#5. you mentioned it’s hard to put on clothes over a tv head. that’s why i gave k.y.e this zip-up-shirt-top-thing

[deltastorm101]

“do the face, do the face! :D”

@subjectsix ‘s K.Y.E. and Raster from her original story Botan City!

[starminzoo]

Ateez

╰┈➤ when they see you in summer dress (maknae line)

warnings: suggestive but no smut, dirty talk, mention of food, claiming and marking

* ˚ ✦ San

san had been begging you to go to the beach with him but the weather was so hot you couldn't bear to be under the sun for more then 5 minutes but he was insistent that you guys go where you can just sit in the lounge area while he goes swimming in the ocean. he was just a big baby who couldn't be away from you so alas you had to say yes to his whining and begging because how can you say no to him with that pouty smile and puppy eyes. you both were ready the sun burning over your heads, san was already in the car checking up on some things while you were putting away your make up and clothes scattered around the house "princess we are going to be late come on" you yelled back at him telling him that you were coming. you were about to reach for the handle of the door when he came around and opened it for you when your both were seated. san properly looked at you cursing as he did "what, what happened" you asked confused " you princess you" you confusingly stared at him "you should have told me you were wearing that dress so we could stay home while I do you" san shut up an-eekk" your words were cutoff as he pulled you in his lap directly on his crotch which was hidden by sorry excuse of a short " fuck i could eat you right here" he exclaimed as he pulled you by your neck lips smashing against each others . the car was filled with small groans and grunts as you slightly rocked on his hard on " fuck princess just like that yes" as he threw his head back enjoying the pleasure you removed yourself from his lap and went back to your seat " san you wanted to go to the beach so let's do that alright " you evilly commented like you were not effected by his kisses and touch he whined but obliged nevertheless.

that might be san's worst time swimming as he couldn't think straight due to the bulge in his shorts so you guys had to fix it in the restroom urgently.

* ˚ ✦ Mingi

mingi was lounging on the couch bored out of his mind , his girlfriend (you) went shopping with your friends you had offered him to come with him but he was too lazy to get up from the bed and just wanted to spend the whole day snuggled in the sheets but you had to ran some errands and do some shopping so you had to push the urge to stay in bed all day. mingi kind of regretted not tagging along with you so he there he was eyes boringly staring at the tv which played a show which he had no interest in. just as he heard the rattling of keys outside his door his ears perked up just like a puppy, he sat up on the couch just as the door opened you came in with holding bags in both hand seeing that he immediately got up and helped you put away the bags and pulled you in a hug his face snuggling in the crook of your neck taking in you scent "missed you baby, why did you leave me here alone" you chuckled while patting his back "I did offered you to tag along but you declined you big baby" "but-" just as he moved his face away from your neck to look at your face to jokingly argue with you his words got caught in his throat, he felt his wind pipe being crushed "darling you look radiant in this dress" so he finally took your whole body in, taking evey inch in

a slight hint of red took place on your cheek "that's really sweet of you bu-" words were snatched away from your mouth as his lips smashed on yours that took a bit by surprise he moved you backwards against the wall still kissing you the, kisses turning sloppy real quick, hands trying to touch every inch of your body, he slowly moved down and down kissing your jaw, neck, collarbones, the valley between your boobs, your covered stomach "mingi what- ahh fuck" words were again taken from your mouth as he was on his knees between your legs, he snucked his head under your dress harshly bitting and sucking on your inner thighs very close to your covered core "please darling will you let me stay here and worship you hmm darling will you?" his voice husky and filled with lust asked you, how could you say no to such request you immediately nodded yes and he wasted no time diving his head under your dress again. that was the day mingi decided if you were going to wear such dresses he was going with you no matter what.

* ˚ ✦ Wooyoung

wooyoung and the boys always had plans together aside from work, sometimes going for drinks, dinner, arcade games or just their activities. now when they got some few days off they decided on having lunch together but this time it was not just them but they also invited you as the girlfriend's of other members would be there to. at first when wooyoung told you about it you declined because you didn't wanted to intrude but when he told you about the boys bringing the s/o along you agreed immediately. so now you both were getting ready you adorned a beautiful baby blue summer dress with some white in it, it was gifted to your by your beloved boyfriend on your birthday, he bought it while on a tour. you did a few touches of makeup here and there and called out for wooyoung to announce that your are ready, he hummed and entered the room but his eyes remain unmoved as he took in your figure " I knew it you would look gorgeous in it baby, you always do" the compliment falling out from his lips easily as he cheekily smiled at before moving closer to you hands sneaking around your waist to pull you in a passionate kiss but you knew the kiss was signaling something else rather then simple adoration and before the kiss could lead to the said thoughts in your mind you pulled away from his lips leaving him whining but you reminded him of the lunch and soon departed from the house.

the lunch went smoothly. the food was great, the atmosphere was lovely and chatting with the boys and their girls was very refreshing and enjoyable. but as you were talking with san's girlfriend about the new Netflix show you were watching you felt a foot creep up your leg and you were not surprised as you know it belonged to your lovely boyfriend as he sat in front of you he had a sly smile on his face but wasn't looking at you and pretended to be interested in the conversation he was having with yeosang you pushed his foot away slightly but that didn't stopped him he kept doing it the whole lunch driving you crazy you felt your panties stick to your wet core as his teasing didn't stop until the lunch came to an end and you both said your goodbyes and entered the car, you immediately slapped his thigh as hard as you could, a yelp leaving his mouth as you gave him a glare but he just chuckled and started the car as you stared out the window when you felt a hand on your thigh it was pretty normal for woo to hold you during car ride but you were already on edge and evey small action send shiver down your spine seeing your reaction as he messaged your thigh a creepy smile took place on his face and he suddenly dived his hand between your thighs and started rubbing your clit, a sudden moan leaving your mouth but eyes wide open with shock you tried to question him but no words left your mouth as he increased the pace of his fingers "shush baby just enjoy hmm god i want wait to fuck you fill you up your cunt"

* ˚ ✦ Jongho

the scorching summer days were finally over just as monsoon started the days become less hot and more breezy, it was getting more and more boring and tiring in home when it was 45°C outside, and you both were literally dying due the heat but now you both could take part in activities you both had planned. as jongho played with the boys you decided to join him in the basketball court which was 5 minute walk away from your house, you put on his favorite dress and got ready as he once told you that you were his lucky charm and bought him luck. after reaching the court you watched him from the sidelines, cheering him on as he sinks a three-pointer. As he takes a break from the game, Jongho finally notices you strides over to you, his sweaty jersey clinging to his chest. "Hey, beautiful!" he exclaims, his eyes shining with excitement. "You're my good luck charm! I'm on fire today!" you giggled at his comment kissing his sweaty cheek in response "be sure to make me proud baby and I might reward you for it later" his eyes lit up with mischievous glint in them and you know that you are in for it tonight. so obliging to your words he scored baskets and won. after finishing the game he picked you up and twirled you around this play full personality of his was very endearing to you as he rarely showed but no matter what you always cherished him and loved him. he boys cheered and teases him but instead he flipped them off and you both took your leaves and left the court as you guys reached home, you ordered your guys favorite food as a treat while jongho took a shower.

you were taking your dress off just in your undies now when he called for you from the shower asking for a towel when you very much remembered placing it on the counter but nevertheless you went inside and just as you entered with a towel in hand, a wet hand pulled you inside the shower a yelp leaving your mouth at the sudden action but jongho just laughed at you "hey! it's not funny i nearly slipped and died" "don't worry i would catch you" he playfully said while pulling you closer to him "babe I haven't taken off my bra and panties ho-" "i will do it for you" just as the words left your mouth he got to work and rid your of your soaked undies as they came off his hands were on your immediately pulling you flush against his body, kissing away like a deprived man "fuck you looked so pretty in that dress and the guys wouldn't stop talking about you and it made me want to mark you right then and there" you gasped as his lips sucked a dark bruise on your neck which could be easily spotted "hmm beautiful will you let me mark you hmmm let me claim huh will you" you vigorously nodded a yes as his hands started moving south and lips moved down to suck on your boobs. the next day when you woke up you were welcomed with several dark hickeys littered on your neck as well as chest and some on the legs too so you figured it out you couldn't wear the dress again in public as your boyfriend message was loud and clear to you seeing the artwork.

tysm for reading. do reblog and let me know your thoughts and excuse me for any mistakes as this is not proof read 😭

[victimeyez]

Prepare (Prologue to Lisa and Mark)

Professional//Victim pt.4

Caius prepares Tommy for his next client.

Masterlist: x Prev: x Next: x

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter @whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl

CW: Captive whumpee, fuck it.. femboy Tommy, forced crossdressing, mention of intimate whumpers, restraints, shock collars, begging, cruel whumpers

~

Tommy’s room was probably not up to code.

It was a small room in the basement, barely bigger than his twin bed. The only semblance of a window was a short row of thick glass blocks at the top of the far wall. They couldn’t be seen through, and only let in a limited and filtered daylight. 

The carpet was long worn out, the soft cushioning of the fibers ground into a tough mat. The clothing his captors provided was locked away from him in a trunk under the bed, and a rotting bookcase housed handfuls of random books. Bare wires hung from the unfinished ceiling and walls, smartly covered with a clear pane of plastic to keep them out of his reach.

He used to have one of those old TVs, the big boxy ones no one used anymore. All it got was the public channels, but he liked to keep it on, just to hear people talking. It was taken away after he scratched Caius, and now he only listened to the sounds of the house and the overhead pipes. 

Either they had forgotten to give it back, or they still held it against him - it didn’t truly matter either way, if he asked he would be told no.

He was afforded a few CDs and an old walkman. It lay discarded next to him in bed - he knew what was coming and didn’t want to be taken by surprise. Sam had “cleared” him as his skin had been forced whole again, little trace left of the pain he had endured. Every single time. He stared at the waterstained ceiling and listened until there was the familiar sound of his door unlocking. Caius was the only one that ever came down here. He pulled the sheets over his head.

“You need to get dressed, we have a client tonight.”

Tommy knew. He had been stewing in his dread all day, hiding under the covers in his bed. 

“What does this one want from me?” Tommy asked from under the blankets.

“Well… this one is a little more complicated. I’ll tell you about it in the car. But I need you to put this on.”

Tommy felt a very slight weight over his foot.

“It’s at the foot of your bed. I’m going to give you ten minutes to get dressed. I’ll be back, and then we gotta do some prep in the bathroom.”

Tommy peeked out from the covers at Caius.

“The bathroom?”

“The bathroom. Be ready within ten minutes. I’ll leave you to it.”

Caius padded out of the room, clicking the lock shut behind him.

It was nice to have a little space for once, instead of having to strip and dress in front of Caius, but it was hard to motivate himself to emerge from his cocoon. He stared at the clock until 5 minutes passed, and made himself sit up.

(Let’s just take it one step at a time… we’re just getting dressed and going for a car ride… )

It wasn’t very common for clients to request specific clothes, but it happened sometimes. A few wanted him to come in dress clothes. Others had wanted him to dress up for some kind of sick role play.

He grabbed the black fabric at the end of the bed and immediately realized why Caius had left.

The first item he held up was a mess of black leather straps. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it and tossed it to the side 

The next item he pulled was a very long black sock - no, stocking. 

He frantically shook out the rest of the costume to see what he was working with. 

Head to toe, there was the strappy mess, a short black skater skirt, a black goddamn jockstrap, and black thigh-highs with elastic garters already attached.

Fetish gear. Bile rose in his throat.

(What the fuck are they gunna do to me?)

He glanced at the clock and saw he only had two minutes left.

(Empty your head. Just - put it on. Two minutes.)

The jockstrap was a cold faux-leather, but slipped on easily enough. He hardly felt more covered by the skirt, no matter how low he pulled it down his hips. He was so frustrated, so angry, but above all terrified of Caius coming to that door before he was dressed. He caught himself tearing up while he struggled to roll on the long socks. The elastic at the top sat snug enough on his thighs that they seemed to stay up, at least for now. (How the fuck do I put the straps on?!)

Three sharp warning knocks on the door. 

The back of his neck felt hot, almost guilty, fearing punishment.

Caius opened the door to a tearful, wide-eyed Tommy on his bed, flushed red and a little short of breath. He had one hand on the hem of his skirt, trying to pull it flat out across his lap to shield him. The other grasped a fistful of the hopelessly tangled harness, pressed to his naked chest.

“Um, could you - can you help me with the-” He swallowed anxiously.

“-With this?”

Caius stared for a moment, unable to keep himself from cracking a grin. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed somewhat, dropping the harness to his lap and lowering his gaze. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand self-consciously. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone anymore. 

Caius kneeled on the bed beside him and took the harness, holding it up and starting to untangle parts to try to see how it would fit on. 

“Is it Alice?” Tommy asked quietly.

Caius chuckled and buckled a part together.

“No, not today. I’m sure you won’t be free of her forever, but she hasn’t set up another booking yet.”

Tommy looked hard at his knees, and pushed the skirt in between his legs so they felt more like shorts. He didn’t feel as comforted as he had hoped. 

“They’re new clients, a couple. They just want someone to play with Tommy, you can do it.”

“I don’t want to,” Tommy whispered, his throat thick.

“I know.”

Somehow it was so hard to admit it to Caius. But it wasn’t like he had anyone else he could confide in. Caius would tolerate a certain amount of complaining, but he had to watch his mouth and try to gauge the other man’s mood. Right now, it was just them in Tommy’s room, in the yellow haze of his old lamp.

He stared at the matted carpet while Caius dressed him, fastening him into the harness and adjusting the straps to fit him snugly. He was also put in his collar, locking the barbs under his skin.

“Do you want to see yourself in the mirror?”

“No,” Thomas answered quickly and curtly.

“What do we have to do in the bathroom?”

“Eh, Michelle wanted to take a shower, so we can do it in your bathroom. You showered?”

Tommy nodded. 

“When?”

“Um, about an hour ago.”

Caius nodded and led him to the next room.

Tommy had a small bathroom beside his room, and they had sawed a doorway into the separating wall to give him access to it. The outer bathroom door had long been locked and walled over, and he wasn’t given a door between the two rooms. 

There was only one lightbulb in the three-light strip above Tommy’s mirror, and the dim yellow glow gave the bathroom a perpetually dingy look. 

Caius pointed to the closed toilet and sat down on the tub edge beside it. Tommy pulled his skirt straight and sat on the toilet cover.

Caius fished a couple tubes from his pocket, and gripped Tommy’s jaw in one hand, positioning him like a doll to look up at him head-on.

“Close your eyes.”

It made him very nervous to look at Caius’s face, so he gladly closed his eyes. 

He felt something touch his lip and he jerked back, opening his eyes again.

“Hold still,” Caius ordered, and reached forwards to touch the applicator to his lips again. It was a little more gel-like than chapstick, and tingled like menthol.

“Does it hurt?” Caius asked, more out of curiosity than concern.

“It tingles,” Tommy said, “but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Close ‘em.”

Tommy closed his eyes again and felt something small and round start to trace his eyelids. 

“I hadn’t heard of the lip stuff before, but it’s like a tinted gloss with bee venom in it, of all things.”

His eyes were circled a few times, and then Caius pressed fingers to his eyes and rubbed them until they started to water. 

“Open.”

Tommy obeyed, and Caius studied each of his eyes carefully. He tried to look away, but it was impossible to get him out of eyesight with his face so close.

The next one Tommy recognized as a mascara wand, and it was applied in layered brush strokes until he thought his eyes had watered enough to rid him of the eyeliner.

“Stand.”

Caius stood with Tommy, and put two hands on his shoulders, guiding him to the counter and turning him to face the mirror.

“Not bad, huh?”

(…)

Tommy did look. His reddened eyes were framed with coal-black liner, a little smudged, but it looked intentional. His eyelashes looked long and separated, and his lips were full and pink. 

It had been so long since he had actually looked at himself in the mirror. His face looked pale and gaunt. He didn’t recognize himself. Caius fixed his hair with a mild smile, and Tommy stared at the stranger before him.

“You look pretty cute, actually. You can wear a hoodie for the drive. You’d better take a bathroom break before we go, unless you want to show off your new skirt at some Ohio gas station.”

Tommy winced away from his reflection and shook his head, as if to shake off the thought Caius had offered. Caius chuckled and walked back into the bedroom, leaving him there. 

“Clean yourself up. Five minutes max.”

When Tommy came out, Caius was sitting up at the head of his bed, flipping through the old book Tommy was working through for the umpteenth time. He bit back a flash of anger at the sight, the only semblance of ownership he had here  casually being violated. 

“This looks good.”

“You can borrow it if you like.”

Caius gave a little smirk and tossed it aside. 

“Let’s roll.”

~

 It was surprisingly cool out. Caius did give him a hoodie to pull on over the harness, but he still shivered while Caius unlocked the car and pushed him into the back seat. Even when it was just them on a drive, Tommy wasn’t allowed to sit up front, it was too conspicuous. 

Since only Caius was attending him, he got collared and handcuffed to the car door. As Caius got situated, he heard the gentle click of the child locks activating.

Caius let the time pass without comment as they pulled out and made the usual drive out and onto the highway. 

Tommy’s stomach hurt. It was early evening, and he hadn’t had any food since noon. He wasn’t allowed to eat for six hours prior to meeting with a client, or drink within four. They didn’t want him to puke when they did whatever they would do to him. 

About an hour in, Caius finally spoke.

“We’ve got a little over two hours left, but I’m gonna prep you now.”

Tommy leaned his head against the window, already dreading whatever would unfold..

“Tonight is a celebration, okay? Their names are Lisa and Mark, and it’s their wedding anniversary.”

Caius didn’t have to look at Tommy’s face in the rearview mirror to know his disgust and anger, but he did anyway.

“Lucky for you, they like the feisty ones. So…go hog wild, I guess.”

(Lucky. Sam said something similar the other week. He could laugh if it didn't taste so goddamn bitter.)

“I’m gonna need you to put on a little show. Struggle a little, be a brat all you like, the works. But if you bring about any harm to them, if you so much as raise a hand, I will drop you.”

“What the fuck? They get off on me not wanting to play their game?!”

“Yeah, they do, and you’re going to play along. You’ve got two hours to get over it.”

Tommy was fuming. Caius spoke to him like a petulant child, as if he wasn’t a grown man being told to behave for his torturers. The feeling was so overwhelming while he was unable to do anything about it, and he struggled to separate himself from his impotent fury. 

He shifted in the handcuffs, twisting his hands to grab the short chain looped through the inner handle. He grasped it as tight as he could and pulled. He knew the handle would never budge, but it felt good to strain and feel like he was trying something, anything. He held his breath and pulled until his arms were burning and his hands throbbed intensely where they were wrapped in the chain. 

He finally relaxed and let go, slumping down in his seat while the blood started to rush back into his fingers. He tried to catch his breath evenly and quietly so Caius wouldn’t accuse him of throwing a fit. Every time the helplessness welled in his chest, he held his breath and pulled, until he was tired and hungry enough to doze off. 

                                                                 ~

When the car rolled to a stop, Tommy was gripped with a renewed sense of doom. The walk from the car always felt like walking the plank. 

(Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4…)

Caius rolled down Tommy’s window, got out of the car and stretched.

(Hold it in 1, 2, 3, 4…)

Caius reached through the window to unlock Tommy’s cuffs, and pulled him out of the car.

(Breathe out 1, 2, 3, 4…)

His handcuffs are locked again, pinning his wrists together behind his back.

(Hold, 2, 3, 4…)

Caius guided him up to the door with a hand on his shoulder.

Tommy’s heart was pounding. Caius reached for the doorbell.

“Wait, wait.” He couldn’t put a hand out to stop him, but he took a small step into Caius’s space, and it surprised him enough to hesitate. He forced himself to look into Caius’s eyes, desperate to find some connection there.

“Please. Please don’t do this. We can get back in the car. We can just go home.”

He hated how small and pathetic his voice sounded when he begged. His throat grew thick as he began to tear up with desperation.

Caius had never heard Tommy call their place “home” before, only “the house”. 

“Tommy.”

“Please Caius, please, just this once, please don’t make me go in there!”

Caius sighed.

“I can’t deal with the pain, the- the humiliation, this stupid outfit, I-”

“Tommy.” Caius silenced him with a thumb to his lips, his hands cradling his face, holding his gaze.

He spoke gently, softly, as if explaining something to a child.

“We sold your dignity five years ago. You have nothing left.”

The grief stuck in Tommy’s throat, rendering him unable to speak.

Caius reached out and pushed the doorbell with finality.

[gh-woah-st]

Kitty Dew Tidbits

Some important little things @sphylor, @divine-misfortune, and I have said that probably won't make its way into a post on its own.

This got long so there's a second post with puppy Mountain here

So Sphy did end up talking about the hats thing but I had already compiled this list so instead have some pictures of kitty Dew's hats

Also mentioned in that post is the shark onesie, which kitty Dew LOVES. It was originally Rain's so it's a bit big on him, but that makes it even more perfect because it smells like Rain and the sleeves are long enough to flap around

This one is a direct copy and paste because no summary will capture it correctly

Rain does that thing where he'll stick his tongue out a little when he's focused and Dew always mirrors it "oh its time for bleps now? ok!!" Rain: :p Dew: :p

Dew is captivated by videos of birds at bird feeders and sits as close to the TV as possible to bap at the birds

(one time they had to replace the TV because he tried to pounce on a bird and broke it)

(The first time he saw a bird outside the window he nearly got a concussion by pouncing at it head on)

Rain and Dew also sometimes watch ocean documentaries in bed on Rain's laptop, and Rain has to keep his arms around Dew to keep him from trying to attack the fish. Maybe also to hold a cuddly kitty, but mostly to keep him from pouncing... definitely

Speaking of sleepy kitty Dew, he has a very specific bedtime and if he and Rain aren't cuddled up in bed by that time he will meow incessantly at Rain, even herding him to their room if he's tired enough or Rain takes too long

He also never sleeps normally. There's a shared photo album with all the ghouls specifically for pictures of Dew in the oddest, most uncomfortable looking positions ever. Conversations in which Rain says "idk, I've gotten used to it" or Dew says "ooohh. So that's why my back hurts so much" are very common

He likes to sit in freshly made laundry, just napping the day away. It's warm and smells like his pack, so why wouldn't he nap there?

Every once in a while, really just often enough for it to not lose its novelty, if someone accidentally runs into kitty Dew, someone else will recite the Miette post for Dew

That's normally only when Dew didn't even notice he was bonked into. When he does, he puts on the biggest show of being hurt for attention, kisses, and cuddles. He does that every time he falls over, plays too hard, or anything else that could "hurt" him. If they had to pay infirmary bills Dew would be the cause for all of them from that alone.

Every time he goes outside, kitty Dew finds a rock to add to his collection. These rocks range from a piece of sidewalk that chipped off to something actually beautiful, and they are equally important

He also likes to steal buttons off people's clothes without them noticing. He stashes them under his bed, then after a while (when he remembers about the stash) Dew will put them in a box specifically for his buttons

The abbey only has door knobs, which kitty Dew can't figure out how to use, so Rain installed a handle for their bedroom door

"How to interact with Kitty Dew," a guide for new kids (Phantom)

1. Actually get close to him and let him cuddle up to you 2. He likes being scratched behind his horns 3. If you can't tell what he wants just sit or lay down and let him curl up to you, entertain himself, or direct you to what he wants 4. If he stretches to expose his belly this is NOT an invitation to pet him there. It is actually a dastardly trap (Proof: Swiss has scars) 5. DO NOT upset him you might actually die 6. Stop tensing up whenever he goes near you he's literally a cat what is he actually going to do 7. He really likes trying to catch your tail if you swish it across the floor 8. You gotta let him catch your tail eventually though otherwise he'll get stressed and WILL bite you. Also make sure to give him lots of praise when he catches it 9. Do not give him caffeine. He will get zoomies² and you will move up on Rain's hit list (Proof: Swiss has scars from that too)

He tried to fight the tinsel on the Christmas tree once. He was found with the smuggest face and tinsel everywhere on him

If he's feeling extra silly he likes to roly poly around (links to twitter)

Dew constantly bonks Rain's mouth to ask for kisses then just looks up at him expectantly. After he gets his kiss he holds little mousey out so it can get a kiss too

Sometimes when Rain goes to kiss Dew he will lightly bite Rain's nose instead, giggling like crazy when he pulls back

Rain reads to kitty Dew a lot. Mostly kids chapter books so that Dew can follow along

Rain often wakes up to kitty Dew staring at him, inches away from his face

Though if Dew gets tired of waiting for Rain to wake up, he'll start playing with Rain's plushes and slowly start batting them closer and closer to Rain's face to "accidentally" wake him up

Sometimes when Dew plays with his toys he makes quiet chirping sounds to himself, like he's talking to them or making them talk

Mountain going puppy triggers Dew's kitty brain and vice versa. This causes a lot of problems when one of them has work to do

[jiminzfilter]

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

:(

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

[constancelaufeydottir]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Armin having a crush on you while you're dating Eren pt.3

{ Armin x reader, Eren x reader | suggestive | tw:possessive behaviour, tw:unhealthy-friendships, tw:toxic, tw:jealousy | angst, drama, pinning | modern }

{ "the stranded ship" 1843 by Asher Brown Durand 1796 - 1886 }

The anniversary of your first meeting was coming soon, an entire year since you stumbled into his life by mere accident.

Armin would've never guessed bumping into you outside the library would've had such an impact, and what a beautiful accident it was.

And now, an entire year later he can see clearly why you stole his heart.

He found in you what he lacked, things he desired and admired for so long, things that made him feel at ease.

Things he oh so desperately wanted.

Just your mention would make his mood better, the thought of you making the sky seem a bit brighter and the world not so dim anymore.

He was smitten and he knew it, after all how could he deny it.

especially since he's read about it in a hundred different books, the stories of those similarly struck by cupid's bow as they got high on love alone.

Watched it in tens of tv shows, people falling for each other, struggling to get together despite the world pulling them apart.

And as much as others would scoff and turn their noses at these things, calling it a mere fantasy, he couldn't deny how much deep down he hoped for it.

Maybe he was just too romantic with his head swimming in the clouds, maybe he was too eager and hopeful for a connection.

But he swore he could see it clear as day, see the both of you falling in love.

At that time, he could recite how it would go as if it was a movie playing in his mind just as he fell asleep, dreaming about a soon-to-be-real fantasy each night.

He's willing to put in the effort, you're worth the work after all.

And so he began making subtle moves, showing interest in small ways, bit by bit till he got bolder day by day.

As far as anyone could tell, you seemed to be on board.

But Armin was never sure, he didn't want to mess this up and make a move that might make you pull away.

He wasn't looking for a nonchalant sure from you, he was looking for an enthusiastic yes.

Which is why he took his sweet time getting closer, strategically considering every move and step, making plans for dates and backup plans if plan A failed.

He was giving his all, squeezing his brain for all it's worth as he analysed every move.

It's just that he didn't want to mess this up.

As if.

Fate had it's way as always, maybe he just cared so much about the tiny details that he was blind to the big signs, for how could he notice the sun if he was too busy studying the grains of sand.

Or maybe, pushing all that philosophical bullshit aside, he just waited too long.

You also made your moves but he didn't seem to respond in a clear way, not fully showing interest since he was too lost in his own mind.

Did you feel like he was subtly rejecting you? Did you feel like he was attempting to push you in the friendzone? 

He can't know how you felt, and whatever it was it must have been why you didn't hesitate to say yes to the next person who asked you out.

Which just happened to be Eren.

Thinking back to how it all fell apart, Armin would curse his past naive self for simply standing aside, without making an attempt to stop it as he watched Eren integrate himself into your life.

At the time he thought he was being the bigger person, a good friend to someone he brought he could trust.

He thought life couldn't be that cruel, in the end his hard word should pay off as you realise you belong with him right?

Ha!

Ha…No.

How could he have been so blind and stupid?

It's been a year since you've known Armin but it's been 9 months since you've been dating Eren.

He went through it all, becoming well acquainted with the stages of grief.

But he's fed up honestly.

He swears he could almost lose his mind if he saw another video of you on Eren’s Instagram story.

The other proudly showing you off in his arms, knowing exactly what he's doing.

And so Armin decided enough is enough, he's taking back what he lost, what rightfully should've been his and screw being a good friend.

He knew he can't just barge into your apartment, confess his undying love and ride into the sunset with you smitten in his arms.

Unless he wanted a restraining order.

What does he want most?

You of course.

What is he best at?

...being subtle.

It's what got him into this mess in the first place, and so it will be his saving grace.

A good morning text a day, nothing more or less, simple yet effective.

And that, turning into him checking on you throughout the day, you know casual stuff.

Did you eat? How did that project go? It's raining, did you take an umbrella ?

Slowly, day by day your conversations will grow as you get used to him being a part of your daily routine.

And that's when he turns it up a notch, maybe you'd like to meet at the nearby park? Or grab some coffee in the morning?

You need a friend to shop with? Yeah he's free and he would even carry your bags

...or well attempt to, cut him some slack you know he isn't that strong yet is trying his best.

Maybe, after some weeks of you falling back into the routine of meeting up with him, he could invite you over again.

Just like the good old times.

Of course he'd never tell you the reason he stopped visiting your place was because he couldn't stand seeing Eren’s clothes scattered around.

All you'll hear is that he feels the most comfortable at his own place, he even prepared some lunch and made freshly squeezed juice! You wouldn't say no to him after all the effort he did would you?

Yeah...you couldn't, that's exactly why he made sure only to ask you to come over after he finished preparing everything. 

You're a good person, you wouldn't want his work to go to waste would you? You wouldn't do that to him.

The small lunch you agreed on, soon enough turned into watching tv together.

Oh wow the show he picked is so good, and each episode ends in a cliffhanger, lucky he has all episodes on Netflix so you wouldn't mind watching them all now would you?

Let's just turn autoplay on and not pay attention to how each episode is an hour long.

The next thing you know, it's dark outside and you're yawning while hugging a blanket close on the couch.

Your phone was in the other room, it's 11pm and you have 5 missed calls from Eren at different hours.

Armin would assure you that it's just Eren being Eren, you should just send a text back later.

And aren't you hungry? How about you and him go make midnight dinner and think about these stuff later.

After you have your food, you realise it's too late to go home.

Not to mention Armin's words about how dangerous it is to walk alone this late aren't exactly helping.

Of course he's quick to apologise, claiming he's just...worried about you, why don't you stay over instead?

He even has some fresh towels and blankets.

Why?...uh no reason, laundry day just happened to be yesterday so that's why.

And for a single day, he gets to wake up to you first thing in the morning, to see the way the sun would fall on your face as he opened the curtains.

The way he gets to tuck you in and adjust the blanket before he goes to make breakfast, no way he's not spoiling you rotten while he has you in his bed.

You'd be sleeping soundly one minute and the next gently stirred awake to the delicious smell of pancakes.

Armin's smiling face, as he murmurs a good morning in his sleepy voice.

God he wishes he can stay in this moment forever.

But, Armin knows exactly what he's doing, he's 100% self aware.

Maybe that's why he doesn't feel bad when reassuring you that it's still too early to leave, and how about you help him move some boxes to the closet instead?

Oh! What's that? You found an old book in one of them, how bizarre, not to mention it's the one that inspired your favourite movie.

You wouldn't mind him reading you some lines would you?

But he doesn't wanna spoil the details for you, there's a lot of extra content the movie left out.

So how about this instead, forget the boxes, you and him should go back in bed and let him read you the book.

Why would he be the one reading? Because his storytelling is good and you know it, soon enough you'll find yourself entranced by the story as the outer world blurs out into a haze.

Time flies by quickly, because he's such a natural at it and so it's the afternoon when the doorbell rings, bringing you back to reality.

It's Eren, coming to pick you up because you weren't answering your phone.

After you leave, and his little play pretend date ends, he's taken back to the cold truth that no matter what, you will go back home to Eren by then end of the day.

Never him.

Well, not for long.

...

The car ride back home with Eren was...uncomfortable in a way.

His grip too tight on the steering wheel, shoulders too stiff and narrowed eyes glancing at you every once.

And yet he didn't say much, only answering your attempt at starting a conversation with a single word or a hum.

Maybe he was too lost in his own mind, making connections to how Armin seemed to he inviting you places more and more

How each time you come back much later than promised

But the thing that bothered him to the core, was the fact you'd just spend the night at Armin's place with no warning beforehand.

Eren has been trying to convince you to move into his apartment for what seemed like forever, and each time you'd refuse saying you needed your privacy and yet you'd just go and stay over at another guy's house like it's nothing 

He wanted to scream, he was fuming inside.

This isn't the only thing that got on his nerves, it's how your phone never seemed to shut up, one text notification after the other and even at the earliest hours of the day.

And for some reason you'd open the phone with a smile, never ignoring any of them because it's too rude to ignore a text.

Then why the fuck didn't you pick up his calls.

He had an idea on who has been texting you, he's not stupid.

He can't even count the amount of times he almost clocked out of work or canceled his plans last minute just because you called saying you're going out with Armin for the day.

Just the idea of you alone with someone else in some secluded area made him want to drop everything and go after you.

He's been attempting to get you closer to his mother, just to show how serious he was about you.

And maybe to show you off to her, but he would never admit it that he takes pride in flaunting you around in front of his family.

Carla even seemed to like you too, making you some food every once in a while, inviting you over for family dinner and including you in game nights.

It was an unspoken rule that you and Eren were an item, even if nothing was official, he made it clear to his family that it will be.

Maybe he'd even introduce you to Zeke one day, someone most of his friends don't even know he's related to.

Well the other already knows about you to be fair, it was by mere chance that you happened to call when both of them were smoking at the front porch while his mom made dinner.

Eren couldn't help the stupid grin spreading over his face when you called, almost forgetting his big brother was next to him the more he talked to you, playfully teasing.

The other observed quietly, the only acknowledgement he gave Eren was patting his back with a chuckle before going to help Carla inside.

Eren was late to dinner, having lost track of time while talking to you.

Sometimes he wonders how did it all get like this, how did he manage to get this infatuated with you.

He won't lie, he wanted to get closer to you since the day Armin brought you to hang out with their group.

His eyes wouldn't leave you, even if they did they'd soon glance back to you.

Even Jean was out of his mind that they didn't argue at all, instead Eren’s entire focus and attention was on the way you laughed each time Connie would tell a joke.

Or the way you licked your lips after Sasha offered you a bite of her food.

It wasn't until Marco asked him what's wrong that he realised he hasn't said a thing the entire time.

So he didn't waste his chance, shooting his shot right away and moving to sit beside you.

It wasn't even a full week before he asked you out, because what's the worst that could happen? If you reject him then he'd just laugh it off and attempt to get closer to you before asking you again after some months.

To his surprise, you welcomed his advances with open arms from the first time and that is what made him latch onto you even more.

He didn't expect to succeed from the first time, although it was a pleasant surprise it still made him wonder if you would've done the same to someone else.

...if you would've still said yes to someone else asking you, that it was more of being at the right place and time that made him win you over.

He knows it's irrational thinking to get irritated by imaginary scenarios that have no proof but it didn't quell his mind.

Thank fuck he snatched you first.

And what a catch you were, perfectly fitting for him as if you were specifically designed.

Your kisses could make him melt into a puddle, your touch could make him lose his breath.

He genuinely enjoyed spending time with you, just the two of you alone.

Not to mention how you are such an adorable thing too whenever you show him your hobbies or interests.

You've always given him validation without him having to ask for it, so much that he's almost addicted.

Mainly coming to you for compliments whenever he does a thing, just hugging you from behind and giving you those eyes till you've boosted his ego enough.

Maybe that's why he started clinging to you more, taking you to cheer for him whenever he went to play basketball with Jean and Reiner, even teaching you some moves just for an excuse to hold you closer from behind as you bounce the ball.

Or pulling you into his lap while playing videogames, giving you a kiss each time he wins and shamelessly asking for a prize afterwards.

Or maybe tracing his fingers up and down your thighs under the table at family dinner nights, more focused on the lining of your inner thigh than whatever story his father is telling about work 

you just...made his life better, more fun and so full of colour.

He could see something coming out of this relationship, a burred future but a future nonetheless.

Now with his face softened, he glanced at you again, meeting your gaze.

One of his hands left the wheel, taking your hand instead and giving it a small squeeze.

A silent apology maybe? Or was it to reassure himself that you're still with him.

That's exactly why things like these get a strong reaction from him, it's not that he doesn't trust you, it's that he doesn't trust the world around you.

Mostly because he knows Armin, more than anyone else, hell even more than Mikasa.

He has known him since kindergarten, and while Armin never picks up a fight, he never runs  away from one.

Eren isn't delusioned with the awkward and innocent front everyone else thinks of Armin, he fucking knows what he's capable of.

And he knows the second he lets his guard down, Armin wouldn't bat an eye before using it to get closer to you.

The worst mistake someone could ever do is underestimate his friend

[mandoalorian]

Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

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[dreamescapeswriting]

Enjoying Your Company~ JHS [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

PAIRING: Non Idol!Hoseok x Billionaire!Fem!Reader

GENRE: Billionaire AU, angst with a fluffy ending, billionaire reader,

A/N: I hope that this is okay for you sweetie!! I’m sorry I lost the screenshot of your request but I had it written down 

Ever since you began dating Hoseok there had always been controversy surrounding your relationship because it seemed as though everyone wanted to have their opinions on your love life. Everyone seemed to be more concerned about your life than their own, giving you every thought they had about your relationship. He was just using you for your money, he didn't really love you it was all about the fame and the business that you owned. It was always the same story that you heard, even the media reported that Hoseok was using you for your money and it pissed you off. Yourself and Hoseok had met long before you came into your money and businesses as nothing more than friends. The two of you began dating three years ago and he never asked for anything, he never wanted money, he worked his own job and had even lived on his own for a while until you asked him to move in with you but none of that seemed to matter to everyone else. 

"We're just saying it might be worth getting him to sign a prenup," Your father mentioned as you sat in a conference room speaking about your upcoming marriage. Sitting at the head of the table you kept your eyes on the TV that was on the wall at the opposite end, watching the same photos glide across the screen while your parents and advisors sat around talking about what was good for your marriage. As if they had any clue of their own what was good for YOU. 

"All we're saying is that you need to think this through clearly," Your eyes slowly glanced over at your accountant who then looked down at the file in front of him. This had to be one of the longest days in recording history, you felt as though it was dragging so slowly you could have gone to sleep by now. 

"I just want to go home, to my fiance...Who's waiting for me," You groaned as you looked at all of them, each of them married with their own lives but they were more fascinated with staying there and talking about yours.

"Y/n-"

"I'm leaving," You said as you cut off your assistant, taking your coat from the coat hook in the back of the room and began walking out of the room. Your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you headed over to the elevators.

Being the CEO of a massive holding company wasn't all it was cracked out to be, it was board meetings, endless meetings with potential companies and people that wanted you to invest in them. Spending time with Hoseok at home was your only "real" break from everything that happened at work. Hoseok was never one to bother you about things that happened at work, he never tried to get you to buy the company that he worked for or invest in ideas he had, he was just Hoseok. Your Hoseok.

"Hey babe, I didn't have time to make dinner so I ordered your favourite," He called out when he heard you walking through the front door, the smell of your favourite take-away hit your senses and made your mouth water, 

"That's perfect, it's been a long day." You whined as you kicked off the heels you were wearing, slipping your bra off from under your shirt and throwing it into the washing basket as you passed it. 

"Really?" Hoseok asked in an annoyed tone as he watched you sit at the table after leaving your shoes off the shoe rack, coat on the back of the sofa and your bra on a pile of clean washing that he had done for you.

"It's been a long day, I didn't notice it was clean. No big deal," You shrugged it off but Hoseok wasn't letting this one go, he'd had a long day just like you and still came home to do the laundry and clean around the house before you came home, the least you could do was respect that.

"I had a long day too, but I still managed to clean up." He realised it was probably that seemed silly to everyone else but he was mad about it, it was always the same thing. You would come home and mess the house up expecting everyone else to clean up after you, 

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked as you stood up from the chair, raising your eyebrow as you looked at him.  

"It means I'm sick of you acting as though this is just a place you can trash and mess up and expect it to be cleaned up after you," The whole world seemed to shift under your feet as you heard him speaking this way to you, never in your whole relationship had there been a moment like this between the two of you. 

"You act as though you're the only one that cleans, I clean-"

"No. You hire people to clean for you, that's not the same." He shot back as he cut you off midsentence, finally reaching the end of his rope where everything was concerned with the house.

"Why are we even fighting about this, it means nothing." You sighed sitting back down and running your hands over your face, trying not to stress out over the fact that he was picking a fight over something so pathetic and small. 

"Because this is serious, do you think you can do this when we're married? Expect me to run around after you while you work and spend money all of the time?" You scoffed getting up so quickly that the chair knocked back and fell onto the floor. Hoseok stared at you as you folded your arms over your chest, 

"Is that what it boils down to? My money!? I'm not spending it on you so it's a problem?" He shook his head as you said that, that had nothing to do with it. He would never want you to spend money on him, 

"That’s not what I meant and you know it! Why would I have-"

"Well, you said that I'll work and spend money all of the time. Well, it's mine to do with whatever I please," You snapped cutting him off before he could even get a sentence out to you, 

"I never said that it wasn't..."

"It seems like it, it seems as though you have a problem but I'll fix it...What is it that you want? A car? Your own house? Name it and I'll buy it for you...You're just like everyone else." You stormed past him as you made your way over to the porch, wanting to go upstairs and shower but his cry of your name stopped you, 

"Just like everyone else?" He questioned with an arched eyebrow, 

"Maybe they're right, that's all anyone wants from me all of the time. Money." The door to the porch slammed as you stormed off upstairs away from him, he was left staring at the door in a daze trying to think of something he could say to you. 

"Do you really think I'm with you just for your money?" He questioned calmly as he walked into the bedroom, you were laying at the end of the bed fully dressed with a pillow over your face, trying to drown everything out. 

"Because you're a billionaire, that's the only reason I should love you?" You said nothing as he continued on his small rant, 

"Of course, you're the one that makes the most money so I'm clearly a gold-digger or someone that just wants money from you," He snapped, his voice sounding more and more strained the angrier he got at you. 

"I've never, ever! Asked you for anything, even when I was behind on rent, I made it work, not you, me!" He stared at you as you continued to lay there not looking at him, 

"I made it work because I didn't want to have this fight, I didn't want you to believe what everyone else says," He finished yelling but you still laid there, saying and doing nothing until he walked out of the room. Slowly you pulled the pillow away from your face and sat up, staring at the space where he had been standing and biting down on your lip. All you'd ever known was being used for your money, it was hard to figure out the truth.

The next morning when you woke up the bed was cold, normally it was warmed up because Hoseok was like a human radiator beside you all night but the sheets were freezing. They were made perfectly and you were asleep, fully clothed on top of the bed meaning he hadn't come back into the room all night. 

Downstairs there was no sign of him either, everything was still in its place from the night before, including the chair that had been knocked over, panic began to set in as you thought about him leaving you. You never wanted to fight like that with him, you were just stressed from the day you had. 

"Hobi...It's me, call me when you get this...I'm sorry about yesterday I don't have a real excuse just-" Your voice cracked as tears began to rush down your cheeks, 

"Just come home." You ended the voicemail before turning to look at the kitchen deciding that you were going to do what the fight had been about. Clean. Clean everything that needed cleaning as well as anything you thought might need doing. 

Hoseok came home later that night to a cold house, the lights were off and he was expecting to find everything from the night before as it was but he was surprised to see it clean. 

"Hired another service," He mumbled to himself as he hung up his coat, taking off his shoes and putting them away as he thought about how you clearly didn’t care about the fight from the night before.

"Hobi? Is that you?" He froze in place when he heard your voice calling him from upstairs, 

"Yeah...You're home early," He called back as he looked over at the clock on the porch wall, it was barely even 5:05 pm, you were never home before 9 pm if he was lucky. 

"I didn't go to work," You weren't yelling from upstairs this time, you were standing on the stairs smiling weakly at him. That was when he noticed you were dressed in one of his shirts, some shorts and had a pink apron wrapped around you, 

"Babe?" He questioned as he walked up the stairs but you ignored him, going into the bathroom as he questioned you. 

"What are you wearing-" He stopped speaking when he walked into the large bathroom to find a bath drawn, bubbles covering the water. Candles were lit up around the bathroom as well as some soft classical music playing in the background.

"I spent the day cleaning and then getting this ready...We have dinner in the oven staying warm for when we're ready to eat." You walked up to him and began rubbing his shoulders, leaving a small kiss on his chest as you stared up into his eyes, 

"I wanted to say sorry for yesterday...I never should have accused you of using me-"

"I never should have yelled at you as I did," He sighed, cupping your face in his hands and running his thumb along your cheek smiling as he held you. It was the first time in a long time that either of you had just spent time together like this, enjoying one another's company without work getting in the way. 

"I took a week off next week...I'm going to spend time at home, distance myself from work until I find someone with who I can share the workload..." He frowned as he heard you say that,

"I want to start our life...Spend more time together, plan our wedding...Our future." You twirled the diamond ring around your finger and smiled up at him, 

"You're everything I need...The business will work fine with or without me." You told him as you leant up to kiss his lips. 

"But you love working," He reminded you as if you needed reminding but you shook your head. 

"I do...But I love you more. I can take time off, I can work less if it means I get to keep you," He pulled you closer to him, kissing your lips once again. 

"You could keep me even if you worked more...I love you," He reminded you as he kissed you deeply, wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrapped yours around the back of his neck, 

"N-Now strip, we have a bath waiting for us," You ordered him as he chuckled, pulling at the apron strings behind your back. 

"Gladly," He mumbled kissing down your neck as he continued to take off your apron, along with the rest of your clothes.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @innersooya​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @justbangtanthingz​ @anxiousbobatea​ 

[thebookreader12345]

Two Becomes Three

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Summary: Christmas comes around, and Jay doesn’t think anything of it, but Y/N has a huge surprise for him that will change his life

Requested: Yes, by @lma1986

Warnings: slight descriptions of sex, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 1,417 Words

I remembered that night like it was yesterday. Jay and I had just gotten back from a party, and as soon as we got home, clothes had been taken off. I remembered his lips grazing against my skin. His hands roaming my body. The way his breath had the faint smell of alcohol. I even remembered the way I moaned out his name, and how he reacted by smirking down at me. Like I said, it was like it was yesterday, except it was 2 months ago.

I placed my hand against the window pane as I stared out the glass, taking in the weather outside. It was going to be a white Christmas this year because today was Christmas Eve, and the snow was falling at a decent rate. My eyes scanned the buildings across the street, seeing snow piled on the rooftops and on window ledges, and I smiled. Christmas had always been one of my favorite times of the year. That’s when an arm slipped around my waist, and I was suddenly in the warming embrace of my husband.

“Good morning,” Jay murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“Morning,” I reply and continue to stare out the window.

“What are you doing up so early?” Jay asked me.

I shrugged. “It’s just one of those days. You want me to make you something for breakfast?”

“I think I’m good with coffee,” Jay answered.

“Well, a fresh pot is waiting for you,” I tell him.

Jay chuckled softly and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. “You’re the best. So, what time is everyone coming over today?”

“The party starts at 5,” I say. “So please make sure you’re ready by then.”

“I will be. I promise,” Jay spoke and exited the bedroom.

“I’ve actually got to go run an errand, but I’ll be back later,” I announce to Jay from the bedroom where I was changing into some clothes.

“An errand this early in the morning?” Jay questioned.

“Maybe it’s something I’ve got to do for tonight. I’ll be back in a bit,” I state and emerge from the bedroom in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved, gray, fuzzy sweatshirt.

“All right. See you later,” Jay said and pecked my lips. After I pulled on my boots and a coat, and grabbed my things, I left the apartment and headed out front where my car was waiting. I climbed into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, and started the engine. It didn’t take long for me to get to Chicago Med, and when I walked into the ED, Will was waiting for me.

“Jay didn’t get suspicious and follow you, did he?” Will asked.

“No. I’m here alone,” I respond.

“Great. Follow me,” Will ordered and led me into one of the empty trauma rooms. The ED was practically empty today, which was weird seeing as it was Christmas Eve. Once I was inside of the room, I laid down on one of the beds as Will got the ultrasound ready. The gel was cold against my stomach, and I flinched a bit, but it didn’t bother me too much. “And here we are. You’re 2 months along,” Will said and pointed to the monitor which showed a small baby, which would soon start growing.

“I can’t believe we’ve been keeping this a secret from Jay and everyone else for the past week,” I tell Will. “I’m just excited for everyone to find out.”

Will smiled. “Jay’s going to freak out. I know because I’m freaking out, and I’m only the uncle.”

“Okay. I’ve got to get back to the apartment before Jay tracks me down. Can you print this out for me?” I ask.

“For sure,” Will replied and clicked a button on the keyboard, which printed out the small picture. I thanked Will and put the picture in my purse before giving him a hug.

“I’ll see you later, right?” I question.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tonight,” Will said. Back at home, I found Jay lounging on the couch watching TV in the dark.

“Hey babe,” Jay greeted.

“Hey. Why are you sitting in the dark? Turn on the Christmas lights or something,” I suggest and shrug off my coat.

Jay shrugged. “So where’d you have to go?”

“None of your business,” I tell him playfully and pull my boots off of my feet. “You’ll find out later.”

“Well you saying that just makes me want to know even more,” Jay pointed out as I flopped down onto the couch next to him.

“You’re not going to figure it out, and I’m not going to tell you, so you’ve just got to wait. Now, I am freezing cold from being outside, and I want to cuddle,” I say and hold out my arms. Jay laughed, but pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. The warmth from his body spread to mine, and soon I was already starting to warm up. It was hard knowing that our family would be going from two to three, and not being able to tell Jay yet, but he would find out tonight, and I couldn’t wait.

............................................

“No way. You’re lying,” Adam spoke as we all lounged around the living room. I was sitting on Jay’s lap in the arm chair, Adam and Kim were snuggled up on one end of the couch with Kevin on the other, and Will and Hailey were sitting on the soft, carpeted floor.

“I’m not. Y/N got out of the car, and right as her foot touched the ground, she slipped,” Jay said, causing everyone to laugh.

“Jay, maybe I should tell them about that one time at my parents’ house when-” 

Jay cut me off. “No. Do not talk about that. We agreed to never bring it up.”

“Well now I’ve got to hear it,” Hailey commented.

“I’ll tell you later,” I mouthed to her when Jay wasn’t looking.

“All right. Who wants some eggnog?” Jay questioned and tapped on my elbow to get me to get up for a second.

“Me,” everyone chanted, except for me.

“Y/N, do you want some?” Jay asked me.

“No thanks. I’m good,” I reply and perch on the arm of the chair.

“Are you sure? I know how much you love eggnog,” Jay disclosed.

“I’m okay,” I tell him. The reason I was declining eggnog was because it contained alcohol, and I was pregnant, so I couldn’t have alcohol. Jay, however, didn’t know that yet. After everyone had gotten their glasses of eggnog, they returned to their seats and we continued talking. Soon though, it was time for me to tell Jay about the surprise. I headed into the bedroom and grabbed the small, wrapped box from the back of the closet where I had hidden it earlier. Then, I made my way back into the living room and extended the present towards Jay.

“What’s this?” Jay asked me and took the box from my hands.

“The surprise I was telling you about earlier. I figured everyone else would want to see it too, hence the reason I waited until the party. Will and I have had this planned since last week, so please don’t make us wait any longer and open it,” I exclaim. Jay unwrapped the box and took off the lid before peaking inside.

“Are you serious?” Jay asked me, his voice laced with happiness.

“What’s in the box?” Kevin questioned. Jay reached into the box and pulled out a pair of baby shoes, which were designed to look like police cars, followed by the ultrasound picture I had gotten printed out this morning. A huge smile broke out on Jay’s face, and he set the box down before standing up to give me a hug.

“So, let me get this straight,” Jay spoke. “My brother knew that you were pregnant before I did?”

“Yes, and I was dying to tell you, but Y/N wanted me to keep it a secret,” Will responded.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Kim confessed and gave me a hug. “It’s about time we had a baby join the Intelligence family.”

“Well, you’ll all have to wait about 7 months to meet him or her, but I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait,” I respond. “Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jay murmured and pulled me in for another hug. “And thank you for making this the best Christmas ever.”

________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

[lemonmeringuecry]

The Cubs at Disneyland

Hi, so I've been trying to do this for awhile (ever since I drew Lo in a Mickey Mouse hoodie) but when the queen herself, miss Hazel, said she needs them to go to Disney... well I wrote this. And drew it. Because I'm me.

So anyway, here's the drawing and below is the fic

Tw for a couple mentions of food but I think that's it

Credit for everything @lumosinlove

Leo bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, goofy smile at full force while he waited to board the plane. He had grown up going to Disney World with his family. Living in Louisiana, Florida wasn’t too far away, and Eloise and Wyatt Knut didn’t let being adults stop them from enjoying the magic of Disney. When Leo was born, his parents were beyond excited about the prospect of going as a family, getting mickey ears, collecting pins, and making memories.

The first time he went, Leo was five, his favorite Disney movie was the lion king, and an expression of pure joy was permanent in his pale, blue eyes. Over the four days they were in the parks he got to go on rides, eat themed sweets, and meet his favorite characters.

After that first trip, Eloise started a scrap book. The book, titled ‘Disney World 2006’, was soon filled with pictures of Leo at the entrance gate, Leo with pineapple dole whip halfway to his mouth, and countless of all three of them taken by the photographers.

A favorite picture of Eloise’s was near the back, this one of her son with Simba. When Leo had spotted the cast member dressed as his favorite character, he all but threw himself at the lion costume clad employee. Leo’s mama had taken many pictures of the two lion cubs together and they were beyond adorable.

There are more scrap books from 2008, 2011, 2014, and 2017. Throughout the years of pictures Leo never looks less than ecstatic. Even though New Orleans will forever remain his favorite place in the world, Disney is a close second to home, which is why this trip with his boys is such a big deal for him.

The Lions are currently on a short break in the season after their game against the Coyotes and the cubs are going to spend a few days at Disneyland in Anaheim.

Finn reaches forward to grab Leo’s hand who is standing in line in front of him.

“Sunshine, are you excited?” He asks. Leo tilts his head around to look at his boyfriend and nods eagerly.

“We’ll take that as a yes,” logan chuckles sleepily from behind Finn where he is standing with his head resting on the red head’s back. Evidently waking up at 6:00 in the morning to drive to the airport wasn’t ideal for him.

Leo lets out a low, impatient groan, still bouncing, “I need to be there like right now. Can’t we get on the plane already?”.

“We haven’t even been waiting that long. I think they’re about to call our section though, Peanut,” Finn answers him, trying not to let his amusement show too much.

A crinkly noise cuts off Leo’s response, “Now boarding rows 1-10,” a voice says from over the loudspeaker. Leo stands up straighter and turns to his boyfriends, “that’s us!”

“I know Nutter-Butter, go on, let’s get you to Disney!” Finn says as he pats Leo’s butt lightly, moving him forward, onto the jet bridge.

The boys get settled into their seats, Finn by the window, Logan in the middle for maximum cuddles, and Leo on the aisle for the leg room. For the first half of the flight Logan sleeps while Finn and Leo share a movie, but all three boys are wide awake by the time the flight attendants come around with drinks for the second time. The rest of the flight is spent chatting about practices coming up after the break, things they need for the apartment, and what they are going to do first upon arriving.

Once getting off the plane in California, they take the shuttle from John Wayne Airport to the Disneyland hotels. They are staying in the Adventure Land tower, closest to the park. By this point all three boys are buzzing with the infectious happiness of Disney. After unpacking and getting settled into their hotel room, the cubs proceed with their plans of shopping and getting dinner in Downtown Disney. First thing on the agenda is to procure mouse ears. Logan, Finn, and Leo make their way to World of Disney in order to find the widest selection of ears. Leo has a collection of his own ears at home, including his favorite pride Minnie ears, but for this trip he wants to get new ones along with Logan and Finn. Leo and Finn decide on classic Mickey ear hats, while Logan picks out Minnie ears with a lavender bow. They all get sweatshirts too, as is custom.

After a pleasant evening of enjoying the atmosphere and getting dinner at Ralph Brennan’s Jazz Kitchen (Leo’s offense towards their attempt at Cajun cuisine is only partially a joke), they call it night. They head back to the hotel, brush their teeth, put on pajamas, and cuddle up in bed. After a busy day the three boys quickly fall asleep, full of anticipation for the day ahead.

Something you should know about Leo is that when it comes to Disney, he is hard core. Their first morning there is an early entry in Disneyland park.

“Rise and shine, party people!” Leo calls as he entera the main part of the hotel room from the bathroom. Logan and Finn are just now waking up, but they aren’t remotely tired. The pure excitement radiating off their boyfriend is contagious as well as the promise of a day of fun.

“Butter baby, how long have you been up?” Finn’s question is alarmed yet distinctly amused.

“Since 5:30,” Leo responds off-handedly. Logan and Finn share a look, then turn it on Leo. Undeterred, Leo spins slowly in a circle in order to show off his carefully constructed outfit. He is wearing his favorite light wash Levi’s, paired with the crewneck he bought yesterday (light gray with vintage looking Mickey & friends). Underneath his sweatshirt he is wearing his Pizza Planet t-shirt, ready for when it gets hot later. Leo’s outfit is accessorized with his new Mickey ear hat, white air Jordan 1’s, and his Tinker Bell lanyard filled with pins from over the years.

“These things take time! Now y’all go get dressed, we have to be in line by 6:45,” Leo says. With that both Finn and Logan get out of bed and into their clothes in record time. On their way out of the room, they pick up their ears and backpacks from the desk by the TV.

After a brief stop at the Starbucks in Downtown Disney, the boys make it into the que of people lining up at the entrance gate. Once 7:00 hits, the lines start to move into the park. As Logan, Finn, and Leo enter, they gaze around in awe. At the end of Mainstreet sits Sleeping Beauty’s castle, tall and glorious. They walk hand in hand down the lane of colorful, old fashioned buildings, chatting excitedly about what to do first.

“Alright babes, what’s up on the agenda?” Finn asks.

“I don’t even know the options, what do you say Le?” Logan continues.

They end up heading over to Tomorrow Land first. They go on Star Tours and Space Mountain while the lines are short, then bounce around Fantasy land as they make their way across the park. Around 8:30 all three boys start to get hungry so they grab a bag or two of beignets from New Orleans Square. After breakfast, they hit their favorites in Adventure land (Finn fucking loves Indiana Jones), Frontier Land (Big Thunder Mountain Railroad is a fan favorite), and New Orleans Square (Logan might not stop singing ‘Yo Ho a Pirate’s Life for Me’ for weeks).

Around noon the cubs exit Disneyland Park and walk across to California Adventure. After lunch at Wine Country Trattoria the boys bop around Cars Land, Hollywood Land, Pacific Warf and Grizzly Peak. The lines are a lot longer now that it’s afternoon, so they take it in stride and spend their waiting time talking, cuddling, and playing games. They end up going on almost every ride as well as hitting the extra good ones twice like Incredicoaster and Guardians of the Galaxy (still a fan-fucking-tastic ride but Leo misses the Twilight Zone theme).

By the time they finish up in California Adventure for the day, it’s almost time for Fantasmic, and Leo has yet to tell his boys that he got them reserved seats. The cubs meander back to Disneyland but when they start to near Frontier Land Finn picks up the pace.

“Sweetheart, what’s the hurry?” Leo asks with a knowing smile.

“I wanna get good seats for Fantasmic, I haven’t seen it since I was little!” Finn replies.

“Orgasmic? I like the sound of that,” Logan slides in with a smirk.

“Baby, no!” His boyfriends exclaim at the same time. Logan giggles which gets Leo and Finn laughing as well.

“And Finn, I got us seat reservations for the show so no need to rush,” Leo tells him. Finn’s response is to jump on Leo with a fierce hug and a drawn out “Yay,”.

The cubs enjoy the water show immensely, all snuggled up and bundled in sweatshirts once again to fend off the cool evening air. They point out little details to each other with intertwined hands and gasp aloud at the pretty fireworks. Once Fantasmic is over they do a few more rides, then head back to the hotel, sleepy after a full day. The boys fall asleep quickly again, ready to do it all again the next day.

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 6

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, bunny!Hybrid!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, leopard!Hybrid!Jin x human!female!oc, JK x female!oc x Jin

[warnings]

Describing of injuries, mentions of suffering, mentions of former abuse, traumatized Jin, angst, crying

[words]

4.4k

[author]

I hope you all have an amazing Sunday today! I am still stuck in my exam period, but fortunately it will be over soon🙏🏼

If you are interested in a Jimin!Hybrid Story, I can highly recommend you to read Inferiority complex written by the cutest author ever @starlightauroras-main! Please, check out her profile and leave her a lot of likes and motivating comments. She deserves it so much!

Also, check out the the other profiles that inspired me to write my own story. You will find the links to their profiles below this chapter.

If you have an other recommendations or criticism for me, I am always open for it!

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 5 ||| chapter 7]

“Now, if you press this button the camera will snap a photo.” She explained to Jungkook, who was staring at the smart phone in her hand.

“A photo.” He just whispered to himself, before he carefully took the small piece of metal out of the girl’s hand.

He turned the phone in all direction, slide his fingers over it and even lifted it up towards his nose to sniff it. His eyebrows cocked up, before he let it sink down again. Carefully, he tipped his finger right in the middle of the touchscreen. When nothing happened, he looked confused and turned it again, before he suddenly began to shake it up and down wildly in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey!” The girl laughed, as she tried to stop his moving arm. “Be careful, Jungkook. It’s really breakable. If you want to take a picture, you have to press here. Look.”

The girl took the phone back and stood up from the couch. She kneeled herself in front of the bunny Hybrid, who was once again looking at her with wide eyes.

“Say cheeeessseeee.” She said in hight voice, hoping that he would smile for her.

Of course he didn’t smile. In fact, his confused eyes flickered to his right side, trying to get an answer from his brother, who was sitting at the very end of the couch to Jungkook’s right side. He was looking up from the book he had asked for permission to read earlier, his face showed the same confusedness as Jungkook’s face.

When Jungkook had showed him the girl’s book shelf earlier, his eyes had caught the colourful cover of the big cookbook which she got from her mom when she moved into her very first apartment. He hadn’t exactly asked her to read it, but the girl had seen the way his eyes had moved over towards the bookshelf from time to time, like he was bursting with curiousness.

When she had told him, that he was free to read the book whenever he would like to, he first had shaken his head, but eventually he had shyly asked her again while the three of them were sitting on the couch. Since then, he had been sitting accurately at the end of the sofa, completely absorbed in the pages of the book.

“Jungkook!” She tried to get the boy’s attention back. “Just smile at the camera.”

Jungkook ripped his eyes away from his brother. When his eyes met with the girl’s phone, he didn’t smile, though. He just kept looking confused, but really adorable at the camera.

When she was done taking some more pictures, she quickly saved it to her album, before she sat back next to the bunny, showing him the photo she had taken.

“And where do they come out?” He asked curiously, as he tried to look for something on the phone that would print out the taken picture.

The girl just laughed again. He was so innocent and adorable when he tried to understand the world around him. His curious personality seemed to suck up as much information as it could get, like he was a toddler that just needed to explore the world around him.

“My phone can’t print the picture.” She smiled at him, keeping her secret that she would give him his own picture on the wall. “But it is safe and sound on my phone, and every time you want to see it, I can show it to you.”

Jungkook didn’t look convinced at all, but after a few seconds of just staring at the girl, he shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to his note book that was still laying in his lap.

Hope shook her head. The whole day he had clued to his note book, sketching and scribbling wildly over the white pages until they were filled with thousands of lines. He didn’t even tried to play the guitar or read in his favourite book, which he did every day.

She sighed. Maybe he just had to process the previous days and that’s why he tried to organize his thought in his very own special way. She would let him.

“I will prepare dinner for us.” She said and stood, smoothing her leggings. “But first I would like to take a look at you injures, Jin. I think it is time to change the bandages. O – Of course only if you let me.”

The leopard was once again looking up from his book. The girl could see the discomfort in his eyes, as his eyes flicked to Jungkook for a moment and then back at her, before he nodded almost unnoticed.

“Okay, I will just get the first aid kit.” She turned around and got the kit from the storage, before returning at the couch.

Jungkook had laid his note book aside and was now sitting next to his brother, who had already removed his shirt. Both of them were holding hands with each other the whole time while she felt over his body.

The smaller scratches at his front were still swollen, but at least they had stopped bleeding over the day, so she could remove the bandage completely. She tossed the used bandages aside, before she carefully applied a healing salve his injures. Jin hissed in pain, as the cold gel touched his sore and sensitive skin.

“I am sorry.” The girl whispered when she saw Jin squeezing Jungkook’s hand harder. “But it will help your injures healing faster.”

After another few minutes, she was done with his front side and slowly moved towards his back, that looked much worse. Though the big scratch on his back was still covered by the bandage, the girl could make out the red stain of blood that had soaked the white material. She carefully removed it, trying hard to not hurt the poor boy more.

“This looks bad.” She whispered to herself, as she looked at his back.

“Will he be okay?” Jungkook was looking worried between his brother and the girl.

“Don’t worry, Kookie. It looks bad, but nothing we can’t fix.” She tried to give him a bit of optimism, as she weakly smile at the bunny. “It will be better from now on.”

This scratch there was the worst of all. Even if she wasn’t a doctor, she could clearly see that it was infected from all the dirt and dust that had come in contact with the open wound. Hope took the wet clothe that she had placed next to her and began to whip of the dry blood, before she applied a small amount of salve as well and wrapped it up with a new, clean bandage.

“All done.” She pulled of the used hand clothes and tossed them into the bin as well.

Jungkook helped Jin to put on a new shirt, while the girl cleaned up all the supplies she had used. When she was done, she made her way over into the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner for the three of them.

While she waited for the water to boil, her gaze fell once again onto the two Hybrids cuddling at the couch. When she had found Jungkook, she had thought that his injured wrists and knees were bad, but it was nothing in comparison to Jin’s.

She wanted so bad to believe that it was okay now, because both Hybrids were safe here, with her, but she knew that such a kind if misuse was not a single case. There were thousands of Hybrids, that weren’t as lucky as Jin and Jungkook. Hybrids, that suffered every day and absolutely no one cared about them, until it was too late.

How could she ever change something in such a cruel world?

The dinner went over the same way as the breakfast. Jin hesitated at first to eat his food, always looking at the girl to ask for permission, but eventually Jungkook managed to convince him, so he ate least at half of his plate. Afterwards, both Hybrids helped her to washed the dishes, before she announced that she would take a shower.

When she was done, she quickly brushed her hair and changed into her pyjama, before returning back into the living room. She stopped in her tracks when she stepped around the corner, while her heart swelled at the scene on the sofa.

Both boys sat on the sofa. Jungkook had laid his head onto his brothers shoulder, cuddling up close to his, while both of their bodies were half covered by the big, fluffy blanket. They had their head turned towards the TV on the wall, watching with wide eyes and open mouths how the yellow figures were running around the screen. They were so fixed on the flickering screen, that they didn’t even noticed how the girl had pulled out her phone, taking the most adorable picture of the two brothers.

She saved the photo into her special album. This would definitely be the picture that will end up at the wall.

“….And then she found me sitting in that alley.” Jin listened to every word Jungkook told him. “She took me in and gave me food and something to drink, like she gave you.”

Night had already taken over the day, and both boys were lying in the double bed in Jungkook’s room. The day had stresses Jin out more than he had ever thought.

Everything about the girl and her life overwhelmed so much, making it really hard for him to process the smallest things. In addition to that, he still felt weak and vulnerable with all the injures covering his body.

He didn’t know what the girl was planning to do with them, and it was hard for him to believe that she acted out of kindness. Humans weren’t nice. They had proven it to him more than enough times. He tried so hard to believe her act, trying to believe it for Jungkook, but he just couldn’t.

This girl…Hope…had bought him from those evil people. She had taken him and Jungkook in, given them some food and a bed to sleep, but when would they have to pay the price?

He sighed lightly and looked over at the bunny, who was still talking like a waterfall. Jungkook looked much better than the last time Jin had seen him. He wasn’t just a pale, skinny boy anymore. His cheeks were plump and full, covered by a natural shade of slight red, the fur on his ear wasn’t greasy and messy, no, it was literally shining and smooth. And when did had he gained those muscles?

He closed his eyes. All those days sitting in this cage in the basement, hoping and praying for Jungkook to be somewhere save had been a torturing for him. His owners adopted him a few years before Jungkook from Korea. They kept in locked in there, alone and scared, only getting him out when they needed him to fight some other Hybrids. But the day they brought Jungkook home, the scared looking, skinny bunny, he knew that he wanted him to have a better life.

Jungkook had been the only reason he kept fighting all those nights. If it wasn’t for him, he would had given up a long time ago.

After Jungkook had escaped that night, the punishments had been worse than before. They looked him up, kicked him or slapped him with that heavy belt. Luckily for him, the inspectors had found the doping liquid in his blood, so they blamed that on his behaviour. If they had found out the real reason he had put up that show, he would be dead by now.

“Jungkook, you know we can’t stay forever, don’t you?” He eventually whispered when the room felt silence.

It broke his heart to see Jungkook’s ears dropping, as he mentioned their parting, but he would never allowed someone to hurt his younger brother again. They had to leave before the situation would turn into a bad one, and they once again would be caught into a nightmare.

“B – But Hyung.” The bunny’s voice cracked, and Jin saw a tear forming in the corner of his eyes. “I don’t want to leave. I like it here and – “

“Jungkook.” Jin’s voice wasn’t angry or loud, as he interrupted him. “You know we can’t. She did more than enough for us. She saved you, and that’s more than I could ever ask for. But she won’t let us stay forever. Why would she? We’re nothing but a burden to her live.”

Jungkook thought for a moment. He fiddled his fingers over the soft duvet, wiggling himself deeper into the soft fabric and next to his brother.

“But she said that – that she liked having me around.” He whispered again, still staring at his fiddling fingers. “And she saved you, too. Maybe if we would ask nicely, she would allow us to stay.”

“I don’t think so, Kook.” The older one sighed slightly, pulling his brother closer into his arms, burring his nose in his hair. “She will soon start to work. She will find herself a boyfriend and then there won’t be enough space for us anymore. I am so sorry.”

Jungkook’s eyes went even wider when he mentioned the word ‘boyfriend’. Jin hadn’t missed the way the younger one talked about the girl. Jungkook saw her as his saviour.

“But – But I thought that maybe – “ He tried again, but Jin knew what he wanted to say.

“Forget it, Kook.” He stopped him in his mid-sentence. “It’s impossible. You will never be more to her than a Hybrid. And even if, what would the people think of her? They will laugh about her. Do you want the people to laugh about her?”

“No! But she wants to defend Hybrids in front of the judge.” Jungkook was desperately trying to make up a reason to not leave the girl. “She likes Hybrids.”

“But she also said that she will not earn much money.” She whispered into Jungkook’s hair. “She will struggle to have enough money for herself, how should she provide us? She will give us away at some point, Kook. It will happen, sooner or later.”

He lifted his and whipped the tear away, that had slide down the bunny’s cheek.

“But Hyung.” Jungkook seemed to accept the fact that they had to leave soon. “Can I take my book with me? It is my favourite and I want to read it again.”

“You can’t, Kook.” Jin whispered back. “There is no room for us to carry a book all the time, beside, it is her book. She will not give it away like that.”

“O – Okay Hyung.” He sniffed and buried his head into the blanket. “But when will we leave?”

“We will wait until my injures are not infected anymore. So I guess a few more days are left.” A gasp left Jungkook’s mouth, but Jin kept talking. “I met a fox Hybrid at the last fight. He told me about the circus a little bit outside the city. He is staying there, too. They are getting foot and a place to sleep. We will try to get a place to stay there.”

“But I don’t want to leave, Jin-Hyung.” Jungkook cried harder, breaking Jin’s heart with every word.

“It will be better like this.”

Jin had stayed with her and Jungkook for a few days now. He and Jungkook seemed to get closer and closer with every hour they would spend together, which is actually a good sign to see, but something has been going on with Jungkook since the day Jin had arrived.

He wasn’t the bubbly, happy boy anymore, who would be lying on the couch upside down, reading his book, or helping her preparing dinner for the three of them, like he did before. He even barely spoke to her at the dining table, which got her worried the most, because usually, he could talk like a waterfall. She barely ever say him again, because he stayed in his room with Jin, and if he was out, he sketched in his note book like crazy.

Hope didn’t say something though. Maybe he had just a bad phase right now, or it was still strange to him that he has his brother around, who also had a difficult past. She had told him several time before, that he could came to her whenever he had problem, so she hoped that he would really come to her when something bad was bothering him.

Jin was another case. He was very polite when she saw him. He would answer her questions with few words, or help her to set and reset the table, before he and Jungkook would disappear in their room. But nothing more.

She sighed. She really missed the times she and Jungkook sat on the couch together, watching the Simpsons all night long, of how they played the guitar together. She had hoped so hard the she would find such a good connection with Jin as well, but with every passing day, this wish seemed to fade away.

It was almost 5 pm, when she decided to stop working. She closed her laptop and leaned herself back in the chair she sat in. Normally, Jungkook and her would be sitting on the couch, talking about random things. She smiled at the memory, when both of them had debated for hours who the best Simpsons character was. She didn’t know that the boy could be so stubborn.

The appointment at the authority was also coming closer and closer, and she still hadn’t talked to the boys about the adoption. Maybe it would cheer Jungkook when he would hear that she wanted to adopt him and his brother. After all, he felt comfortable in her apartment.

She stood up from her chair, bundling all her braveness to talk to the boy, when she heard a door opening.

“Oh, perfect timing you both.” She said happily, as she saw Jin walking out of the room, followed by Jungkook. “I wanted to talk to you. Can you take a – Jungkook? Are you crying?”

The bunny didn’t reply. He just kept his head down and tried to hide behind his older brother. The sound of his whimpers filled the room. What was going on here? First, he started behaving strangely, and now he was crying heavily, something bad was going on here, and she didn’t like the way it went.

“Jungkook, what happened?” Are you okay?” She tried to take a step forward, wanting to comfort the boy, but Jin stopped her.

“We are very thankful for everything you did for me and my brother, Ms. Hope.” He politely bowed his head, before he turned around, nudging Jungkook’s arm slightly. “Come on.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, before he dropped his ears. Her heart broke when his swollen eyes looked up at hers. He had clutched his favourite book tightly to his chest, before he turned his head around, looking at Jin. Jin just nodded sadly.

“What is going on? You are scaring me guys.” She tried to make a joke, hoping that this situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Jungkook, however, sniffed again, before he stretched his arms out, holding the book out towards her. He didn’t looked into her eyes.

“Oh Kookie.” She sighed. “If it’s about the book, you can keep it. I don’t want it back.”

The bunny just shook his hand and pushed the book more forward, until she finally took it from.

“Okay, we will leave now. Thank you again for anything.” Jin suddenly said, laying a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and pushing him towards the front door.

It took the girl a while to finally process the situation. This situation wasn’t just bad, this was a farewell. The two Hybrids wanted to leave her…forever. Her mind was racing with questions. Why would they want to leave all the sudden? Did she make them feel uncomfortable in some way?

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” She pushed her feet into the ground, running over to the door and blocking it, before Jin could grab the handle. “You can’t just leave. Why would you leave all the sudden? Did I make you feel uncomfortable? Where you want to go? It’s not safe for you to be out there alone.”

Panic filled her voice and her heart began to beat faster. This was not liked she had planned to the day to end. She felt her eyes swelling up with tears, as she realized that they were serious.

“We don’t want to pull you down, that’s why we are leaving.” Jin said calmly, before he bowed gain. “We are very thankful for all your efforts, though.”

“Okay guys, let’s not rush this, okay?” Her eyes flicked between Jungkook, who was still sniffing and not looking up at her, and Jin, who locked at the girl confused. “First of all, you have never been a burden to me in any kind. Neither you Jin, nor Jungkook. I know that you are scared that I will hurt you at some point, and I know that those people threatened you badly, but I am not like this. How could I ever hurt you? I know that haven’t known each other for long, especially not the both of us, Jin. But I want you to know that those 4 week were one of the most happiest weeks I have had in a very long time. Since I can think, all the people I care about left me. My father, my mother, my friends. They all left me without a reason, not even saying goodbye. I thought that I was meant to be alone, but since I took Jungkook in that night, my live became happy again. He made me happy. And I didn’t save you, Jin, because I had to, I saved you because I care about you and Jungkook. I just – I can’t force you to stay with me, and – and if you really want to leave I won’t be the one to stop you, but I am begging you to think about it again. Please.”

The room was left in silence after she had stopped speaking. No on, especially not the two Hybrids knew what to say or what to do.

“I don’t want to leave.” Jungkook suddenly cried.

He made a few steps forward and just threw himself into the girl’s arms. He buried his face into her neck, with his arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. The girl wrapped her arms around the bunny, softly driving her hands through his deep brown hair, whispering sweet words into his ear.

They stayed like this for several minutes, until Jungkook pulled away from the girl. She took his face in her hands and softly whipped the tears away from his wet cheeks, before pressing a short kiss onto the top of his nose.

“Do you really care for us?” She moved her eyes away from Jungkook in front of her. “You really care for us enough that you let us stay with you without any conditions? What will the people think about you when – “

“I never cared about other people’s opinion about me.” She quickly interrupted him. “They can think about me whatever they want to think. Only I know what is true and what is false about my life, and only I decide who I want to have in my life or not. You and Jungkook, you deserve so much more than to be treatened like animals. I know that I can’t offer you much, but I want to try to give you the life you deserve, a life love and safety. I am begging you to give me another chance. Give me a chance, and if you want to leave after that again, I won’t stop you.”

Jin’s gaze dropped to the ground, his ears sinking down. Hope knew what for a hard decision he had to make, and she knew that he didn’t decide whether it was good for him or not, but if it was good for Jungkook or not.

“I – “ She coughed, not knowing if her idea would make the situation better or worse. “I actually wanted to ask you something earlier. When I bought you, Jin, from those people, I had to sign some adoption papers, so I can legally take you with me, but I still haven’t changed your owner status at the authority, wanting to let the choice to you, whether you want to stay or not. I also wanted to ask Jungkook, if he would be okay with me adopting him, once I am at the authority.”

Both Hybrids were staring at the small girl with their eyes open.

“Are you really serious?” Jungkook eye’s seemed to pop out of his head, sparkling brightly.

He hugged the girl again, while Jin just looked with wide and teary eyes at the girl.

“Can you promise us, that you will never hurt us in any way?” Jin had the tears standing in his eyes.

“I – no I can’t.” She whispered, knowing that any other answer would be a lie. “I can’t promise you that everything is going to be perfect, and I can’t promise you that I will always make the right decision. But I can promise you that I will never leave you, and that you will always find a friend in me, don’t matter what will happen in the future.”

Jin kept looking at the girl, not saying anything.

“Hyung.” Jungkook turned back towards his brother, taking his hand in his. “Please, let us stay with Hope. Please. I don’t want to live on the streets again, not knowing what will happen next. I am so scared.”

Jin’s eyes flicked between the girl and his brother. Anything he ever wanted was for his brother to be safe. The girl made him happy, he saw it too. But the fear, that at some point she will change her mind and break his heart was still sitting in his bones. Never again, he would let anyone hurt Jungkook again.

But then, she had never showed any hints that she wanted to hurt them. Should they really take the risk and stay with this human for the rest of their lives? He had no clue.

“We will – “ He looked into the begging eyes of his brother. “Okay. We will stay.”

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Aaron Hotchner / August Part I

Request: Hotch and reader become unlikely friends after a broken doorknob brings them together, and maybe start to feel something a little more? (College AU) 

Word Count: 8,224

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, mentions of Hotch’s dad and difficult home life, Haley being jealous, a kiss (*gasp*), 

He was never yours, you thought, your fingers grasping at the pen, the same hands that had held his once. You knew that, but you let him in anyway.

Into your apartment. Into your life. Into your heart. 

And then you let him go. 

Out of your apartment. Out of your life. Out of your heart. 

You signed your name, placing it on the arrangement of fresh cut white lilies, wrapped in plastic, before handing it to the florist.

But you wouldn’t now, not again. 

~~~

A knock on your door roused you from sleep. A groan on your lips, you rolled over on your bed, kicking off what remained of your thin blanket draped over you. A cool breeze rolled over you, cutting through the thick, sticky August humidity, but it wasn’t enough to lull you back to sleep. And the sharp rapping at your door certainly didn’t help. You grumbled, stuffing the pillow over your head, hoping whoever it was would take a hint. 

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Apparently not. 

You threw yourself up, face twisted in a scowl, as your eyes flickered to your clock: 12:17 AM. 

Yet another knock, and you pulled on a robe over your tank and shorts, draping it over your shoulders, “I’m coming,” you growled, and the fourth knock stopped short, and you tripped over nearly every piece of furniture in your sleep, throwing open the door, “what?” 

He blinks, his dark hair as black at the night behind him, several locks falling in front of his forehead, “Sorry, I, uh—” 

“Hotchner?” you tilt your head, crossing your arms, “what are you doing here?” 

And it’s his turn to be confused, “I’m sorry, do we—” 

He didn’t remember you — how lovely, an unwelcome interruption who doesn’t bother to learn your name. You tell him your name, and it still doesn’t register, “We’re in the same criminal justice class? The one we literally started last week?” One of two summer classes that you seriously believed that you conned into taking, all in the hopes that you would be able to finish up your degree a semester earlier. If you passed, you would be done next semester.

Red runs across his cheeks, “I’m sorry, I sit in the front, I—” 

You wave him off, while fanning yourself with your hand, “I don’t care honestly, just why? Why are you here?”

A flush climbs his neck, “I just moved in next door, and I got locked out of my apartment. The door handle is rusted over, and my roommate is out of town—” 

“And?” you rubbed at your brow, your manners didn’t exactly shine at 12 AM. 

“Could I stay with you? Just for tonight,” he held up his hands, “we have that midterm tomorrow in Crim, and I really—” 

“So you remember the midterm but not my name huh?” and the flush bridges over his nose and cheekbones, “I’m kidding Hotchner.” you scratch your head — on one hand, you didn’t want to let a stranger into your apartment, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to sleep outside his apartment, you sighed, “take the couch, but I’m locking my door, and I don’t want you disturbing me unless I’m somehow sleeping through the exam tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, I—” you wave him off, “I really appreciate—” 

“Just come in,” you yawn, stretching your tired muscles, still heavy with the sleep you were deprived of, but just like that, you felt your mind rouse, sleep deflating from your head in a slow leak, “ugh fuck.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m wide awake now,” if looks could kill, you were sure your criminal justice class would be investigating Hotchner’s murder, “I have a hard time falling back asleep once I’m awake.” 

He raises a brow, “I thought you were exhausted?” 

“Well tell that to my brain,” you groan, collapsing in an armchair, covering your face, “now I’m going to be up until 5 AM.” 

He glances at your kitchen, “How about I make us some tea?” you look up, lips twisted in a frown, “decaffeinated, if you have it?” 

“Third drawer from the left,” you snuggle into the chair, hoping to lull your brain into a false sense of sleep.

  His voice cuts through your haze, the familiar click of the gas burner, “Can I ask you something?” 

“At your own risk,” you mumble, utterly too comfortable. 

“How did you know who I was?” the sink knob squeaks as he turns it, the rush of water, the quiet hum of the water as it filled the cups he was undoubtedly rinsing now, “there must be at least fifty people in that class.” 

“You make a hell of an impression, Hotchner,” you sigh, shifting in your chair, wiping the sweat from the back of your neck, “the first day of class, you argued with the professor about his opinions about criminal justice reform and the necessity of it, or as he put it, the unessential nature of it. ” 

“Well, his opinion was wrong,” you laughed, eyes still very much shut, “his opinion wasn’t even based on facts, he was just dictating to us on his own notions—” 

“I know, and you made sure he knew that,” you finally opened your eyes when you heard the tea kettle whistle, “that’s why I remembered your name — the way he asked you for it, and the way you replied—” 

He poured the hot water into each freshly washed mug, “With hopefully with an equal amount of respect,” 

“A very minimal amount,” you propped your head up on your elbow, watching him bring over the mugs. 

“So an equal amount,” you take the mug from his hand, pressing it against your lips, warming your lips, chuckling, “I give respect to those who deserve it.” 

“And what does that mean for me?” and he smiles. 

He raises his mug, a wry smile on his lips, “Well considering you could kick me out at any point, I have the utmost respect.” 

You roll your eyes, hiding the smile on your lips by taking a sip, “Smart.” 

~~~

And you soon learned Hotchner was very smart — when he touted his 100% on the exam a week later, next to your measly 98%.

“You owe me two points, Hotchner,” you would say to him, walking back to your apartment building, the humidity as thick as a fog. You tugged at your oversized shirt, hanging loosely around your torso, but somehow still sticking to your sweaty body. You felt like a drowned rat who hadn’t even had the pleasure of being in the water, “I would have gotten your score if someone hadn’t woken me up in the middle of the night.” 

“Well, how about instead of talking the professor into giving you two points, how about a coffee instead?” he offers, hands in his pockets, “on me.” 

You grin, “It better be.” 

~~~

“FBI track?” you whistle lowly, sitting across from Hotchner in a coffee shop around the corner from your building, “some ambitions you got there, Hotchner.” 

“I aim high,” he takes a sip of his drink, “What? Can’t see me as an agent?” You shrug, your eyes flickering over his form, biting your lip — well he would look good in a suit and tie, wouldn’t he? And the vest— “What are you smiling about?” 

“Just imagining you as a G-man,” you admit, a grin on your lips, “let’s just say I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“And what high aspirations do you have?” 

“Nothing too fancy,” you stir your drink, watching the liquid swirl, “law school is the plan, hopefully eventually landing at a corporate firm and then move into the nonprofit sector.” 

“You don’t seem so excited,” you shrug. 

“Not everyone has high hopes and dreams, G-man,” and he rolls his eyes, lips pressed into a purse, unconvinced, “well I would love to be a writer, but I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” he raises an eyebrow, “or you’re too scared to try?” 

“Cute mind games, nice try,” you sigh, eyes falling to stare at your drink again, “it’s hard to believe in yourself when you’re the only one who does, and I can barely manage it.” 

He leans back in his chair, black locks falling across his forehead, “Well, how about I pick up the slack?” 

“You don’t have to say that—” 

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and you glance up, his gaze utterly paralyzing and earnest, that you almost want to believe and maybe you do just a little — otherwise that thump against your ribcage is something else — some other feeling you are not ready to contend with. But you don’t get the chance. He breaks your gaze to glance at the clock, and curses, “I have to get home. My girlfriend is going to be calling me soon.”

Your heart twists, but you ignore it, because this was enough — this moment was enough, “Yeah, get home quick. You gotta tell that girlfriend of yours about that grade of yours. Nothing is hotter than a nerd,” 

“Speaking from experience?” you scoff, and he pauses, “can we do this again sometime? This was fun.” 

It was enough, right? 

You smile, “Of course.” 

~~~

“Fucking fuck—” you hissed the shattered glass all over the floor, and the hot liquid splattered across the wood, “Shit.” you stare at the mess, cursing, stepping over the broken glass, as you pick up the shards with a cloth napkin, grabbing the broom and dustpan from the closet. 

You sweep up the mess best you can, but now before cutting your finger on a shard, “Shit, fuck,” you wrap the cloth around the wound, digging through the drawers for a bandage. Fuck your roommate for going away for the summer, and also moving everything around while digging through the apartment for their shit. You slam the last drawer shut, no bandages, but you found a dozen condoms of varying shapes and colors — not exactly useful for treating a wound. 

So either you walk down to the corner to the store with a cloth wrapped around your finger, or you could tie this cloth around your finger while you studied. 

Well, you glanced at the door, there was a third option. 

You and Hotchner had seen quite a bit of each other over the past few weeks— June bleeding into July — studying, watching TV, grabbing bad coffee after class. He was one of the only people in three years who had made you comfortable to be yourself — to admit to things you would have never dreamed of telling, without guarantee of a memory wipe (well maybe if he joined the FBI). 

What was it about him anyway? 

He opened the door, a smile pulling at his lips, before he glanced at your hand, “What happened?” 

“Cut myself on some glass, do you have a bandage neighbor?” you glanced at the door knob, “I see the landlord finally fixed your door knob, so I won’t have any more late night visits.” 

“Come in,” he herds you in, shutting the door behind him, “give me a second, I have to find the first aid kit.” 

You grip the cloth, watching him dart around the apartment, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in concentration — you particularly enjoyed the way his lower lip— no. No you could not do this. 

“You’d think a first aid kit would be easier to find,” you call after his disappearing back, “since ‘first’ is in the title.” 

“And where’s yours?” he asks, as he walks back into the living room, kit in hand, “I don’t think you’d be over here if you found yours.” 

“Ah, I like the company,” he raises an eyebrow, placing the kit beside you, “plus I don’t have to use my own bandages,” you watch him grab a paper napkin, running it under water, before returning. You reach for the cloth, but he brushes you off, taking your wrist, “you don’t have to—” 

“It’s fine,” his eyes remained concentrated, as he pulled the rag away from your finger, “it’s mostly stopped bleeding now, it’s not so deep.” 

“Really, Dr. Hotchner?” and you hissed a little as he cleaned the wound, red staining the nearly translucent tissue, “did you ever consider a career in medicine?” 

He clicked his tongue, his hand was so much bigger than yours, his touch gentle, sending warmth blooming up your body, “Biology puts me to sleep,” he raises his eyes, “no jokes. Plus,” he scrunches his face and pulls the napkin away, grimacing at the blood, “I don’t like blood.” 

You chuckle,  “Come on, Mr. FBI agent, won’t you have to deal with a lot of blood?” 

His lips twist in a line, “Actually seems like I may see you in law school,” 

You furrow your brow, “What do you mean?” he sighs, grabbing a bandage from the kit, peeling the backing off of it, “Hotchner—” 

“Law school is a safer option. I can still put bad guys away, I can be a prosecutor, and I won’t be at risk of getting shot—” 

“Bullshit,” you cross your arms, “it’s not what you want.” 

“It’s not always about me—” 

“This is your life,” you get up, and his shoulder sag, “we get one life, Hotchner — are you going to waste it doing what other people want?” 

“You’re one to talk,” he snaps, “you should be a writer, but you’re going to law school, just like me.” 

You know he’s right — you know you’re a hypocrite, but you don’t care, “Why did you change your mind?” 

Your question is quiet, but heavy — it hangs in the air, in the silence, and you feel as if you know the answer already, “I was talking to Haley,” and you hold your tongue, “it’s safer if I go to law school. It’ll be better when we start our life together.” 

“Hotchner—” 

“That’s not the only reason,” he swallows thickly, he slumps in his chair, “my father — he—” his voice broke. 

You shake your head, throat dry, “You don’t have to—” 

“He abused us,” he says quietly, “He worked a lot, and if it wasn’t for that, I…” he trailed off, glancing down, “but when he was around…” he scoffed, “nothing was good enough. No one could please him, not my mom or my brother. I never tried. He didn’t like that,” he ran his fingers across his face, flinching as if he can still remember the blows, “It wasn’t long after he gave me a black eye and broke my rib that he had shipped me off to boarding school. And I never looked back.” 

Your chest aches,“Aaron—” 

“I want a good job, and I want a good life,” his eyes are hard when he looks up, “ I don’t want to be the kind of husband that my wife isn’t happy to see. I don’t want to be the father who isn’t there. I want to give them everything I have, and if this is what it takes…” he shrugs, biting his lip. 

“I understand, I get it,” and he nods, taking your hand again to place the bandage over your cut, “But Aaron, one thing?” he smooths over the bandage with his finger, glancing up, “just don’t lose yourself along the way, okay?” 

Your fingers entangle with his, he squeezes your hand, “It’s a promise.” 

~~~

There’s a knock on the door, but you don’t bother to get up from your bed. Only twisting in the sheets, burying your head in the soft comfort of the pillow. And you hear the faint and familiar call of your name through the plaster thick walls and paper thin doors.

And you knew how this went. 

So you rolled out of bed, stalking over to the door, but instead of opening it, you frowned at it, rubbing at your forehead, “What?”

“Some way to greet someone who brought you today’s notes and assignment,” and you sigh, opening the door, plucking the assignment from his hands, tilting your head. 

“Thank you. Anything else?” 

He frowns, “What’s wrong?” you sigh, shaking your head. 

“You sure that you’re here to study criminal justice? Maybe you would be better off as a Psychology major,” you mutter, allowing him in, as you collapse on the couch in a huff. And you see him sit, waiting and watching, and you slump against the cushion, “what?” 

“Words are dangerous around you,” he shrugs, “I’m waiting for them not to be.” 

“I’m just having a bad day,” you cross your arms, words sharp, “have you ever had one before?” and then you crumple at the hurt that flashes across his face, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry — this is why I wanted to be left alone.” 

And he moves, sliding in beside you, grabbing the TV remote from the coffee table, “You up for something light?” and you furrow your brow, “or we could watch what I want to watch?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“You clearly don’t want to talk about it, but I’m not going to leave you alone,” he shifts next to you, gaze unverring from the now lit TV, casting the contours of his face in a low light, “so what are we watching?” 

He clicks on some medical drama, and you snatch the remote from him, hiding your smile from him, as your shoulder brushes his, “Not this.” 

~~~

Aaron doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, but he does. When he wakes up, the sun has already peaked over the horizon, the low hum of the TV rousing him from his sleep. And he stirs, before feeling a distinct weight on his shoulder, the mumble of his name near his ear, and fingers brushing his thigh. 

His eyes flutter open, and he realizes where he is. 

Shit. You both had fallen asleep. His neck aches as he turns to look at you, making him pay for the position the muscles were forced to contort to the night before. He glances at you, biting his lip. You snore softly against his shoulder, lips parted. A few strands of hair fall across your forehead. He brushes them back, tucking them into place. He should move. He should wake you. But he doesn’t. He watches you sleep a moment — you were so peaceful, unlike yesterday. 

There was a part of him that wished you would have told him what was wrong. Told him what was bothering you. Told him what was on your mind. Told him everything about you. 

But that was normal right? Friends always want to know everything about each other? And he would consider you a close friend, right? A friend, a good friend. Just a friend. 

You murmur his name again, under your breath, and he feels a small shiver run down his spine, as he shuts his eyes again, finding your hand and resting his on top. 

Just a few more minutes. 

~~~

“Hey Hotchner,” you knock at his door, clutching your binder to your chest, hearing only silence in return. “I wanted to give your notes back, and see you were free, open up,” still nothing, you knock harder, “come on. I know you don’t have class today, I really don’t want to go to that movie alone—” Your fist nearly collides with a person’s face as the door whips open, and you rear back, finding not Hotchner, but a very upset girl, “hi, uh—” 

“Who are you?” she crossed her arms across her petite frame, her blond hair tied in a loose pony, bangs hanging loose and framing her face. 

“Hi,” you say your name, plastering a weak smile on your lips — you weren’t used to this much hostility this quickly (usually at least took five minutes before someone hated you this much), “I’m Hotchner’s neighbor, we’re in the same criminal justice class. I wanted to return his notes and see if he was free—” 

“He’s not,” a saccharine smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, “He’s spending the weekend with me. I’m his girlfriend, Haley.” 

You nod, “He’s mentioned you before, it’s nice to meet you—” 

“And you,” her fake smile informs you that it very much has not been nice to meet you, as her eyes flicker to the bathroom, “Aaron’s busy, but I’ll let him know you dropped by—” and you open your mouth, holding the notes up, “I’ll take those. Thanks again. Bye!” 

The door shuts, as you stand mouth open, staring at the door. 

And that was Haley. 

~~~

You see Aaron the next Monday in class, as he slides in beside you, rubbing his eyes, hair askew, “What happened to you?” 

“Didn’t sleep very well last night,” he mumbles, pulling his book from his bag, and you frown, opening your mouth again, only to be interrupted by your professor. 

Class passes in a painfully slow haze as always, with one exception — Hotchner wasn’t taking notes. Usually each class he would be thoughtfully taking careful notes, while you scribbled every word the professor said, hoping your notes would be legible when needed later. But today, he wasn’t. Instead, he stared straight forward, his pen unmoving, lying flat against the page between his fingers, but he wasn’t looking at the professor. Not really anyway. His eyes were glazed over, his brow impossibly furrowed, expression twisted under a thick haze of anxiety and worry. Even when the professor adjourned the class for the day, he still sat, staring at the blank notebook page. 

“You planning to attend the next class? Heard that Immunology is a hot ticket,” and he jerks from his thoughts, blinking as he glances around the quickly emptying classroom. 

“Shit,” the expletive flies from his mouth, as he gathers his things, shoving them unceremoniously into his bag, following you out of the room as students for the next class begin to file into their unassigned assigned seats. 

He doesn’t say a word as you both schlep back to the apartment building, the only accompaniment the low buzz of flies, the too warm embrace of the sun, and the silence that hangs between the two of you, much like a funeral march. 

“Okay,” you said, standing in front of him, “what is going on?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine—” 

“So you don’t want the notes from today?” his mouth opens and closes, shaking his head, “Hotchner, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to — but I just want to know you’re okay.” 

“I’m having a bad day, you ever had one before?” he echoes your words, before a smile pulls at the corners of his lips, a heavy sigh following it, but your gaze is unwavering, “You really care, don’t you?” 

Your cheeks burn, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat, helplessly exposed, scratching at your skin under his steady gaze. You hide it under rolled eyes and a coy smile, “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?” 

Friends, just friends. Because that was all you were. That was why you cared. 

And you don’t notice the corners of his lips falling or the dimmed amusement in his eyes, “Of course,” he sighs, “I’m fine, just long distance with Haley has been hard on both of us.” 

You nod, not bothering to bring up your tension injected meeting in the hallway, “I understand, it’s tough doing long distance,” 

And you see an unreadable look cross his expression, before it’s gone in a moment, and he just sighs, “Yeah.” 

~~~

Things don’t get better. 

When Haley isn’t here, Hotchner is constantly on the phone. And when she is, you could hear the faint sound of yelling through your all too thin walls, until you chose to put on headphones to drown out the noise. 

You don’t want to hear his heart breaking anymore than he wants it broken. 

He’s quiet in class, and snapping when he’s not. He comes out less. He declines your invites. He spends most of his time on the goddamn phone. 

And it stings. 

You stare at the wall you share, the apartment feeling wholly emptier than it did at the start of summer. You glare at it, a cross between huff and a sigh filling the silence for a moment. How did Hotchner weasel himself into so deeply in his life that you felt his absence? 

Three years at this school, and you had barely made a friend. It was hard in large lecture halls and even small classrooms lined with people who were nothing like you. It was harder when you often left class right after. It was difficult to connect to people, it was difficult to get beyond small talk. But it was never difficult with Hotchner. 

Not once. 

You supposed that’s what made this so difficult. And there was nothing more to it than that — right? The question lingered in the back of your mind, an unspoken thought that did not wish to be punctuated with a question mark, but nevertheless was. 

It was stupid. It was so stupid. You lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, pulling a cushion over your face — hoping it would be enough to drown out the “evidence” your mind presented as signs of his affection — it wasn’t. 

He stayed with you that night. Like a friend would. 

He always is looking at you, longer than necessary. You’re imagining it. 

He was so gentle when you got cut. You were hurt, he was trying to help. 

He told you about his dad and about his dreams. Again, a friend? He trusted you, but it doesn’t mean he has feelings. 

He fell asleep with you on the couch. And then went back to sleep. You paused. That was one thing you couldn’t explain. 

You were awake when he had woken up, you had felt him rouse because you had already awoken yourself, his name flying from your lips without a thought when you saw him, felt his solid presence, his head resting against yours. You panicked. So you pretended to be asleep, and you felt him awake, heard his pause, felt his touch, and then felt him settle back in beside you. 

But you didn’t know why. 

It was easy to explain things away, it was simple — but nothing was simple when it was him. Nothing was easy. 

~~~

"No I'm sure, I don't want to go to the party tonight." you waved off Alex, who still followed you instead, her arms crossed. 

“You shouldn’t be waiting for him to call,” you furrow your brow, as she jerks her head toward the wall you and Hotchner shared, “you need to move on.” 

“I’m not waiting, I’m just tired, and unlike you, I haven’t had the entire summer off, and just came back after a fabulous vacation,” you cross your arms, lips pursed, but you know that she sees right through you, “just go, Alex. I’ll come to the next one I promise.” 

She sighs dramatically, shaking her head, "I'll see you tomorrow." The door shuts behind you and you groan. 

What the fuck were you doing? 

Who were you kidding? You collapsed onto your couch, facefirst into the couch cushions. You knew what the fuck you were doing — the exact thing you promised to never do, you sighed loudly into the cushion, pulling a pillow over your head — canceling any plans in hopes a guy would call. A guy — a guy with a girlfriend who he was in love with, one who didn’t give you the time of day anymore, and one who was barely a friend now. 

But still, he wasn’t just any guy was he? He was Aaron Hotchner. 

And that was the fucking problem. 

But right now, you turned your head to glance at the clock, your main problem was that you were still conscious, and that meant it was time to go to sleep. You looked to the wall you and Hotchner shared — you weren’t going anywhere tonight, that was for sure. 

~~~

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You groan, pulling the pillow over your ears, “This is a joke, right?” and again, you are stumbling out of bed, half asleep and half blind, eyes barely open, “who is it?” But a part of you knew the answer before you even asked. 

“It’s me,” Hotchner intoned, and you opened the door, frown on your lips dropping when you saw his face — even in the dark, you could see the tell tale sign of tear tracks on his cheeks, barely glistening in the dim light, “can I come in?” 

You step aside, shutting the door behind you, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, and he catches a glimpse of your hands crossed across your chest. He scrubs a hand down his face as he slumps down on your couch, “I just...broke up with Haley.” 

The words echo in your ears, as you gape at him, blinking, “You...what?” you shake the shock from your mind. He needs you right now. He needs your support. 

You slide next to him, “I’m so sorry, Hotchner, I—” the words die on your lips, as you see him stare at the floor, his gaze blank, “hey—” He finds your gaze, his eyes glassy but somehow still so steady, and your heart stutters in your chest, “It isn’t your fault.” 

He gives a bitter chuckle, “How do you know that?” 

“Because I know you,” you tuck one leg under the other, one hanging off the end of the couch, “and I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone, much less Haley, intentionally.” 

His expression is inscrutable as his eyes fall to his lap, his teeth grazing his bottom lip, and he looks back to you, “Are you sure?” 

And the question hangs in the air — words wrapped up in meaning, tucked away behind punctuation and subtext. And he’s looking at you — a look that you can’t pin down, but it makes your heart squeeze harder in your chest and your blood turns molten in your veins. Why is he looking at you like that? And why for so long? The way his eyes linger make you want to believe — makes your foolish heart want to believe — maybe, maybe there’s something more to his question, something he’s asking you without asking you. A question within a question, that only makes your head spin and butterflies bloom in your stomach. 

“Of course I am,” a statement within a statement, tentative and as unsaid as his, but the words were on your tongue like an ice cube, rapidly melting away like your hope was that maybe — maybe this was something more. But the moment is broken when he looks away, and silence encroaches once again, strangling and consuming — you have to say something, anything to break it. More than that, you needed to do something — so you said the only thing that occurred to you, “Do you want to go to a party?” 

~~~

You were surprised. 

And you weren’t sure by what more — the fact Hotchner agreed to go to a party on a weekday or the fact he was two shots ahead of you now. 

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. The blaring music shook the fraternity house to the screws and joists holding the building together. The kitchen had been set up as one giant alcohol station — bottles of every kind of cheap alcohol lining the counters and shelves, much of which Hotchner was helping himself to. 

He was pouring himself another shot, and another beer into a red cup, as you watched him, eyebrow raised. 

“Pace yourself,” you tell him over the music, as he downs another, no chaser, the chaser long forgotten, but Haley seemingly wasn’t by the melancholy scrawled across his face, “have you eaten a single thing tonight?” 

“Isn’t the point of college parties to drink?” his words are more than a little slurred, his usual crisp intonation down for the count, and his balance was barely existent at this point, swaying as he spoke. 

“To drink, not to leave in a body bag,” you say, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, and to your surprise he doesn’t brush it off — no, his hand rests over it, holding it there. His eyes flutter shut, as he leans against your hand and his, “You alright there?” your cheeks burn as his eyes open again, his gaze intense and steady, and you see something you hadn’t seen before — a look that you can’t decipher. 

“Let’s go,” he says suddenly, his hand around your wrist now, dragging you through the kitchen and the throng of people in the house. 

“Where are we going?” you call over the roar of the party, but you don’t know if he even hears you, his head still turned as he weaves through the crowd, and up the stairs, until he pulls you into an empty bedroom, the door shutting behind you. Moonlight streams in from the window beside the bed, what little light illuminating his figure in the inky black between the shutters, “Hotchner, what is—” 

“I just wanted to say sorry,” he shakes his head, sitting on the bed, gaze dropped to his feet, “sorry for pushing you away. I didn’t mean to— I didn’t want to— I just—” 

“It’s okay,” you find your way to his side, the creak of the bed beside him making him look to you, “It happens. You were going through something. I’m not mad—” 

“You’re important to me,” he shakes his head again, insistently, “I shouldn’t have— I was a fucking ass, I just—” 

“Hey, I know you’re a fucking ass,” and he scoffs, “who’s the bigger fool? The person who’s an ass or the person that’s friends with him?” 

“I always knew you were a nerd, but Star Wars, really?” he grins, elbowing you, “you are full of surprises.” 

“Takes a nerd to know a nerd,” and he leans back, palms splayed against the bed, “I am a person of many facets.” 

“I know,” he whispers, finding your gaze in the dark, “And that’s what I love about you.”

You blink, your heart stuttering in your chest, “Hotchner—” 

He leans forward, his fingers cupping your cheek, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes and back again. He’s so close, you can see his eyelashes flutter as he stares at you half-lidded, the heat from his body radiating off of him, as his chest nearly brushes yours now, “I’ve wanted— I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his words sending warmth blooming across your cheeks — his scent consumes you — pine, musk, and mint, your breath stolen by his words — ferreted away in the night that covers you both. 

“Please,” you whisper into the night, and when his lips brush yours, you wonder if it is real. Or a dream of your own design in the dark. But no, it’s real as the forehead that brushes yours after he parts a moment, “Aaron,” you sigh against him. 

Your lips find his again, noses brushing, and he lingers this time — more sure, but still hesitant. Just as hesitant as you are. He’s sweet on your lips, sliding against yours softly, his thumb brushing at your cheek, before your fingers knot themselves in his hair, deepening the kiss. You want more, you need more. And you hear him moan against your lips, a deep rumble that sends a shiver up and down your body. 

Then his tongue runs across your lips and you taste it — the alcohol on his lips, and you remember — Haley, the drinking, everything — it had been just to get over her. 

And your palms press against his chest, stopping him, his quiet pants still warming your lips, “I can’t do this.” 

You couldn’t be his rebound. Not after all of this. Not after what you felt for him, what you still felt for him. You didn’t want to be something he’d used to forget, something he’d want to forget. You couldn’t be his second choice. You deserved more. You wanted more. 

But you also wanted him. 

A moment passes, another, and he pulls back, “I understand,” he nods, “I’m sorry if—” 

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t—” you cut off, “I’m sorry if I—” 

“You didn’t,” he rises slowly to his feet, rubbing at his eyes, “let’s go home?” 

The walk home was in silence, which was somehow more eruciating than the two hour of constant, deafening music you had just endured. Your head throbbed, and whether it was from the alcohol, the music, or the night — you glanced at Hotchner — that was up for debate. Your nausea burned at your throat in time with your headache hitting a crescendo —- just not at this particular moment. 

“Good night,” were the only words he managed when he dropped you at the door, stumbling into his own apartment. And you only realize as you slide into bed that you realize you didn’t explain why you couldn’t — why you couldn’t kiss him. But with your face pressed against the cool pillow, the memory of his lips on yours lingering, and the siren song of sleep, you couldn’t dwell on it. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, the sandman’s embrace too tempting. There was always tomorrow.

~~~

Or maybe there wasn’t, you realized as you stepped out of your apartment, at least, not a tomorrow that included him. After pacing for an hour, convincing yourself to talk to him — to say something about last night — after you had re-lived that kiss a dozen times, after you practiced what you were going to say to him, and after you realized he was worth the risk. 

But you weren’t to him. 

But Haley was. 

Her lips pressed against his, right where yours were last night, her bags dropped beside their feet. His arms winded easily around her waist, comfortable and familiar, pulling her somehow impossibly closer than she already was. Her fingers cupped his cheeks, evidence of tears gliding down her cheeks. He inhales her breath, as they part, murmuring things only the other can hear, until your door bangs against its frame, still helplessly open behind you. 

Their eyes snap to you, and you have to tuck away the hurt and pain quickly — quickly, your lips somehow finding itself in a small smile, even as your heart splintered to pieces in your chest. 

His mouth opens silently, eyes painfully wide a moment, while Haley greets you with a smile, your name from her mouth painful to your ears, “It’s so nice to see you again. Aaron told me he wouldn’t have been surviving class without you.” 

Painful because you can’t hate her, painful because it isn’t her fault, painful because maybe in another life you could have been friends, painful because you had to fall for her boyfriend — “Of course,” you manage to find your voice, “someone has to keep their head on straight.”

And you had to. 

“I keep mine on,” he withers under both of your gazes, “sometimes.” His eyes linger on you a moment too long, but Haley doesn’t seem to notice, instead, stepping over her bags, and pulling you aside a moment. 

“I just wanted to apologize for how I acted before,” she shakes her head, “me and Aaron have been having a hard time lately, and I think I took it out on you — but we’re okay now. I just don’t want any bad feelings between each other because I know you’re a good friend to him.” 

Friend, the word rings in your ears, “Of course,” friend, and you wonder if your ears are bleeding by now, “we’re good. Don’t worry about it.” 

You find him unable to meet your eyes, his stare fixed on Haley instead. 

Of course. 

You were just friends after all. 

~~~

You don’t see him much after that. 

And you prefer it that way. 

There was only one more class before the final, and you arrived late, slipping into the back of the lecture hall, tucked away — out of sight. 

You left before it ended, sparing one last glance at Hotchner. 

Out of mind. 

The exam rolls around soon enough, the study period relatively short for summer courses, and you find yourself packing as you finish studying. But still, your mind drifts to him in between moments of taping up boxes and trying to remember the answers you scribbled on the back of flashcards. You would have been studying with him — he would have quizzed you while you boxed up your kitchen, he would have teased you for your barely legible chicken scratch, and he would have been here. 

But he wasn’t. You folded the flaps of yet another box down, tape gun in hand, pressing it to the lip of the box. 

Out of sight, the rip of tape across cardboard, But was he out of mind? 

~~~

“You’re moving?” he catches you moving boxes out of your place, the van you rented outside, sticking his head out of his apartment, his brow furrowed. 

“I am,” you continue down with your boxes, and he moves forward to help you, but you brush by him, heading down the stairs, “I got it, thanks.” 

But he doesn’t let you go, “I thought you still had another year left—” 

“I’m finishing a semester early,” you reply, opening up the trunk again to place the two boxes in the back, “and next semester I’m studying abroad. That’s why I did summer classes.” 

“Studying abroad?” he blinks, “when—” 

“I’m going home for two weeks, and then I’m flying to Switzerland,” the thump of the boxes is loud in his silence, as you slide them into place, “that day I wasn’t doing well— It was because I had gotten rejected from the program. My financial aid hadn’t pulled through,” you pull the trunk closed again, locking it, before brushing past him and  trudging up the stairs again, “But last week, my financial aid office helped me to find a private lender. So I’m going.” 

You hear the slow clunk of his shoes following you up, as you grab another two boxes, and you finally glance at him, finding his lips in a thin line twisted in something resembling a smile, “Congratulations, I’m really happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” you nod, bite your lip — biting back the words burning on your tongue — hauling the last two boxes into your arms. You try to slip past him again, but he grabs a box from your hands. 

“At least let me help you with this,” at least let me do this if not anything else — unspoken words lingered in the air, his fingers grazing yours as he took it, hefting it with relative ease. 

“You know, I’m happy for you too,” you say when you slide the box into place, after unlocking the trunk again. His brows knit together, and it’s not from the strain of carrying your things down the stairs, “I mean it,” and his eyes meet your gaze — you see too many emotions to pull them apart — sadness, regret, worry — and a few you don’t care to pick apart. It doesn’t matter now, “for you and Haley, it’s great you worked it out. You’re good together.” 

And you know it’s true. He’s happy, lighter than he had been for weeks, but now, his shoulders seem so heavy, weights pressed upon the corners of his lips and against his brow. 

“We are,” he shakes his head, sighing, “I just wanted to say s—” 

“We’re good,” you cut him off with a small smile, and you shut the van up, locking it. You turn back to him, only to find his lips pursed, glancing between you and the van, “I’m not leaving until tomorrow morning, so this isn’t goodbye. Can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

He chuckles, “Intent on dragging this out?” 

“I’ll never make it easy for you, Hotchner,” your hands slip into your pockets, walking back up to your apartment, adding, “but you’ll always have my respect and my friendship.” 

“I know,” he says softly, over the low buzz of the hallway fluorescents, “you’ll always have mine too,” he frowns, looking at your door and his, a question on his lips. 

“I should get to bed early,” you turn to unlock your door, “I’m leaving at 7 tomorrow.” 

“Right,” he shakes his head, stepping back, before sparing one more smile, “I’ll let you get some sleep. I should too —  you don’t mind if I say goodbye tomorrow right?” 

You shake your head, “I expect it, bright and early,” and he rolls his eyes, “Good night Hotchner.” 

“Good night,” he says your name, and even as you shut the door behind you, you love the way his mouth curls around your name — achingly and annoyingly perfect. And you remember what else he could do with those lips, how your name felt whispered against your own lips — 

And you remember who those lips would be kissing for the foreseeable future — at home, at their engagement, at their wedding. You catch yourself, heart twisting unto itself, and you had almost forgotten that it was broken — for a moment. 

And you know — you know then that you can’t say goodbye to him. 

Not in person. 

Because you wanted him still, despite it all. And wanting was enough — for a time. But now wanting only hurt because you were wanting what you would never get. You wanted him — but he was never yours to begin with, was he? 

He wasn’t yours to lose — but you did. 

And he would lose you too. 

~~~

Aaron had woken up on time. 

He woke up before his alarm went off, eyes fluttering open to sunlight streaming in his bedroom window. And he tossed off his sheets, rubbing at his eyes. 

He couldn’t be sad — he was happy for you. 

You were graduating, you were moving on, you were doing something you always wanted to do. He sat up, throwing his legs over the bed, pressing his fist to his lips, elbow digging into his thigh. He only wished he was brave enough to go after what he wanted.

What he wanted, his eyes drifted to the picture of Haley on his bedside table, did he even know what he wanted?

He slips out of bed, brewing two cups of coffee — knowing you would be on the road for quite a while. He still had some time before you were leaving.

He opens his apartment door, finding your apartment door open. The landlord pokes his head out, “Hey Hotchner, that doorknob treating you well?” 

Aaron raises an eyebrow, “It’s fine, what are you doing?” 

“Just going over to see what the damage is and if I’m going to be returning that security deposit or not,” he fussed over the clipboard in his hand, pulling the pencil from behind his ear, “looks like the apartment was in relatively good shape so guess I’ll be mailing a check.” 

“Mailing?” Aaron blinks, and the landlord tilts his head. 

“How else do you suppose I give something to a tenant who has already moved out and split?” In that moment, he brushes past him, peering into your empty apartment — the only things left were those of your roommate’s, “Left about an hour ago in a rush, couldn’t even wait for me to do my walkthrough.” 

He was on time, he was early even, he stepped downstairs to only find the truck long gone. 

But he was still too late. 

Always too late. 

~~~

But always wasn’t always forever. 

“Hey, stranger,” you nestled the phone between your cheek and your shoulder, hands full with a bread dough you were currently trying to knead for its next proof, “it’s been a long time—” 

“Did you hear?” 

“Hear what, Alex?” her voice grows quiet on the phone, “what’s wrong?” 

“You know how I’ve been organizing in preparation for the reunion in a few months?” and you lick your lips, moving to wash your hands. 

“Yeah, you told me about that and said on uncertain terms could I refuse to attend, unless I’d like to risk certain bodily harm,” you shook your head, “I didn’t forget, so is that what—” 

“It’s Haley, Haley Hotchner?” 

You pause, “Yeah Hotchner’s gi— wife?” 

“She died, just a week or two ago,” her voice falters, “I just heard about it from Paul, do you remember him? He was in your poli-sci class. He’s in the FBI too. I wanted to get Aaron’s information, and he told me it probably wasn’t a good time. And I pressed him and then….” 

“Oh my god,” you rested your back to the counter, “How did she—” 

“He didn’t get into details, but it was pretty fresh it seemed like. He’s still on leave, and the funeral is soon.” 

Your hands shook, squeezing your eyes shut as your mind returned to that summer — his smile, his laugh, his touch, his care — “When is it?” 

She says your name slowly, “Why?” 

“I have to go,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “I have to go see him.” 

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 5)

Chapter Summary: Movie nights are the best.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Warnings:+18 only, smut,  boytoy!Bucky, fingering in a room with other people in it, blow job, oral (female receiving) casual sex, opened relationship, 

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long for this one. I can’t promise it won’t happen the same with next chapter, but I sure hope not. I previously said the next chapters would be less smut, but with these two you never know… Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

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Your breathing is heavy.  

The silky slide of his tongue makes you moan, deep, and you dig your nails on his scalp, pulling his hair even harder. He groans and the vibrations hit your core. He was right the other day, you love grabbing his hair, especially when you’re on his bed and his head is between your legs first thing in the morning.

No, you haven’t slept there that night. It would be your first day in your new job position and you thought it would be best to have a good and uneventful night of sleep, free of any action that could keep you up. But the thing with good nights of sleep is they’re actually not as relaxing as Bucky Barnes’s sweet tongue and you decided you needed it before you started the day.

Good thing he lives where you work and he didn’t turn you down when you called him at that ungodly hour.  That’s how you end up there, at the verge of a morning orgasm, your skirt and underwear tossed somewhere in his bedroom and you only wearing your heels and your white blouse while he’s eating you out on his bed, butt-naked, because that’s just how he sleeps every night. 

“Oh, fucking shitballs,” you curse when he closes his lips around your clit. The throbbing little nub is swollen and aching for a release.  

He chuckles against your sensitive and wet pussy, pulling you harder against his face, deepening his fingers on your thighs. Deeply focused on his task, he flattens his tongue and laps at you.

The change of movements doesn’t go unnoticed by you, who cries out at the waves of pleasure rushing up your body. A few more talented strokes of his tongue and you lose it. You moan a loud chant of courses and your back arches as your shivering legs shut around his head and your heels cross over his back.

That’s when a huge bang breaks into your dreamy state and makes you shout and jump on the bed, your face snapping towards the loud sound.

“I fucking knew it.”

Natasha’s voice isn’t one you were expecting to hear at that moment, and it takes you a moment to understand what is happening. There is your friend, in full tactical gear, arms smugly crossed in front of her body while she stands by the door she has just kicked opened. It takes you an even longer moment to remember the position you’re in. You look down to see Bucky, smirking, peeking at her from between your thighs, his face glistening with your juices all around it.

“What the hell?” You shout, finally releasing him from the clasp of your legs and pulling the first piece of fabric you find on his bed over your exposed lower half as you swiftly drag yourself away from him.

“Does Fury need me again?” Bucky asks, completely unbothered by Nat’s presence or his nakedness… or his extremely evident hard on, you notice, when he stands up from the spot he was bent down, before jumping to lay down beside you.

Something tells you this isn’t a one-time occurrence, but it doesn’t change the fact that is happening to you and how hot your cheeks are from sheer embarrassment in getting caught in such a situation.

“Nice hair, stud,” she comments, gaining a smug expression in response, before continuing, “He needs her, actually. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way,” Natasha smirks, pointing at you and your heart rushes up to beat against your throat at the mention of Fury’s name.

“What? Holy fuck,” you curse, wrapping the sheet around you before flying out of the bed and moving to pick up your pieces of clothes tossed by the floor.

“Told you she would be here, Steve,” Natasha tilts her head to behind her shoulder.  

A low, strangled grunt comes from the living room.

That makes you halt at once as you bend down to pick your underwear. Incredibly widened eyes snap at Natasha. As your cheeks burn hotter than ever, she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, obviously holding back a mischievous laugh.

“Hey, Punk,” Bucky shouts from the bed.

“You should’ve seen his face at fucking, shitballs.” Nat bursts out in uncontained laughs, followed shortly by Bucky. 

You can’t believe it. Captain Fucking America is waiting on the next room as you pick up your clothes after he heard the mind-blowing orgasm given by his friend to you on your first day on your new job - one that will require that you’d meet with the Avenger often - and you’re as mortified as you’d ever be. You know Nat enough to know she doesn’t mean any harm by it all, and you’ll know that eventually you will laugh with her about that moment, but eventually it’s definitely not now and she’s obviously having too much fun with your misery, so a little wish for vengeance burns up inside you.

“She told me you gave her the best orgasm of her life,” you blurt out, looking at Bucky, but the underwear in your hands at her. You bolt to the bathroom right after, locking the door behind you, but not before glimpsing the outraged expression on her face.

“You damn traitor,” Natasha yells, as you rush to put yourself together inside the bathroom.

“Well, looks like we’re a good pair,” you yell back.

“Calm down, ladies…” Bucky says and you can hear the amusement in his voice, as you work to freshen up, “Don’t worry, Steve would die before acknowledge this ever happened,” he raises his voice for you to hear, as an evident attempt to soothe you, but you can’t say it’s as effective as he would expect. “And you,” you guess he’s speaking to Natasha, “like I didn’t know that already. You were very vocal at the time and seemed like you’d forgotten I understand Russian perfectly.”

As put together as you can be in that situation, dying to bolt away and having Fury waiting for your ass, you open the bathroom’s door soon enough to see Nat flipping Bucky off as he cheekily winks at her.

“Ok.” You tap your hands down your skirt to straighten the little wrinkles on the fabric, “How do I look?” you ask Natasha. The formal outfit is way different from your usual jeans and sneakers, but it’s your first day in a very important position. Dress to impress felt like the right choice.  

“Stunning.” The answer comes from both Nat and Bucky and you can only let yourself soften as they smile at each other, a clear sign of peace.

“Alright,” you nod, walking to grab your purse on the armchair next to his bed, “Ahm… thank you, Bucky,” you seriously don’t know what else you can say to him at that moment.

“Anytime, sweetheart, you know that,” he makes a reverence, before linking his hands behind his head with a very pleased tug on the corner of his lips.

You clear your throat, trying to not indulge him in a less than perfect circumstances, before turning to a too amused Natasha. 

“See you tonight?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Yeah, of course,” you sigh, all the annoyance completely gone, “Welcome back, talk to you later.” You say goodbye by placing a kiss on her cheeks.

As you rush across the living room and towards the way out, Captain Fucking America looks absolutely guilty and red as the stripes on his uniform, “I told her not to, but-“

“I know,” you sure do know how determined Natasha Romanoff can be, “Can we please never talk about it again?”

“Gladly,” he quickly answers, looking as relieved as you before you bolt out of Bucky’s apartment.

~~~

His cell phone buzzes in his pocket and he picks it up as the elevator runs up to the common floor. He’s dying for one of Wanda’s cookies, which she usually bakes at this hour for everyone. Unlocking the screen he sees the text. It’s from Olivia, asking if he has plans for that night, with a winkie emoji at the end. Emojis… he loves them, one of the best things from the future.

He's about to type the answer when the elevator doors open and he hears the sound of a movie playing loudly in the TV room. Oh, so there’s one of those movie night things going… the cookies will definitely be there.

He quickly steps towards the sound and opens the door to the dark room, meeting a few squinting expressions at the light that shines from behind him. As soon as he finds one particular scrunched face among the other ones his lips curl in a smirk and, before putting his phone back in his pocket, he types a quick reply saying he’s already got plans, the same answer he’s given to every other message he’s received those last few weeks that wasn’t from the woman greeting him with a small and discreet smile right now.

“So soon at home?” Natasha asks, munching a mouthful of popcorn. Along with her in the room are Sam, seating next to her on one of the sofas, Steve and Sharon sharing an armchair and a bowl of popcorn, Wanda  laying on some big cushions on the floor, eating one of her cookies while she, the face that got his attention and instant interest, is comfortably seating all by herself on a big and inviting sofa, cozily tucked under a blanket.

“Didn’t even go out,” Bucky shrugs, “Movie night, huh?” He peeks in, averting his gaze from her to the big screen, “And one of my favorite movies I see..” he says, having absolutely no idea which movie that is and why there’s a creepy guy talking to a ball in the middle of an island.   

“In or out, dude,” Sam throws some popcorn on him, “Shut the damn door.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky does as he says, not even engaging with Sam’s teasing. He has other things occupying his mind.

And said “other things” eyes him suspiciously as he walks towards the sofa she’s been occupying alone. He doesn’t say anything before throwing himself on the cushions, right next to her, despite all the space left. He can feel everyone’s eyes, maybe except Sam’s, lingering on him for a little too long, but it doesn’t bother him at all as he makes himself comfortable, reaching over to grab a cookie from the plate on the small table in front of him.

“Hi,” he whispers, turning to face her.   

“Hi,” she answers back with a small smile, before focusing on the movie again.  

“You don’t mind do you?” Bucky once again whispers, pulling the end of her blanket while he munches the cookie.

She eyes him for a moment and he has to hold back a laugh. She has to know where he’s going with this and if that time they’ve spent together because of their deal made him get to know her at least a bit, he bets she’ll play along with him.   

“No?” her answer comes out on a wary whisper and he doesn’t waste a second before sinking beneath her blanket, dragging himself a bit closer to her.

When he’s cozy enough, he turns to the movie again, pretending to be paying attention to the screen while she does the same. He knows it’s all a façade and she’s waiting to find out what he’s up to. He loves it. It’s only after several minutes – teasing her is always good fun – that his hand under the blanket casually navigates through the cushions and rests on her thigh.

As soon as his hand touches her skin, he senses the flinch of her body. While he shoves the last piece of cookie in his mouth, with the corner of his eyes, he catches when she glances not at him, but at the rest of the group in the room.  The fact she doesn’t bat his hand right away, encourages him to give her thigh a pointed squeeze and that’s when she shoots him a warning glare. Which he ignores, of course, in favor of letting his hand snake up her smooth skin. The small hitch of her breath doesn’t go unnoticed by him.  

He smiles to find out she’s wearing a skirt.

When his hand moves down to the soft inner part of her thigh, she shuts her legs, trapping it in place. He doesn’t look at her while he just waits… all he has to do is to wait. He can tell she’s a bit nervous as he feels her eyes on him before they turn to the others, but a light and sweet scent, which is now very familiar, teases his nostrils, ever so lightly, and he knows she’s more than up to that little game. He hopes for the other super soldier in the room to be focused enough on his girl next to him so he doesn’t catch the faint scent in the air.

He waits.

The confirmation of her true disposition comes when she slowly opens her legs and shifts on the sofa, lifting one knee up so the blanket makes a tent, making it hard for anyone to spot where his hand really lays beneath the blanket.

Bucky is then more than happy to resume his ascend until he cups her mound through the cotton of her underwear. He keeps his touch light, barely brushing her mound, noticing a little wetness pulling at the fabric and smirking. But what makes him almost lose his shit is to find out how impatiently up to his game she actually is, when she dips her hand under the blanket and guides his hand  beneath the cotton, letting his fingers rest on her clit before she removes her hand.

Goddamit, he has to hold back to not let a loud moan both at her initiative and the warm and smooth feeling on his fingers. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be spending this time and sharing moments like this with her. He has to admit that this deal he has set with her is the best thing that has happened to him in a while. Yes, he has a great deal of women he can call his friends and has been spending time with. But with her…

Bucky’s sure he has found his partner in crime.

He’s aware of the long time she’s been in a relationship and he knows the ending wasn’t that great. But in spite of that, she trusts him completely to make her feel good and not hurt her in any way, and he loves that he can do that… Make her feel good.

He starts caressing her clit, noticing how her body responds, a tiny hitch on her breathing, her lower lip between her teeth… He doesn’t want to make her wait much longer, seeing how eager she definitely is. Another thing he adores about her… she’s always up to go a bit further with him, to break some limits. He would never do anything she’s not comfortable with, but it’s addicting her willingness for more, to go beyond herself to reach the goal or finding pleasure and a good time.

Truly a partner in crime.

Her gaze remains on the screen while he fingers her under the blanket, but he can hear a particularly louder sigh as her head falls back on the sofa.

Bucky looks around but no one seems to have noticed anything, paying attention to  whatever is happening in the movie. Discreetly, he grabs a small pillow from the sofa and places it over his lap to hide how much the mission to drive her to the edge  and the wetness gathering around his fingers under the blanket are affecting him.

He has learned the way her body works enough to know she’s almost there. Also, he knows she has a thing for exposed and dangerous situations like that, the thrilling possibility of getting caught, the filthy actions in an otherwise innocent situation… Fuck if his cock isn’t aching for some attention, too…If had his way he would bent her over that couch and take her right then and there, to hell with everyone else.

Glancing at her, he spots the clenched jaw and fluttering eyelids. She comes all over his fingers without making a single noise and, damn, she turns him on so much.   

After a few more strokes to ease her down, he pulls his fingers away and, as she watches him from the corner of her eyes, he brings them to his lips, licking them deliciously as he stares at the movie. Her sweet taste makes him painfully hard beneath his jeans and that’s when she surprises him by throwing the blanket to the side and swiftly getting up.

“Are you ok?” Nat asks as all the faces snap to the woman standing up.

“Yeah, sure. Just need to go to the bathroom. No need to pause the movie, I’ll be quick,” she answers, but she doesn’t leave the room without glancing at Bucky with a small tug on the corner of her lips.

His cock twitches at it… That’s his cue, right? It has to be, or else he’ll explode right then and there. He waits a few minutes for good measure before pulling his phone from the pocket. He pretends to be reading something on the screen before clicking his tongue, “Got to go. That was fun, though, let’s do it again sometime.”

Bucky’s damn sure Natasha not for a second buys the excuse as she shoots him a knowing smirk, but the others seem to at least don’t care about him leaving - suspiciously right after her- only mumbling their goodbyes as their attention remains in the movie.

When he opens the door to the bathroom, which is only a few feet away from the tv room, he’s greeted with a pair of lips crashing against his. Responding right away to the kiss, he kicks the door shut behind him and wraps his arms around her as he relishes  the feel of her hands exploring his whole body, grabbing his muscles and flesh. Good, she’s as excited as him.

“That was fucking hot,” she says through the kiss, pulling a handful of his hair.

“Agreed,” he pants, not parting his lips from hers, “Check out how happy I was to find you here,” he grabs her hand and places it over his throbbing hard on.

She chuckles as he walks her backwards to the counter, “I’m glad I accepted Nat’s invitation to see a movie with her after dinner, then,” she pulls away just enough to say that before launching back on him, making him moan as she palms him through his jeans. “We need to do something about it, now,” she teases, parting her lips from his to drag them down his neck, adding a bit more of pressure on his cock.

“Damn straight,” he manages to say, as her mouth and her hands on him make him light in the head. Desperate to feel her, he grabs her by the waist and places her on the countertop and positions himself between her legs, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, “How was your first day as the boss?” Just the thought is enough to make his cock twitch inside the annoying confines of his pants.

“Fucking fantastic,” she answers putting a stopping hand on his chest and grabbing the one on his jeans by the pulse.

“Hey,” an embarrassing whine slips out of his lips.

“Nah-ah,” she smirks in such a mischievous way that the sight alone could result in him making a mess of his pants if he didn’t focus, “I’ve got my own tricks, too, you know?” she coos, pushing him a bit backwards before sliding down from the counter and sinking to her knees right in front of him.

Oh…

Since she just ended the possibility of any coherent thought to be formed on his mind, all there’s left for him is to let his arms fall limp on each side of his body and watch her, dumbfounded and horny as ever, as she nuzzless his dick through the jeans and swiftly work on his buttons and zipper.

His cock bobs in front of her as she pulls down his pants and underwear just enough to expose it to her. Bucky is entranced by the sight of her licking her lips before leaning over and slowly sliding her flattened tongue over the length of the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. Then his tip is engulfed by the wet and soft heat of her mouth and a strangled yet loud noise slips out of his lungs as his eyelids flutter.

“Be quiet, sweetheart,” she pulls back, making him already miss her lips around his dick. He looks down at her and she shoots a cheeky wink at him, wrapping her hand around the base and peppering sweet, torturous kisses over his length and head, smearing the leaking precum over her lips before wrapping them around him again.

Bucky is in a  complete daze as she works her lips and tongue beautifully on him, producing sloppy and enticing sounds. Surprisingly enough, after trying a lot of stuff together, that particular act hadn’t happened yet and goddammit why the hell had he waited for so long? Maybe because he’s been focusing completely on her pleasure, which can’t be considered an unselfish act at all, since giving her pleasure is insanely hot, making him get off on that easily. But, man… that woman knows what she’s doing and it’s driving him completely nuts right now.

Especially as she keeps jerking him with her hand while her lips adventures down his sack. All he sees is the top of her head moving as she is shamelessly licking and sucking his balls, the slurping sounds of her mouth on him makes his cock jerk in her hand. Bucky can’t hold back the moans and his hands grip tightly the counter before him, the blood rushing away from his fingers with the force he uses.

Her lips come back to suck on his dick, hollowing her cheeks as her other hand grabs a handful of his butt. She squeezes the flesh harshly and grunts around his dick.

“Fuck,” Bucky lets out in a breathless whisper, barely holding together as the vibrations reverberates through his pulsing cock, wrapped in her heat. He’s not gonna last long, he knows that.

With a pop, she releases his cock from her mouth, but keeps her hand wrapped and moving up and down his length. Bucky would’ve protested if he could form one coherent word, “Bucky,” she purrs, brushing her cheek on his cock, as if she’s worshiping it. He feels himself tighter and tighter, rushing to the edge, and that sight is no help for him trying to hold back and prolong the little heaven he’s in, “I want you to fuck my mouth, Bucky.”  

That’s it. He always knew that after more than one hundred years he would die in a situation like that, “What?” he breathes out and it sounds like a groan as he clenches his teeth.

“I want you to fuck my face and I want to taste you, all of you, understand?” Her words sound more like a command as she looks up at him and lazily fists his cock, coated in her saliva.

“Copy that, ma’am,” he quickly obeys, capturing his lower lip in a tight bite, “But if it’s too much you have to let me know, ok? Stop me, punch me in the stomach, if you have to.” As desperate as he is to do as she wants and fuck that pretty little face of hers, the last thing he wants is to hurt her in any way. But they’ve been pretty comfortable with each other to let the other know exactly what they want to do or not, so he doesn’t have to worry much about it.

She smirks and nods before brushing the tip of her tongue over the tip of his cock.

Fuck… she’s perfect.

More than happy to comply with her command, Bucky grips the hair on the back of her head as she invitingly opens her mouth to welcome him, letting her hands rest on her thighs.

He pushes back inside her. He goes slow at first, but goes deep, testing her limits. His breath hitches as he watches his cock disappearing inside her mouth, and oh, man… his head reaches her throat and he hears a strangled moan out of her as she chokes lightly on it…

He fucking loses it.

Bucky does exactly what she asked for and fucks her mouth, holding her face steady with one hand on her hair as with the other he grips the counter as he thrusts inside her, moving her head as he pleases, guiding himself by the muffled but sweet sounds she makes along with him. He goes deep, fast…

He locks eyes with her and sees the sheer lust on them as her swollen lips take his cock, saliva sliding down her chin, “Take that cock, sweetheart. You look fucking beautiful taking it like that.”

The fluttering of her eyes at his words is what takes him on the edge of his climax, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, his voice a strange rasped sound in his ears, “You want that, don’t you? You want my fucking cum deep down your throat, right, beautiful?”

Her answer is to bring both hands to grip harshly his butt and pull him even deeper into her. The tightness coiling inside him is too much before he reaches the best damn orgasm of his life.

A dangerously loud grunt of him resounds around the small bathroom as he spills his climax deep down her mouth and throat, just like he’s promised. The world around him dissolves into the image of her swallowing around him, taking all of him. He’s body falls a bit forward and he has to tighten the hold on the counter as fingers tangle around her locks.

He remains under the effect of the powerful and insanely pleasurable sensation, the aftershocks jerking his body and turning his mind into a total blankness as she slowly and gently sucks and licks him clean, making little humming sounds that only add to his utter state of bliss.

When he feels his strength rushing back to his limbs again, he moves his hand from her hair and helps her up by the arm and without thinking twice slams his lips to hers. 

Her inherent sweetness immediately mixes with his own taste, invading his senses and damn if he doesn’t wanna feel that again and again and again… He swirls his tongue around hers, loving how her arms curl around his neck, like they usually do when he kisses her.

Bucky doesn’t notice he’s been prolonging the kiss for maybe a little too long and maybe a little too intensely until she lets out a muffled giggle through his lips and taps lightly on his shoulder.

He parts away immediately, but doesn’t completely let her go, keeping her close by the waist, only then realizing how breathless he is. Both of them, actually as he notices how deep and fast the up and down of her chest is. But she’s smiling… and that alone makes Bucky smile, too.

She looks thoroughly fucked. Her hair is a complete mess, eyes a bit reddened and teary while her lips are swollen tinted in a darker shade and from taking his cock that hard. He simply can’t move his gaze away while she holds the smile, looking… content…happy…

Right there, just like that, completely undone and disheveled, she’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

He’s not even thinking straight yet when he reaches over and cups her cheek. Spotting a drop of his own pleasure that slipped from the corner of her mouth, he swipes it with his thumb and brings it to her lips, entranced by the way she welcomes it right away, swirling her tongue around his finger before sucking it inside her mouth while her eyes are stuck on his.

His heart skips a beat at the sight. There’s an urge rising in him. A whole new kind of urge he hasn’t ever felt before and he can’t pinpoint exactly what that desperate need is for while she lets go of his thumb before placing a kiss on it and moves her back to him, to face the mirror and put herself together, depriving his arms from her warmth.

He just can’t take his eyes off of her and all he wants is to grab her back and hold her close to him, to feel her skin, smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, listen to her sweet voice in his ears telling him all about her day while she softly runs her fingers through his hair…

Wait… he forces himself to interrupt his own weird line of thoughts.

What the hell is happening?

~~~

 Chapter 6 coming soon.

[combat-wombatus]

Crimson Snow

Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst :’) (a lil bit of fluff thrown in here and there)

Warnings: mentions of blood, character death. 

WC: 7.8k. am i sorry? no.

Summary: Childhood friends doesn’t always equal lovers in the future. You wished that was the case, but ever since Keigo disappeared, you found it hard to believe in love again. 

(A/N): this was. i had to write this. it wasn’t up for debate. finishing this at 4am in the morning aldksjfhajshd. spent a grant total of 2 days brainstorming & writing this fic. not proofread at all. heavily inspired by the song 小幸运 by Hebe Tien. i strongly suggest you give it a try and listen to it as you read this :p (for all my chinese speakers out there...let’s see how you deal with this heartbreak :’) so yeah. i’m actually...really really proud of this fic. i tried a new format with this, and i think i kinda like it. also i left the ending up to interpretation if you don’t read the epilogue. enjoy! 

credit for this au goes to @wafflesandkruge���

here’s the link to the music :)

The one constant in your life.

The boy who’d always been there for you, through the dark days and the cold nights, holding your hand through it all.

The one who’d held you when you broke down.

The one who’d tucked you under his wings as the skies crackled with energy, rain pouring from the heavens, and told you that no matter where you went, he’d stay with you. He’d keep you nice and dry, snuggled close to his body as he shielded you from the storm.

The one constant in your life.

He’d left quietly in the night, not stopping by to say farewell.

In his place, he’d left a lonesome letter, tucked away beneath a boulder on your special hill.

“I’ll come back for you. Wait for me, okay?”

And from within that plain white envelope, a single red feather floated out, carried on the autumn winds, drifting aimlessly.

Almost as if it were lost.

And in that moment, you felt as if you’d lost a part of yourself, a little piece of your soul.

You weren’t sure you were ever going to get it back.

Years passed. You waited. There was no sign of him

Not in the skies, not on the land, and even though you’d sometimes see him in the reflection of the water, sitting next to you as you told him about your day, he wasn’t really there either.

I won’t give up on him.

I’ll stay strong.

He told me he’d come back for me.

Against the test of time, your resolve never withered. It only grew, strong as steel, taking over the crevices in your heart where he’d left his mark.

I’ll wait for you, Kei.

But please…come back to me.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend called out enthusiastically from her position on the couch. “Come look!”

“What?” You stepped out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by a familiar face, smirking on the TV screen.

“Look at him! He’s this new hero, and he’s only 18! (Y/N)! He’s our age! Isn’t he hot?” She pointed at his flickering image. “His hero name is Hawks!” Squealing, she turned to you. “Isn’t that so cool?”

You stood in shock, the glass of water that you had been holding slipped from your fingers and shattered onto the floor. Liquid pooled around your feet, soaking your slippers, but you made no move to step aside.

“Woah! (Y/N), are you okay?” She jumped off the couch, rushing towards you. “Hey, (Y/N)? He’s cute and all but…this is a little bit much, isn’t it?” She looked at you with concern, eyebrows drawing tighter when you didn’t respond.

“(Y/N) …what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Shaking yourself from your daze, you averted your eyes. “Ahh, I’m sorry. Uh…I just, I never thought I’d see him again.”

“Wait, you know him?” Your friend looked at you, surprised. “(Y/N) …did he do something to you?” She asked softly. “If he did, I don’t care how cute he is, I’m gonna kick his ass to high heaven if need be. Someone like that shouldn’t be a hero.”

You shook your head, chuckling a little. “No…no, there’s no need to do that. It’s just…it’s been a long time, and I just didn’t expect to see him.”

“Ahh. Well, step out of that puddle! Come on, let’s grab you some paper towels.”

Hey!

It’s me, (Y/N). I…I saw you on TV today. You look…different. In a good way, I suppose. You’ve bulked up a bit.

You never used to smile like that though. Not like…like you were smiling for others. Seeing you smile for the camera, well…it made me sad.

But I’m happy that you’re ok. I think it would probably be hard for you to find me, since obviously I’m not on the news. So I’ll come find you instead, yeah? What do you say we catch up sometime?

I miss you. I’m in college now. I’m doing pretty good. You’re an overachiever, aren’t you? 18 years old and you already have your own agency.

Not that I’m complaining. Thanks for making it so easy for me to find you :)

So…let’s meet up sometime, when you have time? Maybe for some coffee? I know a quaint little place. It’s not too far away from your agency, three blocks to the right, turn left, and walk to the next intersection. It’s the corner shop. You can’t miss it.

I’ll wait for you there this Saturday, okay? I’ll do my work there. You can walk in whenever you have the time.

Your chicken, (Y/N)

Saturday came faster than you could prepare yourself. You checked your reflection repeatedly in the mirror, double-guessing your outfit decisions.

What if he doesn’t like it?

Is this too formal for a coffee date?

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Your friend barged into the bathroom. “I saw all the clothes on your bed! Are you going on a date?”

“Uh…just a meeting with an old friend. To catch up,” you explained.

She looked at you suspiciously. “Old friend…is it that guy on TV? Hawks?”

You grew flustered. “Err…yeah. If he got my letter.”

She looked you up and down, then dragged you into her closet. “Good thing I just went on a shopping spree last weekend then!” She pumped a fist excitedly in the air. “I’m giving you a makeover!”

Two hours later, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror once more. Your friend had put you through every single possible combination of outfits using both your closet and hers, and you had to agree that she had impeccable taste.

“Come on, you’re going to be late!” She shoved you out of the bathroom.

“I didn’t set a time!” You protested, laughing.

“Well, get your ass out of here! My boyfriend’s coming over!”

“So that’s the real reason you want me gone, hmm?” You teased her.

“Shush! Get out!”

Hawks was on patrol. You had been on his mind the entire week. Ever since your letter had reached his desk, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Thinking about you brought back happier times, and he wasn’t masochistic enough to give himself false hope.

No, it would be better for you to forget about him, and vice versa.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself. His body flew of its own accord, ignoring the sensibilities of his mind that screamed at it to stop.

Go back! The reasonable voice inside his head yelled.

Fly back!

His body refused to listen.

He found himself gently landing on a rooftop, right across the little café you told him to meet you at.

He even debated going inside. Just for a second. Just for a cup of coffee, to warm myself up in the chilly late-afternoon breeze, he told himself.

Then, he scoffed. Who was he kidding? If he went inside, he wouldn’t have the resolve to step back out before he saw you.

Shaking his head, he flew away as quickly as he could.

If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would’ve seen you walk down the street, humming a little tune to yourself.

Maybe then his resolve would’ve cracked.

Too bad he’ll never know.

Sitting alone at a table for two was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when you’re on your third drink, the waitress keeps eyeing you with pity, and you couldn’t concentrate on your work.

“Miss?” The waitress stopped by your table again. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re closing in 15 minutes.”

You checked the time on your laptop. Crap. It was already 5:15.

“Oh yeah, uhh, sorry to bother you!” You chuckle awkwardly. You quickly packed your books and laptop, dropped a $20 bill on the table, and hurried out the door. Walking home in silence, you tried your best not to feel too disappointed.

Maybe he just didn’t have time?

It’s ok. You’ll just ask him again, another time.

Another time.

You sent him countless letters. For the first year, at least. When he ignores all of them, you visit his agency in person.

As you walk through the glass doors, there’s a man sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hello, miss. How can I help you today?” He asks in the customary polite tone.

“I’m looking for Keigo. Hawks,” you answer, trying to hide your nervousness.

He looks at you suspiciously. “How do you know his first name?”

“We…we were childhood friends,” you tried to explain. “I…well, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

He took a closer look at you. “Can I ask for your name, miss?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sighed. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave the premises, Miss (Y/L/N). You’re not allowed to be here.”

What?

He hadn’t kicked you out before you told him your name.

“Why-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Miss (Y/L/N). I’m afraid that I have to ask you to leave, and don’t come back. Should I call security to escort you out?”

Holding back tears, you clutched your purse close to your chest and hurried out the glass doors, wishing nothing more than to shatter them into pieces.

You didn’t send any more letters after that.

Years pass. Every year on your birthday, Keigo gave you a feather.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he joked.

His feathers are extra durable, but time can wear down even the strongest things.

The last feather you got from him was ten years ago.

It can barely be considered a feather at this point, and you keep it in a special glass case so it can’t get any more worn down.

Ten years.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow.

Ten years of waiting around for him turned into ten years of watching him date other women. Ten years of hiding your pain every time another picture of him kissing a new girl graced the covers of the tabloids.

The first time, you cried yourself to sleep.

It wasn’t the last time.

Again and again, he breaks your heart.

By the third year, you convinced yourself to stop looking at the tabloids and the gossip sites.

By the fifth year, you scold yourself. You vow to stop crying over a stupid childhood crush.

By the seventh, you told yourself that you needed to forget about him. Step back into the dating ring, make out with someone else, and remove his presence entirely from your mind.

That didn’t work out.

Ten years.

It killed you to finally harden your resolve, but you told yourself that you couldn’t spend your whole life waiting for someone who was never going to love you back.

You’re turning 25 tomorrow, and you’re going to go on a date.

He’s watching you. He always is.

It makes him feel like a creepy stalker, but he can’t help it.

He watches you as you step into the restaurant, decked out in formal wear that looked amazing on you.

Going on a date. With someone who wasn’t him.

He stays on the rooftop, watching you through a window as you ate and laughed.

He wishes that he was the one making you laugh, that he was the one helping you order food from the menu, that he was the one sharing a dessert with you.

He’s selfish like that. It never does him any good.

He’s scared, really. Scared of commitment, tarnished by his time spent in the work program.

He sees you as the one thing in life that they can’t take away from him. You have this innocence, this purity that you always carry around with you, because you’re a part of a time when his life wasn’t so complicated.

He doesn’t want to shatter that illusion.

He never reached out to you because he’s scared.

He’s scared that he’ll break you.

He stopped sending you feathers, heart splintering every time your birthday comes around, hoping you’ll eventually forget him.

You don’t.

It’s not that you didn’t try.

No one else really interested you.

That is, until Masaki came along. He was bright, happy, always upbeat. He could find the words to cheer you up, to make a bad day that much better. He was attentive, caring, sweet.

He was everything that most people would look for in a partner.

And slowly, you began to open up to him too.

You fell into his embrace easier. You got a little happier when he came over for dinner.

You felt just a little safer when you were wrapped in his arms, a luxury you never thought you’d have.

Two years later, during a picnic date, he proposed.

You always had a love for picnic dates. Maybe because your first date, with Keigo, was a messy picnic affair during the spring, on top of a little hill where wildflowers bloomed and birds pecked at your leftovers.

“Stop!” You giggled, whipped cream smeared all over your cheeks. “You’re going to get it on my clothes!”

Keigo laughed, then popped another strawberry in your mouth. “You can wash that off later, silly! Just have fun!”

“It’s not fun when my clothes are all sticky,” you whined. “You try it! It feels gross!”

He smirked. “Oh really?”

Taking a strawberry, he dipped it in the container of cream you had brought, then stuck it down his shirt.

“Ha! Take that!” He gloated.

You stared at him in shock. “Did you just–”

“Yes I did! And it’s not gross at all, see?” He plucked the strawberry back out and shoved it in his mouth.

“Eww! Kei, that’s disgusting!”

“No it’s not, it still tastes like a strawberry! Mphm!” He chewed, licking his fingers.

He regretted that decision later, when bees swarmed the front of his shirt.

“Eek!” He shrieked, hopping backwards.

“Kei, take off your shirt!”

“It’s so sticky!” He yelped, trying to peel the front of his shirt away from his chest.

“I told you!”

“Hey, now is NOT the time for the ‘I told you so’ speech, okay?” He finally ripped his shirt off.

You couldn’t help it. You cackled.

“What now?” He looked at the bees feasting on his ruined tee.

“I told you so,” you teased him.

Taking one look at the devious glint in his eyes, you scooped up the picnic supplies and raced down the hill.

He followed, wings beating, taking off into the air. He reached you within seconds, tacking you to the ground.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” You struggled against him. “You know you’re fast when you fly!”

He looked at you mischievously. “And what about it?”

“You can’t race me like that when I’m on foot!”

“Who said we were racing?” His eyes locked on your lips. “I was just trying to catch up to you.”

You blushed, suddenly realizing how close his face was to yours.

“Kei–” you started.

“Can I kiss you?” He interrupted you, then quickly blushed. “I mean, only if you want to-”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, interrupting him with a kiss.

He tasted like the remnants of strawberries and cream, sweet honey on a beautiful spring day.

And it was a beautiful spring day.

Perhaps the last beautiful spring day you’d ever have, for the next spring, he was gone.

Beautiful spring days were few and far between. You’d learned that the hard way.

But today…you were inclined to think that it might be another one of those days.

Your boyfriend of two years had proposed on a beautiful spring day reminiscent of one long ago.

You supposed that this marked a series of firsts.

First date. First kiss. And now…a proposal.

You accept his proposal, tears in your eyes. He thinks that they’re tears of happiness, and in part, they are.

You don’t tell him that this was the one thing that you never thought you’d do. You feel like you’re betraying Keigo.

You have to remind yourself that he betrayed you first.

Half a year later, you have a wedding. It’s a small wedding, with only your families and close friends. You considered reaching out to Hawks’s hero agency, but decided to spare yourself the pain.

He’d moved on. So would you.

Unbeknownst to you, when the ceremony rolled around, Keigo was standing on a nearby rooftop, the wind blowing away his tears.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He knew that he couldn’t have you, but didn’t you know that he was a sucker for pain? Watching you repeat the vows was like getting punched full-force in the gut, but the wind never returned to his lungs.

He felt empty inside. Something essential was missing, and he knew what it was, but he also knew that he couldn’t ever have it. Not if he wanted you to stay alive.

As the ceremony finished, he flew away into the sunset, and you caught a glimpse of his crimson wings, purely on accident. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Now I’m hallucinating too,” you muttered to yourself.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you imagined the whole thing, that final view made it so much harder for you to forget him.

Another year passed, and the seasons changed as they did. Spring flowing into summer, summer fading into autumn, autumn slowly drifting into winter.

Gradually, your new life engulfed you, the comfort of it all slowly draining away your doubts. Your husband was a good man. A faithful man. A caring man.

He held doors open for you and snuggled you on the couch. He played with your hair and made you breakfast in bed. He made it difficult for you not to love him.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to resist, anyways.

One night, you woke up in your shared bed, screaming in pain. Your lower back burned, almost as if you were getting branded.

Your husband woke up to the commotion. The bedsheets were stained with blood. Fresh, crimson, blood, all of it coming from you.

Whimpering, you laid limp as Masaki set you on your belly, trying to figure out the source of the injury. Taking a clean paper towel, he gingerly wiped the blood off of your raw skin, showing a tattoo emblazoned in gold ink.

Written in elegant cursive were three simple words.

Three words, but they hurt to look at.

(Y/N) …I’m sorry.

Your husband stared in shock. This didn’t happen. This couldn’t happen, could it? The only way someone got a tattoo like this was if their soulmate died, and, well…he was still very much alive.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

In this world, quirks weren’t the only strange thing.

Soulmates existed. But most never found out until it was too late.

When your soulmate died, their last words would be tattooed permanently on their other half’s skin in a bloody and painful process.

Their last moments would flash before the other’s eyes.

Nothing you could do. Nothing you could be sure of, until it was too late.

Fires blazed everywhere.

Building after building, it ate away at the crumbling city, tearing down everything in its path.

“Help!” A voice choked out, raspy from smoke intake. “There’s a beam—ugh—on my leg. I can’t get it off!”

A winged figure crouched on a burning rooftop, out of breath and utterly exhausted.

Backup wasn’t coming.

The whole city was burning.

Standing shakily, he sent the last of his feathers off to help the trapped woman.

“That’s it for me then, I suppose,” his smile wobbled slightly. “My work here is done.”

He couldn’t risk jumping off of the roof. His wings were stubs on his back, and only a single feather remained.

“That’s not enough for me to fly off, now is it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if only you could see me right now, (Y/N). You’d be proud. Saved more than 500 people today, you know that?” He sighed, sitting down on the roof. “Lost count somewhere around there. You were always proud of me, weren’t you? The only one that believed in me when I told myself I couldn’t fly.

You’re the one that taught me to fly, remember, chicken? Those were the good times.

Look at me now. Talking to myself. Don’t even have the strength to fly down anymore.” He coughed into his hand, blood staining his palm. He grasped tightly onto a keychain around his neck, smearing the metal with crimson.

“I never did thank you. Guess it’s too late now.” He stared up at the sky, hues of orange and gold dancing across the horizon.

“Never did treat you right.” He plucked his last feather off of his back, twirling it around in his fingers.

“You were always too good for me. Too good for anyone, really.” He laid down on the roof, back no longer sensitive to the burning heat.

“I lost the right to love you a long time ago. I’ve got no business crying over you.” He chuckled bitterly. “But is that going to stop me?”

Letting go of the keychain and his feather, his hands went limp.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The roof collapsed, the hungry flames licking at the bottom finally swallowing him whole. His comms fell out of his ear, the plastic melting in the heat.

A single red feather floated down to the ground, charred and blackened.

The only remains of his body they’ll ever find.

You were sobbing uncontrollably. Keigo.

He was your soulmate.

The boy you loved.

The one who’d abandoned you.

The one who you tried to forget.

He was your soulmate.

Your soulmate, who was dead.

“Turn…turn on the TV,” you whispered weakly. “Turn it on. I need to see.”

Masaki reached for the remote, flipping it on to the news channel.

“Earlier tonight, a bomb was detonated in Nagoya prefecture. Top heroes were on the scene, including Endeavor and Hawks, but their quirks are ill-suited to fight the conflagration. Endeavor has resorted to using brute strength to rescue people from the rubble, while Hawks hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the night. We are now reporting his status as MIA, and will continue to look for the Winged Hero, along with updating our reports on the status of missing civilians–”

You shut the TV off. You’d heard all you needed to.

Throwing on a mishmash of clothing, you sprinted out the door. Hailing a taxi, you hopped in before it had even screeched to a full stop.

“Hawks Hero Agency.” You told the driver, not bothering to mince your words. You hadn’t bothered to wipe all the blood off of your back either, so it was gradually staining your coat a deep crimson, a mocking parody of the way that Keigo’s feathers used to lay against his back.

His feathers that were burnt, charred, turned to ashes, no longer able to bring you the comfort they once had when they wrapped you in a warm embrace.

The driver looked concerned. “Miss, do you know what happened today? Hawks isn’t–”

“Yes, I know. Drive.”

You pressed your forehead against the window, breath steaming up the glass. It reminded you of one winter, when the two of you had been building snowmen, and your mother called you in for dinner.

“Kei, I have to go,” you tugged at his hand.

“Aww, (Y/N),” he kicked at an unfortunate stone with the scuffed toe of his boot. “Why can’t you stay a little longer? We haven’t finished his head yet.” He pouted.

“I can’t, Kei,” you tried to make him release his iron grip on your hand. “Mama’s gonna get mad.”

“Then I’ll make you stay!” He boldly declared, wrapping his little arms around your frame, tackling you to the snow-covered ground.

The two of you giggled, engaged in a tickle war, your mom’s voice fading into the distance.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” Your mom yelled, marching over to where the two of you lay, tangled in a heap. “Do you want to get a cold?”

“No, Mama,” you said, slowly getting up and dusting the snow off of your parka. “I’m coming.” You turned around and poked your tongue out at your friend, letting your mom drag you back into your house.

Keigo sat in the snow for a while longer, not exactly excited to go back to his house.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

He beat his little wings as fast as he could, half flying, half stumbling to your kitchen window.

Sneaking a peek inside, he saw you staring questioningly back at him. Not bothering to hide his mischievous grin, he puffed out a breath, steaming the window, took his little glove off, and started writing.

“D O  Y O U  W A N T  T O  F L Y  W I T H  M E ?” He painstakingly wrote out.

You shook your head, and his grin quickly dropped from his face. Looking down, he almost missed the words you mouthed out.

“I can’t read it!” You tried your best to sign. “It’s backwards!”

“Oh!” He tried his best to write the mirror image of what he had just written, making sure that you could read it from your point of view this time. You read his little message, a grin taking over your face.

“Y E S!” You mouthed. “YES, YES, YES!”

Quickly scarfing down your dinner, you waved a hasty goodbye to your mom, racing out the back door, only to get tackled into the snow.

“Come on, let’s go!” He took ahold of your hand. “Race you!”

“You can’t race me if you’re holding my hand!” You shrieked in delight. “Stop it!”

He paused, turning around. “Hmm. Well, maybe I don’t want to race you then,” he looked at you with a small smile on his face. “I wanna try something new!”

“Oh?” You asked, seeing the way his eyes lit up with delight. “What is it?”

“I wanna fly! With you!”

Giggling, he turned you around so that your back was facing him. He circled his arms below your armpits.

“Hang on!” He flapped his wings as fast as he could, kicking up a storm of snow around you. To his surprise, he actually managed to lift the two of you off the ground for around 3 feet or so. He wasn’t expecting it to work on his first try, but the two of you really were flying!

Sighing, you turned away from the window.

Happier times, you chuckled mirthlessly.

Isn’t it sad that I’m only remembering them now?

The car screeched to a stop at the front door to the Hawks Hero Agency.

You stepped into the lobby, the fluorescent lights blinding.

It’s the middle of the night, but they don’t seem to mind, you thought. Everyone was bustling around the place like it was normal.

The receptionist had changed since you’d last been here.

She spotted you and hurried over, most likely because of the blood staining your clothes.

“Miss, are you hurt?” She gave you a once-over. “Can I help you?”

You stared at her in shock for a moment. What were you here for again?

“Oh…uh,” you wrung your hands nervously. “I’m here for Hawks.”

Her expression of concern melted away into one of annoyance. “Another fangirl. This one appears to be married too,” she scoffed at the band adorning your left ring finger. “People these days…” she muttered underneath her breath, already hurrying back to her desk, where the phone rang incessantly.

“No. I’m not a fangirl.” You lifted your head. You might be in pain, but damned if you were going to let a stranger strip you of the remaining shreds of your dignity.

“I’m his soulmate.”

The way you said that phrase with such conviction made the lady pause.

“Soulmate?” She questioned. Girls had tried this trick on her before, but…when asked to prove themselves, they merely responded with “oh, it’s just a feeling,” or “I just know it.”

Never once had anyone said this phrase with such confidence.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes, defiantly holding back tears. “You have comms, right? What did he say before the comms died?”

The lady stared back at you, a pang of sorrow shooting its way into her heart. You weren’t joking around, were you?

“I…yes, yes we do. What’s your name, miss?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

She stared at you for another moment, then quietly pulled out her comms.

“He said…” she choked a little. “He said, ‘(Y/N) …I’m sorry.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about. We assumed it was a civilian he wasn’t able to save,” she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God…”

Quietly, she choked out another question. “Was it…was he talking about…you?”

You didn’t want to reply. You’d heard enough.

The lady didn’t try to stop you as you ran to the elevator, your fingertip pressing the “up” button so hard it bruised.

Quickly looking at the directory, you found his office.

“420.” You choked out a pained laugh. “He always did like messing around with people.”

Collapsing against the corner of the elevator, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lowered your head. You felt so goddamn tired.

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn’t he break someone else’s heart?

Someone who was stronger?

Someone who could take this in stride and move on?

Why did the universe choose you?

The elevator bell dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. You stood up slowly, a trail of blood staining the place where you once sat.

Crimson, like the trail of feathers he’d (perhaps intentionally) shed during that game of hide and seek.

You buried your face into your hands.

Goddamnit, Keigo! Why does everything have to remind me of you?

You made your way into his office, most likely the messiest of all the top pro-hero offices. Paperwork was scattered everywhere, jackets strewn across the floor. You even saw a shoelace string laying on the carpet next to his desk.

It’s almost as if he’d always expected to come back.

Stepping cautiously over the objects that littered the ground, you came face-to-face with a cabinet next to his desk.

Snowglobes. So many snowglobes.

Snowglobes occupied every shelf of the cabinet, and the glass doors made it easy to examine the contents.

You squinted closely at them. They were all…different angles of the same scene, you realized.

The snow park above your houses.

He’d had snowglobes made.

They immortalized the place where the two of you played all day in the snow.

The place where he first learned how to fly, gliding off the hills like a paraglider.

The place where he’d picked you up and learned how to fly with another person’s life in his hands, hugging you close to his chest, reveling in your warmth.

In the spring, it was the place where he took you on your first picnic date.

The place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

The place where he left you his goodbye note, tucked away under the grounding weight of a boulder you used to lay on, basking in the sun’s warmth.

He’d had 12 snowglobes made. Your lucky number.

12 different angles that showcased the same scenery.

Suddenly, your legs wouldn’t carry your weight anymore. You leaned back into his chair, still smelling faintly of his scent.

How can someone’s scent not change over 13 years?

You closed your eyes, and quickly opened them again when you saw a pile of letters on the corner of the desk.

You weren’t sure why they caught your eye. They weren’t anything special, really. Plain white envelopes addressed in plain black print.

You took a closer look.

That was your name on the envelopes.

You leaned closer, quickly shuffling through them all.

Each and every single one of them was addressed to you.

Each and every single one of them was dated a year apart.

Each and every single one of them was marked for your various addresses over the years, his handwriting steadily improving.

You couldn’t resist your curiosity. Taking a paper cutter, you tore through the seal of the earliest envelope.

A single red feather, beautifully preserved, floated out.

You stared in shock. He…he didn’t forget.

He never forgot.

He just chose not to send it.

Hurriedly opening the remaining envelopes, you acquired more feathers, each fresher than the last.

By the end, you had a pile of 13 crimson feathers, right next to 13 shredded envelopes.

You looked around, confused. Why hadn’t he left a note? Any note?

Did he…did he never write letters?

You knew that you had sent him letters.

Maybe they did throw them out as spam.

Your curiosity piqued, you pulled open drawer after drawer, but none of them held anything of personal importance.

Finally, you came upon the bottom right drawer.

It was locked, you realized.

You carefully place the feathers back in their respective envelopes. Sealing them up once again, you carry them in a stack, making your way downstairs.

The agency workers saw you with the letters in your arms, not sure if they should stop you or not. When you looked to the receptionist and murmured a quiet “thank you”, they stood their ground. If she was okay with you walking away like this, then there shouldn’t be a reason that they wouldn’t be.

The taxi driver who took you here was still waiting outside. Seeing you arrive, he stomped out his cigarette butt and opened the backseat door for you.

“Rough night, miss?” He looked at your back, pity obvious in his expression. “Do you want me to take you to a hospital with that?”

You shook your head. “They can’t fix that. Do you remember the way we came?”

“Aye, yes I do,” he stepped into his own seat. “I’ll take you there right quick, miss. Don’t you worry.”

As you rode back home in silence, you couldn’t stop thinking about the cabinet in Keigo’s office.

The feathers, folded away safely in the envelopes you were holding.

If he never forgot, why did he never reach out?

The car door slamming shook you from your daze. “Miss, you’re back home.”

You stared at the man, realizing that you didn’t have your wallet on you.

“Do you mind waiting a second? I’ll go get my wallet now–”

He shook his head. “I know where that blood came from. See here?” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Got mine when I was 22,” a melancholy smile framed his face. “Rare, right? I never did find out who she was.

But the hospital staff helped me that day. Looked for deaths around my age, and then when I tried to pay ‘em, they refused. Said ‘twas only the right thing to do. Now I finally get to repay the favor. Don’t you go tryna pay me now. Won’t ‘ccept it.”

He leaned back against the hood of his car. When you opened your mouth to object, he merely saluted you, hopped back into the driver’s seat, and drove off into the night.

You turned to your house. The lights were still on inside, meaning your husband was still up. He probably couldn’t sleep, not after what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him.

Stepping inside, you heard muffled sobs coming from the kitchen.

“Masaki?” You leaned on the doorframe. He looked up at your voice.

“(Y/N)?” He rose from the table. “You’re…you’re okay,” he wrapped you in a hug.

You cleared your throat. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” you hugged him back.

I’m okay, you tried to convince yourself.

“Where did you go?” He looked at you curiously. Finally seeing the envelopes in your arms, he paused.

“Babe?” He asked softly. “Did you…did you know him?”

You buried your face into his chest. “Yeah…yeah, I did.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“Not really…not now…” you replied.

He patted your back lightly. “That’s ok. I understand.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. The letters were scattered on your nightstand, your husband helping you into the shower. He’s changed the bloody sheets already, but the stains on the mattress were stubborn and refused to come out.

Crimson stains, in the shape of wings.

Days later, some people from the agency stopped by your house.

“Is there a (Y/N) (Y/L/N) at this address?” The receptionist from your earlier encounter knocked on the door.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, that’s me,” you answered, not bothering to change out of your bathrobe. Your complexion had grown waxen, face shallow. Your hair formed an unkempt nest, spiraling around your face.

She gave you a smile, pity etched in her face. It disgusted you, really.

All anyone ever gave you nowadays was pity. Pity cards from your coworkers, although you weren’t sure how the information leaked out. Pitiful glances from your husband, who insisted on doing all the chores around the house.

Pity, pity, pity.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We have some…documents for you.” She waved over two guys, each lugging a large crate of…paper?

“Wait…all that? For me?” You were confused. There was no way that that bottom drawer, even if all it contained were letters, had that much paper in it.

“Yes, (Y/L/N)-san. It’s all for you.” The men dropped off their crates at your door.

“What’s going on?”

“These were stored in the records house. Hawks filed them. They were all addressed to you, so we felt that this was the proper treatment.”

“We’ll leave you to go through these in your own time.” She started down the steps. Then, as if remembering something suddenly, she paused.

“You know…he was a good man,” she smiled gently. “We all knew he had a secret someone. We just didn’t know who they were. I’m glad he found you. Hero work is dangerous, especially for top heroes like him.

I hope that you find joy in those letters.” She turned back and finished her journey down the steps.

You turned around and looked at the crates.

Found me?

You smiled bitterly, a brittle coldness taking over your heart.

He never really did find me, did he?

Sighing, you sorted through the crates, looking for the ones that were dated the earliest. You carried the oldest set of letters into the bedroom and tore open the first envelope.

Hey, (Y/N). It’s me, Kei.

I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I mean, I’m not an easy person to forget, I suppose, but it has been a while. Three years, to be exact.

Three years can do a lot to a person.

I should know.

How are you doing? I hope you managed to keep Timothy alive. You were always prone to overwatering him.

I’m not sure how long cacti live, but…if you nurture something, anything can happen, right?

I’m a hero now. I’m sure you know. My debut was broadcasted all over national television. They just can’t resist making themselves look good, can they?

At least now I’m allowed to write. I hope you understand why I haven’t written to you in so long.

I didn’t forget about you. How could I? Even though we were only 15, how could I forget someone like you?

I missed you. I don’t think you understand how much. It felt so empty, living without you by my side. Like…like I wasn’t ever warm enough, even bundled in the tightest blankets. I was always missing you.

Sounds like a curse, eh?

But don’t worry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just wanted you to know that.

Yours, Kei.

Ripping open letter after letter, you realized that you held his entire life story in your hands.

Hey chicken. It’s Kei again.

Realized I’ve been treating these letters as a kind of diary. I guess it’s…therapeutic? Even though I know I’ll never send these. I don’t want to put you in danger, you know?

Do you remember when we were kids?

We had all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted.

I miss that time.

Not as much as I miss you though.

I check in on you every so often, but I make sure you never see.

False hope is a dangerous thing. It shatters your soul into pieces, and when you try and piece them back together, it cuts your heart so badly you wish you’d never started.

But, you see, you’re like a drug for me.

I can’t seem to stop myself. No matter how bad it hurts, I…I still come back.

You wouldn’t know, of course.

I suppose there’s a reason it hurts when you stare into the sun.

I’m already broken, yeah? I don’t want you to break with me.

The thing is, I know you’d want to. I know we promised we’d always come back for each other. We promised we’d always be here for each other.

But some promises were meant to be broken.

You can’t be here for me, birdie. You’ll get hurt.

That would hurt me more than anything else, (Y/N).

So for my own safety, and yours…

This is the last time I’ll write to you.

I have to move on, or else those pieces of my soul?

They’re already in splinters, but if I keep going like this, they’ll be nothing more than powder, and I don’t think I could go on like that, yeah?

I love you, forever and always.

Kei.

Ha. Guess what.

What I said in the last letter?

A fucking lie.

I physically. Can’t stop.

The thought of not writing to you breaks me more than the thought of never being with you, and that’s a milestone I never thought I’d be able to pass.

So here I am again.

You’ve already heard my entire life story.

I wish I could be there to hear yours.

I saw you tonight, standing on your balcony. You know, the stars were so bright tonight. Reminded me of your eyes the first time I flew with you around the whole field, yeah?

Sparkling. You never stop sparkling, do you?

You know…do you ever wonder who your soulmate is?

I know that the world is cruel. I know that we don’t know exactly who our soulmates are until one of us dies.

But…do you ever think about it?

Who’s out there, just waiting for you?

Because I do.

And sometimes, when I’m at rock bottom, I’ll imagine that we’re soulmates.

I’ll create scenarios in my head. We’d be happily married. I’d spoon-feed you ice cream.

We’d play tickle wars with my feathers, have pillow fights, binge TV shows.

We’d watch horror movies, and you’d hide your face in my chest the whole time.

But…those scenarios always make me feel worse after I wake up. Because they’re not real.

And I…I so desperately want them to be real.

But you can’t always get what you wish for, yeah?

Going on a big mission soon. Undercover. Cool, right?

You’d be proud of me, I think, if you saw me.

I have to go now. But I’ll come back safe for you, yeah?

I know you won’t wait for me. I want you to wait for me, but…I know it’s not in your best interests. Probably not in mine either.

Sometimes I try and convince myself that it’s okay to be selfish. I want what I want, and you only live once, right?

But then I realize that you’re the one I’d be putting in danger.

And that’s when I realize you can’t ever stay with me.

It’s okay. I’ll watch from afar.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you.

Yours,

Kei.

You put the letter down and rummaged through the second crate, desperately trying to find the last letter that he wrote.

Hey birdie. Long time no see. Ha.

13 years and I still can’t forget about you. Doesn’t seem normal, does it?

I’m convinced that we’re soulmates, but then again, I may have convinced myself. You know…I used to hate the idea of soulmates. Sharing your life with another person, seen as incomplete without them?

Sharing my soul?

Bunch of crap, right? I like making my own decisions. Wasn’t ever much of a rule-stickler. But…you know…I’m starting to warm up to that idea.

But only with you.

And that’s why I’m convinced that we are, in fact, soulmates.

You don’t know how my heart breaks every time I see you. Manual is a good guy. I know he’s treating you well.

That’s the only reason I’m letting you stay married to him, really. If it was anyone else, I would’ve busted their ass.

But…you deserve someone like him. Someone who can give you their all.

Someone who, if you date them…they won’t lead you into danger.

Soulmates are a finicky concept, yeah?

So…I guess we’ll never know ‘till one of us dies.

Yours,

Kei.

Epilogue

Rainy winter days were the saddest days of the year.

Especially today.

Strolling through the park, you held a black umbrella in one hand and clutched a glass case tightly in the other.

You stopped in front of a marble headstone.

“Hey there,” your voice cracked.

“Miss me?”

A whistling wind, scattering powdered snow and frozen rain across the landscape, was your only answer.

“Kei, I–” You collapsed onto your knees, uncaring of whether or not the cold would seep in. It couldn’t get colder than your soul now, anyways.

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, leaving a silvery sheen in their wake. “There were too many people and I…I couldn’t handle it.”

“But…Kei…” You choked out an ugly sob. “Why didn’t you send me the fucking letters?”

“I don’t care how dangerous your work was. You can’t get anywhere without taking risks in life, Kei!” You screamed at the marble façade, willing it to crumble.

“You can’t–”

“You can’t make my decisions for me!”

“I should be the one who gets to choose who I love!”

Your screams attracted the attention of several bystanders, who quickly averted their eyes and walked away when they saw your distraught state.

“You shouldn’t have tried to choose for me!”

“And now–”

“You’re dead, Kei! What am I supposed to do now?” Your tears pooled on the frozen ground, marking little dents in the snow.

You slammed your fists into the ground, the glass case in your hand cracking.

Another ugly sob made its way out.

“Kei–” you whimpered.

The glass shattered, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces, each fragment glittering like diamonds.

Slivers found their way into your palm.

Crimson blood, the color of the worn-out feather freed from its enclosure, splattered the snow-white ground.

“Kei,” you whispered, carefully placing the feather on top of the chiseled marble.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy.”

Masterlist

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 16 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Reader is trying to go back to her old life, which includes the life she led before she met Spencer. Category: Angst. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader Content Warning: Drug mention, addiction, jealousy, arguing, death mention Word Count: 9.3k

MASTERLIST

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“Don’t wear that tie, wear the other one.”  

Spencer turned to look at me curiously, his little grin the first signal that he saw right through me. “Why?” He asked, taking off the tie he’d only just finished putting on to swap it for the other one hanging in my closet.

It’d been a week since Spencer all but moved into my room, refusing to leave my side for even a second longer than necessary. Aside from the freshly healing bullet wounds, it had been one of the best weeks of my life.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, trying and failing to hide my smile. “I just wanted to watch you take it off.”

My boyfriend pointed an accusing finger at me as he approached the bed, using it to poke my nose before retreating. “You, my dear, are a troublemaker. I’m going to be late.”

It was hard to believe that life could resume so quickly for everyone else when it felt like I was still on my knees on the cold tile floor of the bank. I tried not to think about it, acutely aware of the terrible things that could happen when PTSD was left unchecked.

I wanted to think about nice things, instead. Like how cute my boyfriend was, acting like it was my fault he’d be late while he took his time tying his tie over and over again. He’d say it was because it wasn’t perfect, but we both knew he didn’t care about that. He just didn’t want to leave yet.

“If you’re going to be late Dr. Reid, it’s because you refused to get out of bed until I gave you a kiss for every hour you’ll be gone today.” I reminded him, joy filling my chest at the small combination of a smile and a pout I received in response.

“You still owe me two.”

“Do I?” I responded, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him back to my place on the bed. “Then please, let me remedy that.”

Not wanting me to move any more than I already had, he quickly came down to place a chaste kiss on my lips. But I didn’t let it end there, holding onto the newly secured tie and tugging him closer.

Now it might be my fault, I thought, but I didn’t care. With one hand on the bed to steady himself and the other carefully caressing my cheek, he put all of his love into one little kiss. I felt like I was going to explode with the pent up desire that had accompanied being with him for so long without being able to show him how much I loved him in a physical way.

He insisted that he didn’t need sex, that it didn’t matter to him, but it mattered to me! I didn’t have a way with words like he did, and while he was content with curling up by my side, it left me wanting more.

The doctor kept telling me it would be soon, that the time will have passed quickly in hindsight. I didn’t understand half of what he said— he was just trying to get me to accept the narcotics in hopes that I wouldn’t end up back in his hospital.

I was doing it again. I was thinking about things I didn’t need to think about instead of the way Spencer bit down on my bottom lip when he paused to let me breathe. The smell of his cologne filled my lungs and I remembered how much I used to miss it. I’d stopped appreciating it when it was around me all the time.

It wasn’t until his phone rang that he left completely, tearing himself away from me like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself any other way.

“Hello?”

There were only a few reasons they would be calling him right now, and I didn’t like any of them.

“Oh… Alright.”

It was that exact tone, that terrified, pitiful grumble that told me what I needed to know. He had to go somewhere, and he wouldn’t be back today. He’d retreated from me, turning his back to me like I wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening just because I couldn’t see his face.

His voice was hushed. “Hotch, are you sure that I…”

The hopelessness hurt. I wanted him to go back to work; I knew he needed to. But it was so hard to let him go.

“Understood. I’ll be there soon.”

“How many more kisses do I owe you now?” I asked with a nervous laugh, fiddling with the sheets between my fingers.

“I don’t know.”

“Uh oh. I don’t like that voice.” I tried to keep my tone playful, but it wasn’t enough.

“I have to travel.”

The fact that he wasn’t looking at me made me more anxious than the fact he was now grabbing all the clothes he had in the closet and dropping them in the suitcase.

“Where to?”

Spencer paused, staring at the floor so that he could see me from his peripherals. He was torturing himself by forcing himself to see my reaction, but he wasn’t strong enough to look directly at me.

“Alaska.”

“Oh... wow.” I didn’t know how to respond, my body freezing as I tried to conceptualize just how far away that was. Far enough away that in maps of the United States, they had a separate area designated for it since it couldn’t fit.

It was too far, that’s all I knew.

“Hey, that’s fine! I can still call you.” My voice sounded foreign and the hopefulness was poorly performed. I wasn’t sure calling would be enough, but it apparently didn’t even matter.

“Not really. They don’t have service out there. Garcia is coming with us.” His packing got angrier, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from me.

“It’ll be fine, Spencer.”

His hands, unable to find any more clothing to grab, found purchase in his hair instead, running through them roughly. “What if something happens?” He asked as he finally turned to face me with a seriousness that was unbecoming.

“Nothing is going to happen. I have tons of friends who can help me. I’m just going to be sitting here on my ass all day watching bad TV.”

I gestured to the television that my friends had been nice enough to set up in my room, sighing as Spencer sulked in the other corner. It took a few waves of the hand, but eventually he dragged himself back to my side. Opening my arms to him, I took him in when his head dropped against my shoulder once more.

“I-I’m not ready to leave you yet.” The vulnerability shook in his voice, and I could feel the insistence in his grip denting my pillow.

“Well, too bad, superman.” I teased, pulling him away enough that I could show him my smile, hoping that it would be enough to calm his mounting fears. “You’ve got lives to save.”

He looked at me, his eyes still welling with tears despite the smile he now wore. He took my hand and heldit against his cheek. He closed his eyes; taking a deep breath, he mumbled, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me fall more in love with you every single day.”

I had to laugh, and I cursed him for it. It hurt so badly to laugh still, but the look on his face was worth it. No matter what, Spencer Reid had to be a romantic, and I loved him for it. It was so very much unlike me.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, old man.” I chastised him lightly, “You’re going to be late.”

He wasn’t done yet, though, that protective glimmer in his eyes returning with a vengeance. He held tighter to my hand and bit his lip.

“Promise me you’ll be safe. Don’t do anything you aren’t supposed to. Please.”

It sounded like a beg, a desperation that I wasn’t used to. Up until now, it always felt like I was the one who was seeking more information and assurance. But now he sat before me, practically broken at the thought of not seeing me for a few days, pleading for me to take my own life seriously.

I hated the attention, but couldn’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand; it would only make him worry more.

“I promise.”

He didn’t believe me, but he accepted my answer, anyway. Lunging forward, his lips crashed into mine without any reservations. I laughed into the kiss, tangling my hands in his hair so that he’d have to fix it again before he could leave me.

It was only funny until I remembered how long it might be until I see him again. I held onto him, deepening the kiss just to drag it out. He was also looking for an excuse, still refusing to part all the way when our lungs had nothing left.

“I love you… so much.” He whispered, resting his forehead against mine for a moment longer.

“I love you, too.”

I’d said it so many times in the past few weeks, but the words still felt new on my tongue. I wanted to say them more, to shower him in my affection, but I didn’t know how. Love was just another language he was fluent in, and I decidedly wasn’t. All I could do was wait for him to translate the thoughts to me whenever I got lost.

“I’m going to try to set up something so I can talk to you, okay? I can’t promise it’ll work but I’m going to try. You remember what I said about the last time I couldn’t reach you.”

Memories of papers scattered on the floor ran through my mind. I could practically feel his hand wrapped around my neck for the first time, holding my life in his hand because I’d trusted him to keep me safe. The vision of waking up in his bed, only to have him lower himself below the sheets, pressing kisses down my stomach.

Things had been so different then. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Those thoughts were suffocating and overwhelming and painful, and I shoved them back into the deepest recesses of my mind. It was too early to be emotional.

I took a deep breath, patting Spencer’s cheek with a soft palm before I summoned all the sarcasm I could in my voice. “I’ll always be with you in your heart,” I joked, smiling as he cringed at the sound.

“I mean it, little girl. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re in for it when I get back.”

Feigning shock and a gasp, I brought my hand to my chest just in time for him to step away from me. The absence of him was colder than it should have been. At least he appeared to be in better spirits, and I wanted to keep it going.

“Dr. Reid, has that ever worked to make me not do something?”

Spencer shook his head with a chuckle, grabbing the rest of his things with more pep in his step. The closer he got to the door, the harder my heart beat. It was deafening and mind numbing in its volume.

Was this how love was supposed to feel? Or had I just grown so spoiled and accustomed to him being here, that I was being entirely selfish? I would no doubt have days to think about it.

He returned to me one more time, running his hand gently through my hair and granting me one more soft, serene kiss in the pale morning light.

“Take care of yourself.” He whispered, the begging bleeding back into his voice. “For me.”

“I will.” I promised before closing my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see him leave. I still heard him hesitate at the door, and I felt his eyes linger on me for a few seconds longer. But then the door clicked shut, and I was alone again.

—————————————————

Nine days. I’d been gone for nine days. It might as well have been a lifetime, because that’s exactly what it felt like. Even worse, I was only able to call (y/n) a whopping three times, each one shorter than the last. We’d only talked for a total of 14 minutes and 29 seconds. And considering that nine days is 12960 minutes, that’s a pretty abysmal fraction.

But it didn’t matter, because as soon as that stupid jet landed in Virginia, I was on my way back to her. Thankfully it was still a normal hour and the sun was still out, albeit quickly setting.

She wasn’t answering my calls, and I tried not to think too much of it. During our last call, she’d told me that she started a new medication that made her sleepy. In fact, our conversation had been so short in part because she fell asleep halfway through the call.

I didn’t mind though, listening to the soft sound of her breathing until the signal went dead again. I’d played the audio over and over again in my head to help me sleep that night, knowing that she was hours away but still dreaming with me.

I was so ready to see her again, that I’d barely knocked on her door before the keys were already in the knob. I didn’t want to wait, I didn’t want to spend another second longer than necessary before I could see her.

But before I could turn the handle, the door swung open and away from my hand.

There were a few people I’d expected to see; (y/n), her roommate, or possibly one of the other female friends the girls had mentioned that I’d yet to see. Unfortunately, it was the one face that hadn’t ever crossed my mind that appeared.

On the other side of the threshold was the man I’d only seen in pictures. To be more specific, one picture, months ago, sent to me from (y/n)’s phone in an attempt to keep her from answering my call.

I recognized him immediately, but realized I’d never actually heard his name.

We stood there for a long time, staring at the other with the utmost hostility in our eyes and postures. I hated the fact that I felt the need to compete with him, but found myself acting out of instinct. I just hoped that he wasn’t as smart or perceptive as her, and wouldn’t notice the insecurity and jealousy that immediately emerged.  

“So you must be the cop.” He drawled, leaning against the doorframe to prevent my entry. The action alone pissed me off, but I bit my tongue in the hopes I could deescalate the situation, despite how much I didn’t want to. There were many things I wanted to say to him, but only a few words came out.

“I’m not a cop.”

“Yeah, she said you’d say that.” He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he recalled a memory of her. I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

“That makes sense. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering it’s not my job.” I stated matter-of-factly, trying to remind myself that the two of them were friends. She’d known him for a long time, and he probably felt just as possessive of her as I did.

The only difference was that I had a reason to believe she was mine.

“Let me guess, your sense of humor is her favorite trait.” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. Normally I’d say that was my role, but right now all that I had to spit back was venom.

Retrieving my key from the door, I contemplated barreling past him to get to her quicker, but realized he was probably hoping to provoke that exact kind of reaction.

“You’re funny.” My face steeled and my fists clenched in my pockets, I peered around his head to the empty hallway behind him. “Where is she?”

“Sleeping.” That stupid smirk was back, his eyes trailing after my every movement, waiting for me to snap. When I didn’t, he escalated his antics further.

“I was about to go join her.” He said, licking his lips and standing up in an attempt to match my height.

But it wasn’t size or age that distinguished the two of us. It was our priorities. Because while he was here, trying to prove himself to me, all I could see was a young boy standing in the way of me seeing her again.

“No need. I’m here now.” I took a step forward, unsurprised to find that he didn’t immediately move out of my way.

He narrowed his eyes, grasping at straws to try and prolong this interaction. I couldn’t understand why, really. He couldn’t honestly believe I’d try to start a fight with him or leave, could he?

“Does she know you were planning on coming by?”

“Why does it matter to you?” I responded with a bored tone, staring him down until I saw his stance falter. It wouldn’t take much longer of this standoff for him to finally recede far enough into the apartment that I could just ignore him.

“Just wondering.” He mumbled, finally taking a step backwards and to the side so that I could enter. He shut the door behind me, but clearly wasn’t done with the conversation.

“Figured she wouldn’t have asked me to come spend the night with her if she knew you were coming. So she must not have expected for you to show up.”

I turned around to face him, knowing that I was playing into his games but unable to resist the temptation.

“She told me you got jealous last time. I would hate for you two to fight again if you found us in bed together. That would be so upsetting for her.”

“Well, you’re off the hook. No miscommunication. No worries at all.” It was times like these that I was grateful for my training, because it was the only thing keeping me from lunging at the boy and slamming him against the wall. I knew he could see it in my eyes.

He clearly had an idea of me in his head, one that was honestly probably pretty accurate. He wanted me to lose control and show that side of me, to prove that he was the better man. But he wasn’t. He’d had several years with her now to prove himself, and she’d still chosen me.

She chose me— that’s all I needed to remember.

“What if I want to stay?” He teased.

“We’ll let her decide.”

That was the first thing I’d said that struck a nerve in him. He resumed his previous stance with his back straight and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re a bit full of yourself for a dude who’s never here.” He spat, puffing his chest. The longer the bravado continued, the less intimidating it became. “You barely even know her.”

I was transported back to when (y/n) and I first started dating, when Morgan had accused me of the very same thing over lunch. My heart wrenched in my chest, because so much of me knew that it was still true.

She’d only just started to share information with me about her past, and still she spoke in vague generalities and half-thoughts. There was so much she hid from me, and I just… let her. I let her hide from me because I was scared that if I pressed her, she would leave.

At least, that’s what I’d thought. But each time someone pointed out how little I knew her, I was forced to consider the possibility that she was keeping me away for a deeper reason.

“I know all the parts of her that she doesn’t want to show you.” He taunted, sensing my anxieties that were clearly written across my face.

“Are you done? I’d like to go see her now.”

He didn’t respond, shaking his head. But I only got a few steps before I heard his voice again, this time louder and angrier.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Knowing that I’m here, in bed with your girlfriend while you’re on the opposite side of the country, not even answering her calls?” He remained rooted in his position at the end of the hall.

I lost the battle of keeping my eyes on her door, ripping them away so that I could turn to face him. My breathing got heavy and my hands finally left my pockets. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” I said, my voice falling quieter instead of growing, “You want to know why?”

The grimace on his face was the only answer I needed. I brought a finger to my own chest, not trusting myself to touch him. I barely knew this guy, and I wasn’t about to start a fight with one of (y/n)’s oldest friends to prove my manhood, especially if that was exactly what he wanted.

“I’m not worried because I trust her.” I practically whispered to him, “And even if I had some reason not to, I’m not intimidated by you.”

A fire appeared in his eyes, the desire to bite back stifled by the knowledge that there was nothing he could say to make me doubt her. He’d already tried and failed every time so far.

“I don’t care what parts of her you think I haven’t seen. Because I get to have the parts of her you wish you could. And she gave them to me willingly and without regret. Over and over again.”

There was so much more I wanted to say, but I was thankfully cut off by the hoarse, familiar voice in the backroom.

“Spencer?” She called, groggy yet excited. There was no way she could hear me from the room, which told me that she’d probably just woken up to my texts and hoped I was here. It told us both that when she woke up, the first person she thought to call was me.

“Yeah.” I said, a soft, genuine smile crossing my cheeks at the thought of her. “Like I said… I’m not worried.”

He didn’t follow me then, staying in the hallway to stew in his anger over the fact that this hadn’t gone at all how he’d planned. But I couldn’t think about him any longer, because as soon as I turned into her room, my heart melted.

She was sprawled out on her bed, hugging a body pillow like her life depended on it. Her hair was a beautiful disaster across her pillow, and the blanket had fallen far enough to see that she was swamped in the same Caltech sweatshirt she wore every time I was gone.

“Hey little girl.”

She slowly shimmied her way up the pillows, clearly surprised at my appearance despite having called me in. With half shut eyes, she spoke through a yawn, “What’re you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept in a week!”

“I missed you.” I admitted quietly, finally bridging the gap between us and climbing onto her bed on top of the covers. I couldn’t even bother taking off my blazer or my shoes; I needed to be close to her now, without any other unnecessary delay.

Despite curling up against me immediately, she still found a way to whine. “You better not have skipped out on anything for me. We know I’m not doing anything worthwhile in here.”

I leaned down to kiss her forehead, my hands holding her against me so that I could breathe in the familiar scent of her hair and perfume. “I strongly disagree.” I sighed, happy to hear her hum and giggle at the way my breath tickled her face.

I didn’t even hear the door open, but she tilted her head away from me to see her friend. I stayed where I was, not wanting to take my eyes off of her again for as long as I didn’t have to.

“I’m gonna head out. Let me know if you need me again.” He said, his voice full of repressed anger and sadness that I understood but didn’t particularly care about right now.

“Thanks for coming! I’ll probably see you next week; I’ll text you!” She chirped, waving to the man who’d already left.

His absence eased away the last remaining bit of tension in my shoulders, allowing me to bury myself in her neck while she continued to laugh. I heard the soft sounds of the tv for the first time and mumbled into her skin.

“What are you watching?”

“Just a sitcom. You wouldn’t be interested.”

She sounded... defensive, if not a little ashamed for her choice in shows. I had to laugh, realizing that she was still unaware of the shows my mom and I used to watch when I was a kid. The asinine, cheesy soap operas that taught me the dorky, awkward way to love that she constantly mocked me for.

I would save that piece of information for later, though, and instead, I chose to show her my own interest in the things she loved, or in the very least found comforting. “What’s it about?”

Apparently, it was the right question to ask. Over the course of the next thirty minutes she tried to condense the entire nine season series of The Office into one barely coherent rant. Eventually, she realized that I wasn’t following along as closely as she’d hoped, and just decided to start the show over.

I didn’t mind. She chastised me a few times for not paying close enough attention after catching me monitoring her reactions more than the show itself. But eventually she fell asleep on my chest, still murmuring about Jim and Pam until the words were just gibberish.

Without her commentary, I was forced to pay attention so that when she undoubtedly woke up and quizzed me, I wouldn’t just be repeating words I’d heard in the background. Somewhat unsurprisingly, I found myself swept up in the romantic storyline of her two favorite characters. So caught up, in fact, that when she woke up, it took me a moment to notice.

“What did I miss?” She grumbled, trying to force her eyes open while she turned to see the tv that displayed the immediate results of a very poorly timed love confession. “Oh, Casino Night.” Her voice was nostalgic and a bit solemn while she spoke. “This is one of my favorite episodes.”

“Why? It’s so sad.”

Without looking up at me, she pondered the question. It was obvious she’d never really thought to question why she was drawn to it. Her answer didn’t provide any comfort or explanation.

“I guess I relate to it. Loving someone like that.” She shrugged before turning back to rest her head against me. She’d said it so easily, like it wasn’t something jarring for me to hear. I realized then that she’d never told me about her past relationships. In fact, I didn’t even know if any existed.

She sensed the anxieties that were building and brought a hand to my cheek to reroute my gaze to her. “What’s wrong?”

“You… You never really talk to me about your life.” My voice was so pathetic, the pout on my lips so childish in its sadness. Because although I told myself I was only upset she hadn’t told me about it, another part of me was also jealous at the idea that anyone else ever got to hold her.

And what a stupid thought that was, to be jealous of men who didn’t get to keep her. I should have been hoping that she had people who loved her and held her and made her happy, not wishing none had existed.

“What are you talking about? We talk about it all the time.” She chuckled, clearly unaware of my inner debate and turmoil.

“I mean your life before me.” I clarified, taking her hand into mine and watching as she carefully wound our fingers together.

“Oh, well… Who cares? It’s in the past.”

She was using that voice that warned me that she was about to try and change the subject. She hadn’t meant to get this conversation started, and now it was quickly getting away from her. But I wasn’t ready to drop it—especially now that I was aware of a huge, life altering event that she’d managed to keep hidden until now.

“I care. If it’s important to you, it matters to me.” It didn’t seem to reassure her, a lopsided smile covering her cheeks before she tried to maneuver away from the topic again.

“What time is it? Shouldn’t you be going to sleep?”

I held up the small notepad that rested on her nightstand, displaying the several timestamps that I could tell were meant to signal the last time she’d taken painkillers. “I was waiting so I could offer you medicine.”

“Ugh, yes please.” She groaned, moving herself off me so that I could grab the bottles beside her bed.

But there was something I’d noticed before, which only became more obvious once I picked them up. I looked past the orange plastic, my mind straining to count the number of pills inside. The date didn’t match the amount.

“Did you fill the narcotics?”

She didn’t answer.

“Is that why he was here?”

“No.” She responded swiftly, shaking her head and rubbing her temples.

The mention of him brought out feelings that I’d almost forgotten, and with those feelings came stupid worries and questions. “...Why was he here?” I mumbled, turning the pill bottles in my hand like I didn’t already have them memorized.

“Are you jealous?” She teased, poking her tongue out at me. It worked to turn my pout into an awkward half-smile, but I was still sulking.

“Would he have really stayed in the bed with you?”

“What? No!” She shouted, sitting up fast enough that she winced, her hand grabbing her stomach but still talking through clenched teeth. “Did he say that?!”

Her reaction alone made me laugh, easing the tension and reminding me it was stupid to worry about it in the first place. “He might have implied it.” My hands started to sort through her tangled hair, gently arranging it back to its rightful place.

“Ugh, he’s such a fucking dick.” She grumbled, wiping her face to try and get rid of the sudden anger.

Meanwhile, I was once again distracted. It was obvious in the way she struggled to keep her eyes open and preventing her hands from turning to fists. She was in way too much pain for my comfort, and it was partially my fault for getting her riled up over something so silly.

But she hadn’t told me she filled the narcotics, and she didn’t tell me where they were. I needed to respect that, if only because I was scared that it might make her doubt me. When she turned to look me in the eyes, I held her cheek that fit so perfectly in the palm of my hand.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me where they are. I understand.”  

“No, it’s fine. I trust you, Spencer. It’s…” The troubled look shifted to a shaky smile. “They’re in my bedside table. I don’t think I can get them myself.”

I tried not to look excited by the reveal in case she misinterpreted my happiness. It wasn’t the drugs I cared about – it was the fact she trusted me with the fact that they existed. That was enough to carry me through any cravings that popped up. They were few, but like always, they were there.

I funneled those feelings into my caretaking, grabbing her a water bottle and helping her ease back down onto the pillow after she’d down the pills. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, listening to soft sound of the theme song in the background.

Just as I shifted my focus back to the TV, she brought me back to her with a tiny whisper.

“You have nothing to be jealous of.”

I looked down to see she still had closed eyes, now accompanied with a genuine smile. I laughed at the sight, and her eyelids fluttered open at the sound. She narrowed her eyes into a suspicious glare.

“Yeah, I... may or may not have said that.” I admitted, wiggling my fingers between hers.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Very cocky, Dr. Reid.” She chastised, squeezing my hand tighter and bringing it up to her chest. I could feel her heart beating softly against us, her chest slowly rising and falling as she started to try to drift off again.

“What else did you guys talk about?”

“Nothing that matters. Let’s go to sleep.”

It was a suggestion that didn’t need to be made, because she was basically already asleep by the time she replied, “Okay. I love you.”

“Sweet dreams, little girl.”

—————————————————

The best part of the week was waiting for the chance to spend two uninterrupted days with (y/n). But this time it was different; when I left her house this morning, she told me she wanted some time to herself.

I tried to ignore the fifty alarm bells that rang in my head, convincing myself that she just needed a break from entertaining me. We all needed alone time sometimes, right?

No, that was a lie. I didn’t ever need a break from her, and it worried me that she needed one from me. Was I stressing her out? Were there more secrets she was keeping from me? It had to be something heavy if she didn’t want me to know, but that’s exactly the time she would need me most, right?

It was times like this when I wished that I had more experience with relationships; I was panicking and I didn’t want to ask anyone for help. I didn’t want to. I was scared that they might tell me the wrong thing, or the right thing. I was worried they might talk some sense into me and tell me that waiting outside my girlfriend’s apartment was creepy, stalkerish behavior.

I knew it was. I tried to justify it with a present that I was going to leave on her doorstep and leave. But when I got to her place, a dread filled me. I shouldn’t have come. She deserved her privacy and my trust. She’d earned it, and it wasn’t right for me to doubt her.

So, I turned my car back on and prepared to leave. But before I could, I saw her. Alone.

We’d talked about it before, and she’d promised me she wouldn’t go anywhere alone. The risks were too high – not just that she might fall or get stranded, but that something could go seriously wrong. Her stitches could tear, or she could overexert herself. She could get into a car crash and no one would know about her already existing internal damage.

She wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone. She’d promised me. But there she was, climbing into her car after suspiciously glancing around. Her car left so quickly, I barely had time to think about the ethics of following her. After a few seconds of wrestling with myself, I decided to just do it and worry about the consequences later.

I’d admit it to her later, when she was safe and sound. Maybe it would be good, too, to see that she was fine without me. I just wished she’d told me so I could come to her aid if she needed me to.

After nearly twenty minutes of driving, I still had no idea where she was going. I was a little surprised she hadn’t noticed me yet, which just goes to show she probably shouldn’t have been driving.

Actually, was she on narcotics?

My mind was spinning, my hands shaking when she finally pulled into a small, unfamiliar cemetery parking lot off the side of the road.

For all her paranoia leading up to this point, she didn’t check the other cars in the lot when she got out. Instead, she put her hand on her stomach and slowly made her way through the gate, hobbling off into the field.

And then I felt terrible for so many reasons. I selfishly felt awful that she didn’t want to bring me here. It hurt that I was violating her trust like this, but it hurt worse to know she was going through it alone.

Leaning back in my seat, I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes, trying to calm down the emotional disaster of my mind. I didn’t need to follow her, I thought. She would come back in a little while, and I could watch her get back in her car. She would make it home, and I could call her and ask her how her day was. Maybe she’d even tell me herself.

God, I was such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come, but now I was here, and I couldn’t leave, either. This was the time she was most likely to be in danger, since the cemetery was relatively empty.

Just as that thought occurred to me, another car pulled in. it wouldn’t have mattered much to me, but the thing that followed caught my attention.

The woman inside the car climbed out and made a beeline to (y/n)’s car, peering into the windows and taking photos of the license plate. At first, I did nothing, trying to keep track of everything that was happening, noting the unfamiliar woman’s license plate number in turn.

But then she took off in the same direction my girlfriend had left in, and I realized that I couldn’t just wait here. This woman clearly knew her, and from the looks of it, it was not going to be a friendly encounter.  

This is why, I thought. This is why I made her promise.

I couldn’t just run out after her yet, so I followed as closely as I could without being clearly visible, relying on sounds, instead. But what I heard was somehow even more distressing than when I could see.

“What are you doing here?! You aren’t allowed to be here!” A scratchy, unfamiliar voice rang through the air. Even if I didn’t already know, her tone alone told me that a fight was about to follow.

I bit down on my tongue, trusting that (y/n) could handle herself. She’d done it before me, and she could do it now. The only thing worse than revealing my presence would be doing it while also discrediting her.

“Mrs. Loughton! I can explain!”

At least I finally had a name for the face, but that was about as far as my thoughts went before they turned to red. Because the only thing I could hear after that was the sound of skin against skin, and the gentle thud of someone hitting the ground.

“Get the hell out of here, you bitch!” The woman screeched, and by the time I came into view, I saw my girlfriend on her hands and knees, holding the very visible red mark on her face. Neither of them saw me, too caught up in each other to notice.

It was the panic on her face, the way she lifted both hands to cover her head when the woman grabbed a fistful of her hair that broke my silence.  

“Hey! Get away from her!” I shouted, running over to the two women. Mrs. Loughton released (y/n)’s hair, causing her to drop back onto her hands and knees while she looked up at me with an angry, frazzled stare.

“Spencer?!”

“Who the hell are you?” The woman spat, redirecting her anger towards me. I much preferred it this way.

“I’m a law enforcement agent, and you just assaulted someone.”

“Assault? Ha!” She laughed, talking over me as if she’d heard the speech a million times before. I got the impression this wasn’t the first time the two have had a showdown. “That’s funny, considering.”

“Spencer, please leave.” The fear overtook any other emotion, and the tears welled so quickly in her eyes it hurt my chest. I couldn’t leave. There was no way I could leave her on her knees in front of this woman.  

“Let me guess, are you one of her dad’s friends?” She sneered, but all I could hear was (y/n) continuing to plead.

“Spencer. Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I couldn’t breathe, my chest heaving with unbridled rage, confusion, and something else I couldn’t even place.

“Oh I bet you are one of his friends. Always protecting her. You’re all a bunch of pathetic, power-hungry lowlifes.”

(Y/n) stood up now, neither of us paying any attention to the raving woman while I tried to help her up. “Please, I want to leave.” She pleaded, grabbing my hand so tightly that it trembled.

“Are you a murderer, too?”

“What are you talking about?!” I snapped, my arms wrapping possessively around (y/n) like I could shield her from everything that was happening. But I couldn’t, and I heard her soft sobs while she pulled on my shirt, now wet with her tears.

“That stupid, selfish little bitch knows exactly what she did, and she knows that she’s not allowed anywhere near here!” Her face was red, her arms waving and tears sprouting in her eyes while she ran out of breath. Then, deathly quiet, she pursed her lips and tried to bite her tongue. But she couldn’t, the words bursting through when she saw the way I held (y/n).

“If you really are a law enforcement agent, then get her the fuck out of here! She’s not allowed on this property!”

“She hasn’t done anything!”

It was the wrong thing to say, and she let me know swiftly and with full force.

“She’s the reason my son is dead!” She shrieked, stepping towards me with an accusing finger in my face. “It was her friends, her drugs, her horrible decisions and now my baby is gone!”

I hated this part. Because as much as I loved (y/n), it was impossible not to hear the absolute devastation in this woman’s voice. And the longer she talked, the more I understood what was happening. Not enough to argue back, but enough to feel sympathy for them both.

More than anything, I wanted to protect (y/n), but I didn’t know how. I held her tighter, trying to show her that she was safe. I’m afraid it had the opposite effect, and she started to fight my embrace.

“It should have been her! She should follow in her father’s footsteps and do the world a favor and...” She cut herself off, knowing the weight of her words and contemplating them a moment longer before making her decision. “And just fucking disappear!”

The shock of it all caused my arms to loosen – just barely. It was enough, though, and before I knew it (y/n) had burst from my arms, taking off at full speed through the headstones.

“(Y/n)!” I choked, going to run after her, but I was stopped one final time.

“Yeah, get the hell out of here.” The woman behind me softly sobbed, trembling as the fight left her. “Go protect her like you always do. They always do.”

I couldn’t stay on the thought; I’d have to come back to it later, because there were more pressing concerns for me than a stranger who’d just hurt the woman I loved. So I turned around and booked it after her just as she slipped through the gate and disappeared into the cover of the woods around the cemetery.

Naturally, she couldn’t stay on the level, manicured grass. My heart was pounding not just at the energy exerted to follow her, but from all the different things that could go wrong. She could fall, she could run into something, she could get lost.

But luckily, even the adrenaline couldn’t stop the pain in her stomach, and she’d barely gotten anywhere before I caught up to her. I loosely caught her wrist, pulling her gently back to me before she nearly collapsed in my arms.

“(Y/n), where do you think you’re going? You can’t be running like this! Especially not here; it’s way too dangerous!” I said through my labored breaths. Then we stopped, and she protested at my touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked calmer now, lifting her back onto her feet. “Did she hurt you?” When I went to lift her shirt to inspect her wound, she brought her hand down in a hard slap.

“Stop, Spencer! Just fucking stop! Don’t touch me! Get away from me!”

The venom dripped from her tongue and burned my skin, my hands jumping back away from her as I took a step back. All the negative emotions that I’d just watched her go through were growing and morphing into a painful anger, and it was all aimed at me.

I deserved it.

“Why the fuck are you even here?! I told you I wanted to be alone today, a-and now you’re what, y-you’re following me?!”

I wished I could just shut up, but the words flowed out of me like I had any right to be angry with her over a promise that didn’t even seem to matter anymore. “And it’s a good thing I did. That woman could have seriously hurt you!”

“Who cares!”

“I do!” My voice strained at the volume I used to match hers. Our angry shouting disrupted the wildlife and broke through the sounds of cars traveling on the highway on the other side of the trees. “You might not care about what happens to you, (y/n), but it matters to me!”

“Why the fuck are you yelling at me?!” And then the sniffles turned to outright sobs, her whole body shaking, her hands cradling her face while she struggled under the weight of everything that had happened so quickly.

I shouldn’t have come here, but I was glad I had. I wished none of this had happened. I just wanted to hold her, but she stepped away when I got closer, defensively covering her head. My heart shattered at the thought of her being scared of me.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I said genuinely, my voice still breaking, but now at an acceptable volume. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling, I-I just… I got scared. I thought you were going to get hurt again and I—“

“Sometimes I’m going to get hurt, Spencer. I can’t put my life on hold for your comfort. I’m only twenty years old. I’m not ready to be a housewife waiting at home for you!” She was quick, stumbling over her words and waving her arms between us in the hopes it would force me to keep my distance.

I didn’t want to hurt her, I never wanted that. And right now, it was very obvious that’s exactly what I was doing.  “Of course. I want you to have a life, but you…”

Her hand was back on her stomach, and the action caused a sudden panic that overwhelmed the logic and sense. “You were shot!” I cried, “You almost died in my arms! I thought I was going to lose you, forever.”

She couldn’t reply yet, her lungs too busy trying to take in hungry breaths without irritating the hardly healed skin.

I clenched my eyes shut, unable to look at it any longer. “It’s been barely a month, (y/n). A-And you’re already sneaking around behind my back and putting yourself in danger and I don’t know how I’m supposed to just turn a blind eye to that.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” She panted; the words hardly audible. Her skin was damp with sweat from the pain that was obviously written all over her.

This time, when I stepped closer, she couldn’t move away. I didn’t hold her yet, opting instead to place one hand on her hip and the other on the side of her face. She sighed, resting her head against my hand. She said she didn’t want to talk to me, but the way she closed her eyes and her heartrate immediately calmed down with the simplest touch told me that she wanted nothing more than for me to pick her up and take her home.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from whatever the hell just happened out there, but you don’t have to do that.” I whispered, gently wiping away her tears with my thumb. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

“Oh, you’re just going to let it go?” I couldn’t decide what was more simultaneously heartbreaking and adorable, her pauses to sniffle, or the way she pouted as she spoke. “You aren’t going to ask me every night until you get an answer?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to trust me again, then yes. I’ll let it go.” I reassured her. She took the answer with an immense amount of relief, leaning forward to rest all of her body weight against me. I tried to stop her from falling too far or too hard, hoping to ease the pain that was already wrecking her.

But she didn’t even seem to notice, rubbing her face against my shirt and further soaking it with tears. I just wanted her to be okay, and I wished I could do it faster. For now, all I could do was pet the back of her head, rocking just a bit to the side in a soothing manner.

We stayed like that for a long time, and I occasionally pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering soft apologies to her and telling her that I loved her, no matter what. Eventually, she responded, her voice filled with guilt and shame again.

“I was going to tell you eventually.”

“I believe you.” I immediately responded, pulling her back to look at me to know that I was telling her the truth. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She gave the tiniest, saddest nod back.

“I would never try to hurt you.” I promised, earning a slanted smile. I mirrored it back to her, which made her laugh.

The sounds of the highway paired with the rustling of the leaves, and the two of us shared a quiet moment of understanding. Because I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I was glad I was there, and she felt very much the same.

“I’d like to go home, please.”

“Okay.” I agreed, taking her hand and maneuvering the woods that didn’t seem nearly as dangerous when her hand was in mine. “Let’s go home.”

—————————————————

“Hotch, I need to ask you for a favor.”

The man didn’t even look up from his desk, and I could tell from his posture that he wasn’t in the mood for the conversation he expected to follow. I couldn’t blame him; I hadn’t been the easiest employee to have for the past couple of weeks.

“Reid, we’ve talked about this. You either have to come back completely or—“

“No, sorry, this… isn’t about that.” I corrected, trying to ease the tension before it got any worse. Unfortunately, he still seemed combative, although there was now a guilt mixed in the frustration.

“I need to talk to you about (y/n)’s father.” I clarified, my voice breaking mid-sentence. I cleared my throat, trying to make eye contact despite the nerves gnawing at the little self-esteem I had.

But after a brief moment of thought, Hotch waved me forward, gesturing to the seat in front of him. He shoved the papers to the side and I wondered what it was he was working so hard on. I had a feeling it had to do with her, but I wasn’t going to ask.

“Does she know you’re asking me about this?”

It was the first question, and although I fully expected him to ask it, I still choked on an answer. He sighed deeply, his hands folding on his desk. He wasn’t able to look at me, either.

“Reid…”

“I-I’m really worried about her.” I needed him to hear the desperation in my voice, to feel just how scared I really was. I didn’t want to come running to him for every little thing involving her — he’d already done so much for her just fending off the prosecutors.

I knew we were both tired, but I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his tone when he talked about her that she meant something to him, too. Even if it wasn’t nearly as much, he’d known her when she was a kid.

Well, I guess to Hotch, she still was. I hated to exploit that knowledge, but I needed answers now. Before something else went horribly wrong. So I broke into a rant, my hands running through my hair and down my legs as I tried to prevent them from turning to fists at the memory.

“The other day she did something and she got into a physical altercation with another woman a-and she told (y/n) that she should follow her father’s footsteps and…” The word caught in my throat. He narrowed his eyes, and I suspected he already knew what I was about to say.

“Disappear.”

Across from the desk, he tensed, bowing his head to look at the files lining the surface in front of him. Every single one of them contained a plethora of information about someone’s family. Someone’s everything.

“What did she mean, Hotch?”

“Reid, the information in that file is not only classified, it’s extremely personal. I’m sure she doesn’t know all the details herself. I think it’s best for you to hear it from her.” He explained it so robotically, I could tell he didn’t want to be saying it. The way his jaw clenched told me that there was a lot he wished he could discuss about whatever the hell happened.

It must be a lonely way to live, I thought. And then I thought of her, carrying the weight of uncertainty on top of whatever Hotch held. She was strong, but she was young. She had been even younger then, and she wouldn’t have had the one man who’d taught her to survive to teach her how to handle what came next.

I wrung my hands together. I didn’t mean to be manipulative, but tears stung at my eyes. They were real, and they were persuasive.

“I just need to know that she’s safe.” I begged. “But your reaction isn’t telling me that at all. In fact, it’s telling me the exact opposite.”

Now that I’d started, the words wouldn’t stop.

“If my girlfriend is in danger, I need to know. It’s not like I care about the mission or whatever her father was wrapped up in — I-I just want to know what happened to him. This woman knew, so apparently it’s not that classified!”

My voice grew in volume, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I could feel his face morph into a scowl even as I clenched my eyes tightly shut. There was so much I hated about this, but nothing more than knowing that despite everything I’ve done, I still couldn’t reach out to her and help her when she needed me.

I was still failing her, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

“Reid, stop.”

Hotch must have been able to read my mind, because something inside of him also snapped, the tension releasing from his shoulders and his jaw. I wondered if it was because he trusted me not to give it away, or if it was because he trusted her.

Either way, he spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you has never been confirmed, and should not be shared outside of this room. Even with her.”

Sitting up with a straight back and a heavy swallow, I nodded.

“I understand.”

—————————————————

| Part 17 |