not someone he can…” My voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Love?”

The mere mention of the word causes my chest to tighten. I feel my mind wanting to shrug off the very idea of it. So impossible that I feel silly even considering it.

“Oh Atlas. It’s not true,” she insists. “That was the kind of shit mom and dad put in our heads. And I get it, I felt like that too for a long time. I just handled it differently. I chased love as if someone else could come in and take that feeling away. But that just made me toxic and clingy and insufferable. It was my own version of pushing people away. And every time they left it felt like proof that I was right, that I wasn’t worth loving. But it wasn’t true, was it?”

“No.”

“It’s not true for you either.”

I understand what she’s saying, and logically I know she’s right, but there’s a part of me deep down that rejects it.

When I try to continue walking, she stops me, placing a hand over my heart, “I love you, Atlas. And not just because you’re my brother. Because you are caring and kind and gentle and loyal and supportive and I could go on forever. Not only are you worthy of love, but it is impossible not to love you.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and I can tell from the look on her face that she’s sincere. “Thank you.” I reach out and give her the biggest hug I ever have. She’s surprised at first, but hugs me back, squeezing me tight. I don't think either of us realized how much I needed to hear those words. We don't say them often, it doesn't come naturally to either of us, it's usually just implied in the ways we support each other, but maybe we should be saying the words more often. "I love you too."

“So, what am I supposed to do?” I ask as we step apart and start walking again.

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.”

“Then go talk to him. And be honest.”

“What if it’s too late?”

“Then I’ll be here for you. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Prev // Deja vu // Next

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt4 #past #atlas stephens #dawn stephens

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messyhairedhazeleyeddude · 11 months ago

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Detriment | Jujutsu Kaisen

A Yuji Itadori / Sukuna x Fem!Reader | ANGST + SMUT

Contents ; Angst, violence, sadism, slight non-con, gore details, voyeurism, and humiliation.

Dynamic ; Soft Dom!Itadori | Hard Dom!Sukuna | Sub!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; Third

Pronouns used ; She/Her

Age Range ; 18+ | College Years

(Wow! What a great way to start this off, huh? Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Grab some snacks if you want and curl up into whatever blanket you got. Listen to some music too, here’s something I recommend as always.)

━ ━°⌜ 始まり ⌟°━ ━ | Translation : The Beginning |

Sorcerors barely have time for love. That was agreed upon everyone who lived in the profession. No one among Jujutsu High could go for a relationship grander than a simple fling or a couple of flirtatious exchanges with someone outside the school.

If they did marry eventually, the couple wouldn’t go without a very rocky path ahead of them. Either one would die in battle and the other would follow suit in depression or it would turn for the worse in causing the pair to resent each other. Barely anything in between.

Succession only came with retiring from sorcery which rarely happened. It was too dangerous to leave the life behind. And for Yuji Itadori, he was trapped there until his life ended. So, with all of that that in mind, why was she on a date?

He was staring at the girl he had a crush on for almost the entire semester leaning her head on the shoulder of Toge Inumaki, sleeping soundly as he patted her. Grief writhed itself in his expression and a couple of tears began to brim the corners of his eyes.

The defeated boy turned around from the sight and laid his forehead on both of his arms, trying to wipe away his heartbreak. While both of his peers, Nobara and Megumi tried their best to rush over to him to spout nonsensical comfort. He was just running away from them not too long ago. The two were acting weird and awkward, hushing things to each other.

When he found out that it was about (Y/N) from the small whisper of her name, he bugged them over and over to let him in on the gossip. Eventually, he gave up and went to find out for himself. He wished he never heard a single murmur now.

Before Itadori knew it, he was full blown sobbing against the brick staircase. He knew he shouldn’t feel this terrible about something that was destined to never happen in the first place. Although, that didn’t change anything on what he felt. Even as both of his classmates watched him have the breakdown. Nothing stopped the rage from coming to him.

Hyperventilating, Yuji stood back onto both feet, mumbling to himself while his reality was shifting into different colors. Something was wrong. He noticed what he was feeling instantly. But, that couldn’t be right. Sukuna had no reason to come out. Why would he waste his time on this?

The loss of control on his emotions gave him a huge disadvantage when trying to hold back the king of curses. It felt like his limbs were being crushed as he fought him. Worst thing about it wasn’t the pain though, it was the fact he could hear him.

“You’re really going to let a man that can’t even speak get her like that, huh?” Sukuna bellowed out in his head, “How pathetic!” So that was it. He was here to taunt him.

If Itadori could, he would beat into his skull all of the anger that was running through his veins currently. But, he was no match for him. He understood that as soon as his body felt numb and all he could do was watch him take over. Once again.

A smirk appeared over the huge frown that was there a second ago, markings appearing and disappearing to signify who was truly present. Both Megumi and Nobara jumped back with their bodies positioned in a fighting stance, bringing out their closest weapons to point them at Sukuna.

They both had a terrified look to their eyes, focused on keeping a safe distance, and guarded for anything that he tried. Although, they also knew that it wouldn’t do to stop him and they’d probably die any minute.

Sweat dripped down from Megumi’s forehead as he shouted at the evil curse, “Sukuna! Return Itadori or else!” He summoned his demon dogs who immediately went to lowering themselves and approaching him slowly. A part of him was worried it was the end already, but he could tell that Sukuna still didn’t have his full potential. He was weak.

Nobara wanted to add in her own demands too, “We aren’t afraid to pummel ourselves into the ground with you until you do.” Even though it was shaky, she held up three nails in each of her fingers, auras of cursed energy embedded in every single one. Her eyes gave off a bit of a crazier look while she grinned back at him.

It was right there that the demon himself clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times at them, “Tch, tch, tch…” The red flared in his orbs while his sharp teeth brimmed his bottom lip, letting them soak in his frightening presence.

As much as he wanted to kill them, Itadori was fighting hard on the inside, and he didn’t have enough time before Satoru would show up. That meeting had to wait. So, he decided he would ‘clear the air’ and that was through forcefully grabbing Nobara by the neck; lifting her up while disabling her nails and hammer by using his ability, ‘Dismantle’.

He dug his fingernails into her neck, causing her to grab at his wrist, struggling to breath. Megumi unleashed the demon dogs, the shikigami’s rushing to his legs and opening their jaws to bite. But they didn’t get to latch their teeth in as they were cut into a million pieces in an instant.

Closing his eyes, Sukuna took in a deep inhale and sighed out in satisfaction, “I can smell her. That raw power. No wonder this kid is drawn.” His smirk widened and he cracked his neck, throwing Nobara to the side, and causing her to slide on the concrete before hitting her back on a stone wall.

Megumi yelled out her name, rushing over to her side while Sukuna began walking towards the direction of (Y/N), his hands shoving themselves into his pockets. He continued, “I’m here to give him a hand… And take something that was meant to be mine.” The excitement in his voice never wavered. It increased.

All at once, Megumi threw the rest of his shikigami’s toward him, but none were able to get past his attacks. Every time, they were slashed into tiny pieces and a puddle of blood and guts. The black-haired boy fell to his knees next to Nobara, picking her up in his arms and checking to see if she was okay.

Nothing else stopped him from approaching the girl anymore. Instead, he got to her. Inumaki tried to say something before he could reach them, but it was too late because by the time he opened his mouth, Sukuna opened his domain.

“Domain Expansion. Malevolent Shrine.”

Everything was shrouded in black. Then the piles of bones surrounded him, leaving him on top of the throne of the fossils left behind from his victims, sitting like he was a king. He was, in terms.

(Y/N) stared up at Sukuna with terror in her expression, stumbling backwards until she fell onto her knees. “No… No… What’s going on?” she looked down at her palms shaking, her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to level herself.

That didn’t work. She was left freaking out. Who wouldn’t be? This was guaranteed death. She was facing her end. And it was all because she was too weak. There was no way she would come out of this. She was facing the top of the food chain in regards to power. But, why?

“You have something of mine,” as if answering her question, he declared that out loud. His fingers pressing into the side of his forehead as he observed her with amusement. The robes he was wearing shifted when he began to stand, scaling down the mountain using all the skulls as stairs.

(Y/N) knew what he was talking about once he said it, putting her right hand over her left to cover the finger she kept. They had stitched it onto her body a long time ago. It was cruel attempt at keeping it safe. But, it worked. Until now.

He chuckled, “You can’t seriously be wanting to keep that thing on you forever, (Y/N)?” Using the last bits of bones to dismount off of the pile onto the ground. He was leveled with her. Sukuna was in front of her.

She heard of him millions of times, especially since she was the keeper of one of his fingers, but she always liked to think of it as some stupid horror story. Forgetting how real it was made this ten times harder for her to swallow. It was worse when she became friends with Itadori considering how sweet he was. The growing crush on him was beyond terrifying. Exactly for this reason. Wait, what was the reason for him being here?

He knelt down, gripping her chin with two fingers, his sharp nails poking underneath her jaw while tilting her head to make her look him in the eyes. Glaring down at her with that same crooked smile, he muttered out a question, “You like having my power, hm?”

The panicking girl didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t have one, really. It was a yes, possibly. But, at the same time, she knew who it came from. And seeing him here didn’t convince her to want it anymore. He couldn’t have it though. No way in hell was she going to hand it over.

Sukuna seemed to pick up on this because he started to gradually laugh louder and louder, his eyes widening along with the the second pair on his cheeks. (Y/N) watched him, paralyzed out of fear, and shook when he cackled out, “You know what?! I’m feeling in a generous mood today! Itadori, you watching this?”

It looked like he was shouting at no one. But, she knew that the original boy that she was friends with was witnessing everything and that made her sick to her stomach. Sick at what this monster could do to him.

Then without hesitation, as if he got his answer, her hand was raised into the air and she wasn’t able to pull it away. Sukuna bit off the entire tip of the finger that was already connected to her nerves, making her scream at the top of her lungs, and writhe in agony.

He swallowed the chunk and slammed a palm onto her head, pushing her down into the concrete of his domain as it felt like knives sliced across her thighs and arms. “What were you doing with Inumaki?” his voiced lowered while asking.

That was confusing more than anything to hear. Why would he ask that? Why was he concerned about that? So many questions flew through her head but she had to respond, his impatience was obviously short from how hard he was gripping her. She choked on her sentence, managing to piece it together, “He was teaching me how to control cursed energy better. I passed out from trying too hard…”

A hum vibrated out of his throat, his hand no longer crushing her head in while he laughed manically for another moment. “Ohoho, that’s gotta be the best thing I’ve heard all my years alive! And to think, the kid was so worried about you, he was breaking his own soul!”

Whatever Sukuna was talking about, it was hard for her to understand. Hell, she couldn’t make sense of it even after he had that fit with himself. Instead, she was left to deal with the confusion as the cursed man moved forward with what else he had planned.

Each piece of her clothing was cut off of her, shredded onto the floor, and leaving (Y/N) naked. She couldn’t even feel it happening. It was the cold that made her get what he was doing.

But, there was nothing for her to attempt. She would die if she refused. And what he said, it was right. He was feeling in a good mood if this is what he was deciding to do to her. She’s heard of the torture he’s committed, the massacres, what he was doing was simply nothing compared to the rest. And Itadori. If he was witnessing her being raped and it was by his body, it would be horrible for him after it’s over.

(Y/N) had to save Yuji. So, as Sukuna dug his nails into her hips and stripped his robes off, she let out one last request, “Can it please be Itadori first if you’re going to do this? Please…” He stopped what he was doing automatically.

The King of Curses ended up thinking about it despite the brutal urge he had to destroy them mentally, hearing the shocked voice of the trapped boy wondering what she just suggested.

He had to admit. It was amusing to see the guy in such a state. Snickering, he obliged and said his last words before letting him take back control, “For now, I will. This comes with a price. I hope you know that, (Y/N)”

Itadori gasped when he slipped back into his own body, looking down at her and coming face-to-face with his naked crush’s back. A huge blush swept across his cheeks and he stuttered in surprise and panic, “He let me? H-He hurt… He killed Megumi’s shikigami’s… He.. did this to you.. I did this. I let him. I wasn’t-“

Before he could spiral further, she reached up to him and turned to face toward his chest, pressing her lips on his. He needed to stop thinking if he was going to succeed. She couldn’t afford much more time with him, they were on a limit.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and she parted from him to encourage, “Do it. Just fuck me, Itadori. Don’t think about anything. I want you to be the one, not him.” That was enough for him to listen.

Positioning himself awkwardly, he pressed against her folds to prepare her and himself. There was so much to worry about and so much for him to do. But, here he was, having sex with the one girl he’d been fantasizing about for weeks. Yeah, it was great having her like this. What about Inumaki? Everyone? What could he do?

Itadori finally got to pushing himself inside, his pupils wide, and his jaw hanging open as he panted out a couple of noises. It was the best feeling he’s ever had. Warm and fit perfectly around him. Just like he thought it would. But better.

He criticized himself in his thoughts, ‘You shouldn’t be enjoying this.’ He tried to put himself down over and over. But, it was ignored by a thrust. And then another. And another. Until he was at a pace that made both of them stuck in the act. Her hands wrapped around his neck, matching her legs as she gave up.

Her body felt like it was going limp, loosely hanging on as her (E/C) eyes were looking up at him in a daze. The aggression in him instinctively increased and before he processed what he was doing, he was pouring every emotion he had into ramming her. She stuttered out moans from the impact each time, her nails finding themselves latching into his back, and clawing down slowly; blood trailing right behind.

There was twinges of pain because of how careless he was becoming and that rage seemed to only be getting worse. She summed it up to him venting out what he could considering they were both in an impossible situation. But, when he leaned forward to the crook of her neck, she heard the rasp of the voice she was dreading to hear, “Time’s up.”

Once they switched, (Y/N) noticed the difference immediately between the two of them. His hand shot to her neck and he dragged his black nails against it, teasing her by softly squeezing at first. Even though that squeeze was still tight enough to make her choke.

Sukuna used his teeth to rip into her shoulder, biting deep into her skin until blood was rushing down the crevices of her chest. She let out a piercing scream that started to crack underneath the pressure of his palm.

He was ruthless. There was no time to adjust to the strength he exerted, only time to cry. She couldn’t see what he was doing to her, but she felt it. And it was so intense that her legs went numb. The sounds of his hips colliding with hers was a loud and sharp slap. Red marks were left on the inner corners of her thighs and exactly where he was aiming all of his force.

When he pulled away from attacking her left side, half of it was covered in a sea of red, all from the amount of times he had sunk his canines in. Pleasure tried to ease the ache for you, it never succeeded because of his cruel treatment.

Any time she moaned, another slice from his technique would cut at her body. And despite her losing so much blood, she was still awake. Hanging on by a thread. That thread being Itadori. She could see a mix of displeasure, sadness, anger, satisfaction, and pure insanity all within the red eyes that took place over his honey brown ones. She really missed that color.

Her eyes were starting to close no matter what after a couple of minutes trying to fight the response to his abuse. But, before they shut, a sound of multiple footsteps stumbling in the domain made her snap her head toward them.

Inumaki, Nobara, and Megumi were looking back at her in devastation. Her pupils shrunk, eyes went wide, and she shrieked out to them, “NO! GET OUT-“

Not even a second thought to it, (Y/N) released her technique, ‘Barrier’, and both Nobara and Inumaki were protected from Sukuna. Except for Megumi. She didn’t have enough in her. He instantly got slashed across the chest, staining his navy black uniform with red, and causing him to fall back.

Megumi Fushiguro was the first put in critical condition.

The skewered girl cried as she was picked up by her hair off of the ground and slammed onto a manifested desk of what resembled flesh. She was stuck staring at her two classmates, exposed and defiled.

Nobara shouted at the top of her lungs, “You sick evil bastard! Let go of her or I’ll shove nails into-” She couldn’t finish before she was incapacitated by his technique. The worst cut being the one on her arm, almost severing it in half and leaving her to grab at it to make sure it didn’t.

Nobara Kugisaki was the second.

(Y/N) tried to plead at Sukuna, hoping that anything she said would convince him to stop, “YOU CAN HAVE ME! NOT THEM! DON’T KILL THEM! PLEASE!”

His narrow sadistic eyes flickered from Inumaki to her back, swiping a tongue across his lips as he chuckled darkly, “What? You want me to save your little boyfriend?” By the sound of that, it was like he was jealous. But, what she was hearing wasn’t correct. She had no relationship with Inumaki and how was he jealous?

Using that, she corrected him, deciding that sparing time with conversation was the route to go, “I have no feelings for Toge… Why are you suggesting it?” Grunts spilled in the middle of her sentence but she was heard.

And he answered with a bloodthirsty grin, “Word got around. Being cuddled up next to someone in broad daylight isn’t friendly, is it?” It was hard to respond with him continuing to fuck her, especially when it was directly in front of Inumaki and Nobara. The shame she was experiencing was like no other and she could no longer look up at their faces.

So, she ended up sobbing by the time she could let it out, “That wasn’t! Anything! I just fell asleep! I JUST FELL ASLEEP!” Her cries grew louder and more desperate, the cursed speech user feeling the exact same way as he ran for them. He couldn’t just watch her die like this. He couldn’t.

Pulling down the neck cover he had, (Y/N) shook her head at the sight of Toge and panicked. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t shut her eyes and watched the white-haired boy shout out a command, “ESCAPE!”

Instantly, she was lifted from Sukuna’s grasp into the air by an invisible force, looking down in surprise at Megumi and Nobara following with. She wished she hadn’t though as she witnessed Inumaki sputtering out blood and collapsing to the ground, limp. That terrible grin never left his face as he glanced up at them being sent out of his domain, winking at (Y/N) like he was telling her, ‘See you later.’

Toge Inumaki was the last.

When everyone made it outside and onto the grass, all of the Jujutsu Sorceror’s were working on getting Sukuna under control again. Gojo being the one to relocate the students to aid while forcing his way into the domain that vanished seconds later.

She won’t ever forget the look on Itadori’s face, covered in her blood, and the disgust in his eyes the moment he locked them with hers. His hands were resting on his lap in front of him and thankfully, his clothes were back to the way they should be. But, it was like the spark in his soul faded. She understood that what Sukuna had planned, worked. From then on, they both were never going to forget what happened.

Yuji Itadori will cease all contact with (Y/N) (L/N).

#Spotify #yuji itadori x reader #sukuna x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori smut #sukuna smut #smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #angst #yuji itadori angst

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perfectlyoongi · 3 months ago

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ROOMMATE!JIN who went to your room just to recite some poem in the most dramatic way. there were several times when Jin would suddenly open the door to your room and start talking — no — star shouting a poem he had found on the internet. with overly flamboyant hand gestures and ever-rising and falling tone of voice, Jin brought the poems to life in the most eccentric way he could. poems of love, of loss, of oranges, no matter what soul the poem had, the truth is that Jin would always represent all its words. ending without waiting for your applause, Jin bowed and left your room without saying a word, always leaving you with a smile on your lips that lasted the rest of the day. “oh cruel fate that took you from me, but brought me to… no, wait, i was wrong. fate… brought… oh, okay, i know. let’s go from the top.”

ROOMMATE!JIN who has a color system on his bedroom door. yellow socks: Jin was sleeping in just his boxers. red sock: Jin was taking a nap. blue sock: Jin was playing. purple sock: Jin was working. white sock: you could go into Jin’s room. the list continued through so many colors and prints that you had to beg Jin to put the caption on his bedroom door. it was a small system that Jin created when the two of you first met; he was too shy to explain that there were times when he needed silence; so, Jin started wearing his different socks to show you his availability, becoming a constant detail in your home. “i already updated the caption so you don’t wake me up again. pay attention that you have blue and blue with blue. they are two different socks, okay?”

ROOMMATE!JIN who gets ready to sleep with you every night. when you decided that you had already lived all day, you would go to Jin’s room, knocking on the door three times and then walking to the bathroom. in no time, Jin was at your side, with a towel on his head, ready to wash his face and teeth in your company. you and Jin would decompress together at the end of the day, finding between the soap and toothpaste a complicity that grew with each of your rituals. exchanging plans for the next day and stories that happened that day, you and Jin were getting ready in an instant to go to bed, leaving the bathroom at the same time, saying goodbye with a small wink and a see you tomorrow. “i thought you had already forgotten me. today is late. is everything fine? did something happen?”

ROOMMATE!JIN who lights a candle whenever you have an important day. a meeting, an exam, a doctor’s appointment, it didn’t matter what was going to happen; if you had an important day for you that has been making you anxious since the beginning of the week, Jin would light a small green candle to wish you good luck. whether it was cold or very hot, Jin would go to his window sill, light the candle and say a few words in the hope of catching the attention of whatever god is in charge of protecting you. “may you be safe this day. your exam will be successful and you will not have any problems with your car inspection. today everything will be fine. today the world is on your side.”

ROOMMATE!JIN who bakes cakes with you where one of you can’t see and the other can’t talk. it was a disaster. a complete disaster. but oh, how fun it was. at the end of each attempt, you and Jin spent more time tidying up the kitchen than cooking itself, but that didn’t make any impression on you. for long minutes, you and Jin only knew how to communicate through shouts, gestures and laughter and there was no better moment in your lives than cooking together. the cake could often turn out bad, burning from time to time, not rising almost every time, but it wasn’t for the cake that you did that challenge. all you and Jin wanted was a moment of your own that couldn’t be stolen by the world — for small minutes, you and Jin were happy. “this time it’s you who doesn’t see and you will understand what i suffered last time. i’ll let you know that i’m not going to tell you whether you chose flour or sugar. good luck trying to do something decent.”

ROOMMATE!JIN who sits on the floor of your room whenever he’s bored. for a man who wanted so much and did so much, being bored was dangerous for Jin. seeing the minutes passing without having any activity to do drove Jin crazy. so when these more monotonous moments started to afflict him, Jin just went to your room and sat on the floor sometimes next to your bed, sometimes next to your desk, it all depended on where you were. and for a long time, until Jin found something to do, he would sit there, watching you work or listening to your stories. you were already used to this peculiarity of Jin, so much so that whenever you saw him sitting next to you, it was your habit to take your hand to his head and start playing with his hair. they were calm moments, something that both you and Jin cherished, especially in that house of yours that seemed to attract chaos. “the day seems so long… tell me a story. make me forget the monotony of living.”

ROOMMATE!JIN who declares himself to you when you were putting down the halloween decorations. another holiday spent, another few laughs exchanged, another story shared. when Jin held the box and followed you around the house taking out the various bats and ghosts, something took over him. for some reason, in that banality, Jin had a suffocating need to declare himself to you. could it be the spirits of the stars that placed a curse on Jin? or did Jin simply see the trigger of his heart in your smile? Jin never received an answer. he just spoke. at that moment, as equal as any other, Jin declared himself to you. “we’ve lived together long enough for me to know that you’re someone i always want in my life. because i like you, you know? i really like you.”

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lividstar · 28 days ago

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ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Eleven: You Wonder why I’m Bitter

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 8.2k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Alone and aching for the connection that once felt so natural, you reluctantly turn to an unlikely companion: Pompidou, who listens to you pour out all the longing you’ve fought so hard to bury. While you grapple with the emptiness left by Hongjoong’s sudden withdrawal, he, too, finds himself lost, wrestling with the very feelings he’s tried to deny. Haunted by memories and choices he can’t quite reconcile, Hongjoong is caught between the familiarity of the past and the confusing reality of the present.

a/n: was supposed to upload this on the 27th cause that’s my birthday but i just can’t wait any longer 😅 keep an eye out for the littlest of details because nothing is as it seems in this chapter :P lmk what you guys think!

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl

First of all, I hate myself. Second of all, I hate myself. Oh, and did I already mention that I hate myself? I just don’t know what to do anymore! It feels like it’s been a whole decade ever since I last picked up a pen to scribble on this godforsaken journal… I wish I could just go back to the time I was writing the page behind the one I’m writing on right now and just cancel my flight to Paris. This is all so frustrating, you know? Fashion Week is nearing, and I am not prepared at all—no, not even a little. I’m supposed to be spending my hours inside the studio practicing runway walks and testing out facial expressions, but no! I’m way too afraid of crossing paths with Hongjoong to even think about the consequences of not taking my preparations seriously! And speaking of Hongjoong…

He’s driving me to the edge of my sanity. I don’t know what’s going on with him—okay, scratch that, I definitely do. I just don’t get why he’s acting so avoidant all of a sudden… I mean, like, okay, I would understand his unprovoked need for distance between us if we actually kissed that night, but we didn’t. The farthest step we were able to take was just him holding onto the sides of my face and me looking at his lips like I’m a starved dog looking at its first meal of the day before Wooyoung fortunately interrupted us—so why is he acting up?

He’s like one of those girls you’d befriend in highschool who’d show up on the hallways suddenly judging your entire soul on a random Wednesday, and I don’t like it. Seriously, what’s his problem? He made me accustomed to his usual sweet and caring persona, and all of a sudden, he wants to act like this? What have I done wrong? Wasn’t it literally him who initiated the… whatever I’m supposed to call what happened that night?

I’m just concerned, you know. It’s been two weeks, and yet he’s still avoiding me like I’m the plague. I haven’t been receiving any messages from him at all lately, either. Even Madame Dupont is asking me why she no longer sees the “small young handsome boy” waiting for me outside the apartment building while leaning against his car. Wooyoung’s been trying to persuade me into confirming his theory that Hongjoong and I are going through a lovers’ quarrel for three days now, too. And guess who’s the most troubled of them all? Seonghwa. He’s been doing his best to put us back into speaking terms for a while now, and I don’t know why—I swear I didn’t ask him to do that.

Everyone is worried. Everyone but him.

You know, this brings me back to that unrecognizable faceless guy I see in some of my blurry flashbacks. I remember him asking me how long I’ve been bottling up my emotions, and when I told him I’ve been doing so for pretty much my entire life, he told me to consider writing in a journal.

What does the unrecognizable dude have to do with Hongjoong and his unreadable behavior? Nothing.

I just noticed that it’s been a while since I last wrote a journal entry, and… it’s been a while since I last let my emotions unravel. I remember the words that came out of his mouth that day.

“When you can’t figure out what you’re feeling, or if you need to let it all out, the only thing you have to do is pull this out along with a pen, and from then on, you can start writing away. Let yourself get lost in your own world.”

You know what, in a way, I think he and Hongjoong actually have something in common. I know I can’t say much because I only have one memory of this guy, but he spoke with as much wisdom as Hongjoong does. Also… “let yourself get lost in your own world.” That’s honestly the most Hongjoong-ish advice someone could ever give, given how he himself gets lost in his own world of artistry, too.

I just wish he’d stop ignoring me. I can’t help but feel like this is all somehow my fault… Am I just hurting myself by expecting things to suddenly go back to the way they used to be?

As you closed your journal with a weary sigh, your eyes drifted to the dim glow of your bedside clock reading 2:37 a.m. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of distant traffic, yet you felt far from at peace. It was a night for sleep, yet your mind wouldn’t quiet; thoughts of Hongjoong twisted and turned within you, refusing to settle.

“Why does it feel like this?” you murmured, pressing your palms into your face, as if that could somehow soothe the ache in your chest. You longed for comfort, for answers, even for a brief respite from the confusion that had become your constant companion. “If only that faceless guy could telepathically whisper some words of wisdom to me right now…”

Two weeks had passed since you last shared any words with Hongjoong—two weeks where every glance, every passing moment, felt laced with an unspoken tension that only deepened the rift between you. It was all becoming painfully real, the shift so clear to everyone around you. But no one knew the truth—the moment you almost kissed, the silent proximity that had left you dizzy and wondering. Even Seonghwa, in his genuine concern, couldn’t know the pang of vulnerability that had filled that night, the fear and excitement mingling as you’d come closer than ever before.

Your mind flashed back to the other day when the ache of his absence had been sharpest. You passed by him in a hallway, hoping for a flicker of his usual warmth, his soft gaze that once reassured you of your place in his world. But he’d brushed past with such indifference—not even nodding to acknowledge your presence, a chill in his demeanor that left you hollow. And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you alone with a rising sense of loss.

Without thinking, you picked up your phone and opened your gallery. Photos of Hongjoong filled your screen, and your eyes drift over candid snapshots—some of you and Hongjoong working late in the studio, others of him laughing or looking thoughtful, moments caught by your camera that now feel like glimpses into another lifetime. There’s a picture of him outside your apartment building, waving you goodbye one evening. Another shot of him hunched over his desk in concentration, unaware that you’d snapped the photo from across the room. Then, there’s a particularly precious one of the two of you, taken in his office—which was likely Wooyoung’s doing.

As you scroll, an ache blossoms within you, spreading in slow, insistent waves that make your chest feel tight. You can feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, and it catches you off guard. Why now? Why does he, of all people, have this power over you? You swipe at the tears, frustrated by the sudden swell of emotion. It’s not supposed to be like this, you tell yourself. Hongjoong is supposed to be your friend, your mentor, the one person in Paris who helped you find your footing when everything felt foreign. But as the images blur beneath the glisten of unshed tears, you can’t help but wonder if that’s all he’ll ever be—someone whose warmth once felt like home, and whose absence now feels like a loss you’re not ready to face.

The soft scratching at your window pulls you abruptly from your thoughts. For a moment, you freeze, glancing back at the phone you’d just placed on your desk. Carefully, you grab your journal—a flimsy defense, maybe, but it’s better than nothing. Heart pounding just slightly, you step forward, inching closer to the window.

When you peek over, you’re met with a familiar sight: Pompidou, the resident stray cat who had made the apartment building his kingdom, sits with one paw pressed to the glass, his usual unamused expression aimed your way.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders as you let out a soft laugh. Setting your journal on the bed, you reach over to open the window, letting him slip inside with practiced ease. He slinks past you with the air of someone who owns the place and makes himself right at home, hopping onto your bed and circling until he’s claimed his spot in the center.

You sit beside him, running a gentle hand over his soft fur. It’s strange how much you missed him. For the past few weeks, your room felt emptier without his occasional visits—without that extra little creature who just… understood you, in a way. And now, with Hongjoong’s absence haunting you, Pompidou couldn’t have come at a better time.

The thought hits you harder than you expect: here you are, at your lowest, relying on a cat for comfort simply because the one person you’re used to confiding in has become distant, almost like a stranger. The ache in your chest intensifies, and before you know it, you’re lying down next to him, resting your head on the bed and gazing at his calm, indifferent eyes. It feels silly, pathetic even, to be speaking your heart to a cat, but in this silence, with no one else to turn to, you let yourself unravel.

“Pompidou,” you whisper, voice barely holding steady, “I… I don’t know what I did wrong. Everything was fine, wasn’t it?” Your fingers tremble as they thread through his fur, a warmth grounding you in the midst of your unraveling. “I don’t know how we ended up here. He’s always been there for me, and now… it’s like he’s vanished. And I’m trying, I really am, but every time I reach out, it’s like he’s miles away.”

A sharp breath catches in your throat, and you look up at the ceiling, fighting against the tears stinging your eyes. “It’s probably all my fault,” you confess in a whisper that breaks. “Maybe I was too much, or maybe I should have… I don’t know, said something differently, done something better. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him to eat dinner that night so that…” A bitter chuckle slips out as you squeeze your eyes shut. “It’s funny, you know. All my life, I’ve been terrified of being alone, of people walking out… and now here I am, trying to be okay with him pulling away like it’s nothing.”

Pompidou shifts slightly, his warm body pressing into your side, a small reminder that he’s there, and he’s not leaving. You let your hand drop to your chest, feeling the dull ache that’s settled there. “I just miss him, Pompidou. I miss the way he used to look at me like I mattered. Now, he can’t even look me in the eyes. And I don’t know why I’m clinging to that, why I’m hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and go back to being who he was.”

The silence swallows you for a moment. “Maybe it’s because, deep down, I’m still the same pathetic teenager from Arcadia Bay who’s scared that she doesn’t deserve anything better. That she’s always going to be left behind, and this… this is just proof.” Your voice falters, words thick with pain you can no longer hold back. “And if he leaves, then maybe it’s what I deserve.”

“Maybe I was the one who left him in an alternate reality, and this is the price I have to pay for it,” you joke, but it only feels like a pathetic attempt to make yourself feel better.

The pain is so sharp it almost feels physical, a hollow ache that makes every breath feel heavier than the last. You close your eyes, fighting against the helplessness clawing at your insides, but the words keep pouring out, jagged and raw, as though voicing them might lessen the weight—even if it’s only to a cat who can’t respond.

“Do you know what’s worse?” you whisper, fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt over your chest as if you could hold yourself together by sheer will. “It’s that I can’t even be mad at him. I want to be—believe me, I’ve tried. I tell myself he’s the one pulling away, that he’s the one who’s changed, but then I start wondering… what if I pushed him to this? What if I’m the reason he’s slipping through my fingers?”

A soft tremor runs through your hands, and you curl them into fists, teeth gritted as you force the tears back. “I keep thinking… maybe he’s right to distance himself. Maybe there’s something broken in me, something that just drives people away. And the worst part is, I keep wishing he’d come back, like I’d somehow be enough if I could just—”

Your voice catches, breaking into a whisper as you bury your face in your hands, barely holding in the sob that threatens to spill out. “I just don’t understand. He was my safe place, Pompidou. For the first time in so long, I actually felt like I mattered. He made me feel seen. And now… now I feel invisible all over again, like everything we shared was just temporary, like it didn’t mean anything.”

Pompidou shifts closer, his soft purr rumbling beneath your fingertips as you stroke his fur, a small solace in the middle of this storm.

“I try to convince myself that I’m fine, that I can go on without him,” you continue, voice cracking as the words spill out unchecked. “But the truth is, I’m terrified. I’m scared that if he leaves… if he’s really gone, I’ll be alone again, just like before. And I hate myself for feeling this way, for being so… so weak.”

The tears finally break free, slipping down your cheeks in a silent flood. “What does that say about me? That I’m so dependent on him, that I can’t even imagine my life without him? I thought I was stronger than this, that I’d learned how to stand on my own. But now… now it’s like I’m right back to that scared, lonely kid I used to be, clinging to anyone who shows me a hint of kindness.”

You pull your knees to your chest, holding yourself as tightly as you can, as if you could somehow shield yourself from the emptiness swallowing you whole. “I can’t stop thinking that maybe this is all I deserve. That maybe I’m meant to be alone. Maybe he’s finally seeing me for who I am, and he’s realizing I’m not worth it.”

Your shoulders shake as the sobs escape, quiet and raw, each one cutting through you like glass. Pompidou curls closer, his little face pressing against your arm, as though he understands in his own way. But his silent comfort only deepens the ache, a reminder that the person you need more than anything isn’t here, and you’re left holding yourself together with nothing but frayed threads of hope.

With a shuddering breath, you finally admit the fear you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. “What if he doesn’t come back, Pompidou? What if this is it? I don’t think… I don’t think I can handle losing him. Not like this.”

Your voice drops to a whisper, the words coming slow and soft as you gaze out the window, eyes unfocused. “I just… I miss him, Pompidou,” you murmur, fingers absently tracing patterns against the sheets.

“I miss all the little things that made it feel like he was a part of me, like he was woven into my days without me even realizing it. I miss the way he’d send me random sketches, the ones that made no sense but made me laugh anyway, like he was letting me in on his little worlds. I miss… I miss how he’d always have this ridiculous drink order for me every time we’d meet up at the café where we switched up our notebooks with one another before we met for the first time. It’s like he knew exactly what I’d need, even if I didn’t.”

The memories wash over you, and you can’t stop the warmth from pooling in your chest as you picture those moments. “I wish we could go back to that time when things were… simple. When I could sit beside him without feeling like the whole world was shifting under my feet. When he’d laugh and look at me like I was… like I was something special, you know?”

Your voice trembles, and you tighten your grip on the sheets. “And the thing is… it was just easy with him. He’d be there, always making me feel like nothing could go wrong as long as we were together. He’d be there with his quiet, comforting presence, and I could just… be. I didn’t have to pretend or put on some mask. It was like he could see right through me, and somehow, he didn’t care about all the mess he found.”

You take a deep breath, the words spilling out like a plea. “I just want to go back, Pompidou. Back to before everything felt so fragile, before that almost-kiss, before this… this distance. I wish I could reach out and take it all back. I’d give anything just to have things feel normal again.”

Pompidou tilts his head, eyes blinking up at you, and you can’t help but laugh, a soft, broken sound that catches in your throat. “I know it sounds silly, doesn’t it? I mean, how could I expect anything to be the same after that? But I can’t help it, Pompidou. I want to go back to when he’d smile at me like that, when I didn’t have to wonder if I was the one pushing him away.”

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of each memory anchor you down. “I miss his laugh. I miss his stupid jokes. I miss the way he’d lean closer when he talked about his dreams, his voice getting all serious like he could see every detail in his mind. And I miss… I miss feeling like I belonged somewhere, like I belonged with him. I miss how he’d look at me with this warmth, like I was enough, just as I was.”

The words come out like a broken whisper, a confession you’ve been holding inside for far too long. “I can’t stop missing him. I wish… I wish I could go back to that last night before everything shifted. Before the night we nearly kissed, before I even realized what I felt. I wish I could’ve just stayed there, in that moment, without letting any of it change.”

You hug your knees, curling up as the ache settles deeper, heavier. “But I can’t. And now it’s as if I’m left with pieces of him in everything around me, and I don’t know how to put myself back together without him.”

You pull yourself up, exhaling slowly, and walk over to your desk. The room feels quiet, still heavy with everything you’ve let out, yet somehow emptier too, as if releasing the words has left you hollow. With a shaky hand, you pick up your phone and make your way back to bed, curling up beside Pompidou, who has already claimed his spot against your pillow. Settling into the blankets, you scroll through your contacts, your thumb hovering over Hongjoong’s icon.

It’s just his initials next to a simple photo he once sent—a candid moment he probably forgot about, something so ordinary that it’s precious now. The way he looked when he didn’t realize anyone was watching: a slight smile, eyes softened by something he found funny, maybe even a bit endearing. The sight makes your chest tighten, and you let yourself scroll up, reading through old conversations like leafing through the pages of a treasured book.

Each message brings back flashes of shared laughter and late-night ramblings, little moments where time seemed to pause, and it was just the two of you—untouchable, safe. You linger on a message he sent on a rainy afternoon, a random joke he thought would cheer you up. Your lips curl into a faint smile, but it’s bittersweet. There was a time when it was so easy, so effortless, like breathing. He had a way of knowing exactly when you needed a reminder that he was there. But now, that comfort feels distant, unreachable.

A tear slips down your cheek again before you realize it, and you hastily swipe it away, but the sorrow wells up again, slipping past your guard. As if sensing your pain, Pompidou extends a soft paw, resting it gently below your eyes, and you feel his fur against your cheek, grounding you in a way that words can’t. His small gesture tugs a quiet, breathy laugh from you, despite the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to catch your sadness, pulling it away piece by piece, his wide eyes fixed on yours with an empathy you can almost feel.

You let your head fall, hugging Pompidou close, allowing yourself to finally surrender to the pain and let it wash over you without restraint. The loneliness, the longing, the hollow spaces Hongjoong’s absence has left in you—all of it spills out as you clutch the feline tightly, letting his warmth and steady breathing lull you into a fragile sense of comfort. The room seems to blur, softening around you as the weight of everything you’ve been holding back presses into you.

The tears come faster now, unstoppable, and your quiet sobs fill the silence, raw and unfiltered. It’s just you and Pompidou, and for a moment, it feels like you’re not truly alone. There, in the quiet solace of your room, you cling to that small comfort, letting yourself feel every ounce of longing, letting yourself miss him—fully, desperately, hopelessly.

—

Meanwhile, Hongjoong stood in his office, the warm, nostalgic tones of “La Vie en Rose” playing softly from the record player behind him. His gaze fixed on the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and he fought to keep his emotions in check. Each note lingered in the air, pulling him deeper into the web of memories he was desperately trying to forget. This song, of all songs—he could still remember how it had been playing when the two of you had stood together in the flower shop, laughing over bouquets and trading light-hearted jokes as if the world beyond didn’t exist.

Part of him knew he could walk over and turn it off. The music was his to control, after all. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. The melody was the last fragile thread that kept him tethered to you, a reminder of the warmth he felt in your presence, the comfort of knowing someone understood him.

The dim light from the city outside cast a soft glow over his office, illuminating the expanse of papers scattered across his desk, the outlines of unfinished sketches and hastily scrawled notes, all reminders of the whirlwind he’d buried himself in since he started pushing you away. Each corner of the room felt saturated with memories of you—and it was strange how a space that had once felt so alive now seemed hollow, absent of the warmth you’d brought into it.

He tried to focus on the skyline again, his eyes tracing the glittering lights of the city. It was an attempt to ground himself, to pull himself back from the turmoil inside him. But tonight, every bit of stillness he attempted felt false, every piece of composure barely hanging by a thread. All he could think about was you—the absence of your presence filling every empty space in his mind, as if refusing to be silenced.

He turned slowly from the window, allowing his gaze to wander over his desk. It was almost impossible to remember the last time he’d felt fully at ease in this room. The stacks of designs that had once held so much promise now felt like hollow accomplishments, each one only reminding him of the fire you’d helped him ignite. His eyes landed on a small pendant lying amidst the clutter. The flower encased inside had faded slightly, its once-vibrant petals softened by time. He picked it up, cradling it carefully in his hand, feeling a strange tenderness rise within him.

You’d given him that flower, pressing it into his hand with a shy smile as you murmured something about it bringing him luck. He could still recall the way your fingers had lingered against his, the brief but electric touch that had left him wondering if you felt it too. “For good luck,” you’d said, your eyes sparkling in that way they always did when you felt especially close to him.

Hongjoong swallowed, feeling a tightness in his chest as he held the pendant closer. How was it that something so small could carry the weight of so many memories? He closed his eyes, and the warmth of your smile flashed in his mind, as vivid as if you were standing beside him. But now, as he held the pendant, it felt heavier, like a tiny piece of the past he was terrified of losing forever.

In his mind, he slipped back to that night—the one that had started as an ordinary work session, yet had unraveled into something far more vulnerable. He could still feel the closeness of the room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows as you both worked side by side, immersed in the quiet moment you shared.

You’d shared things that night that were never meant to leave the room. He could still hear your voice, low and hesitant, as you revealed the fears you held closest to your heart. “Being left alone,” you’d admitted, your words raw and unguarded. The truth of it had lingered between you, a quiet vulnerability that had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

When you turned the question back on him, he’d hesitated, feeling the weight of his own guarded secrets pressing against his chest. But in that quiet space, under the gentle glow of the lamp, he’d found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to in years. “Losing myself,” he’d whispered, his voice barely audible, but enough for you to hear. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Now, standing alone in his empty office, Hongjoong felt the irony of it all washing over him. He’d tried so hard to protect himself, to build walls so high that even you couldn’t reach them. But now, it felt as if he had developed a new fear bigger than losing himself—losing you.

A quiet knock on the door broke his reverie, and he tensed, slipping the pendant into his pocket as he turned. Wooyoung’s face appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of Hongjoong standing alone, the haunting strains of La Vie en Rose still spinning softly from the record player across the room.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to the player, where the melody had been looping for what must have been the better part of an hour. “Still here?” he asked quietly, a hint of concern threading his tone.

Hongjoong forced a slight smile, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Wooyoung stepped further into the room, his gaze sharp as it settled on Hongjoong. “You know…” Wooyoung began, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall, “the world can see how miserable you are. Including her—especially her.”

Hongjoong stiffened, the forced nonchalance slipping from his face as he turned away, staring intently at the record player as if it held all the answers he was struggling to find. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, the words feeling hollow even to his own ears.

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung’s tone softened, a hint of exasperation breaking through. “I know you. I know how much you care about her. And I know you’re running from something you can’t outrun. But you’re not fooling anyone by pretending it doesn’t matter.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with all the reasons he’d built to keep you at a distance. Each one felt logical, safe, a way to protect himself from something he couldn’t quite name. But here, with Wooyoung standing there, watching him with that steady gaze, he felt every layer he’d built start to unravel.

“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, barely audible above the music.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning softer, almost pleading. “Then what are you doing, Hongjoong? Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone too scared to reach for what he really wants.”

Hongjoong’s heart twisted painfully, Wooyoung’s words hitting far too close to home. He felt the weight of everything he’d tried to suppress rising within him, a tidal wave of emotions he’d buried so deeply he’d convinced himself they were gone. But Wooyoung’s words had brought them to the surface, and now, there was no escaping them.

A silence stretched between them, and Hongjoong’s gaze fell to the floor. In that moment, he felt utterly vulnerable, as though Wooyoung could see right through him, could see the aching desire he’d tried so hard to deny. He didn’t have to say it—Wooyoung already knew.

Hongjoong’s fingers were still curled around the pendant in his pocket when Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “So,” Wooyoung began, breaking the silence, “are you really going to stand here, pretending everything’s fine?”

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched, his shoulders tensing. He wanted to brush off Wooyoung’s words, to deflect with some casual response that would keep the carefully built walls intact. But his mind was a battlefield, each memory of you cutting through his defenses like a blade.

“Everything is fine,” he replied tersely. He didn’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes, focusing instead on a spot just beyond his shoulder.

Wooyoung’s brows knitted together, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That’s why you’ve been playing her favorite song on loop for the last hour. That’s why you’ve been holed up in here, avoiding anything that reminds you of her.” He shook his head, his tone equal parts exasperation and worry. “Hongjoong, you’re not fooling me. I know you, and I know you’re running from something—from someone.”

Hongjoong let out a low, frustrated sigh, finally looking up at Wooyoung. “Wooyoung, just drop it, alright?” He forced a tense smile, attempting to sound dismissive. “This… whatever you think is going on, it’s all in your head. We were just friends.”

But Wooyoung didn’t budge. “Friends?” He let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of disbelief. “You really want to go with that? Because the way you’re acting… it doesn’t look like you’re just missing a friend. You’re avoiding her like she’s a stranger, but then you’re here, playing her favorite song over and over, clutching onto that pendant like it’s the last piece of her you have.”

Hongjoong’s fingers instinctively tightened around the pendant, and he felt a pang of frustration rise within him. He didn’t want to admit that Wooyoung’s words struck too close to home. “I told you, it’s nothing like that,” he bit back, his tone sharper than intended. “You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his gaze not faltering. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re acting like a guy who’s desperately trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t even believe.”

“Wooyoung—”

“Hongjoong, you can’t keep lying to yourself.” Wooyoung’s tone softened, his voice carrying a gentleness that seemed to cut deeper than the words themselves. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I do know that you care about her. You’re not fooling anyone by pretending this distance is ‘better’ for either of you.”

Hongjoong’s patience began to fray, his frustration morphing into anger. He shot Wooyoung a glare, his voice rising. “It is better, Wooyoung. She… she deserves better. She doesn’t need to be pulled into whatever mess I am.” He paused, catching his breath, his anger mingling with something closer to desperation. “I’m not what’s best for her. And it’s better for the both of us if I keep my distance.”

Wooyoung’s expression shifted, his gaze hardening as he stepped closer, unwilling to let Hongjoong brush him off. “So, what? You think pushing her away, acting like she means nothing, is somehow good for her? You really think she’s better off without you?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong replied, his tone final, but the conviction in his voice was starting to waver.

Wooyoung gave him a long, scrutinizing look, and for a moment, the silence between them was thick with unspoken truths. Then, Wooyoung shook his head slowly. “You’re lying to yourself. And honestly? It’s pathetic, Hongjoong. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

The words hit Hongjoong like a slap, and a flash of anger surged within him, simmering beneath the surface. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “I’m doing this for her, so just… stop.”

But Wooyoung wouldn’t relent. “You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing this because you’re afraid. Afraid to admit how much she means to you. Afraid of what might happen if you actually let her in. Whatever you’re afraid of, whatever you think is keeping you from being with her… maybe it’s worth rethinking. Because if you keep running like this, you’re going to lose her. And then what?”

Hongjoong felt his control slipping, the carefully constructed barriers he’d built starting to crack under the weight of Wooyoung’s words. He clenched his fists, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “This isn’t about fear.”

“Isn’t it?” Wooyoung’s voice softened, a hint of understanding breaking through the frustration. “Hongjoong… I get it. You’re scared of losing yourself. Of losing control. But she’s not the one who’s going to make that happen. You are, by doing this. By trying so hard to keep her out.”

Hongjoong stayed silent, his chest tightening as Wooyoung’s words began to sink in. He wanted to deny it, to push back with the same conviction he’d clung to for weeks, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew there was truth in Wooyoung’s words.

Finally, Wooyoung let out a sigh, his tone softening even further. “Listen, man. I don’t know what almost happened, or why you’re so determined to stay away from her, but you have to ask yourself… is this really what you want?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to that night in your apartment—the feeling of your hand brushing his, the way your gaze had lingered on him, the unspoken tension that had nearly pulled him into something he couldn’t name. He’d wanted so badly to close that distance, to feel your lips against his, to let go of the fear and doubt that had held him back. But just as he’d leaned closer, Wooyoung’s call had snapped him out of the moment, bringing him crashing back to reality.

“Do you even understand how much she’s hurting, Hongjoong?” And there it was again—the harshness in Wooyoung’s tone. “Seonghwa told me she’s tearing herself apart over this. She doesn’t eat right anymore, and she barely even sleeps. She spends her nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong, wondering if she’s the problem.”

The words landed like a punch to Hongjoong’s gut, leaving him breathless. Images of you flashed through his mind—moments when he’d caught glimpses of your smile faltering, your laughter quieting, the spark in your eyes dimming little by little. He’d told himself it was just his imagination, that you were fine. But Wooyoung’s words shattered that illusion entirely.

“She thinks she did something wrong, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung continued, his voice filled with barely contained anger. “She actually believes she’s the reason you’re running. Every time you disappear, every time you pull away, she thinks it’s because of something she did. And the worst part? She doesn’t even blame you. She blames herself.”

Hongjoong’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as guilt clawed at him.

“Seonghwa told me she asked him if she was too much. Can you believe that?” Wooyoung’s voice cracked. “She actually thinks she’s too much for you. That she’s somehow burdening you, dragging you down. She’s convinced herself that if she were just… less, maybe you wouldn’t be running.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched, a wave of nausea rolling over him as he realized the full extent of the pain he’d caused. You—who had always been so vibrant, so unapologetically yourself—were now questioning every part of who you were, trying to shrink yourself down to avoid scaring him away.

“She’s not even angry at you, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice barely above a whisper now, each word a dagger aimed straight at Hongjoong’s heart. “She doesn’t hate you for this. She just… she thinks she’s not enough. Or that she’s too much. Either way, she’s convinced that she’s the problem.”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind reeling. He could feel the anchor of your pain weighing down on him; He’d done this to you—turned you into a shadow of yourself, left you grappling with doubts and insecurities that weren’t yours to bear.

“You’ve been so busy hiding behind your own fears,” Wooyoung continued, “that you haven’t even stopped to consider what this is doing to her. You’re so terrified of being hurt again that you’re hurting her—over and over, every day, with every step you take away from her.”

Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but the words caught in his throat. What could he possibly say to justify this? How could he explain that he’d been running not to hurt you, but to protect himself? It sounded so selfish, so small in the face of everything you were going through.

“And you know what’s really twisted?” Wooyoung’s voice dropped, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. “She’d take you back in a heartbeat. Despite everything, she’d still look at you the same way she did before you started pushing her away. She’d still forgive you, still try to see the good in you, because that’s who she is. That’s how much she cares.”

Hongjoong felt something break inside him, a quiet, shattering realization that left him reeling. You would forgive him. He knew that. He could see it in his mind—the way you’d smile softly, the way your eyes would fill with understanding, even now. Even after everything, you’d welcome him back, arms open, heart exposed, waiting.

“She deserves better, Joong.” Wooyoung’s words were softer now, the anger replaced by a raw, unfiltered honesty. “She deserves someone who doesn’t make her question her worth. Someone who doesn’t make her feel like she’s somehow wrong just for being herself. And if you can’t be that for her… if you’re too wrapped up in your own fears to let her in… then you need to let her go.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened, a hollow ache spreading through him as he struggled to process it all. He didn’t want to let you go. He couldn’t. But the thought of holding onto you only to keep hurting you, to keep dragging you through his own tangled web of insecurities and fears—it was unbearable.

“She’s barely holding up. She hides it well, but Seonghwa can see it. He told me how she sits alone for hours, just staring off into space, like she’s lost something she can’t find. She keeps her phone close, hoping maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach out. But every time you don’t... it breaks her a little more.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened painfully, each word slicing through him like a blade. He could see it so clearly now, every painful moment he’d forced you through. How you must’ve waited for messages that never came, must’ve spent countless nights wondering where things had gone wrong. The thought of you sitting there, lost in your own pain, while he’d been so focused on his own fears, was more than he could bear.

“And don’t think she hasn’t tried to talk to you.” Wooyoung’s voice turned sharp, accusatory. “Seonghwa told me how many times she’s wanted to reach out, just to make sure you’re okay, just to see if you’d give her even a scrap of reassurance. But every time, she stops herself. She doesn’t want to bother you, doesn’t want to seem needy. She’s holding back everything she feels because she’s afraid it’ll push you further away.”

Wooyoung’s eyes softened slightly, but the fire of his conviction remained. “You need to understand, Hongjoong. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about her too. You’re hurting her, and if you don’t start realizing that, it’ll be too late. She’s going to break, and I don’t think she’ll come back from it.”

Hongjoong felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. The thought of you shattering into pieces because of his cowardice was unbearable. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, to say that he was doing this for you, for the both of you. But deep down, he knew it was a lie. He was only trying to shield himself from the fear of loss, the same fear that had haunted him since that girl from his past had walked away.

“I can’t… I can’t lose anyone again, Woo,” Hongjoong finally admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “What if she sees me for who I really am? What if she realizes I’m not worth it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, frustration flashing across his features. “That’s where you’re wrong. She already sees you, and she loves you for all the parts you’re trying to hide. You think you’re protecting her by staying away, but you’re only pushing her further into despair.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced, a whirlwind of emotions colliding within him. “How do you know? How do you know she feels that way?”

“Because I’ve talked to Seonghwa, and he cares about her, Joong! He’s seen her cry over you. He told me she broke down one night, just sitting on the floor of her room, wondering why you were so distant. She kept saying she must’ve done something wrong. Do you want that for her? Do you want to be the reason she loses herself?”

The image of you curled up alone, tears streaming down your face while grappling with your worth, sliced through Hongjoong. The sheer guilt of it settled heavily in his chest, suffocating him. He had wanted to protect you, but in doing so, he had only hurt you more.

Hongjoong lingered in silence, the weight of his unspoken fears casting a shadow over the room. He could feel Wooyoung’s gaze on him, a

persistent pressure urging him to confront the thoughts he’d been too afraid to voice.

“What if…” The words caught in his throat, his voice strained with the vulnerability he couldn’t hide. “What if I take the next step, and she leaves? What if she ends up leaving just like—”

Wooyoung interrupted him by reaching forward, pressing his fingers gently but firmly to Hongjoong’s lips, shushing him with an authority that surprised them both. “I know what comes next, Hongjoong,” he murmured. “You don’t need to say it.”

Hongjoong stiffened, pulling back ever so slightly, a touch of annoyance flickering across his face. “You think it’s that simple?” he muttered, frustration bleeding into his voice. “You think it’s easy to just… forget?”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, though he held firm. “I think you’re holding onto something that’s long gone, Joong. And you’re letting it get in the way of something real.” He paused, leaning forward. “So what if the girl you loved back in middle school left you? You’re still letting her be the one who decides what happens now?”

Hongjoong’s mouth opened, then closed, his defenses crumbling under Wooyoung’s scrutiny. He could feel the words bubbling up, the excuses he’d used to justify his fears over and over, but this time, they didn’t come. The silence between them grew heavier, and he felt himself shrinking under Wooyoung’s eyes.

“It’s not about her,” Hongjoong finally managed, his voice a strained whisper. “It’s just… this was exactly how it started back then. The same moments, the same feelings, and then…” His voice broke, a haunted look creeping into his eyes as the memories clawed their way to the surface. “And then it all just fell apart the moment she left without a word.”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, his gaze filled with something close to sympathy, but there was no pity there, only an understanding forged through years of friendship. “Joong,” he said softly, leaning even closer as if he could bridge the distance that Hongjoong had placed between himself and everyone around him. “So what if some things feel familiar? They’re not the same person, are they? You’re not the same person, either.”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of anger sparking in his chest as he searched for a way to deflect, to deny the truth in Wooyoung’s words. “It’s… it’s not like that, Woo. You don’t get it.” His voice grew sharper, frustration edging his tone as he tried to hold onto the walls he’d built.

Wooyoung shook his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Really? Because it doesn’t look that way to me.”

Hongjoong looked away, his gaze hardening as he stared at the floor. “It’s not that simple, okay? You don’t know what it’s like to… to risk everything and then lose it.”

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hongjoong, I may not know exactly what you went through, but I do know one thing: you’re letting something from the past dictate your future. And that’s not fair. Not to you, and definitely not to her.”

Hongjoong’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as he felt the weight of Wooyoung’s words settle over him. Part of him wanted to argue, to cling to the fears that had kept him guarded for so long, but another part—a part he’d buried deep—knew that Wooyoung was right.

“What if I let myself try?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his words laden with the weight of years of doubt and self-preservation. “What if… what if I take that risk, and she ends up leaving?”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting a reassuring hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Joong, if she’s really the person you believe she is… then maybe it’s a risk worth taking. Because people leave, yeah. They walk away. But the ones who matter, the ones who are meant to stay—they won’t go anywhere.”

“You’re saying I should just… trust that?” His voice wavered, the question more for himself than for Wooyoung, as if he needed to convince himself that he could still believe in something other than his own fears.

Wooyoung’s mouth curved into a gentle, understanding smile. “Yeah. Trust it. Don’t let something that’s already gone keep you from what could be right here, right now.”

“What if I let her in? What if I let her see the real me? What if it’s not enough?”

“Then you fight for her,” Wooyoung replied. “You show her every day that she’s enough. You fight for her instead of running away. You have to be brave enough to take the risk, Joong. And if she does leave, at least you’ll know you tried. You can’t live in the shadow of your past forever.”

“But what if she sees me as weak?” Hongjoong countered, bitterness lacing his tone. “What if she thinks I’m broken?”

“Then you show her that even broken pieces can fit together to make something beautiful,” Wooyoung shot back. “You’ve built this wall around yourself, but you’re just hurting the one person who’s tried to break through. You need to trust her. You need to let her help you. She wants to be there for you, but you have to meet her halfway.”

The truth of those words echoed painfully in Hongjoong’s mind. He had been running, terrified of the vulnerability that came with love, terrified of the chance that he could be left once more. But he could feel the edges of that fear beginning to fray under the weight of his guilt, unraveling with every word Wooyoung spoke.

“You can’t let the past dictate your present, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer now, a mixture of empathy and frustration. “You can’t keep running away from what you feel. If you do, you’ll end up losing her, and it’ll be your fault.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced as he thought of you—how you had lit up his life in ways he never thought possible. How your laughter had become a soothing balm to his weary soul. He couldn’t keep ignoring the truth that was staring him in the face. The realization washed over him like a cold wave. “What am I supposed to do?” Hongjoong whispered.

“Fight for her, Joong. Show her that you’re not afraid. Be honest with her, and don’t let fear win this time.” Wooyoung leaned closer. “She deserves that much, at the very least. Fight for her—before it’s too late.”

“But what if it already is?”

🪞 — lividstar.

#౨ৎ﹒ノ﹒lividstar．#ateez fluff #ateez x reader #hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong x reader #ateez angst #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong ateez #jung wooyoung #park seonghwa

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breezymichelle99 · 3 months ago

Text

Punch heard ‘round the Paddock | Lando Norris

Summery: After a long frustrating Austrian GP, you do something out of anger that may just hurt Lando’s career and his friendship with another driver.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, cursing, frustrated Lando, a little bit of Dom:Lando, p in v, unprotected sex(please be safe) established relationship, public displays of affection, begging, punching, degrading by a male character to a female character, loss of friendship, threats, bloody knuckles, Lando being the sweetest and defending you, after care, worry, anxiety, Max being a douche, replays of the Austrian GP. As always if I have forgotten anything please let me know. Thanks hope you enjoy.

A|N: please remember this is a work of fiction and some details may be altered or changed to fit the narrative. Also none of these feelings especially ones in reference to Max Verstappen are how I actually feel towards him. ☺️

Today was the Austrian Grand Prix. You and your boyfriend Lando Norris had gone about your usual race morning activities together like you always did which included; getting ready, stopping to get a Latte on the way to the track and sharing some love with the fans. You knew Lando had been frustrated with his last few race finishes even though he landed P2 you knew he wanted more and who could blame him. So obviously he was in the zone for today's race. After a busy weekend he felt good about the work they had put into the car. You held his hand tightly as you walked with him to the garage, so he could get one last look at his car before getting ready for the race. Oscar passed by wishing him luck and hugging you before taking a look at his own car. You knew you would have to leave him soon so he could get ready. “What is it?” he asks quietly, gently kissing your lips, as he notices the worry in your eyes. “It’s nothing baby, you know how I get on race day.” you say, offering him a loving smile. He smiled back knowing just how anxious you got before a race. He brushes a strand of your hair from your face, gently caressing your cheek as he stares lovingly into your eyes with his gorgeous green ones. “It’s going to be alright love.” he promises. Kissing your lips once more and squeezing you tightly. You feel better with his arms wrapped around you. “Lando” you hear his name being called. He looks back to see Oscar waving him into a drivers meeting. “Alright baby.” he sighs, letting you go. “I love you Lando, be safe.” you whisper not ready to let him go just yet. “I love you more my darling. I will.” he says, giving you one more kiss before Oscar calls him again. You watch him disappear with his teammate and buddy and you can’t help but chuckle as you watch the pair goof off.

You didn’t have the heart to tell Lando that you had a bad feeling about today's race. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong or something was going to happen. You shoved it aside not letting it overtake the good mood your boyfriend had been in, especially since he had been feeling under the weather the last couple of races. You knew he had been racing hard and was disappointed ending P2 both times even though he had done his best, he was still so hard on himself and you knew he would continue to race hard until he won. But with that came racing hard with the bane of your existence; Max Verstappen. Him and Lando were friends but you didn��t like the way he raced and the fact that he kept winning and racing completely recklessly was beginning to worry you, especially with Lando racing so hard to win. You knew competition was healthy for the sport and made for a good race but you just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt because someone was careless; especially Lando. But as you took your place in the Paddock ready to watch the drivers parade and the starting ceremonies you begin to feel better, the usual atmosphere of an F1 race taking away any nerves and anxiety that you had especially after having a chat with one of your good friends Alexandra; who is Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend and of course giving a few loving pets to their adorable dog Leo .

Before long you heard “Lights out and away we go.” and you knew it was going to be 71 laps of crazy. You took a deep breath. You watched as much as you could on the track in front of you and the rest was seen on a screen inside your little room since the track was so large. You nervously bounce your leg up and down as the laps tick off, Max and Lando battling each one. So far everything seemed good. Max’s car was crazy fast and Lando was literally driving the wheels off his to catch up. Then you gasp as you see an incident on pit road, Max shooting out of his pit box almost hitting Lando and causing him to have to enter his pit at a funky angle. You hear him upset on the radio. Things would only continue to get worse from there not once but twice would Max block Lando under braking, which even you knew was a no-no. Again you hear the frustration coming from Lando’s Radio. “Calm down baby, you got this.” you whisper, knowing that he can’t really hear you but somehow you knew he could. Lando was clearly quicker than Max now and he finally got a shot to pass him but ended off track having to give P1 back to Max. you hear him groan over the radio. “Patience baby.” you whisper again to noone. You were standing and pacing now.

Lap 65 of 71 was when disaster struck. Max and Lando had been racing each other pretty hard the last couple of laps and you could tell they were both getting annoyed with each other. And then for the third time Max blocked him but there was contact and the right rear tire was completely done and there was also damage to the front wing. You hear Lando over the radio. “We have a puncture! We are fucked.” he cursed as you watch him make his way to pit lane. “We’re done” you hear him say as you watch him get out and retire the car. He will DNF. “Damn it, I fucking knew it.” you shout, as you throw something across the room, tears streaming down your face, absolutely heartbroken for Lando. You watch the screen finishing the race knowing he would have to be checked out and probably interviewed before he could see you. You watch as Max would complete the race in 5th, allowing himself to gain valuable points for his team in the championship race. “Fucking asshole.” you shout again as you leave the paddock; a woman on a mission.

Lando was fuming. He was trying not to show it as he was interviewed but he couldn’t help it, Him and Max were friends and he knew deep down it was just an accident and shit happens on the race track, but this really sucked. Still he knew he would be asked about Max fifteen hundred times and each time it only made him angrier. He kept his thoughts on finding you as soon as possible as he answered the stupid questions. He needed his safe space, his home, he needed you. You however were searching the garage but you weren’t looking for Lando, you were looking for Max. You were furious, Lando deserved better, he deserved respect, especially from his so-called friend, and he was gunna get it no matter if you had to cause a scene or not. That’s when you spotted him across the garage. “VERSTAPPEN” you yell. All eyes turning towards you. “Who the hell do you think you are??” you shout heading in his direction immediately. “Uh Oh.” Charles says trying to grab you but you were just out of reach. Carlos immediately starts trying to call Lando but it keeps going to voicemail. Max turns around and rolls his eyes. “Norris couldn’t fight his own battle, had to send his guard dog I see.” he taunts, also upset with the situation not realizing what he was saying.. “He doesn’t even know I’m here and will be none too pleased when he finds out; however that is not the point. Where’d you learn to drive? Seriously I'm sick and tired of you driving like a dick and Lando having to pay the price for it. You’re reckless and careless and someone is going to get seriously hurt.” you scream. At this point Charles has caught up to you and is trying to talk you out of doing anything stupid. “Y|N, please just walk away, let’s go look for Lando I’m sure he is looking for you.” he pleads. But your blood was boiling and that stupid smug look on Max’s face was not helping at all. “Come on princess, don't be like that, it’s not my fault that Norris can’t keep up with me.” before he could say another word you haul off and punch him square in the nose. The whole garage gasps. “Keep fucking with Lando and you’ll get more than a bloody nose.” you shout finally allowing yourself to be whisked away by Charles. Carlos still hadn’t gotten a hold of Lando; who had been in an interview the entire time this scene was playing out.

He got there just in time to watch his girl slug Max right in the face. He tried to hold back the smirk as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. “Y|N” he shouts, his voice deep and dark and you knew it immediately and you knew you were in trouble. You turn out of Charles grasp, which was tight because he didn’t want you to try for round two. “Lando I’m so sorry.” you beg almost hitting your knees in front of him. “I just couldn't sit back and watch this any more. I'm sorry I should have been more level headed. I just couldn’t do..” before you could continue to beg for his forgiveness he kissed your lips shutting you up instantly. “It’s alright baby.” he whispers, pulling you into him, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. He takes your hand, noticing immediately your bruised and bloody knuckles. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” he whispers before kissing your knuckles gently. He holds on to you tightly as he guides you back to his driver's room. He sits you down before grabbing a few things from the bathroom to take care of your bruised and busted knuckles. He kissed each one as he went, looking at you with those gorgeous forgiving eyes. Once he was finished he sat beside you. “Hell of a right hook you got there darling.” he smirks. There was silence for a second as you stared at him. You couldn’t believe what you had done. “I am sorry Lan.” you whisper looking away from him now, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face. He tucks his long fingers under your chin making you look at him. “I know baby, I know.” he says, his eyes still sad from the DNF. Silence filled the room for what seemed like a lifetime before he spoke again. He had yet to take his eyes off of you.

“Seeing you punch him right in the nose did give me a bit of comfort though. It was quite the sight babe, has me really turned on actually.” he giggled. You playfully smack him. “Lando.” you roll your eyes. He kisses you wildly, trying anything to lighten up the situation. “Come on love, let's get you out of here.” he winks at you, knowing you were in for a treat when you got back to the hotel. By now the whole paddock was abuzz with talk of the infamous right hook. You knew there would be consequences but you would gladly accept them as long as nothing happened to Lando; it wasn’t his fault you couldn't control your emotions. He grabs your hand tightly as you leave the drivers room. Of course the press was standing outside. He grabbed you tighter pulling you through the sea of reporters all wanting to know the juicy details. He stops for a second. “No comment.” he says, staring them all down with his intense gaze, you can’t help but smirk as a light red tint darkens your cheeks at his forcefulness, before he pulls you through the sea of reporters towards the car, towards safety. Finally you reach the car and get in locking the doors immediately. He looks over at you in the passenger seat. He smirks. “What?” you ask, blushing again. His hand finds your thigh. “I fucking love you.” he says his lips capturing yours before you can say anything back. This kiss takes your breath away as you pull your lips away slowly pulling his bottom lip between your teeth biting it gently.. You smile at him as he groans into your lips. “Come on baby, take me back to the hotel.” you wink at him and he smiles. “Yes ma’am.” and without another word he was headed in the direction of the hotel. You both decide when you get there to turn off your phones and spend some quality time together. The drama could wait for the morning, right now it was about each other. And Lando had every intention of forgetting about his terrible race finish lost deep inside of you.

You’d barely made it into the elevator before his lips and hands were all over you. “Lan” you moan in his ear as his lips peppered your neck with kisses, you feel him grin against your neck. You’d caused enough of a scene today you didn’t need to continue but getting him to stop was going to be tougher than you thought. After a few minutes you give up trying to make him behave and let him do as he pleased, like you always do. He was impossible to resist. The elevator doors opened and he separated his body from yours long enough to drag you down the hall and to your room. His lips capture yours once more as the pair of you help each other abandon the clothes you were wearing, he backs you right up to the big king sized bed. “Lan, are we going to talk about what happened?” you ask your body now helpless beneath his. He smirks down at you. “Later baby, right now I need you. Please.” Those green eyes beg, locked with yours with intentions of only spending the next few hours forgetting everything except you, and how you look when you cum for him, his name only on those perfect lips, how your back arches to meet him every step of the way, letting him lose himself in you. Without words your lips crash into his, giving him the green light, he wasted no time at all. His hand slid up to your neck, long fingers pressed into your delicate skin. You whine beneath him. “Mmm Lan.” you moan his name in his ear as he kisses from your lips down your chest. Focused solely on praising you for being such a good girl for him, for standing up for him no matter the consequences.

His hand gripped your thigh as he eased himself into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to him. Your back arched perfectly off the mattress to meet his hips. “Fuckkk baby you fit me so fucking good.” he groans, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. “God Lando please.” you beg him, matching every movement as he eases in and out of you taking you both where you need to go. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, scratches down back, hickies on your chest as he slows his movements now taking you right up to the edge and then beginning again. “Fuckk Lando, I love it when you're so god damn needy for me.” you moan your voice almost a hoarse whisper from how much he’s had you screaming his name. He slows as he begins to speak now, eyes locked on yours. He stills inside of you, you whine biting your lip. He can't help but smirk. Who was the needy one? He thought to himself. “Lando” you whisper looking up into his gorgeous green lust filled eyes, wondering why he had stopped, leaving you both on the edge. He runs his long fingers over your cheek admiring your beauty. “Thank you.” he whispers. For?” you question. Wondering why he was choosing this moment to thank you when he should be fucking you senseless. “For always having my back.” he says. You try not to roll your eyes. Really right now?” you think to yourself. You smirk up at him, touching his face. He melts into your touch. “Always baby.” you whisper. He kisses your lips passionately. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, biting it gently, he moans. “However Mr. Norris if you don’t stop thanking me and fuck me properly here pretty soon, you’ll be on your own next time.” you chuckle, moving your hips with him still inside you so he moans your name out loud. “Fuckk okay baby.” he groans into your mouth as his lips capture yours as he moves his hips slowly with yours, fingers gripping your thigh moving your hips so he can get deeper hitting all the right spots. “God Lando, yes please, god yes right there.” His face is buried in your chest, as his thrusts become more erratic, sloppy as you both chase your high. You arch your back once more meeting him at the just right angle to have him hitting the right spot making you cum instantly, his name echoing through the hotel room. “God your so fucking beautful when you cum for me.” he groans. Watching your eyes roll back and hips buckle he follows you soon after. “Fuckk baby I love you so much.” he whispers breathless onto your neck as he would cum inside you. You lay there for a moment both trying to catch your breath before Lando pulls himself from you and lays beside you.

His long fingers brush a strand of your long hair from your face as he stares at you once again admiring you, how had he gotten so lucky? “You’re staring at me again.” you chuckle. Feeling so tiny under his gaze. “I can’t help it, you’re so incredibly beautiful and all mine.” he says, his lips capturing yours. You can’t help but moan into his mouth. You never could get enough of him. You blush and smile as his lips pull away from yours. “I'm always yours, Lando forever.” you say. “I wouldn’t act like a crazy person if I wasn’t fully dedicated to you Lan.” you smile because you hear him laugh from the other room, he had gotten up to get a wash rag, and slip his boxers on. He stopped in the doorway to admire you naked in bed, that always was his favorite view. He got you all cleaned up and snuggled into his arms before he commented on your crazy, trying to avoid this conversation tonight but he knew you had to discuss it. “You’re not crazy, baby.” he smiles as he recalls watching you slug Max. He did have to admit that watching you punch him had made him feel a whole lot better. “I really am sorry Lan, emotions just got the best of me and I didn't really think things through like I should have, I was just so angry and I couldn’t see anything but red and now I probably ruined your relationship with Max and who knows what kind of trouble you’ll be in for my actions.” you had started to cry finally letting what happened set in. “hey hey don’t cry baby. Max and I will be fine and whatever happens we’ll work through it together. Okay? Please don’t cry.” he says wiping away your tears, you melt into his touch. “I'm so sorry Lan.” you repeat. He quiets you. “Shh baby it’s all gunna be okay.” he says kissing your forehead pulling you into him. You lay your head on his chest and fall asleep between sniffles.

“Don’t worry baby, I got us.” he says pulling out his phone. Though it was well into the early morning he knew what he had to do. “Max, I apologize for today. The race, after the race. Let’s talk. Okay?” - Lando. He saw all the notifications on his phone and he knew those were all comments and tags from the punch heard ‘round the paddock. He sighed. Into the fire he thought. He looked down at you sleeping in his arms and he knew he’d handle anything that came your way, he’d protect your peace anyway he could. He loved you so much and no matter what happened he’d do anything for you. He looked down at your busted knuckles on your beautiful hand that was gently laying on his chest. He smirked. He hadn’t expected Max to text him back so soon. “Let��s have breakfast tomorrow, bring Y|N please?”-Max. He swallowed hard. Did he want you to be there because he wanted to work shit out or was he wanting you to be there so he can slap you with a restraining order? Lando’s heart raced. What did he mean by that? “Sure, let’s work this out.”-Lando he writes back. Putting his phone on the bedside table and pulling you into his arms. That would be a problem to solve tomorrow right now he just wanted you.

You woke up slowly. Feeling like the events of yesterday were all a fever dream. Lando was still asleep in your arms. You run your fingers through his messy curls admiring his beauty. He really was so handsome. His features, soft as he slept in your arms peacefully. “I love you Lan, you are my absolute everything baby.” you whisper as you watch him sleep. You stop playing in his curls and you hear him grumble. “Why’d you stop?” you hear his sleepy voice whisper. You smile. “Sorry baby.” you say returning your fingers to his hair. “That’s better.” he says quietly. He didn’t want to get up, he wanted to stay just like this. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. “We have to meet Max for breakfast.” he whispers. He hears you gasp. “Max?” you play stupid. “Max Fewtrell? Didn’t know he was in town” you say knowing damn well it wasn’t your favorite Max but it was indeed your worst nightmare. Lando finally opens his eyes looking at you with tired beautiful eyes. “No baby you know exactly which Max.” he says sitting up. You groan, rolling your eyes. When did he have time to arrange this little get together anyways. “Do we have too?” you ask him, kissing his chest hoping to distract him enough to change his mind. He gives you a little side eye. “You know we have too.” he says, pulling you into his arms. You sigh. “Alright.” you say. Getting up from the comfort of Lando’s arms, headed to the shower to get ready. When you got out of the shower Lando was on his phone typing away, no doubt doing social media damage control. He was already dressed and ready to go. “Can we please go and get this over with?” you ask with a sigh, taking out your phone finally to see how bad it was. Social media was definitely a buzz, of course there were Lando fans that were praising you, wishing they could have been the ones to have done it, saying you were queen and thanking god Lando had you but then of course there were the Max fans who were coming for you left and right talking about how immature you and Lando both were, and how lando needed to keep his dog on a leash. Wow harsh you thought. But somehow you thought you deserved it. You tucked your phone away ready to just get this nightmare over with. Lando notices you on your phone, he furrows his brow hoping you weren’t getting too much hate. He knew it would be worse for you and he’d do anything to keep you from feeling how you felt right now. He kisses your temple.”It's going to be alright baby, all of it.” he says. He takes your hand and leads you out of the hotel room and down to the restaurant in the hotel.

Lando stopped a few times to sign a few autographs. You waited patiently. He took your hand back and led you into the restaurant. Max already had a table and was sitting there waiting for you two. He looked up when you approached the table and for the first time you saw his black eye. Shit. you whisper under your breath. He stands from the table shaking hands with Lando and then trying to hug you. You give in, hugging him back. The three of you take your seats. Lando looked over at you, his hand had found your thigh under the table and was squeezing it gently. You sigh. You knew what you had to do. “Max, I'm really sorry.” you say tapping your fingers on the table nervously. “I let emotions get the best of me yesterday and I'm so sorry. Please don’t take this out on Lando, I should have been more level headed..” Max interrupts you. You swallow hard. “Y|N we both said and did things we didn’t mean yesterday in the heat of the moment. What happened on the track was an accident between two passionate drivers. Do I wish things could have happened differently, absolutely I never want that to happen, especially with my friend.” he pauses looking at Lando, who smiles. “I really want to get past this if you do.” he says. You nod your head. “Yes I do.” you say, knowing you were really only doing this for Lando. You and Max both stand hugging again. “Are we good?” Max asks Lando, hoping that the incident on the track hadn’t ruined their relationship either. “Yeah we’re good as long as you two are good. That’s all I care about.” he says looking from Max to you. You blush under his gaze. “We’re fine.” you whisper. Lando nods. “Then we’re all good.” Lando says. Finally everything felt good and breakfast had arrived quickly to break the tension. Social media was already buzzing again with photos of your breakfast with Max. “Have the Red Bull and Mclaren driver’s kissed and made up?” the headlines read with a photo of the three of them laughing at the table. At least they had something new to talk about now.

“I'm going to use the restroom before we head back up to the room, I'll met you in the hall.” you say excusing yourself from the table, kissing Lando on the cheek before you leave. “I'm sorry again, I really appreciate us being able to work everything out like adults.” you say. “Me too, hey if I ever need someone with a great right hook, I know who to call.” he jokes and you laugh. Everything is finally feeling okay. You left Lando and Max chatting at the table as you head to the restroom quickly. Lando gets up first and Max follows him right after. “Glad we could talk this out.” Max says, extending his hand to Lando, who has a look in his eyes like he hasn’t quite accepted the apology yet. Lando takes his hand and pulls him in for one of those little bro hugs, you always laugh at. “If you EVER speak to Y|N again, the way you did in the paddock yesterday, it won't be her punching you next time, and I guarantee I hit a hell of a lot harder.” Lando growls, letting go of Max’s hand and leaving him standing near the table. Charles had texted him yesterday after the race filling him in on all the details of what he had missed, including everything that Max had said to you. He fully understood why you felt the need to punch him, because when Lando found he wanted to do a lot worse. You were waiting for him in the hallway by the time he finished taking care of his little Max problem. “Where’s Max?” you ask, noticing how tight Lando had his Jaw locked. “He won't be leaving with us.” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the elevator, back to the safety of your room. “Do I want to ask what happened?” you say as soon as the elevator doors close. “Let’s just leave it alone, okay baby.” he says, eyes begging you to please drop it. You do. “How about the pool for a bit before we finally head home?” he asks, trying to change the subject. You look at lando’s watch checking the time. You had about three hours before you had to be at the airport. “Sure that sounds like fun.” you smirk. The tightness in his jaw finally loosened at the thought of you in a bikini. You get back to the room packing most of your things so you didn’t have much to do when you got back. Hand in hand you head to the pool happily spending the rest of your time, in the warm sun, in each other's arms.

You were eventually called to MTC to discuss your behavior but ended up with a warning and a reminder to stay away from Max, but you had no trouble with that. The social media storm had finally calmed down and you weren’t public enemy number one any longer. You were finally able to enjoy being back in the paddock for the next few races, very much looking forward to the summer break and enjoying a much needed break with Lando and friends away from the paddock.

The end.

#photos are not mine #from pinterest #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #mclaren #f1 imagine

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