#I did wonder throughout the book if the criminal was who it ended up being | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

retrievablememories · 3 years

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picture me | johnny (m)

title: picture me pairing: vampire!johnny x black!reader genre: fantasy, romance, smut, fluff, angst summary: you meet a vampire-slash-photographer whose self-identity is increasingly lost to him, and you try to help him find some purpose again. word count: 18.3k warnings: age gap (cuz you know, vampires...but everyone is legal), mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species, self-identity issues/self-deprecation, general angst, sheltered!reader, mentions of blood and drinking blood, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of lube, unprotected sex (do not try at home), creampie, johnny is packing in this fic ok! a/n: today (the 28th) is my birthday, so i’m posting this 100% self-indulgent fic that i’ve been working on between requests since september. it was very hard to get johnny’s characterization right for this fic and idk if i actually succeeded but i’m not revising this for the 1000th time lol. i love this fic with my whole heart tho.

i haven’t seen many vampire fics that really explore the whole “doesn’t show up in mirrors/photos” concept (shout em out if you know em) and...there’s probably a reason for that, this shit is hard af to write and there are some logic issues but whatever 🤪

(the beginning quote is from “criminal,” stan taemin!!)

The moment I fall for you is the end of my innocence

—

He sits in the same coffee shop everyday, like it’s a habit he just can’t break. But who are you to judge? You’re there, too. Watching him like a creep. Or maybe like an interested coffee shop patron, trying to be discreet and failing at it.

He wasn’t hard to notice. You’d never been to this coffee shop before, but your friend recommended it to you mostly for their in-house-made pastries; she claimed the coffee was good, too, but she wasn’t much of a caffeine person. You decided to give it a try when you had time between classes and a moment to breathe, not needing to talk to this advisor or that professor.

You saw him immediately when you walked past the shop window. He was sitting at a table near the front, staring down at his phone with a small cup of coffee sitting in front of him. Its miniscule size was almost comical in contrast to his...everything. He was tall—that much was obvious even with him sitting down—and imposing, wearing all black. His hair was equally pitch-black, his bangs hanging to one side and the rest shaved in an undercut. If you didn’t know much better, you’d think you’d stepped back into 2007 and landed dead in the middle of the emo craze.

He was interesting to look at. Not in a bad way, but in a way you don’t see very often. Deciding to walk in before you made yourself look totally weird staring at him through the window, you’d stepped into the coffee shop, the small bell dinging above your head. A barista greeted you at your entrance. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man, to your left, still looking at his phone.

You’d given your order and waited for it to be ready before taking it to a table on the other side of the shop. From that vantage point, you had a good view of the man. You tried to keep your eyes on your food and your phone, not wanting to spend the whole time looking at him, but it was a little hard not to.

When you took a bite of your pastry, you quickly discovered it was just as delicious as your friend promised—probably even more so. You made a noise of approval before you could catch yourself, and you glanced around the shop in embarrassment to see if anyone nearby noticed. Didn’t seem like it, at first. But then you glanced over to the man again only to find him looking at you below his eyelashes with a small, amused smile on his lips. He only kept his gaze on you for a second before returning to his phone.

What? You hadn’t thought you were that loud. How did he hear you from over there, and above the noise of the café? Even now, you remember how embarrassed you’d felt, ducking your head and looking away.

The man finished his coffee not long after that; he slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. You glanced up only momentarily when he stood, but your eyes soon slid back to his form when you noticed something odd. On the wall behind him, there was a big oval mirror sitting pretty in its elaborate silver frame. He stood just a few feet in front of it, yet there was no reflection of him. The only thing you could see was the other side of the café reflected back, with another man sitting alone at a booth enjoying his own coffee. The tall man’s reflection was nowhere to be found.

That was when you figured he must be a vampire.

You’d never met one before. At least, you didn’t think you had until then.

Unbeknownst to you, vampires are notoriously able to blend in more easily than most other supernatural beings—until faced with situations like that one in the coffee shop. Ultimately, there’s no faking a reflection no matter how hard you try to remain inconspicuous.

The man had caught your eye again. Thinking back on it, you aren’t sure of what expression you had on your face or what it must’ve looked like to him. It must’ve been something akin to surprise, though; you weren’t quick enough to disguise your reaction at his lack of a reflection.

He gave you another smile, though it felt sadder than the previous one, and walked out of the store, the small bell on the door ringing at his departure. He disappeared down the street in a swirl of black fabric, almost like something out of a movie, and you watched him retreat until you could see him no more.

You scraped your index fingernail over the wood table your food was resting on, your mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts. Your interest was piqued. And yet there was no way for you to know if you’d see him again.

—

At least, that’s what you believed then. Luckily for you, your subsequent visits to the coffee shop have proven fruitful; the strange, tall vampire is there more often than not, always in the same spot in front of that same mirror. Sometimes he reads a book, other times he looks at his phone, and other times still, he stares out the window at the passersby.

He acknowledges you whenever he sees you, either with a nod or a smile. You’ve never spoken to each other, though you know what his voice sounds like from hearing him talk to the baristas. It’s a nice voice, rich and handsome like him, and you find yourself gradually wanting to hear it spoken in your direction. But you aren’t sure how to talk to him, or what you should say.

There’s a lot you want to know about him and his vampirism, but you don’t think it’s fair to bombard him with questions right after meeting him—if you could somehow work up the nerve for that first step.

When you were young, your parents made sure to keep you safely sheltered away from anyone who could potentially be a vampire or any other nonhuman being. This game kept up until you went to college, where they could no longer “shield” you. Because of their lifelong fear and disgust, your knowledge of nonhuman beings is scarce and mostly inaccurate.

The man’s skin isn’t deathly pale like you’ve heard others say vampires always are. It’s nicely tanned, in fact. Nor are his eyes red, or his canine teeth abnormally sharp. And obviously, he has no aversion to sunlight, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here during the day. The only visible marker of his inhuman nature is his lack of a reflection. Maybe he’s not a vampire at all? Maybe he’s another type of being entirely. That only makes you more curious.

It’s not rare to come across supernatural beings, but they only make themselves known if they want to, or if it’s imperative to their survival. Most of them would rather quietly assimilate amongst humans or stay safe and hidden within their own communities. Humans are still too judgmental towards those who are different from themselves for nonhumans to feel truly safe or welcomed—at least not on a global scale. Small pockets of communities forged with human allies are helpful and sometimes vital for survival, but not always enough.

These small tidbits of information cycle through your mind as September gradually bleeds into October. You continue watching the thoughtful man in the coffee shop and making up your own secret theories about his life. You haven’t told anyone from school about this, because you already know the reaction would be nothing short of awful. Your parents would only let you go to school at the one university in the city that explicitly didn’t allow supernatural beings; it goes without saying that your classmates don’t view them in a positive light.

Part of you feels like you might be breaking the unspoken rules just by being at this coffee shop all the time and allowing this man to take up space in your mind. But who will know what’s inside your thoughts except you?

One day, your friend decides to accompany you on your lunch break, finally stopping by the café she recommended to you. The man is already there, as usual, and he smiles slightly when you and your friend enter. She doesn’t catch this, too busy wondering what she’s going to get off the menu today.

“I haven’t been here in forever, I wonder if Sam still remembers me?” You know Sam to be one of the baristas there, having read it on their name tag before.

“I doubt there are very many people who’d forget you,” you answer.

When you both have your food, you take a booth farther away from where the man sits, though you can still see him easily from this distance. Your friend settles into the seat in front of you.

You try to keep things inconspicuous throughout your conversation, but you must glance over at him one too many times, because your friend eventually raises her eyebrows questioningly. She turns around in her seat, making it obvious that she’s looking, and you groan as you keep your eyes in the opposite direction towards the window.

“Who’s that guy you keep staring at?”

You cough. “No one.”

“He’s obviously someone. Someone interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“I don’t know the man,” you say curtly. You shuffle your napkin and spoon aimlessly, your nervousness rising. What if he has some kind of enhanced hearing and can hear what you’re saying right now? He definitely heard you make that noise that first day.

Your friend looks at the ceiling and blows air out of her mouth. “Whatever. I’ll find out who he is sooner or later.”

You take a sip of your drink and lower your voice to just above a whisper. Although you want to leave the subject alone, you’re curious about one thing. “You mean you’ve never seen him before? This café was your hangout spot before it was mine.”

She shrugs. “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone as...visually striking as him. Why are we whispering, anyway? It’s not like he can hear us above all this noise.”

You think to yourself, I’m not so sure about that, but you merely shake your head.

You spend a few more minutes talking before movement catches the corner of your eye. At this point, it’s practically a reflex for you to look in that direction. You try not to, but your friend has already caught you and turns her head to spy, too. The man has gotten up for whatever reason to say something to one of the baristas at the counter. Your gaze darts back to your cup after you’ve gotten your eyeful, but you’re nearly startled into dropping the cup at your friend’s gasp.

Oh. The mirror.

She grips the edge of the table. “He’s a vampire…?”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you feel oddly guilty for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “U-um, I don’t know…?” You can hardly finish your thought before your friend is scrambling to grab her purse. She hurriedly stands out of the seat, tugging your arm as she does.

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you serious—?” You feel embarrassed heat rip through your body at her display; some other café-goers are already looking at her curiously, probably wondering what the hell she’s doing. She tugs more incessantly, and you already know she’ll get louder if you don’t get up now and defuse the situation. Leaving your half-full cup behind, you grab your things and follow her out of the store, keeping your eyes firmly on her back as you pass by the man. You don’t know if he looked up, or if he could sense the reason for your sudden departure—you’ve never left the shop before him until now—and you don’t want to know.

Neither of you talk until you’re well down the street and around the corner. “That wasn’t necessary,” you huff, your hands still sweating from the spiked adrenaline at suddenly being rushed out.

“Yes it was! We all know bloodsuckers and all these other weirdos are dangerous...even if they think they’re being well-intentioned by living among humans. I hope you don’t go back there.”

“Whatever...you’re the one who told me to visit the café,” you mumble, unable to muster up the energy to say anything more. You both know very well she can’t tell you where to go, but you hope she doesn’t mention this to your other acquaintances on campus and make it into a bigger deal than it is.

When you part ways with your friend and get back to your dorm, you realize you’re missing your planner. The planner with all your upcoming assignment dates in it. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, knowing it must’ve happened in the chaos of her pulling you out of the shop. Maybe if you’re really lucky, it’ll still be there, picked up by an employee or simply left untouched. Knowing how many people go through that café in a day, you’re not optimistic.

For the first time since visiting the quaint little shop, you’re not anticipating returning and seeing the man again, afraid he’ll ignore you or look at you with distaste—like you’re just another unsympathetic human. And would he be wrong to think that? You’re only strangers to each other.

You try not to dwell on it too hard when you go to bed that night.

When lunch rolls around the next day, you hesitate a couple times on your way to the café, not wanting to show up. However, the desire to see what became of your planner pushes you forward. You don’t even have to stay; if it’s there, you’ll take it and leave. If it’s not—oh well. You can still leave. It’s not hard to buy another.

He’s there when you arrive, of course.

He nods at you when you step inside, though he doesn’t smile as he’s become accustomed to doing. You nod back, but you can’t ignore the renewed rush of embarrassment you feel. You linger at the entrance for a second longer, wondering if maybe you should say something. Apologize, even? But what if he really didn’t know what was going on yesterday? Then how odd would you look for bringing it up?

You decide to move on and go back to the booth to search for your belongings, but his voice stops you. This takes you by surprise.

“Did you come back for this?”

You turn to him to see him holding your planner in his hand. You stare, momentarily dumbfounded, and almost shake your head before realizing it is yours. Definitely the same sticker-covered, scribbled-all-over planner.

“Oh—y-yeah. Thank you.” He passes it to you, though you notice he’s very careful not to let your hands touch. You’re a little perplexed about why, but then the rumors about vampires having cold skin pop up in your mind. Maybe that’s actually true, too. “I usually don’t lose things so easily, but…” Your voice falters, and you don’t know how to finish that sentence without bringing up the other day’s events.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he replies, “It happens to all of us sometimes...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my camera.”

“You take pictures?” you ask, a tinge of curiosity in your voice.

He nods. “I take photos of anything that interests me. Which often ends up being everything I see. I work at an art museum, so I guess having an eye for photography comes in handy.” He hesitates for a second, then says, “I could show you some?” He waves his phone, indicating that the photos are there.

“Oh, sure.” The man gestures for you to sit down in the empty chair in front of him, and you do so. He swipes through his phone a few times until he settles on what he’s searching for, then puts the device on the table and slides it to you. You lean forward to look at it and see that it displays an album full of pictures, simply titled with the emoji “🌌.”

“It’s okay, you can pick it up.” He chuckles. You pick up the phone and swipe through the numerous pictures. Many of them are nighttime shots of the moon, trees, half-empty streets, darkened storefronts. Others depict nature scenes at sunset or the beginning of sunrise, with the sky colored in darker hues. No matter what the subject matter is, they all look to be professionally taken, even for an iPhone.

“Wow, these are nice. You said you work at a museum…are you a professional photographer, too?”

The man shrugs, and as you look at his slight grin, you realize you still don’t know his name. “Something like that, I guess.”

“You should be if you aren’t already,” you say, looking through more photos. “I’m sure you’d make a lot of money.” When you reach the end of the album, you go to hand the phone back to him but realize he’ll probably want to avoid contact again, so you slide it across the table. He takes it and slips it into his pocket.

“I don’t really care about the money,” he responds. “I just like it because…” He trails off, unsure how to convey his thoughts, wondering if he should even get that personal with a stranger. “It...helps me pass the time.” He’s not quite satisfied by that answer—it doesn’t feel like enough—but it’s all he can think of on the spot.

“Well, that’s nice too. It’s always good to have a hobby just for the sake of it...not for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

“Do you have one?” He takes a sip of his coffee. You don’t expect to be asked about your own interests, and your mind goes blank as you try to think. Why does this always happen when I’m asked these kinds of questions?

“Um, just different things here and there.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, amused.

“It’s not that, I just don’t have a ton of hobbies or anything. I’m kinda boring, so…” And wasn’t allowed to do much of anything until I left home.

“Being boring isn’t always a bad thing.”

You lean back in your seat, shrugging slightly. “Maybe if you see it that way. My friends don’t.”

“Would one of those happen to be the same one who dragged you out of here yesterday?” He speaks casually, putting his cheek in his hand. You slump further down in your seat, feeling exposed. Of course there was no escaping this topic. He notices your mood shift and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel so bad about it. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry for all that mess,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Really, I am.” You stand up from the seat, gripping your planner. “Thanks again for this. I don’t want to take up any more of your time today.” You’re about to turn to leave when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know…you could talk with me whenever you feel like it.” That’s the last thing you expect him to say. His voice takes on a quality that’s...not what you’d call begging, but it’s clear he’d enjoy some company. Maybe he’s doing this for your benefit as well as his own, because it’s obvious how your eyes always stray to his little corner.

You nod, giving him an apprehensive smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

The rest of your day after that is uneventful, full of classes and unexciting lectures, but you keep thinking of one thing. Though he appears to enjoy his time in the coffee shop, how lonely must he really be? There’s never anyone else around him. His eyes when he’d spoken to you held a certain sadness.

And you still didn’t get his name.

You don’t see him for the next few days, mostly because you aren’t at the café. You’ve gotten busy with a new project and haven’t had as much time to return to the coffee shop, mostly spending your time in the library instead.

When you finally get a chance to buy lunch outside campus, he’s not there. This disappoints you more than you thought it would, and you wonder what his absence means. Did he just decide not to come today, or has he found another place to frequent? You kind of hope the second option isn’t the case, though you also don’t know why you’re even caring this much about where someone else goes on their own time.

You get a drink to-go this time, deciding you’ll just take it back to the library and continue your studies there. The entryway bell rings behind you as you wait for your order to be made, though you don’t pay it much attention; half of your mind is still occupied with what you need to do next for your project.

When you turn around to leave the shop with your drink, you’re surprised to see the man standing there, waiting to get his own coffee. “You’re late,” you blurt out. You immediately feel silly for saying it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gives you a slight smile. “Yes, I am.” Then he spots your to-go cup. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, well,” you glance at your drink, “are you staying?”

He nods as he steps up to the counter. “Yeah, I’m staying. My offer’s still open, by the way.”

Right. The offer to talk to him sometimes. You’re tempted to stay awhile and talk to him now, though you don’t even know what about. Your project? That’s boring. Him being a vampire? Too invasive. Your school? Also boring, and probably not the best idea considering which one you attend.

“I...think I’ll stay, then.”

You both sit at his usual table, with you grinning nervously.

“How are you? I noticed you hadn’t showed up in a while,” he asks, settling back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, I’m just busy with school stuff. These teachers don’t give us a break.” You laugh a little, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He grins. “I never did go to college, but I’ve always heard others talk about how tiring it is. And expensive.”

“They’re right.” You roll your eyes at the thought of it. “But I guess it’ll all be worth it in the end. Maybe. If the economy isn’t in the toilet.” The sound of his laughter is nice, and you’re glad you could make him laugh. “Also, I’m sorry—I don’t know how this flew under the radar, but I don’t know your name.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for, really. It’s Johnny.”

You tell him your name, too. “Since I haven’t seen you lately...how are you doing?” You circle your hands around your to-go cup, feeling its warmth transfer to your palms as you await his answer.

“I think I can say I’m the same as always—which is fine. Life slows down a little when you have a lot of time on your hands.” Johnny’s lips quirk up at that, and you think he might be referring to his vampirism. Your eyes widen a little.

“What’s that like? Having so much free time. I wouldn’t know much about that right now, but…”

“Maybe not as pleasant as you think it’d be. But there’s good in it. Like coming and going when you want to. And you can take up whatever interests you want without worrying as much about busy schedules.” You already know he’s alluding to his photography. “I do like having a job, though…it gives me structure.”

“You’re probably right…I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I had a ton of free time…like, which hobbies to pick up first.” You consider how you initially thought about him being lonely and wonder if that’s one of the unpleasant parts he hinted to. “Speaking of hobbies...did you take any new pictures lately?”

Johnny nods. “Most of them were on my camera this time, but some are on my phone. You want to see?”

“Yes!”

Johnny lets you have his phone again to look through the newest pictures he’s taken. There are varying shots of car-lined streets and storefronts, some of the latter decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns for the onset of October. A pigeon sits on a streetlamp during the daytime, holding its head up like royalty upon a throne. In another image, a stray cat and her kittens huddle in an alley, the babies grooming each other while the mother looks quizzically at the camera.

You recognize a few photos from the nearby park; he also had some pictures of it the last time you looked. “Do you go to this park often?”

“Yeah, it offers some great shots. It’s especially pretty if you go just before the sun sets...the light filters through the tree leaves and it looks kinda like a kaleidoscope.”

“Ah, I’ve never seen that before…” you say a little sadly. Your parents didn’t much like taking you to that park when you were younger because of how far it is from their house. And since living away from them, you’ve only been able to visit it during the early hours of the day—like now.

Johnny looks closely at you. “Would you ever want to?”

“If it’s as pretty as you say, I should.” You slide the phone back across the table to him, not catching what he’s trying to hint at as you keep talking. “Do you go anywhere else besides here and the park?” As soon as you say it, you realize this might sound a little rude and try to make a quick save. “I mean, do you have any other favorite places? I’m not trying to say you don’t have a life or anything!”

Johnny laughs at your slight panic at thinking you’ve offended him. “Nothing too out-there, I guess. The bookstore, the photography store, the theater. Pretty much all the same places others visit.”

“The movies are fun.” You trace your finger across the table’s surface, thinking of your own favorite spots. “Me and my friends like to go downtown. There are a lot of cute little shops down there…”

You and Johnny talk for a while longer, and you almost forget you have to get back to campus until you glance at the wall clock. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late.” Flustered, you jump out of your seat and crumple your empty cup. “Sorry to cut it short, Johnny, but I gotta go back now.”

He smiles good-naturedly and nods, his dark bangs sweeping his face. “I understand.” As he watches you gather your things and get ready to go, he speaks up again. “Actually, if you want to see the park at sunset sometime...I could show you? It’s up to you.”

You pause, suddenly curious at the thought of seeing him outside the café. In the back of your mind, you feel a little paranoid and afraid of your friend or maybe even your parents seeing you there with him, though the latter is extremely unlikely. It’s hard to shake that familiar fear of judgment and ostracism when it’s been ingrained in you since childhood. “That sounds good. If it’s not any trouble for you…?”

“Never too much trouble. I usually get off around 4 on Fridays, just before the sun sets at 5. Unless the weekend is better for you?”

You nod, holding your books tighter to your chest. “Friday will work for me! I’ll meet up with you then.”

Johnny smiles. “Great; I’ll see you then, kind stranger.”

Maybe he says it to be joking or quirky, to sound like one of those characters in a movie or drama, but it makes you smile. Nodding to him again, you step out of the café and rush towards the direction of your school. Johnny watches as you retreat, your roles reversed.

You meet up with Johnny at the park that Friday, just as you both agreed. You spot him sitting on a bench near the park entrance, waiting on your arrival.

Johnny’s wardrobe is still mostly dark, but it’s a little lighter than usual today. He’s changed things up with a white polo shirt underneath his black sweater. Seeing him dressed like this, you wonder what he’d be like as a student, or maybe even a university professor.

He stands up when you get closer, hearing the sound of your footsteps approaching and turning towards you. His camera sits safely around his neck, the lens catching in the light of the sun.

When you stop in front of him, he smiles at you warmly. You try to relax into the genuineness of that smile and ignore the still-lingering traces of anxiety about being out with him. “Hi, Johnny!”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You and Johnny walk around the park as he looks for something interesting to shoot. He snaps a few shots of the trees, fallen leaves, bushes, and other natural elements along the way, though it seems like he hasn’t quite captured what he wants yet.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you ask, peering at his camera as he holds it in his hands.

“There’s an aster bush around here,” he responds. “It hadn’t fully bloomed yet the last time I was here, but it should be open by now.”

It turns out he’s right as you two finally come up on the bush. Its blooms make bright purple smudges against the rest of the landscape, which is a monochrome red-and-orange palette from the leaves changing their hues. You watch as he comes up to the bush carefully and quietly, like it’s a small animal he’s afraid to scare away. Johnny is very attentive while taking pictures of it, always conscious of getting the correct lighting and securing the exact angles he wants to capture. “Compassionate” is not a word you’d usually associate with the act of taking photos, but that’s the only word you can currently think of to describe this display. He treats the flowers with a peculiar sense of respect, as if they’re a human subject.

After he’s gotten the images he wants, Johnny offers you his camera to take a few of your own. You’re anxious about holding his prized possession and are afraid you’ll find a way to mess something up, but he promises you it’s fine. You take a few shots of the sky, still with a few wisps of clouds left, and a nearby tree that’s almost stripped bare of leaves. You know the shots will probably end up blurry from your unsteady hands, but Johnny tells you you’ve done a good job anyway.

Something about getting his approval makes a pleasant warmth settle in your chest.

As you both walk down a long trail, you finally ask him, “Sorry if this is invasive, but I was wondering how old are you? Like...as a vampire.” Your voice becomes hesitant on the word vampire, even though you’re the only two in this part of the park.

He chuckles a bit. “I’m 85.” You try not to look surprised. “I’ve been turned for 60 years. Old, but probably a little younger than most vampires you’d think of.”

“Kinda,” you say quietly. “They’re always like 2,000 years old in movies.”

“The ancient vampires are purebloods. They keep to themselves and avoid mingling with turned vampires, let alone humans. Some people are even skeptical if they exist. Supposedly, they use humans as servants or blood banks.” He gives you an apologetic look after saying this, though you don’t really know why. You don’t get the feeling he’d do that to another being, but he is still mostly a stranger... “At least, that’s what my mentor told me.”

Your curiosity is roused at all this new knowledge. “You had a mentor?”

“An older woman. She was also a turned vampire.”

“Turned, huh…”

Johnny nods, toeing at a small pile of leaves on the ground. “She went away eventually, said people are meant to pass in and out of each other’s lives. I don’t think she ever had intentions to stay. But I enjoyed her company while she was there.” Johnny stops at a short bridge above a small manmade lake, and you both look down into the water.

You place your arms on the bridge railing so you can lean over more. You notice he doesn’t have a reflection in the water, and this startles you more than you expected. Before meeting this strange man, you’d never thought much before about why vampires don’t have mirror reflections, but it seems even more unnatural to see this phenomenon happen again in the lake.

You find yourself looking at the side of Johnny’s face, trying to read his expression as he peers into the water’s depths. He turns to you, and you flinch at being caught staring, but he only smiles slightly. You force yourself to form words and break the silence. “What—what did you do after she left?”

“Lived on my own. She taught me a lot of things to help me live independently as a vampire, so it wasn’t too difficult to get along without her...but emotionally? A different story.”

“You sound like you had a very close relationship with her.”

“Yes. Quite close…” Johnny’s tone suggests something deeper, more intimate than a regular friendship. You feel a bit astounded at the idea of him having an older, more worldly lover while being only a newly changed vampire. Your reaction makes you feel foolish, inexperienced. Still, you can’t help imagining a scenario of them living in a big, dark mansion somewhere in the mountains, rolling around in a bed with bloody red sheets—and maybe drinking from the occasional naïve, misled human hiker.

Strangely, too, you feel jealous at his freedom, his ability to go wherever and do whatever with whoever he wants without overbearing relatives always just a step away.

You continue staring at the ripples as they circle in and out of the water’s surface, the motions triggered by a small orange leaf falling into the lake. You’re unsure of what could be the right thing to say to his admission, so you blurt out whatever comes to mind next. “You said she taught you to live independently as a vampire. What does that mean? How do you get...you know. Blood?”

“There are ways,” Johnny says cryptically, which makes your own blood rush faster. He turns to you with a grin, like he finds your naivety endearing. “It’s nothing drastic, though. At least, not for me. I never drink directly.” It does make sense that there are other ways to drink human blood without taking it straight from their necks, though you can only speculate on which methods he prefers. “Drinking directly is lethal, and often not worth it.”

“So, it’s true that vampire bites can kill?” You watch as Johnny pushes himself off the railing, and you follow him as he continues down the trail.

“It’s not false. But it’s never really that simple.” Johnny’s answer is mysterious, and he doesn’t elaborate further. He turns to you. “Where did you hear that, anyway? Your university? The one that bans all nonhuman beings?”

“You know where I go to school?” You feel embarrassed, thinking he must assume you’re like the rest of the student body who hates nonhumans but still nurtures an odd obsession with them.

“I saw it on your notebook one day, the school insignia. I’m not a stalker, by the way.” You laugh only slightly, and Johnny seems crestfallen when he notices your apprehension. “I don’t care if you attend school there. Just because you do doesn’t mean you think the way they do.”

“You must think I’m some weird opportunist, then,” you mutter, heat finding its way to your face. “Asking you all these questions...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think anything except that you’re a pleasant person to be around.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the compliment sink in. You think you should probably give him one of his own, but before you can, he says, “Look. The sun’s already setting.” Just like he told you before, the dying rays filter through the tree leaves and create impossibly intricate patterns on your surroundings. You hold your hand out and watch the latticework that the leaves create dance over your open palm.

You let Johnny take a picture of your hand with the tree shadows flitting over it, but you shy away from the camera’s lens when he points it higher to your face, a questioning look in his eyes. “Maybe some other day.”

You walk around for a while longer until the sky bleeds into a dark purple. “I guess I should be going soon. It’s getting late,” you say, though you’re also a bit sad over your evening with Johnny meeting its end.

“Do you want me to take you back to campus? You shouldn’t walk back alone. My car is just in the parking lot there.” He points to it where it sits in the distance.

You look at Johnny with a confused gaze. “But you can’t come on campus. They have...things to ward off vampires.” Like gates made of pure silver, displaying intimidating, elaborately designed crosses. You don’t know if any of it actually works, but it’s probably better not to find out.

Johnny doesn’t seem bothered by this information. “Yeah…I know. I can just drop you at the street across from the main gate.”

You hesitate a moment longer but eventually agree. He is right; you’d rather not walk alone at night, and getting a ride with him is better—and cheaper—than calling for a rideshare.

The ride to the college is fairly quiet, with the radio filling the silence. It’s not an awkward type of stillness, at least, which you’re grateful for.

As he said he would, Johnny parks on the side of the street that sits in front of the main gate, just outside the immediate vicinity of the campus. The metal crosses stare back at the both of you, glinting in the light of nearby streetlamps. You turn your face away from them, biting the inside of your cheek.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks again for the ride. I guess I’ll see you back at the shop next week, yeah?” Again, you get the urge to say something, anything, to remedy or cover up the foreboding source of discomfort sitting just in front of you, but there’s no one sentence you could say to wipe away decades of hatred.

Johnny nods and smiles, and still he shows no signs of being disturbed. He doesn’t cast another glance at the gates. “It’s no problem. See you then.”

You get out of his car and cross the street to get inside the gate; it’s early enough in the evening for it to still be open. Any later, and it’d be locked shut to even humans. You risk another wave at him before turning back around and heading for your dorm, which sits a few yards from the entrance. Johnny lets the car idle on the side of the street until you’ve walked into the dorm, and only then does he drive away.

It doesn’t take very long for you to warm up to Johnny inviting you to other places. The next time you and him go somewhere other than the coffee shop, you accompany him as he buys some film for his camera on one of his free days. You don’t know a ton about photography, so you’re more than happy to let him tell you all about how film works and why he buys certain kinds over others.

The place he frequents is a specialty photography shop that still carries older varieties of film—ones that fell out of favor once digital cameras became a thing. The store looks noticeably old, but not in an unkempt or decrepit way. You can tell it’s been around for a while, holding all kinds of history in its structure.

“There are so many different types.” You look over a shelf of film rolls in awe. “How can you tell them all apart?”

Johnny laughs. “It gets easier if you’ve been doing it for a while…or a few decades.” He picks one up from a row of them and holds it in front of you. “35mm is the most common type, which is what you’ll find the most of when you look through any film shop. That’s what I use.”

He sets that one down and walks past another display of film rolls, gesturing toward them. “There’s also 120 and 220 film formats here…those work for even older cameras, sorta like ones you’d see in 1930s movies. You can even turn a film camera into a digital camera.”

You nod to his words, looking over what seems like millions of film canisters—and occasionally glancing at the lines of his broad back as he walks ahead of you. “You should teach a photography class. I’d be more willing to listen to you than some old professor.”

Johnny snickers. “Huh, I don’t know. Not a professor, but I am old.”

You both continue walking through the store, with Johnny giving you the rundown on every item that catches your interest.

Like the coffee shop, there’s another mirror in this store. Many more, actually—there are whole rows of them on a series of shelves, all in varying sizes and shapes. They create a fragmented view of your form as you stand in front of them, though you don’t initially realize you’ve crossed into their glassy line of sight. You’re busier with looking at a roll of film Johnny’s handed you. When you notice your reflection shifting in your peripheral view, you look up.

Johnny’s only a few feet behind you, and you know this because you can hear him and feel his presence. Yet, it’s strange to see yourself as the only person in the aisle.

Eventually, he notices what’s got you preoccupied and comes to stand next to you. Though you see him clearly in front of your eyes, there’s no trace of him in the glass reflections.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the aching loneliness of it—how it must feel to never see yourself. You can see him with your own eyes, and so can everyone else who encounters him, but what must it be like to be virtually invisible outside of other peoples’ perceptions of you? You almost feel utterly alone even though you know he’s beside you.

Noticing your sudden melancholy, Johnny takes the film roll from your hand and tosses it up in the air, making it look like it’s moving on its own in the mirrors. He means to lighten the mood, if only to see the cloudiness disappear from your expression. It works to a degree, though you still feel downcast deep below.

“It’s not good to dwell on it.” Johnny presses the film roll back into your hand, still carefully avoiding skin contact. He has no problem meeting your eyes, though, and you shyly look away from his dark gaze after a few prolonged moments.

“You’re right,” you say softly, turning back to the aisle and away from the rows of mirrors.

—

You and Johnny head to the coffee shop after your trip to the photography store. Once you get your drinks and sit down in your usual spot, he speaks suddenly. “Something’s wrong.”

Your eyes dart around the shop, thinking he’s referring to one of the patrons around you. “What? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out a bit panicked. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he does.

“No, I mean...something’s wrong with you. You seem far away.”

“Oh…” You wonder if you should even bring it up and potentially ruin the mood. But you have been curious for weeks now, and you don’t think you’ll get a trustworthy answer by asking anyone other than him. “I just...I was wondering why you don’t have a reflection. I know it’s a vampire thing, but I’ve never really known why...you don’t need to answer, though. Like you said, it’s not good to dwell on it.”

Johnny makes a motion like a half-nod once your question is revealed, his eyes darting to the window and back to the table. His fingers trace across the rim of his coffee cup, a thoughtful but stormy expression on his face, and you’re afraid you shouldn’t have reawakened this topic. “You know...being undead means being in two places at once.”

“Two places?”

“We are caught between the living world and the world of the dead. Something that’s not really supposed to exist, yet…” He’s quiet for a moment. “You can only imagine the kind of issues and side effects that can cause. One of them being no reflection.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you say. “Two planes of existence...what does it mean to be a part of the world of the dead?”

“Our blood runs slower. Ours is more like sludge compared to yours. The heart beats only a few times per minute. Don’t need to eat or sleep, either, though many vampires still do.” Johnny pauses. “How much do you really know about vampires?”

“I don’t know much about any of this...stuff.” You gesture vaguely, meaning all supernatural beings and not just vampires. “No one ever told me these things growing up, and it’s hard to tell truth from fiction at school. People will say anything, horrible things, and you just take it at face value, I guess. I never really thought to try to find the reality.” You sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world who doesn’t know anything.”

“Learning is good. You can always learn. I don’t think it’s too late for that.” Johnny’s voice is a little lighter. “Anyway, everyone’s knowledge is different. Sometimes it slips my mind that everyone doesn’t know what it’s like to live as a vampire, though the world never lets me forget for long.”

“Then…do you hang out with other vampires who do understand? Or…maybe humans who can sympathize?”

Johnny gives a humorless laugh. “Most humans are hesitant to interact with us, if not full-out terrified or disgusted. At the museum...it’s less pronounced because all the employees already know. They…tolerate it. But every time someone else realizes what I am and doesn’t take well to it?” He shakes his head, acts like he’ll say something else, and then abandons that line of thought. “And do you really think I’d want to spend my free time around other bloodsuckers?” He tries to play it off as a joke, but you’re more inclined to think he actually feels that way. You can only nod, feeling bad for him but also a little disturbed by his view of his own kind.

“I think you’re a kind person, and you being a vampire doesn’t affect that,” you say hesitantly. “I like talking to you. And even if you feel that way about other vampires, I…wish you wouldn’t feel that about yourself.”

Johnny remains quiet, but he nods. You wonder about the struggle occurring in his mind. The only outward hint of his uneasy state shows in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tense set of his mouth. With his right hand resting on the table, he rubs his fingers together absentmindedly, like he’s analyzing your words. You have a sudden and startling desire to hold his hand, to twine your fingers together and feel his skin on yours for the first time, but you don’t dare cross that boundary.

He finally replies with, “You’re much kinder to me, an old and bitter vampire, than you probably should be. But maybe that’s a good thing about you.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” you agree, your voice low. “Every living being needs companionship. Good companionship, anyway.”

The corners of Johnny’s lips shift in something reminiscent of a smile. He turns a rueful gaze once again to the window, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Aren’t I lucky to have yours, then.”

On a day when you don’t have as many responsibilities to juggle, you visit Johnny at the art museum after his working hours are up. He’d already invited you to come to the museum any day you felt like so he could show you around.

When you get there, he’s waiting in the visitor’s lobby for you, framed by receding sunlight as the day starts fading into night. He looks the same as he always does when you see him in the café on his lunch breaks, but within the context of the museum, he suddenly seems more…alive? Vibrant? He could’ve served as a muse for one of the many statuesque, perfectly proportional sculptures in the museum, and you’d never know anything different.

Your heartbeat increases at the sight of him, just enough to be outside the normal range.

“Hi, Johnny. I hope your day went well?”

“It was fine, nothing too crazy. But it’s better now.” And he smiles at you, sincere enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh—that’s great.” That’s it? You scold yourself internally, but you aren’t quick enough to think up a witty reply to his comment before the topic shifts.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see first?” Johnny asks, leading you further into the museum.

“I guess I hadn’t thought too deeply about that…do you have a favorite exhibit? I want to see what you like.”

Johnny smiles faintly. “Let’s see, then.”

The dark-haired man takes you to a section of the museum filled with oil paintings, all by one singular artist. At first, all you see is varying shades of black and gray and red, with some white splashed in between. When you begin looking at the paintings more closely, it’s easier to see that each one depicts a different scene of chaos. Maybe a sort of organized chaos, but disarray all the same.

There is one picture that holds a clearer subject than the rest. One of the oil paintings is of a vampire—obvious by the fangs—with bloodied lips and anguished eyes. You pause when you catch sight of it, your steps stilled by the sheer frenzy in the other being’s painted eyes. Their hands reach out for the viewer as if begging for an escape that can only be provided by whoever’s observing.

“This one was painted by a fellow vampire, you know. The same one who did all the rest of the paintings in this gallery,” Johnny explains. He points at the placard next to the painting that displays the artist’s name and a short description of the piece. The word fellow comes off his tongue wrapped in cynicism. “And it was one of the ones I personally chose for this exhibit.”

You glance at him, a tinge of surprise blooming in your chest. “Really?”

He nods. “Who better to depict the ills of vampirism than a vampire themselves? I thought it was a…fascinating change of pace from all the humans who try and fail to do so, ironic as that is.”

If you look at the painting for long enough, you think you can recognize sadness in the corners of the vampire’s eyes—pure, unadulterated sadness. Different from anguish or panic. A similar mask of sadness you’ve seen on the man next to you.

You say nothing for a while. You simply feel the painful throb of your heart in your chest and listen to the small sounds around you. Even now, there are still other people exploring the museum and walking through this very exhibit, but you can’t hear or see any of them. Johnny notices the disconcerted look on your face, and his forehead creases. “But I’m sure you want to see something less…morbid than this, right? Come on.”

“Uh, I-I don’t mind,” you insist, even though you feel like you’ve just awoken from a painful trance by the sound of his voice. But he’s already gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

The next set of paintings you end up in front of are a series of sunflower studies. One frame depicts the long green stems; another provides an up-close view of their lined petals. One zooms in close on the flower’s brown center, only small glimpses of yellow left at the edges of the frame.

“This is definitely very different.” You look at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. “But it fits you. I see why you like it.” You remember him back in the park, taking careful pictures of the aster bush and of your hands…and then offering to take one of you. You don’t know why that last one makes your stomach jump.

“I thought you might like it.” Johnny’s eyes linger on your face as he observes your reaction to the paintings. He’s seen these flowers probably a hundred times by now in this permanent exhibit, but the wonder in your expression is new to him.

—

You both walk through a few more exhibitions after that, all with different subjects and mediums—some consist of sculptures, others are clay vases and figures. There’s still a lot to see in the museum, but you’re starting to get hungry, and you know Johnny has already heard your stomach growling.

After the 2nd time it happens and you think you might melt from embarrassment, he grins at you and makes a suggestion. “Let’s go to my office. I’ll get my things and we can eat. The restaurant here is pretty good—or at least that’s what everyone else says…”

When you get to his office, you feel almost like you’ve stepped into a room from years past. Your gaze drifts across his desk immediately; it’s not sleek and modern like you’d expect, considering the rest of the museum’s aesthetic, but wooden and heavy and vintage-looking. It’s olden quality resembles everything else in his personal space. Even his desk chair, a big and plush thing, feels vintage with its soft leather and rustic design.

This feeling is far from a bad thing, though. You enjoy the aged look of the bookcases, the picture frames, the chairs, the small decorations here and there—everything about this room.

Johnny notices how you look around, studying everything in sight, and smiles. “It’s not the most modern, but I like it.”

“It’s perfect. Like a world of its own.”

“A woman of taste, I see.” Johnny puts a hand over his heart, giving an expression like he’s truly touched, and you can only grin sheepishly. When he has his belongings, he leads you out and locks the door behind him.

“Let’s see what they have on the menu today, then.”

—

You get dinner at the museum’s restaurant, just as Johnny recommended, and he even decides to eat too. Maybe he does it so you won’t look odd being the only one eating, or because he really just wants to; he doesn’t let on. Either way, sitting across from him like this in a fancy restaurant with both of you having a nice meal feels almost like a date. You let that thought amble around for a few minutes longer before tucking it back into one of your mind’s many small niches.

“I’ll probably be digesting this for the next few weeks,” he says jokingly, pulling a mock-disappointed face at his plate.

“That sounds like the worst constipation in history.” He snorts at your comment, his eyes creasing as he laughs. You notice he has a dimple when he smiles, and your grin mirrors his. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh quite so genuinely before, but now that you’ve experienced it, you want to hear it again and again.

Anything is preferable to the perpetual gloom, always slinking around the corner.

—

When Johnny gets back home after dropping you off at the university, he undresses himself and showers and pulls on his bedclothes, which are nothing more than his underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His upper canines ache in his gums the entire time he goes through these motions, like two pulses of red-hot heat positioned on either side of his mouth.

He takes a blood bag from the fridge and drinks it in bed, leaning his arms against his knees. A sudden remembrance manifests itself in his mind; he hears the hazy echo of his mother’s decades-past voice in his head, reprimanding him for eating in bed. A sharp pain grips his chest, and he tries to send it back to the depths where it belongs.

When the blood hits his stomach, the pain is eclipsed by the bloodlust, which is no better. His fangs drop immediately, spiking into his lower lip. Johnny closes his eyes and, very gingerly, allows himself to draw a picture of you in his mind, of your blood in his mouth and your heartbeat roaring in his ears. The way your blood would flow out so delicately, crashing into his tastebuds like the high tide. He is usually better than this at curtailing his bloodlust, not even letting it reach the point of his canines hurting—he can’t remember the last time that’s happened—but being around you sets him on edge. Awakens him in some strange, raw way.

That only makes him more wary. And more guilty about imagining himself drinking your blood. He shouldn’t even be around you if he’s losing his grip on his hard-won control. But although it makes him feel ashamed, it also causes his heart to rush.

He drains the blood bag to the last possible drop. To his relief, it calms him significantly, though the thoughts of you don’t leave. More innocent ones now, of your outing earlier in the evening. Deep beneath, they are tinged with his ever-present guilt at his vampiric nature.

Johnny doesn’t need the sleep, but he drifts off anyway, if only to quiet the conflict sending daggers into his mind.

You’ve known Johnny for a few weeks now, not counting the time you spent silently staring at him in the café, but you find yourself intertwining yourself further into his life. You end up visiting his apartment sooner than you anticipated. You didn’t think of anything as ridiculous as him living in a coffin or sleeping in the rafters like a bat, but you also had a hard time imagining what his place might look like.

You come over on a weekend when you have more time to simply hang out and not worry so much about anything else.

Like usual, he waits in that spot on the side of the street for you to come out. In the daytime, you’re more apprehensive about him being here and someone potentially seeing him and trying to cause trouble for him, but there’s a part of you that likes the rebellious aspect of it. And if he truly doesn’t mind coming near the campus to pick you up, you don’t have much issue with him doing it.

Johnny’s apartment is clean—and a little sparser than you’d expected. Maybe he’s a fan of minimalism. One side of the wall is taken up by a wide bookcase, which features a bunch of different knickknacks, books, and a collection of larger hardcovers that look like photo albums. On the other walls are a few framed pictures of different scenes, and you assume they’re ones he must’ve taken.

“This is a nice place,” you say as he takes your jacket for you and puts it up. “It must cost quite a bit, too…” You sit down on the couch, stroking the soft material of it.

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle...being nearly a century old gives you plenty of time to save money.” He appears charmingly self-satisfied when he’s able to make you laugh. “Do you want anything?”

“Water is fine…thank you.” Johnny nods and goes off to the kitchen.

Despite trying to keep your eyes on the wall photos, your gaze follows him as he leaves. You discreetly watch him move around his kitchen. With his dark clothes, he’s like a splash of black paint against the pale tile and stainless steel.

There are blood packs in Johnny’s fridge. Lots of them. You know because you saw them from your vantage point on the couch when he opened the fridge door. They look like the blood bags you’d see in a hospital, which makes you wonder how he even gets access to those. Another mystery you struggle to wrap your head around.

He comes back to the living room with your water, and you take it gratefully, though you also feel a little awkward. You think maybe the blood bags are something you shouldn’t have seen, although you know he probably would’ve made more effort to hide them or put them away if that were the case.

“You have a good supply of blood, a nice apartment, and a great job. Does every vampire get these kinds of perks?” Admittedly, it sounded better in your head. Your attempt to stave off the awkward feeling—which was really only coming from your end—only makes it more intense. Johnny laughs dryly in response. You can’t tell if he actually finds it amusing or is just trying to humor you, which makes you feel incredibly silly.

“All of it’s government-issued if you promise never to bite any humans.” Johnny gives a wry smile. “But it’s a mistake to think vampires live glamorous lives, filling up on blood and having no cares in the world.”

“N-no, I get it,” you stutter. “Bad joke.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you or be mean. It’s just the way things are.” Your roles are suddenly reversed, and now he seems to feel some sort of sympathy for you, like you’re just an ignorant little human who doesn’t know any better. The last part of that is more your insecurities speaking out than anything else, but you try to ignore that and take him for his word.

Johnny gets up from the couch to go over to the bookcase as you sip your water. After looking through the photo albums intently, he takes one off the shelf and hands it to you. You set your water down and hold the album carefully as you open the front cover. The cover itself has a neat little label that reads Telluride 1976 - 1980, so you can already expect what you’ll find in it. There are numerous photos of trees, bushes, snowy mountain ranges, lakes, brilliantly vibrant flowers, and woodland creatures. You stop at a picture of a deer looking straight ahead, its black eyes wide and curious as it examines the lens.

“I lived in the mountains back then, a little after my mentor had left. I spent some time trying to reconnect with nature...and all that other hippie shit people used to do back in that era.”

You chuckle. “Did you wear the same kinds of clothes, too? Bell bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts and all?”

Johnny laughs and shrugs. “Maybe…but that’s only for me to know.”

You grin and look at the photos again. “Well…did your plan work, at least?”

Johnny gives a wistful smile. “In some ways, I think it did.”

You continue looking through the rest of the album, which you could probably do for hours if you had the time—just sit and trace every possible line, curve, and ray of light. Johnny sits beside you as you do, occasionally explaining some pictures and their backstories.

“Lately, I’ve been wanting something else to take pictures of...someone else, maybe.”

“What, like a subject?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’d be nice...I haven’t taken pictures of another person in a while.”

You nod quietly as you flip through the pages—another possible hint flying right over your head. Then a thought comes to you—one that makes your skin warm. “Have you ever taken pictures of anyone you were...involved with?” You don’t say it directly, but you hope he can get the gist of what you’re asking.

Johnny nods as if he doesn’t want to admit to it, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “A few different people…but I always gave them the pictures after we, you know, stopped seeing each other...so there’s none left here.”

“I see…” For a few moments, your thoughts circle around that concept. What was it like to bare yourself in front of someone else like that, immortalized on film? What might it be like to allow Johnny to see you like that, to take pictures of you in your most vulnerable form? The idea doesn’t make you as downright anxious as you expected it to, though you can’t completely shake the lingering embarrassment about it.

After you finish looking through the entirety of his Telluride adventures, Johnny shows you some recent pictures he’s developed, and you’re giddy to see your own blurry creations among them. Now that you’re holding them physically in your hands, you can agree that they look nice, each with its own little personality.

“I thought about putting them in a new photo album,” he says, “but you can keep them, if you prefer.”

You hold them to your chest. “Yes, I’d like to keep them. Thank you.” You smile. “I’m sure I’ll leave you with plenty other photos to put in your album, anyway.”

—

The sun is close to setting again. You aren’t ready to leave yet, though, and Johnny is content to let you stay longer. He pulls out another album for you to look at, this one dated with 1960 - 1964. Unlike the others, there’s no title to describe what’s in it except for that year range.

“This is a picture of me someone took before I was turned,” Johnny murmurs, sitting back down beside you. He turns the album to you, and in the middle of the first page is a sepia-toned photo of him sitting on a bed—or maybe a couch?—wearing a suit. White, handwritten lettering on the bottom right of the photograph reads August 4, 1960.

“Oh wow...” You touch the photo gently over its protective lining. “You look exactly the same. Of course.”

“It’s the only photo I have left of myself,” he sighs, leaning back on the sofa. “If it weren’t for that...I’d feel almost like I didn’t exist at all.”

“Do you remember this day?” you ask.

“…Vaguely.” His answer doesn’t feel like the whole truth, and the way his eyes dart anxiously as he says it confirms your suspicions. Then he sighs again, heavier this time, and he seems to be exhaling all 60 years of his burden along with it. “I was...going to be married. It was for our wedding shoot.”

You’re surprised for a reason you’re unsure of, never even imagining that Johnny could’ve been married at one point in time. Could’ve had an entire life and a family, if it hadn’t been for...

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You know you never would’ve met him if things hadn’t happened this way, and that knowledge tugs at your heart in a way that makes you feel intensely selfish.

Johnny shakes his head and avoids your eyes. “It was long ago.” He wets his lips and his jaw clenches like maybe he wants to say something else, but he remains silent for a while.

You continue exploring the photo album in silence. With its thin size, there aren’t as many pictures in it as the others—much less, in fact, but each one is still enough to keep your interest. Your mind keeps drifting back to the one of Johnny.

You hand the album back to him when you’re done. He takes it from you, but in a gesture you don’t foresee, he allows your hands to touch for the first time. You make a tiny flinch at the unexpected coolness—not ice-cold, but enough to be noticeable—but you don’t draw away from him. You let his fingers slide across yours as the photo album leaves your hands, and it sends electricity racing up and down your spine.

“S-sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for flinching or for making contact at all, though there is no reason to because he initiated it.

“Doesn’t it ever disturb you at all that I’m not human?” Johnny asks softly, still holding the album.

“What?”

“You’ve taken all this so easily...much more easily than many others. You aren’t even disgusted at my cold hands.” A ghost of a grin comes over his face.

“If I were disgusted, I wouldn’t even be here,” you say, trying to lighten the tension. It’s not the kind of tension that arises from anger, offense, or upset, but something else that you are lost on comprehending in this moment. “Some of it’s unfamiliar, obviously, but I’m not disgusted.”

He glances down at the album in his hands, as if contemplating something. Maybe thinking about the only living photo of himself beneath the cover. Or maybe he’s thinking back to how he was turned in the first place and subsequently lost the life he was about to have. He still hasn’t told you anything about how he became a vampire, and though you’d like to know, it’s obviously a sore spot for him.

Eventually, he nods, willing himself to smile at you. “I’m glad.”

—

Night has fallen by the time you’re done exploring the decades of his life, though there is still much you haven’t seen and don’t yet know. You let him drive you back to the school as you stare out at the passing cars, wondering how many more of these people sitting in their vehicles are nonhuman and you’d never know it.

You hesitate after he pulls up across from the main gate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Uh, nothing really, it’s just—I still don’t have your number or anything.” And I want to talk to you more often. I want to hear your voice more often. You don’t want to say anything overly dramatic or cheesy, so you just keep those last thoughts to yourself.

Thinking it had been something serious, he smirks at your concern. “Oh, I see. I’ll give it to you now, then.”

Once your numbers are safely in each other’s phones, you finally bid each other goodnight.

Though you try to steer your thoughts towards other things, you keep veering back to Johnny. His apartment. His fridge full of blood bags. His photo albums full of years of history. Even when you get into bed that night, you can’t keep him off your mind.

You wake up gasping and sweating when you dream of him with his fangs in your neck, your own blood running down your neck and chest. You glance over at your roommate to make sure you haven’t woken her and rest your head on your knees, trying to catch your breath and settle your racing heart. Your skin still prickles with how you could practically feel his heated breaths on your neck, ice-cold hands gripping your shoulders.

The worst part of it is that you can’t quite say you completely disliked it.

“It doesn’t make much sense to have a Halloween party and dress up as the very beings that you hate, but whatever…” you mumble, looking through a rack of costumes with a certain impassivity. You’re not very enthusiastic about going to this Halloween party, but your friend refuses to go alone. You haven’t been spending as much time with her anymore—partly because of Johnny and partly because you feel even more out of place around her than normal—and with all her begging and pleading, she refuses to let you opt out of this one.

“It’s about having fun, no one really cares Y/N. They’re freaks, aren’t they? That’s why people dress up as them, they’re practically meant for this.”

You become even more apprehensive about the party after hearing that, if that’s even possible. You smooth your hand over the fabric of a witch’s robe and sigh again, shaking your head. It doesn’t feel quite right to keep spending time in her presence—or anyone else who goes to your school—but you feel trapped on all sides, left without much of a choice. You would never hear the end of it if you tried to switch universities…or even drop out.

Your mind strays back to Johnny as always, with his melancholy aura and weird jokes and pretty pictures and monochrome clothes. The smell of his cologne, the lingering scent of roasted coffee beans, and his toothy smile, when he does show it to you. Something in you makes you want to drop everything you’re doing right now and go to him. It might even be nice to settle in his arms, feel them strong and solid around you—though he’d probably need just as much comforting as you.

“Dress up as this!” Your friend breaks the reverie as she prances over to you with a pair of fake fangs, the tips of them painted in acrylic blood. She holds them up to your mouth, and you struggle to manage a smile, if only to sate her enthusiasm. “It actually reminds me of…that vampire at the café. Say, have you seen him since then?”

You shake your head, moving away to sift through another rack of outfits as you try to maintain a detached expression. “Nope, not a glimpse. Haven’t even thought about him.”

When your friend doesn’t suspect anything, you let your expression drop just a tad, breathing out quietly.

The night of the party, the full moon is heavy and bold against the black blanket of the sky, which feels horribly cliché. You wonder if there are any werewolves out tonight, and what they might be doing right now.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight,” your friend insists as you both walk up the front steps of the host’s house. It’s someone you only vaguely know, a friend of a friend of a friend, but clearly a person who has an abundance of money judging by this expansive home. You don’t know why she feels the need to convince you, but maybe it’s because you haven’t seemed very enthusiastic so far. You only give a thumbs up to her words, which feels like an unconvincing gesture. Luckily for you, it works.

After a few hours, the party is still going strong but your head is starting to hurt from the music, and you’re growing weary of all the men crowding in too close, looking at you in your angel costume like you’re something to be devoured. You’ve rolled your eyes at way too many of them and their haphazardly put-together costumes, dressed up as vampires with terrible fake fangs or werewolves with manes of matted up fur.

Your friend keeps flitting around the party, talking to whoever she recognizes from classes or campus organizations, and you’ve given up on trying to follow her around any longer. Every time you turn around, she’s somewhere else. Noticing that you’re currently solo, a guy from one of your history classes comes up to you and begins what he thinks is an interesting conversation on how angels actually look more like Eldritch abominations than the cherubic humans depicted in paintings—so your costume is “technically inaccurate” —and your eyes glaze over as you pretend to listen to him.

You eventually manage to get away from him and get to an undisturbed corner, wedged next to two girls drinking cider and critically rating all the guys’ costumes. You pull your phone out and think about calling for a ride back to campus, but your thumb hovers over the message icon. You press it without thinking too much about it, and Johnny’s name appears as one of your most recent conversations. Though you feel somewhat nervous, you will yourself to open the box and begin typing.

To: Hi Johnny. I hope I’m not bothering you, but can I come over? 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿 I’m over this party

You put your phone back in your purse, trying not to get your hopes up for a quick response. You know there’s a good chance he’d still be awake at this time of night since he doesn’t need to sleep, but he has his own life and is probably off doing...vampire-y things. Whatever those things could be.

However, your hopes are met when your phone pings only a couple minutes later.

From: Of course. You’re not scared about spending your Halloween with a vampire? 😏

You smile at that.

To: I think I’ll be fine…as long as you don’t bite me.

From: 🦷🩸

—

You get to Johnny’s studio apartment not too long after, and you hang around outside his door for a few moments before knocking, suddenly feeling bashful about your costume. Maybe you should’ve changed before coming over here; what if he thinks it’s childish? Or maybe too revealing? Does he even care about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t matter now, though. You’re here, and there’s no way you’re turning back around.

He answers a few seconds after you knock, wearing a sweater and black pants. You notice his sweater is a cream color and not the usual black. He looks a little surprised to see your costume, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Wow, you look pretty. Nice of you to visit me after falling straight from Heaven.” You cringe at his cheesy line, though you also cannot deny that you secretly enjoy every bit of it.

“Thanks, Johnny...” you say timidly, stepping into his home as he lets you in. “Nice work with changing up the color scheme.”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing you’re talking about his clothes. “Oh yeah, that...um, haha. Thanks.”

Unbeknownst to you, the back of his mind is buzzing with a form of excitement he hasn’t felt in a while. Not the clawing, frantic spikes of bloodlust, but a more physical kind of desire. It’s pleasurable, but he also feels guilty about pining over how sweet and innocent you look in your all-white outfit, stockings hugging your legs perfectly and your dress just short enough to tempt the imagination. Really, you’ve painted a picture of perfect purity, and the only thing he can think about is ruining you. Putting his hands on you and peeling your dress off to reveal the soft skin underneath.

He casts those thoughts aside as you sit prettily on his couch, legs crossed at the ankles—though it’s hard to do so. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? There isn’t a whole lot of food here, but I can order something…”

“Do you ever make your own coffee?” The question seems a bit random at first, and you try to explain. “You know, since you always get it from the café.”

Johnny smiles. “Do you want coffee? I can make it.”

You nod. “That would be nice…whatever you have.”

“I pretty much have your usual order memorized by now, so I should be good on making it.” Johnny walks to the kitchen. “You can look through the albums while you’re in there. The ones you haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh, thanks.” You feel a little nervous to be looking through the shelf of his treasured photo albums by yourself, but you’re also glad he trusts you enough to let you do it. It makes you feel important. Maybe even important to him, as silly as that might sound.

It isn’t long before the scent of coffee wafts out into the living room. Johnny returns soon with two cups of it, and just as he promised, yours is made just the way you like it.

“Thank you.” You set the album back on the shelf and take the cup from Johnny. For a while, both of you talk of nothing important—just filling the space with the details of your days.

“So how was the party?” Johnny finally asks, and he raises his eyebrows as he scans your outfit again. You grin halfheartedly.

“It was…alright. Kinda weird. I think it’d be more fun if I went to a regular university, but you know…”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for bailing out.”

“Yeah…I’ve been to college parties before, but the Halloween theme was a bit…”

“Strange for an institution that bans all supernatural beings?” Johnny finishes your sentence. He doesn’t look offended or irritated by it—only slightly amused.

You shrug, biting your lip. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, look on the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten to see you in your natural form otherwise.”

This one almost goes over your head, too, but you catch it just in time. Johnny’s compliments make you feel warm all over, like you’re sitting under the sun. You grin and look down into your cup of coffee, unused to receiving such bold praise and unsure how to respond to it. Something pops into your mind, though, and you think it might be a good idea to run with it.

“You could...take a picture of me, you know. If you want to...since I’m all dressed up now anyway.” You meet his eyes only for a second and then look away, twisting the mug in your hands.

Johnny sits up a little straighter at your words, trying to catch your eyes, though you don’t hold his gaze for long. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. Go ahead! Before I change my mind.” You laugh nervously and carefully set your half-empty mug on the table.

Johnny’s camera is never too far away from him, so he grabs it and plays with the settings for a bit before looking back to you, a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna start, okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft. This, yet again, reminds you of him and the aster bush. He acts as if you might run away at the first shutter click, which makes you feel babied, but you don’t totally hate it.

The first few photos are a little awkward—at least to you. You aren’t sure how to pose, or if you should try to look more casual, though Johnny assures you you’re doing well. He gives you directives throughout, telling you to look in his direction or angle your face a certain way, and you follow his instructions to the best of your ability.

At one point, one of your dress straps slips down. When you go to fix it, Johnny says, “Wait. Could you keep it like that?”

You look at him, your body heating from the suggestion.

“Is that okay with you?”

“…Yes.” Your throat is dry, and your body reacts in a way you don’t expect—little nervous thrills in your hands and feet, though you try to internally explain it away as the coffee’s effects. Johnny takes a few more photos like this, and then he steps closer to gently touch your chin, guiding your face to the angle he’s looking for.

“So good for me.” It slips past his lips in a reverential murmur before he can really consider what he’s saying, and you both freeze. Your heart rate increases, and you wonder if he can hear how hard the red organ is beating in your chest. Probably.

You want to hear him say it again.

Johnny laughs awkwardly, his hand coming back to his side almost a little too quickly to be natural. “Um, I’m really sorry. That was a bit...”

“It…it’s fine.” You avoid his eyes. Johnny takes a few more photos, but the set of his mouth is a little tight, as if he’s stressed about something. Or regretting what he let slip, maybe. You want to tell him you really don’t feel bad about it, but you aren’t sure how to do that without making things more awkward…or revealing your true desires.

When Johnny has taken enough pictures of you to be satisfied with, he sits next to you on the couch, setting his camera on the coffee table and looking suddenly timid.

“I can’t wait to see them,” you say, attempting to break the tension that never really cleared the room after his earlier comment. He blinks for a moment like he doesn’t know what you mean, and then realizes—obviously, he’ll be developing the photos.

“They’ll come out nice, I’m sure. I think you’ll photograph well.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and now it’s your turn to be unsure of how to resurrect the conversation.

“You’re beautiful.” It’s an abrupt comment. It makes your stomach twist in a pleasant, fluttery way, and you become hyperaware of his form sitting next to yours.

“Haven’t heard that one much, but thanks.”

Johnny turns to you. “Anyone who’d think otherwise is a fool.”

There’s a pause after this where you both simply study each other, watching for hidden reactions that can’t be read on the surface. The way he says it is…decisive, assured. But it also manages to be tender, as if he needs you to know what he thinks of you. Needs you to see yourself the way he does—the same way you do for him. You don’t know where the confidence comes from, but maybe his tone and his words and his endlessly dark eyes have pulled it out of you. “I want to kiss you.”

Johnny’s lips part. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Johnny moves closer to you and cups the back of your neck. Something awakens in his eyes in the seconds before he presses his mouth to yours. Though he wants to drink eagerly from your lips, his kiss is languid to avoid overwhelming you, and there is an audible smack of your lips whenever he pulls away and presses back in.

His mouth tastes like the coffee you just drank, but underneath that you swear you can taste a hint of the deep iron of blood, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You think about what his fangs would feel like scraping against your bottom lip, if he’d ever show them to you, and you moan quietly.

“Do you want this? With me?” Johnny confirms once more, pulling his gaze away from your lips and up to your eyes. His own eyes are yearning, but there is also an element of something like fear roiling in them. As if you’d turn him away, even though you’ve already shown your desire for him.

“Yes. Just you. No one else.”

Johnny’s body gravitates towards yours, and you think he’s going to push you down onto the sofa, but he scoops your legs up and carries you to his bedroom instead. Even his hands on your waist and legs makes you burn inside.

This is the first time you've seen his bedroom. The sheets are cloud-soft when he sets you down on them, and his window lets moonlight shine through the open blinds and scatter in thick beams across the floor. The only other light source is the bedside lamp, which emits a comfortable yellowish glow.

Johnny joins you on the bed and lets you climb into his lap—encourages you to do so. His cool hands pulling at your thighs as you settle them on either side of his waist makes tingles go through your body. You don’t hesitate to bring your lips back together, kissing each other deeply as one of his hands cradles the back of your head and the other settles on the small of your back.

You are certain vampires don’t have any powers of enchantment—that’s for magic wielders. And yet, you feel like you’ve been put in a trance by his kisses alone, and you wonder how you could’ve lived this long without knowing how his lips feel—how they fit perfectly against your own. As if everything up to now has purposely led you together.

You shift in Johnny’s embrace, and the movement causes his thigh to slide between your legs. Your heat is pressed against his thigh directly now, your silken panties catching against the denim of his pants. You murmur against his lips, not really saying anything of substance but wanting to vocalize your desire to him. Johnny’s hand tightens slightly on your back, and he experimentally lifts his leg higher and slides his thigh across you. That draws a gasp from you.

Noticing your positive response, Johnny continues rocking his thigh up against your pussy and kissing you until you’re breathless and your nipples are straining against the fabric of your dress. You pull away from him for a moment to try to ground yourself, feeling like your nerves are already being singed with fiery pleasure. Johnny’s face is noticeably more flushed than before, but he also looks much more composed than you feel at the moment.

“It takes longer to get hard,” he explains, as if reading the lingering question in your own expression. “Since...you know. Slow blood.” You rock your hips over his thigh more enthusiastically, motivated to get him hard underneath you, and you listen to his choppy breaths as you move. Your movements aren’t the smoothest, but he helps you guide your hips in a way that feels good for you both. You’ve never been with anyone before, so it doesn’t much matter to you how long or quick it takes for him to get there as long as he does.

Feeling the bulge grow underneath you excites you. Johnny groans against your lips as you kiss him and rub yourself over his member. The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, as if it’s something he’s been containing for a long time. Your hand goes to his waist and tugs at his belt loops, then drifts closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and metal apart. Johnny pauses when you get off his lap and slide further down, grips your arms like he doesn’t want you to go. “Are…you sure? You don’t have to…if it’s too much—”

“I want to, Johnny.”

With your affirmative, he lets you kneel between his legs, pull his zipper apart, and trace your curious fingers over the bulge beneath the fabric of his underwear. Johnny loses his breath when you drag his underwear down, sliding it over the heated skin of his dick. His length is thick and long—even with him not being fully hard yet—and the tip glistens wet with precum. You weren’t sure what to expect, but this is much bigger than you think you might be able to handle. It makes your face warm and your stomach do another series of flips. Still, you want it and you want him, so you aren’t going to stop now.

You lean closer to press your lips against his shaft, leaving a few soft kisses behind. Johnny’s mouth parts when your mouth touches him.

Johnny gently holds the back of your head as you leave small licks over his shaft, tasting the salty skin on your tongue. He lets out a shaky breath as he watches you, his other hand brushing the side of your face.

“Just like that…” he murmurs, his voice heavy with lust as you circle your tongue around the thick, darkened tip, catching drops of his precum. He never takes his eyes off you, and this makes you feel a little exposed, but you continue with your actions. When you suck Johnny’s tip past your lips, his thighs tense under you, the thick muscle reacting beautifully to your actions on his body.

More precum drips from him, and you find the taste strangely pleasing. It makes you want more of him, of whatever he has to offer you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, though it doesn’t fit entirely around, and begin stroking him in a way you hope feels good.

Johnny’s hand slips over yours to guide your movements and show you how much pressure to apply, what pace to stroke him at. “Like this, baby…yes, that’s so good…” He showers you with praise as you get the hang of it, and he eventually lets your hand go so you can do it on your own, his own hand drifting back to the bed to grip the comforter.

It’s hard to quantify just how much seeing you like this turns him on, you kneeling between his legs with his cock between your lips while wearing your pretty, angelic outfit. His previous guilt about “corrupting” you descends to the very back of his mind as he savors every moment of your hands on his cock and your tongue circling his slit.

“I’m close,” he whispers. You quicken your movements on him, hollowing your cheeks tighter around his dick, and the moan he gives shoots straight between your legs.

Johnny carefully pulls your head back so you won’t choke before he comes, streams of his seed shooting into your mouth and running down his cock. Your hand still squeezes around him as he comes, and he slowly thrusts into the tight circle of your fist as you milk every drop from him. By the time he’s spent, your mouth and hand and part of the sheets are completely sticky with his release. You imagine it must have been a long time since he’s last had an orgasm.

The vampire watches intently as you swallow his cum, which causes his softening dick to throb in your hand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, uncaring of the taste of himself in your mouth. His hair tickles your face as he kisses you feverishly, his nose bumping yours and his tongue prodding past your lips.

“Come here, angel.” Johnny pulls your body up onto the bed before you can get yourself up there first. The pet name makes warmth flood through your body, like drinking a hot chocolate at the café, except a thousand times more satisfying. Johnny’s hands are once again caressing your thighs, though this time they slide up underneath your dress and squeeze your hips. “Can I take these pretty panties off you?”

“Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the sides of them and pulls them down your legs and past your ankles. One of his hands goes underneath your dress to feel you soft and wet against his fingers, and you both moan at the same time. He slides his digits through your lips and over your clit, and him leaning forward to bring his mouth to your throat is enough to have you nearly overwhelmed. His fingers tease your entrance but don’t push inside until you nearly have to beg him.

“Please, Johnny…” You push your hips up to get his attention.

“Do you want my fingers?” he asks softly.

“Y-yes…” At your words, he eases the middle one into you, slowly enough to avoid discomfort. It feels strange to have someone else’s fingers inside you. His finger reaches further than yours can, touching you more deeply than you’ve felt before; it makes you gasp a bit too sharply.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, freezing and thinking he might’ve done something wrong.

“N-no, I’m fine. Keep going.”

Johnny’s mouth edges closer to the cleavage of your dress as he starts thrusting his finger into you, warming you up enough to take a second digit. Shakily, you bring your hands up to slide the straps down and make it easier for him, and his breath hitches when you pull the top of your dress down.

His mouth envelopes one of your nipples as he slides the second finger into you. His fingers encounter a part of you that makes you moan unexpectedly and grab onto him, a little surprised at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he purrs, his lips moving against the curve of your breast as he speaks. “And so responsive.”

As Johnny’s mouth and fingers work you closer to an orgasm, you marvel at how handsome he looks and how good he feels. He opens his eyes to see you staring at him, your pupils wide and mouth desperate, and he separates himself from your chest to kiss you deeply once again.

When you come around his fingers, Johnny whispers more compliments to you about how good you are and how he wants to watch you come undone because of him all the time. When he thinks you might be on the brink of overstimulation, he takes his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth to taste you.

“I’ll take this off now. Is that okay?” He whispers this into your ear with his hands on either side of your hips, caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I-it’s okay.”

Johnny slips your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your white sheer stockings. The sight of you sitting there on his bed, breathing heavily from your climax in your pretty thigh-highs, has his cock throbbing and rising to life once again.

“Lay back on the bed.” You do, and he settles himself between your legs like you did for him earlier. When you glance at him, his eyes are heavy and piercing. In this moment, you are acutely reminded of the fact that he is not a human, with how he looks like a beast of prey about to devour a meal. You are too nervous to look back at him for long, so you stare at the ceiling with your legs shaking from anticipation.

Johnny’s mouth on you is almost jarring in how wet it is, and you arch up into him in surprise and a rush of pleasure. He gently presses your legs back onto the bed and continues licking into you, parting your lower lips with his tongue and making your thighs tremble under his grasp.

If you had to describe it in words, you probably wouldn’t be able to. He kisses your pussy the same way he kisses you on the mouth, passionately and with more than enough tongue to satisfy. Johnny slips his fingers into you again as he curls his lips around your clit, and you moan unabashedly.

You’re quickly spiraling towards another orgasm, maybe quicker than you expected; but it makes sense with you still being so raw from the climax you just had. You gain enough courage to give another glance down at Johnny, and you see the way his other arm moves back and forth from beneath the bed, stroking himself while he eats you out. Something about that pushes you over the edge, and you cry out as you come on his tongue.

As Johnny gives you time to calm down again, he stands and finally pulls his clothes off, baring his body to you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a man so beautiful.

He goes to get a condom, and your words stumble from your lips before you can psych yourself out of saying them. “I-I’m on birth control.” Johnny looks back at you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite read. He comes closer to you, holding himself above you on the bed so his face is hovering just above yours.

“You want to feel me raw?” he whispers.

You nod under his burning stare, feeling like you’re on a high you won’t be able to get off of. “I need you, Johnny.”

Johnny climbs fully onto the bed then and positions himself between your legs. His cock is thick and heavy between his thighs as it bumps against your inner thigh and leaves a smear of precum behind. After putting some lube in his hand, he slicks himself with the sticky substance, preparing himself to fuck you open. Something deep in your abdomen shudders, and your walls clench around nothing as you watch him stroke his shaft, the squelching, wet sound of his hand on his dick loud in the quiet room.

When he’s done, he grabs your thighs and pulls you a little closer to him. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The slick tip prodding at your hole makes you want more, though you are a bit afraid of how this is going to feel. When it finally pushes inside of you, you gasp. Johnny watches your face for signs of pain as he slides forward further.

With two previous orgasms and the lube to help, his cock stretches you open with some discomfort, but not the kind of sharp pain you expected. Your nails leave little half-moon shapes on Johnny’s biceps as you squeeze his arms and try to keep your lower half relaxed, wanting to take all of him in—or as much as you can manage, anyway. You try to keep your breathing even as he pushes into you slowly.

Your eyebrows crease and your mouth tightens when he slides deeper still, and he pauses. “Johnny…” You worry your lip with your teeth, feeling like you’ve been stuffed to the brim—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you beg, maintaining your grip on his arms. “Just…try moving.”

Johnny pulls out and slowly thrusts back in again, angling his dick to find that sensitive spot within you. Your mouth falls open silently when he does; this feels much, much different from his fingers. This is better.

Johnny repeats the movement, being mindful not to push himself too deep—only enough for you to handle. Beneath him, your body begins unwinding at the pleasure he’s delivering to you, and your eyes flutter closed as the ecstasy takes over your mind. One of his hands goes to tease your clit as he settles into a good rhythm, and you cry out at the extra dose of pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well,” Johnny mumbles as he sits back and watches himself slide into you, both of your lower halves slick from lube and your own wetness. “So warm and wet, angel…” You can tell he’s using a lot of his energy to keep his pace controlled and gentle enough for you to actually enjoy. The idea of being fucked harder makes you ache deep inside, but you figure it’s best to save that for when you’re more used to this. You already know it’ll be difficult to walk in the morning after this.

Johnny leans forward to kiss your lips, changing the angle again and circling his pelvis into you, and a choked gasp escapes your mouth at the slow wind of his hips.

Johnny lavishes your neck and throat with kisses, and though he is a vampire, you aren’t worried about him biting you. His fangs have not made an appearance since all this started, and you doubt if he would ever bring them out in front of you. You don’t know if you should ask about it, either, wondering if it’s too soon after only a month and a half of knowing each other—but maybe you could say the same about him being inside of you right now.

“Johnny…” you whisper into the air, your fingers scrabbling against his sweaty skin. The mounting tension in your abdomen is close to snapping, and you are almost frightened by how intense it already feels. He moves his face from your neck to be face-to-face with you again and plants a heavy, dizzying kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve got you, Y/N.”

Falling apart in Johnny’s arms feels like a form of Heaven that’s meant to be kept hidden, because you might become addicted to it otherwise. Your inner muscles squeeze around his dick as you come. His name flows from your lips in a high song. You can’t imagine any physical sensation that could be better than this, his hips rocking into you as you tighten and cream around him, and you know innately that Johnny has ruined all chances of you ever feeling this fulfilled with anyone but him.

The constant pulse of your walls against his dick is too much to withstand for long, and Johnny’s muscles pull taut with pleasure when he comes, groaning into your neck and spilling overflowing streams of thick cum into you. His hips falter in their former rhythm, and he resists the urge to push himself as deep as he can into you.

When he pulls out, you whine from the discomfort of it, but also because you wish he could stay in you forever. You know you’ll be sore when you wake up—and you can already feel the very beginnings of exhaustion and ache settling in your body—but you’d do it a hundred times over without changing a thing.

—

Johnny curls himself around you after he’s cleaned the both of you up, as if he means to shield you from the world. You’re quiet for a while as you listen to his slow-beating heart and feel his cool skin against yours.

You look up at his face, which is hard to see distinctly in the dark of the room. With the lamp turned out, the only source of light comes from the moon now, but you can decipher enough to make out the shape of his lips and his glittering eyes. You know he can see much better than you in this light, and he takes his time tracing his fingers across your face and cheek, studying your features.

“Would you ever…make me a vampire?”

His body tenses at your question. “Don’t say anything ridiculous. You still have a whole life ahead of you to live. What I have here...this is no existence.” He’s not mad, at least not at you, but his voice hardens at the very idea of it.

“But what if I wanted to live it with you?”

Johnny takes a breath, but he doesn’t say anything to that. He just continues stroking your face and looks at you for a long time, like he’s searching for something. You don’t know if you truly expected an answer from him, or how you would feel if he did give one.

Eventually, your eyes begin to fall low, and sleep overcomes you. The last thing you register is Johnny’s chilly hand touching your cheek. When he notices you’ve drifted off, he pulls the covers tighter around you both. Then he presses you to his chest as he tunes out the sound of cars rumbling on the streets below in exchange for the beating of your heart—still alive, so red with blood.

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sanzoumon · 3 years

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70 RICKORTY PROMPTS pt 3!

Here we go again! Same things apply, warnings at the start of the prompts. Everything is bottom!Morty unless otherwise stated. Also some prompts are gen.

70, guys. 70! And here I thought I was out of ideas. Anyway you can tell the moments when I was super horny while coming up with ideas. Some of these prompts get detailed and long but as always feel free to play around with the ideas.

Also with some of these I had no idea where I was going with them so pfft.

MPreg. Post-Promortyus. Those parasites reflected their own feelings. Morty asks Rick about it, what they did and said. Long story short, after some pressing, Rick admits everything that parasite said was true, he loves Morty and wants to have a baby with him. Morty finds the idea appealing, to be honest. He thinks about being pregnant with Rick’s baby and loves it.

Angst. As they get older Rick starts becoming forgetful and develops dementia. Morty is with him through it all and Rick can feel his own brilliant mind fading away, it scares him. They still have sex but as time goes on Rick gets less and less lucid. Eventually Rick dies in his sleep one night.

Non-con. Thriller. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist and killer loose on the Citadel. He targets Morty’s. The Morty’s disappear for 3 days and turn up dead on the forth. The police know the culprit is a Rick, given the DNA left behind, but DNA doesn’t vary much between dimensions so it doesn’t help much. They call in a specialist, a Rick who understands people and specializes in Profiling. The culprit redressed the bodies, showing them reverence, he loves these Morty’s. Things become complicated when Profiler Rick’s Morty gets abducted. ((Criminal Minds inspired))

Hebephilia. This Rick is a straight up Hebephile and has tried to reject that part of him his whole life. Morty happens to be right in his strike zone. He even left his own Beth when she was 13, fearing he might go after her. He thought these urges would mellow out in his old age but being around Morty is a challenge. And now Morty is confessing he’s in love with Rick and that he’s attracted to older people. After resisting his whole life Rick finally gives in and feels like a piece of shit for it.

Prison. Dub-con. Rick and Morty get arrested and everyone wants Morty’s ass to make him his bitch. Rick isn’t about to let that happen, fighting off anyone who tries to lay a hand on Morty. But every time Rick leaves him alone someone tries something. So Rick does the only thing he can, after beating Morty’s assailant to a pulp, he takes Morty in front of other prisoners to show who he belongs to. Morty is freaked out but damn Rick is giving him pleasure he never knew existed. Everyone backs off Morty but he wants Rick to fuck him again and again.

Omegaverse. Everyone knew that Alpha’s were supposed to care for their Omega in exchange for the Omega’s submission. Rick doesn’t do the whole caring thing but due to the proximity they have Morty recognizes Rick as his Alpha and he wants to be cared for. Eventually Morty breaks down. This triggers Rick’s Alpha nature and he gives Morty all the affection he’s been craving. Rick fucks him slowly, gently, in a comforting way, to help calm him. Tells him how good he is, etc. Finally he knots Morty and Morty feels like he’s whole again.

Angst. Rick and Morty are goofing around, just having a good time. They end up with their faces close together and Rick kisses Morty. Morty doesn’t react well. Will he come around?

Morty is desperate to be with Rick. He just wants Rick to stay with him and he’ll let Rick do anything to him. Abuse him. Fuck him. Anything.

Anything based on the song “Pretty When You Cry” by VAST.

Morty has a kink for seeing Rick cry.

Morty likes the feel of Rick’s wrinkly and saggy skin. Sometimes he just messes with it because it feels nice.

Age Problems. For all his sexual prowess, Rick is still an old man and sometimes it’s hard for him to get it up. And it’s really humiliating and frustrating because he is horny and his dick just isn’t reacting. Morty doesn’t mind that much, it happens. Besides, Rick is still damn good with his hands.

Electro Play. Rick hooks up Morty to all sorts of sex toys. They all send electric shocks to his dick and asshole. Rick also uses a wand to shock Morty on his thighs. He also won’t let Morty cum. Eventually he fucks Morty while still shocking his dick.

Rick sends Morty to school with a vibrator in his ass. Throughout the day he turns the device on to make Morty squirm. By the time lunch period comes, Morty can’t stand it anymore. He finds Rick waiting in a bathroom stall, dick hard and waiting for Morty, looking smug. Morty practically jumps on Rick’s lap and Rick takes the vibrator out. Morty rides him and moans so loud it’s a wonder the whole school doesn’t hear.

Public Sex. They have a very specific kink for fucking in portable toilets, like you see in construction sites or during fairs. It’s so unsanitary and smells disgusting and anyone could hear them but that’s what makes it hot.

Feminization Kink. Morty has a kink for beating treated like a woman. Not crossdressing tho. He likes it when Rick calls him a bitch, his wife, princess, his ‘pretty little girl’, calling his asshole a pussy or other such things, calling his dick a clit, talking about knocking him up. Things like that. Morty likes holding his legs open, begging Rick to fuck his pussy.

Morty is a straight up slutty little cock whore for Rick’s cock. Loves riding it. Loves being plowed by it. If Morty has it his way he’d just live life with Rick’s cock in his ass.

Exhibitionism. Degradation. Rick takes Morty to a special club where public sex happens on a stage. Surrounded by a bunch of Rick’s they all hoot and holler, calling him a slut, a whore, offering his Rick money so they can fuck him, etc. Morty never cums so hard in his life.

On the Citadel. A Rick books a private lapdance with a Morty at the Creepy Morty. Like most strip clubs there’s a “look, don’t touch” rule. But for a bit of extra cash many of them will let you do more than just look. And Rick is so desperate for the sexy little Morty gyrating on his lap.

Mind Break. Rick fucks Morty hard and rough for so long that Morty can’t live without being fucked by Rick anymore. He just wants Rick to take care of him, feed him, bathe him, then fuck him like a cheap whore. Being a living sex doll for Rick is the best thing that ever happened to him.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Sometimes Rick’s enemies put their hands on Morty. Morty almost pities them. Almost. Rick practically runs the underworld in Miami and everyone knows Morty belongs to him. Sometimes Rick needs to remind everyone that he’s an amoral old bastard who fucks his grandson so good that the kid begs for it.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Branding. Morty isn’t blind, he knows his grandfather is a criminal and knows people will target him to get to Rick. Morty also notices that Rick brands the shit that belongs to him and that no one touches it. Morty asks Rick to brand him so he’ll be safe, that people will know they’ll have to cross Rick Sanchez if they touch him. After getting the brand his ass hurts so much but he’s so turned on by the knowledge that Rick owns him now. He begs Rick to fuck him. And who is Rick to deny his cute grandson?

Set during Close Rickounters. They’re filthy, tired, and stranded. Rick is aggravated with Zeep, who keeps riling Rick up. Being in close proximity to each other for months makes it awkward sometimes. Like when Morty gets turned on seeing Rick in just his tank top, violently attempting to craft something like a mad man. He looks absolutely feral and Morty can’t help but moan at the thought of Rick fucking him like that. Rick notices, of course, and he’s in such a frenzied state that he doesn’t think twice about using Morty as an outlet for his frustration. He fucks him raw, with little prep, scratches, bites, pulls his hair, spanks him, slaps his face, taunts him, even spits on him, utterly degrading Morty and treating him like a sex toy. And Rick looks, smells, and feels so gross and dirty that it drives Morty insane. He can’t believe it’s happening, that Rick didn’t even care to ask Morty if he wanted this or not (Morty does want it tho). To just be taken and used as a stress outlet? It’s the best.

ABO Kink. They’re not from an ABO dimension but they both sure as hell find it hot. Basically they’re normal but know of ABO dimensions so Rick roleplays as an Alpha and Morty an Omega.

Rick x Morticia. Breast Play. Morti has surprisingly large breasts under her baggy t-shirt. Something happens to their clothes on an adventure and Rick gets an eye full of what Morti’s been hiding. She’s ashamed and embarrassed by them. Rick doesn’t see why, she’s beautiful. Morti stares at him and he realizes he said that out loud. Morti moves her arms from her chest and, very shyly, shows Rick everything. Rick realizes this is an invitation to touch and he takes it. He has her moaning like a whore in seconds. The next morning Morti comes down stairs wearing a v-neck top, showing off a little cleavage. The family is surprised because Morti was always so ashamed before. Morti just says she got a little confidence recently and gives Rick a knowing look. Rick decides he’s definitely going to fuck her boobs later today.

Rick x Morticia. Pregnancy Kink. Rick wants to get his 14 year old granddaughter pregnant. Wants to see her waddle around, have her breasts swell up, and wants to see her walk around knowing that’s his child in her belly. He wants to keep her knocked up all the time, keep her locked up at home, barefoot and pregnant, taking care of all their kids. Putting in another baby as soon as the current one pops out. He wants to make her his little breeding slave. He wouldn’t, of course, one kid is already too much for them but it’s still hot to think about.

Cheating. Cuckolding. Morty goes out of his way to fuck other guys just to make Rick jealous. Rick comes home to find some guy plowing him and Rick goes ballistic. He never hurts the other guys, just violently tosses them out. Then he holds Morty down and fucks him to remind him that he belongs to Rick. And that’s what Morty is really after. He wants Rick to be possessive, to fear losing him. NOTE: This isn’t a cuckolding kink, Rick isn’t into being cucked.

Rick x Morty + Summer. Morty wants Summer to watch Rick fuck him and to make humiliating / degrading comments about him during it. She’s getting paid for it but she’d be lying if she said her panties didn’t get soaked during it. Seeing her baby brother get plowed by a huge cock belonging to their grandfather was pretty hot, especially when Morty started moaning like a slut. She starts grinding into the chair she’s sitting on and cums from it. Morty doesn’t notice but Rick does, even tho he didn’t say anything.

Gun Play. It’s an Earth gun, pretty archaic by Rick’s standards. But Morty wants him to fuck him at gun point with a loaded standard 9mm. Even gives the gun a blowjob. Morty’s such a little freak.

Casual Possessiveness. When they go out, adventure or not, Rick puts his hand on the back of Morty’s neck. A hand on his waist. Hand on his shoulder, pressed against Rick’s side. Morty loves the feeling of protection and Rick loves protecting his little Morty.

Slow dancing. Rick and Morty are at a party, dancing and having a good time, then the music slows down and people couple up. Morty laughs it off and turns to leave, but Rick offers his hand to him instead - an offer to keep dancing. Rick ends up being a pretty good dancer and Morty finds himself mesmerized by Rick in this moment.

Hurt/Comfort. Spooning. Rick has a nightmare and wanders into Morty’s room. He lays down next to him, with his back facing Morty. Morty notices and hears faint crying coming from Rick. Morty pulls Rick into a hug, snuggling against his back. They stay like that for a little while until Rick calms down. Rick gets up to leave but Morty asks him to stay. This time Rick lays down facing Morty and they just sorta hold each other.

In Mortyberg. Most of the Morty’s there are Rickless but a few still have them. As C-137 Rick and Morty watch the few Rick’s left find their Morty’s, clinging desperatly to them, happy to be reunited - they see one pair kiss passionately. The couple gets odd stares. The Rick picks up his Morty and the kiss even deeper. C-137 Rick and Morty feel awkward about watching it and notice a few other Rick’s and Morty’s are giving them sneers. But Morty thinks they seem happy together, he’s a little jealous. He grabs Rick’s hand and just holds it, smiling up at him.

In this dimension, Rick has been around Morty’s whole life. They’re very close to each other. As a small child Morty always wanted his grandpa to pick him up and hold him. Morty’s 14 now and that really hasn’t changed.

Rick goes full on Grandpapa Wolf when Morty is in danger. He cries out “NO! MY BABY!” when Morty gets hurt.

On the Citadel. A story about Citadel cops who respond to Domestic Violence calls. Most times it’s Rick’s abusing Morty’s, sometimes Rick’s abusing Rick’s, Morty’s abusing Morty’s, and on rare occasions it’s Morty’s abusing Rick’s.

Mental Age Regression. Past Child Abuse. Rick suffers a blow to the head and passes out. When he wakes up he doesn’t remember anything from after he was 10 years old. It’s weird for all of them and Morty falls into the roll of primary caretaker. Rick gets into a bit of trouble when he accidentally breaks something of Morty’s. Morty yells at him and only stops when Rick is cowering on the floor, begging Morty not to hit him, then Rick starts mumbling “I’m sorry daddy please don’t hit me I didn’t mean it”. Morty gets down next to him and holds him, apologizing.

Past Non-con. Past Child Abuse. Still having Rick’s memories on hand, Morty decides to watch more. He sees all the pain Rick has gone through, his father raping and abusing him, his mother knowing and ignoring it, bullying in school, countless instances of Rick being sexually assaulted throughout his whole life. Even some up until right before he came to live with the Smith family. He sees a memory he can’t recall where Rick took Morty’s place when some aliens intended to rape him (Rick must have erased it from Morty’s memories). Morty comes too and sees Rick ripped the device away. Morty was crying and the tears wouldn’t stop. It’s Rick who comforts him, holding him, telling him it was all in the past and that it’s okay now.

Non-Con. Time Travel. Morty travels back in time to when Rick was his age. They bond pretty quickly, spending all day together. At the end of the day Morty realizes he has nowhere to go so Rick invites him to stay the night. In middle of the night, Morty finds Rick isn’t in bed and goes looking for him. What he finds is noises coming from behind a cracked door. He peeks inside and sees Rick and Rick’s father, Rick is crying and his father is plowing into him. Morty makes a noise and next thing he knows he’s dragged into the room too. Rick begs his dad to leave Morty alone. Instead, Rick’s dad tells Morty to sit there and see what Rick is really like, then decide if he wants a friend like him afterward. He shoves Rick on top of Morty and starts fucking him again, Rick is crying, apologizing. Rick starts to unravel, begging for more. Rick’s father leaves the room once he’s done. Morty cleans Rick up and takes him back to bed. Rick begs Morty not to leave so Morty stays in bed with him, just holding him, and Rick kisses him on the mouth before going to sleep. In the morning he gets woken up by his Rick. Morty wants to wake up young Rick but Rick stops him, shaking his head ‘no’. So they leave. Before Morty can ask Rick tells him that when he woke up that morning he cried like a bitch when he saw Morty was gone. He tells Morty everything about his father, that it never stopped until his father died. That even today that man still haunts his nightmares. This time Morty kisses Rick, letting Rick hold onto him like a lifeline. Rick apologizes that Morty has to see all that but it was always going to happen.

Spanking. On the Citadel. It’s not uncommon to see Rick’s punishing their Morty’s by spanking them in public. Guard Rick’s punishing Guard Morty’s. Teacher Rick’s punishing Student Morty’s. Rick’s just going about the Citadel, their Morty’s being little brats, stopping to bend them over and whip their behinds. Some Rick’s pay good money to spank Morty’s. Some Morty’s pay good money to get spanked by Rick’s.

Rick falls in love with Morty the very first moment he sees him, when Morty was a newborn. Throughout the years and their adventures, those feelings changed into something more romantic and sexual. It makes Rick feel sick. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious grandson but he keeps pushing the envelope with the boy to get more of his love and affection. He even asked Morty to kiss him! On the lips! He hates himself more when Morty kisses him on the lips.

Pet Names. Getting Caught. Rick has a lot of pet names for Morty: babe, baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, affection insults (bitch, lil shit, etc.). But Morty’s favorite is when Rick calls him “my love”. It rarely happens because it’s not one of those pet names you could mistake for familial at all. Sadly Rick uses it during dinner with the family one night without thinking about it. Everyone did a double take and then the interrogations started.

In a dimension where Rick isn’t a scientist, he’s a criminal. Thief, murderer, arsonist, a lot of bad shit. 4 years ago kidnapping got added to his list of crimes. He tracked down only daughter and abducted his 10 year old grandson, Morty, wounding his pre-teen granddaughter (who was babysitting) at the time. They haven’t been seen or heard from since... until today. A high speed chase, a shootout, Rick being shot, bleeding out, Morty crying, rushing to him, holding him, trying to stop the bleeding, kissing Rick, telling him he’ll love him forever, Rick dying. It was all televised on the news. Beth gets her son back but does she really? Just what exactly did Rick do to the boy in 4 years?

Vore. Microphilia. Morty gets shrunk down, clothes not included. Rick messes with him by putting him in his mouth. Then he tastes something weird in there and feels something strange. Morty is grinding against Rick’s tongue and came from it. Rick’s into it.

Paternal Instincts. Caretaking. Morty wets himself during an adventure. Once they get safely home he collapses and starts bawling like a baby, his pants still wet. At first Rick tells him to stop being a pussy but that makes Morty cry harder. It triggers something in Rick and suddenly his long buried paternal instincts gutpunch him. He scoops Morty up, holds him against his chest and says “now, now, grandpa’s here, baby” and tells Morty he’ll take care of him. He takes Morty to the bathroom, undresses him, and wipes him down with a warm washcloth. He then helps Morty into his pajamas and picks him up again, asking if he felt any better and if he wants to take a nap with grandpa. Morty feels like he can’t speak so he just nods yes to both.

Taking it Slow. Making Love. Rick is really DTF-y (Down To Fuck) pretty much all the time. When he and Morty start their relationship tho, Rick tells him he’s not ready to have sex yet. Morty thinks it’s just Rick having hang ups over the whole grandson thing but no, Rick doesn’t care about that. His age then? Morty starts thinking Rick just isn’t attracted to him so Rick finally tells him he’s plenty attracted. He just wants to take it slow, not because of Morty but for himself. Morty finds out that Rick was the same with Diane, even when she was DTF. Morty thinks it’s kinda sweet so he stops pestering Rick. They date, cuddle, make out, sometimes do hand stuff. After about 6 months of dating, Rick takes him to a fancy dinner then a hotel, telling Morty he’s ready. Then he makes sweet tender love to Morty and Morty finally gets what people mean when they say “good things come to those who wait”.

Necrophilia. Character Death. Angst. Morty dies because of Rick. Rick doesn’t take it well at all. He digs up Morty’s body in the dead of night, tries to go full Viktor Frankenstein and bring him back. But nothing works. He knows it’s just an empty shell, but he can’t stop himself from caressing his body, kissing his lips, undressing him, and thrusting into him. It’s cold, there’s not an ounce of warmth left in Morty’s tiny little body. He keeps the body longer than he should after that. It’s not long before he’s found out.

Past Non-Con. Public Restroom Sex. Healing Sex. After the Mr Jellybean incident, Morty is terrified of public restrooms. Rick makes it better by giving Morty a good time in a restroom, reassuring Morty that he can put a stop to this any time. Not that Morty wants to stop. Rick comforts and praises him the whole time.

Guard Rick x Morty. The Morty of a Guard Rick loves the way Rick looks in his uniform.

Pony Rick x Pony Morty. The good thing about Equestria was that they didn’t think twice about PDA. A stallion nuzzling his grandcolt wasn’t that odd. Behind closed doors he was nailing his grandcolt’s plot pretty much every night. Rick thinks he should be careful, at this rate Morty’s cutie mark will end up being a picture of Rick’s cock.

Primitivism. In a dimension where modern tech doesn’t exist, there’s various tribes that exist. Morty’s mother Beth leads their tribe after her father stepped down. When Morty’s 14th birthday arrives, the battle for his hand in marriage begins. Being the second child (with Summer being Beth’s heir) that means Morty will leave and marry into the tribe of the victor. It’s an open contest, anyone can enter. No one ever expected Rick to enter and dominate the competition. Beth has no choice but to declare him the winner. As per tradition they must now consummate their union. Morty is afraid, but Rick makes it good for him. Afterward Morty asks why Rick did it. Rick tells him it’s because Morty always belong to him, he just made it official.

Non-con. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist going around targeting Rickless Morty’s. Detective Rick is determined to catch the Rick responsible, his Morty was a victim of the rapist and killed himself over it. Problem is the culprit looks like a plain normal Rick. One Morty was different from the rest, most skittered away to avoid Rick’s and the Cop Morty’s has to tend to them. This Morty however clung to Rick like a lifeline. Rick’s gut told him this Morty knew more than he was letting on.

After the events of S5, Rick decides it’s time to make a change. He’s tired, old, he wants to settle down. To do that he needs to sober up. No more alcohol, no more drugs. It isn’t easy going cold turkey, it’s painful, he’s going through all sorts of widthdrawl. But sweet little Morty is there to help him through all of it, cleaning up his vomit, keeping his temperature down, keeping Rick away from anything that would help him get any sort of fix, soothing him, even feeding Rick when he’s too exhausted to feed himself. It hurts, but Morty is worth it.

In this dimension Rick isn’t the smartest man alive. He’s just a loving father and grandfather who moved in with his daughter to be closer to his grandchildren. Morty loves his grandpa so much and they spend so much time together. Ever since Morty was a child he liked to sit on grandpas lap and cuddle up to him. This hasn’t changed now that he’s a teenager. Behind closed doors the two are much closer than anyone would ever suspect.

Set during that whole ride scene during The Vindicators. Rick’s drunken video confession ends up being a love confession and marriage proposal to Morty. Morty evaluates his feelings for Rick on the ride back. When Rick asks him what happened, Morty just smiles and says “yes”. He knows Rick doesn’t remember but he’s the smartest man in the universe, he’ll figure it out... eventually. BONUS: Million Ants comments that he senses a great deal of love and affection all of a sudden.

Summer POV. She sees the way they act, how they look at each other. How devoted they are to one another. They’re hopelessly in love and neither wants to admit it for the obvious reasons. In this infinitely cruel multiverse she doesn’t understand their hangups and why they’d deny themselves this shred of happiness. She wants them both to be happy, she really does. The day it finally happens she’s happy enough to cry.

Beth finds out about Rick and Morty. Instead of lashing out over the wrongness of it she turns on Morty, accusing him of stealing her dad away, calling him a slut, asking what was so special about him. Rick is stunned. Summer and Jerry run to them, Summer instantly getting between Morty and their mother, holding him close while he sobs into her chest. Jerry tried to pacify Beth, leading her away. Of all things Rick never expected Beth to accuse her own child of being to blame here. He was the adult, she should be angry with him. He leaves Morty with Summer, he needs to have a serious discussion with Beth about everything. NOTE: Beth is infatuated with Rick and is jealous of Morty. Rick has no such feelings for Beth and is in love with Morty.

In this dimension, Morty’s parents and sister died when he was six. Jerry’s parents had already passed so Morty has no one left to be his guardian except Rick. So Rick moves into the Smith household so he won’t have the uproot Morty’s life. Their relationship dynamic turns out quite different from other Rick’s and Morty’s because of it. For example, Rick is haggling over a deal in space, he’s being mean and aggressive about it. Then Morty wanders in just when Rick is about to get violent. Rick here’s Morty say “grandpa?” in a sweet little voice, not understanding what’s going on. Rick’s attitude does a 180, going into doting grandpa mode, saying “hi, sweetie, grandpa and his friend are almost done talking so go wait in the car, sweetheart”. As soon as Morty’s gone he reverts back to being violent. Basically, Rick only shows his doting grandpa side in front of Morty, he doesn’t want Morty to see his hyper aggressive side.

Evil Rick x Evil Morty. Possessive Protectivness. Morty hates Rick, but there was one good thing about him. Come hell or highwater, Rick wouldn’t let others hurt Morty. It becomes easy for Morty to manipulate Rick into getting rid of problems this way. All Morty has to do is tell him someone tried to hurt him and Rick will kill them no questions asked.

Past Non-Con & Child Abuse. During the S5 finale, Morty asks Evil Morty just what the hell his Rick did to him to make him hate Rick’s so much. Evil Morty lashes out, tells Morty he won’t just tell him - no, if he loves Rick so much then he needs to experience the pain himself. EM jabs Morty with another memory device and Morty doesn’t just see the memories, he experiences them, feels them. All the rape, abuse, death, torture, the fear. He vomits when he comes back to reality. His Rick looks concerned, but Morty is shaking like a leaf staring at him. Morty can’t see his Rick without seeing Evil Rick. Evil Morty asks him if he understands now why he hates all Rick’s. What happens next?

Big Bad Wolf Rick x Little Red Riding Hood Morty. Dub-con. Morty’s mother tells him to go deliver some food to his Grandpa Rick’s workshop, but not to stray from the path because ‘Wolves’ (which is code for ‘those creepy pedos who hang out in the woods and need to bang kids to return to human’) will get him. Along the way a Wolf tries to lure him off the trail. Morty doesn’t fall for it. Eventually he reaches his Grandpa’s workshop. Something is off about his Grandpa’s voice. And ears. And teeth. And eyes. Also all that body hair. Yeah, Morty can see where this is going. The Wolf reveals that he’s actually Morty’s Grandpa Rick, throws him on the bed, telling Morty he’s going to ‘eat’ him. Okay Morty didn’t expect him to actually be his Grandpa so he’s nervous now. But wait, if Rick fucks him then he’ll go back to normal, right? He can do that for his beloved Grandpa, he has to.

Pet Names. Morty calls Rick by pet names too. What really gets Rick going is when Morty calls him “stud”.

Bottom!Rick. When Rick gets really emotional while drunk, he wants to bottom. He wants to be loved, filled, comforted, praised. He cries throughout the whole thing, but Morty knows it’s just because he’s feeling vulnerable. Morty likes to take care of Rick when he’s like this.

Bottom!Rick. It’s their first time and Morty is a nervous wreck. Rick takes the lead in a different way, riding Morty cowgirl style. To be honest, Morty is pretty small and Rick is pretty loose down there so it’s physically not as great as Rick would like but it feels nice and Morty sure as hell enjoyed it. Didn’t exactly last very long.

Orgasm Control Training. Morty can’t control his damn dick so Rick decides to train him to hold back his orgasms. Cock cages, chastity belts, cock rings, nothing seems effective so he trains Morty’s body to need prostate orgasms instead. Which is to say now Morty can’t cum without having his prostate stimulated and he can’t do that without Rick’s fingers or his dick. He knows. He’s tried toys and they can’t get the job done.

Prostate Orgasm. Rick’s robot arm has a vibrate function. He loves unraveling Morty by hitting his prostate with his fingers and turning on the vibration. He can tease Morty for hours this way, denying him release when he’s so close. He never lets Morty touch his dick anymore. If Morty wants to get off he needs to beg Rick to abuse his prostate.

Size Difference Kink. Stomach Buldge. Rick is like 6’4-6” tall while Morty is only like 5’2”. Their dicks have the same proportionate size difference. Rick’s is huge while Morty’s is smaller than average. When Rick fucks him you can actually see the buldge of Rick’s cock in Morty’s guts. Rick loves how tiny and hot Morty is, loves his tiny little dick, his tight ass, his little mouth. He hopes Morty doesn’t grow much more because he doesn’t wanna lose his cute little Morty.

Hand Holding. Rick’s taken up the habit of holding Morty’s hand like he’s a child everywhere they go.

Rick contemplated moving into a younger body to spend more years with Morty. When he brings this up Morty isn’t keen on the idea. Turns out Morty isn’t really attracted to Rick’s younger selves, he fell in love with Rick as an old man and that’s just how he likes him. Sure if it’ll help Rick stick around longer he gets it but does he have to go too much younger? Like Morty could be okay with a 50 or 60 year old Rick. Rick decides to stick with his current body for a while longer.

Yandere Rick. Non-con. Captivity. Traditional Wife Kink. Rick won’t allow anyone to even lay eyes on his precious Morty. He takes him off world, on an isolated planet, keeps him locked up in a cozy little home just for the two of them. Rick gave up on most of his adventures, only leaving for short periods of time. Morty is expected to keep the house clean, make dinner, do all the chores, and most importantly take care of his husbands sexual needs. Morty is terrified but, so long as he doesn’t fuck up any of his wifely duties, Rick is gentle with him. If he burns dinner, forgets his chores, anything — Rick punishes him, he sees it as Morty not wanting to be with him. It doesn’t make any sense to Morty and he knows this is going to be his life until Rick dies. What Morty truly hates is that he looks forward to Rick fucking him each night. In those moments he’s able to lay back and let Rick do all the work, Rick wants him to feel good during it after all. It’s also the only time Morty gets leeway on his chores because Rick gets cuddly after sex. When Morty gets sick he tells him he won’t have to do any work today too. Morty doesn’t want this at all but he finds these peaceful moments.

#rick and morty #rickorty #c 137cest #rickmorty #prompts

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

Faking To Pretend (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Request: cathy cathy cathy here i am with another request *sigh* i cant help myself your writing is just too good

i was wondering if i might request a steve rogers x reader fic where maybe reader and steve are paired up for a mission and have to pretend to be married (undercover) and some thing happen to kind of force them to admit their feelings for each other (maybe one of them gets injured? or kidnapped idk you do what you want to 😂) anyways LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️ (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Fake engagements, wedding plans & an undercover mission that jeopardized your well-being in the blink of an eye. Throughout it all, you somehow had to hide the fact that your feelings for Steve were just friendly, nothing more.

Words: 8,610

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, humor, argument, brief mentions of drugs, undercover mission (engagement & wedding plans), female pronouns used, that's pretty much it

[Mimi…this happens when our ideas get mixed up. LOVE YOU TOO!]

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The familiar sound of a notification emanated from your phone. You deposited the book you had been immersed in onto the mattress & replaced it with the device. It confused you for a second when you noticed Tony being the one to message you. After all, you were literally in the same building.

Stark: meeting in 5.

(Y/N): you do know that you could tell me in person, right? just knock or something.

Stark: you’re too far away.

(Y/N): two doors, stark. TWO!

Stark: meeting in 4.

(Y/N): i hate you.

A loud sigh escaped through your lips. Typical Tony. Two could play that game. You planned on arriving right in time, not earlier. Maybe a few seconds too late. Anything to mess with him. At least he could get a taste of his own medicine that way.

“You’re a minute late.” Tony commented when he watched you walk inside the room. Your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned your shoulder against the door frame.

“You’re lucky I came in the first place.” you remarked. “Besides, I’m the first one here. Mission alone?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows while expectantly waiting for his answer. It was not usual for you to go alone. Except if the mission concerned grabbing pizza from the place down the block. You hoped for him that he did not pull that card, though.

“No but I wanted to discuss it with you before the others- oh, never mind.” Tony stopped talking when three more figures entered the room, brushing past your frame without paying too much attention to you. Sam. Bucky. Steve. What a damn combination. That was your team? Well, good luck. Everyone got seated on the chairs circling the big table but you stood your ground in the doorway. Steve patted the free chair next to his side, eyes flickering up to yours. A silent invitation you politely declined by shaking your head but you made sure that he could detect your small smile. Tony did not seem to mind & went straight ahead into explaining the mission you four had to perform. Most of the time, you zoned off though you really did try your hardest to stay focused. But when you glanced between the men in the room, you already knew the chaos that would come with them.

Basically, the team came across a signal emitting from the back of a small shop. From what you knew so far, it was some sort of a database that saved a whole lot of criminals. Some of them who you had fought in the past & some of them who you had never heard of but they sounded incredibly dangerous nevertheless.

“Question.” one of your hands raised & you waited for them to look at you.

“Go for it.” Tony pointed over to you, letting out a low breath because you were behaving as if you were in class & needed permission before speaking up.

“Why do Steve & I have to be the ones engaged?” normally, you would not care about undercover missions. But when said mission had you teamed up & fake-engaged to Steve? Well, you had a hard time separating work from personal feelings. Not that anything was going on between you guys but you would not lie if you said that you wanted to change it.

“What, do you want Sam & Bucky to be the couple in question?” Stark, in return, asked another question & you rolled your eyes.

“No, of course not.” that earned you disagreements from both, Sam & Bucky. Steve simply sat by, chuckling quietly while observing your conversation quietly.

“And Steve & you are close. It’ll be easier for you guys to pretend.” Tony casually stated & you had to fight the urge to avert your gaze. If you did, they sure as hell would realize something being wrong with you. And you were not about to be embarrassed in front of them. Maybe you already were but at least they did not know about it. After all, you were a fucking great actor.

“Uh-huh.” so you played it cool. As cool as the situation allowed you to be. “But why do we need Laurel & Hardy with us then?”

“Because I said so.” Tony used your most hated phrase & he damn well knew it. After a short pause, he turned a bit more serious again. “They’ll be Steve’s best men.”

“Wait.” your hand raised & you closed your eyes for a second. “Steve has two best men & I’m not allowed a maid of honor?” now everyone inside the meeting room was chuckling. Everyone but you.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Stark shrugged, brushing it off as nothing though he was aware that you were annoyed by his plan already.

“How is that fair?” you could not stop asking questions, somehow hoping that if you continued, you could get out of this successfully. Deep down, it was clear that the mission had been planned & you could not do anything to change it. Not even a single thing.

“It isn’t.” Tony admitted with a brief nod of his head. “But you’ll need Sam & Bucky on this one. So stop bitching around.”

“These are gonna be some long ass days…” you mumbled, putting your face in your hands in frustration.

“Enjoy!” & with that, Tony dismissed you, leaving you behind dumbfounded.

Sam & Bucky exited the room soon after. Steve & you were the only ones left.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Immediately, the frown was replaced by a genuine grin. You found yourself in this state whenever he looked at you like that. Whenever he talked to you, actually. “Everything okay?” his eyes showed concern. They usually did when he noticed you zoning off.

“Huh?” you asked before the words had processed. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“I’m sorry about.” his hands gestured wildly, searching for the most suitable words. “The mission being uncomfortable for you.”

“No, it’s not uncomfortable.” you tried to explain yourself. “Just, sometimes I feel like Stark just wants to mess with me.”

“Well, if it helps cheering you up…I’ll behave.” he winked at you playfully & you hated how your body reacted to such simple movements.

“I’m sure you will.” you snickered. “My true worries are your best men.” a sly smirk spread onto your face & Steve could not hold back a chuckle.

“Yeah, I can’t control them.” he agreed with you. “I’ll see you around.” he walked past you, turning around one last time. You simply nodded at him, not trusting your own voice. While you handled the situation as best as you could, you wanted to avoid an awkward goodbye. Besides, you would set out first thing in the morning. You needed some alone time before shit started going down. Not that you expected this mission to fail. The exact opposite, actually. The four of you worked incredibly well together. Compensating other’s mistakes & improvising fast if needed. Mostly, though, you ended up straying from the actual plan & that was what had you worried. Because if you did not stick to it, things could turn real uncomfortable real quick.

As if the mission itself was not demanding enough, the car ride to even arrive at your destination was ten times worse. Steve was behind the wheel & you were lucky that you occupied the passenger’s seat & did not have to sit in the back with either Sam or Bucky. They were children, really. Right now, it felt like Steve & you were the parents of two incredibly challenging kids who could not shut their mouths. Not even for a second. Steve succeeded with ignoring them & he was concentrating on the road so that gave him another thing to do. You, on the other hand, were stuck without any distractions except for the bickering that was currently going on in the backseat. But you knew better than to interrupt them because if you did, it would only turn worse. So you took a few deep breaths & settled further into your seat, closing your eyes to maybe rest a bit before your arrival. What you did not notice was Steve glancing over to your figure, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recognized you attempting to sleep during the stress inside the car.

At least the hotel Tony checked you in was worth it. Fake-engagements had their perks. Especially if a luxurious suite was a part of it. Sam & Bucky were somewhere in another room but Steve & you, the two of you pretty much occupied an entire floor. That was how huge your room was. You did not even have to carry your own suitcases. There was an employee who helped you with that. What a nice way of living that was. If only you were not pretending. But why were you even thinking that way? You had a mission to perform & more importantly, you could not fail. And you would not if you solely focused on your task. It could not be that hard, right? You had done something similar multiple times before. It should be an easy one for you. But it was not. And the main reason was Steve. It was wrong of you to put the blame on him but how could you not if you literally had to pretend to be his fiancée? It felt like a secret wish you did not dare to voice. And yet he was here right in front of you, in the same room. A place you were supposed to share for the next few days. And you somehow had to play it cool. There was only one outcome. Burying your feelings deep down in order to not jeopardize the mission or your team. No matter how much your heart protested.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Steve’s voice as you were stepping out of the shower. Only a towel was covering your still wet body but you feared that, if you did not open the door right away, you were in danger somehow. That was your mind’s conclusion. Which really did not make any sense if you gave it a second thought. You opened the door a crack, risking a glance outside & eased when you only saw Steve on the other end. It was a natural reaction for you to push the door open wider. But you kind of forgot that you were not wearing any clothes except for that poor excuse of a hotel towel which was way too small for your liking. Steve’s eyes widened & he could not stop from letting them flicker up & down your body. You squirmed under his stare, arms coming to cross over your chest in order to keep the fabric in place. A few moments of awkward silence ticked by & you wanted it to end. So you coughed & gained his attention once more. His eyes were locking with yours & while you usually lost yourself in them, you were way more comfortable than having him eyeing your every part in great detail.

“You needed anything?” you stuttered out, hoping your voice did not sound all too weak but even to yourself, you were aware that you were failing.

“Um, yeah…” his cheeks turned rosy. One of his hands came up to scratch the back of his neck. “But I probably should’ve waited a couple minutes longer.” he should have but it was too late now anyway.

“If it’s nothing too important then I’ll go get dressed real quick, alright? I’ll take like two minutes.” you attempted an honest smile but it was underlined with a hint of embarrassment that was definitely detectable. Steve simply nodded, stepping back a bit so you could close the door once more. Your back rested against the wooden surface & you quietly sighed out with closed eyes. That was not what you expected. Fingers crossed nothing between you two would turn awkward from now on. But then again, he was your best friend & it was not like you were completely naked. Just barely dressed but covered enough so he did not see anything. You would be just fine.

With a decent outfit & regained confidence, you exited the bathroom & found Steve sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at his hands where he shifted a small package between his fingers. His head snapped up when he heard your footsteps. You two exchanged a smile & it was then when you knew that your shamefaced encounter would not change the bond you shared. It was as if everything was the same old. And it was probably for the better.

“Was that why you needed something from me?” you gestured to the little box & Steve was brought back to reality. Right, there was a reason why he wanted to talk to you in the first place.

“Tony gave it to me right before we left.” he stood up & approached you with long steps. “Said it’d be more believable if you wore one.” Steve stretched out his hand so you could take the black package from him. With curious eyes & delicate fingers, you took it from him. Your eyebrows raised as your eyes met his but he only shrugged at you without giving you an actual explanation. Carefully, you uncapped the box & were shocked when you noticed the small, sparkling ring inside. The colors of the rainbow reflected in the diamond adorning the silver jewelry. It looked way too expensive for it to be a fake one.

“Tony wants me to wear an engagement ring?” you asked even though it was more than obvious. Maybe you just needed reassurance.

“Makes it more believable.” Steve repeated.

“It probably cost more than what I’ll earn in a lifetime.” you chuckled & closed the lid again.

“So you’re not gonna wear it?” he questioned cautiously. For a flicker, he turned insecure because maybe the reason why you refused to wear it was because you did not want people to believe he was your fiancé.

“Of course I’m gonna wear it! It’s stunning. Just…” you paused briefly & bit your bottom lip to contemplate your next words. “It’s expensive. I can’t risk losing it. I’ll put it on whenever we’re outta this room, though. I won’t be the one blowing our cover.” you assured & laughed because you were indirectly blaming Sam or Bucky to mess up. Steve silently agreed with you but did not say anything else as you situated the ring on the nightstand right next to the large bed. It was late, the moon already doing its job with providing a pleasant light that shone through the blinds & illuminated the gloomy suite. For tomorrow’s mission, you needed to be well-rested to fully function.

Steve insisted that you should occupy the bed on your own. He would be perfectly fine on the couch. The cushions of it were incredibly soft, Tony had paid a fortune after all, you still felt poorly for sleeping in the bed alone. Tomorrow would most likely bring him back pain. He was not the youngest soul, after all. Not that you would ever tell him. It was not meant as offending, though. If you were the one on the couch, your back would kill you as well. But you were too much of a coward to suggest that there was enough space for two people. That & you were scared that he did not even want to share in the first place. That could be an intelligible possibility. Your overthinking consumed quite a bit of time because when you heard Steve’s soft & even breaths, you knew that you were too late already. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe you could gain enough courage to ask him tomorrow. Why were you even so eager to have him beside you? What kind of question was that? You were very well aware why. The conversation you held with yourself in your mind came to an abrupt stop as exhaustion overcame & lulled you into a dreamless night.

Constant knocking stirred you awake. You groaned into your pillow because you were still tired but someone decided to shorten your rest. Assuming Steve was already up, you peeked over the blankets covering your body. You were right, he was opening the door. Appearing like he had not just got out of bed. Or off of the couch, in his case. Steve tried to be as quiet as possible, thinking that you were still passed out on the bed.

“G’morning.” you mumbled out & wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. Steve smiled at you. Right now, you looked cute. Pissed off because it was too early but that did not matter when you were all wrapped up in the blankets.

“Coffee?” he suggested & you immediately got into a sitting position at the mention of it. He had his answer then.

“Wait. What is this?” you gestured to the serving trolley Steve was pushing over to the bed. It was obvious what it was but you were bewildered because you did not expect him to order breakfast.

“Tony took our undercover mission very serious.” he shrugged, leaving the food next to you & wanting to grab a few things to eat by the table.

“No.” you shook your head & halted his movements. “I mean, come on. When was the last time you had breakfast in bed?” you patted the spot next to you. Steve paused for a second but after a short while of contemplation, he agreed & got seated on the mattress. Breakfast in bed. That itself would have been amazing but with Steve? It was almost as if a dream of yours got fulfilled. You needed to stop thinking that way. Undercover missions meant faking, pretending. Why were you struggling so much this time?

“I look like a bitch.” you commented once you got into your undercover outfit. Sam & Bucky were already in your suite & they complained about what a poor excuse their room was compared to yours.

“So what’s different?” Sam joked & earned a slap from you.

“First of all, if we don’t wear what Tony prepared for us, people will notice. And (Y/N)? You don’t look like a bitch, you’re good.” Steve commented & even though his words were not necessarily cute, they still did things to you.

“Woah, Steve. Nice ring you picked out there, pal.” Bucky spotted the diamond on your finger & could not help himself but tease you two about it.

“Could we all just focus on the mission?” funny thing that you were the one saying that. Considering that you probably struggled the most out of the four of you.

“Okay, got it. (Y/N) doesn’t look like a bitch but she acts like one.” Sam smirked & started sprinting through the suite when you took off to catch him. Steve & Bucky shook their heads & chuckled at your childish behavior. None of this was new, though. Things usually went that way when you were sent on a mission together.

“The signal comes from the back of this shop.” Steve whispered, all of you trying to stay undetected for the time being so you could discuss the plan further.

“It’s a pastry shop?” you pointed out & suddenly, three men were rolling their eyes at you. “What?”

“You expected something that sold knives?” Sam teased.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” you whisper-yelled.

“Sam, Bucky. You two enter the back while (Y/N) & I distract the guy.” Steve described your plan once more & you all nodded, each understanding their task. While you did not exactly know what you would do to grab the clerk’s attention, you were certain that you could think of something. Improvising was something you were skilled at, you simply hoped that Steve would not stand in the way.

“Welcome! What can I help y’all with?” the almost sweet voice of the man behind the counter was not what you would expect when you looked him up & down. At the same time, he really appeared out of place in a shop like that.

“Yes!” your enthusiasm, well fake-enthusiasm, was more than obvious & you wrapped your arms around Steve’s torso to get into character. “My fiancé & I are looking for some pies for our upcoming wedding.” Steve let you do the talking, his only response being a nod, underlined with a genuine smile.

“Ah, young love.” the guy clicked his tongue & shook his head slightly. “We have a variety of our best wedding cakes right here.” he pointed to a selection behind a class cabinet.

“No, no, no.” you contradicted. “We’d love to have pie at our wedding. I saw you have some delicious looking options over there.” you gestured to the other side of the shop.

“Pie at a wedding? Isn’t that a little unconventional?” the seller raised his eyebrows, seemingly suspicious & it looked like Steve noticed that as well.

“I think we’ll do fine with cak-“ but before he had the chance to finish, you nudged him with your elbow & shot him a look. “I’m sure your cake is great but pie reflects us better.” Steve corrected himself quickly once he realized what you were planning to do.

“Alrighty, then please follow me over there.” the place behind the counter was now free so Sam & Bucky had a clear path to enter. “Any preferences?”

“Anything, really.” you encouraged the man who opened the showcase. He was so busy with his task, Sam & Bucky had it easy to break in. The corners of your eyes spotted their figures. Now they just needed more time to successfully get the information you all needed.

“Can I ask y’all something?” the clerk spoke up after handing you yet another sample of pie. Truthfully, it was a dream come true. Spending time with Steve while eating pie after pie? If only you did not have to pretend. Did you pretend? Or did you fake to pretend? Your brain did not make sense anymore.

“Go for it.” Steve encouraged.

“You’re the first couple to ask for pie samples. What’s up with that?” the man asked curiously, no longer looking at you like you were suspicious but genuinely interested.

“Well.” Steve chuckled & you could not help but let your gaze flicker up to his face. “We are a very unusual couple. Pie at a wedding is unusual. It’s perfect.” while he spoke those last words, his eyes locked with yours & you could have sworn that time halted right then & there. But you had to snap out of it. For the sake of this mission. A look over the shop owner’s shoulder confirmed that you did not have to pretend too much longer. Sam & Bucky were already on their way out again, turning their heads in your direction to silently confirm that they were done. Successful? That you could not tell just yet.

A few minutes & another pie later, you looked at your watch on your wrist & gasped exaggeratingly.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve asked & you almost gasped again, though this time, it would have been for an entirely different reason.

“Um, it’s late, we need to head to the thing.” you were doing so well & now, at the end, you managed to slip.

“The thing?” Steve inquired & by the look on your face he could tell that you were overwhelmed & could not think of a proper excuse. “Oh, the fitting.” he quickly added, hoping nobody would ask which kind of fitting. Seemed like you two were lucky today.

“In that case…I’ll let y’all go. Do you want me to put the rest of the samples in a box for you to take home? That way you have more time to figure out which one to choose.” he reasoned & Steve & you nodded gratefully. Behind the counter, he worked quickly & handed you a paper bag in no time.

“Thanks, man. We’ll get back to you.” Steve waved, putting an arm over your shoulder as you exited the shop. The moment you were out, you could finally breathe again. Missions made you extremely nervous. Undercover missions such as this one, actually. During the others you were perfectly fine.

“Thanks for helping me out back in there.” you chuckled once you were out of sight.

“Pie? Really? Wouldn’t have surprised me if he just saw through us right away.” Steve said with a smile on his face. Good, so he was not mad at you.

“In my defense…The pies were at the other end of the shop so I helped Sam & Bucky.” you finished your sentence but it sounded as if you wanted to add something.

“And you love pie?” Steve did not even have to ask, he knew you well enough.

“And I love pie.” you repeated & laughed. Steve still had not let go of you, hugging you to the side of his body. You did not seem to mind so he kept continuing to hold you close.

Steve placed the paper bag on the small table right in the entrance area. Immediately, you went to the bathroom to rid yourself of that stupid outfit you had to wear & threw on something more comfortable. Once you exited, Sam was already in your suite. The four of you decided to have the meeting in your room because it was bigger & the others kind of wanted to move in with you.

“What’s in there?” Sam asked, pointing to the brown paper bag.

“Pie.” you simply answered without much thought. Sam hummed but did not say anything else. Steve & you were in the living room area, waiting for Bucky to show up so you could start discussing more about this mission. Specifically what they found out during their inspection. The creak of the door gained your attention & you looked up only to find Bucky entering. Your gaze then flickered to Sam who was hiding behind the door, pie in one hand, his free hand came to his mouth, telling you to be quiet. It all happened too fast, Bucky was in Sam’s sight & in an instant, there was a pie right in the super soldier’s face. Steve came right in time to watch the scene, his previous intention to greet his best friend completely forgotten now.

“Sam.” Bucky growled, way too quiet for your liking. But you could not focus on his warning right now. You glanced over your shoulder & noticed Steve’s almost sad expression. The only one who could not control his laughter was Sam. He was practically on the floor because he was laughing so hard. The only emotion running through you was anger.

“I. WANTED. TO. EAT. THAT.” you were seething & all three men turned their heads at your tone.

“Sorry?” Sam tried but you were having none of it.

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” you pretty much yelled.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Bucky whispered & Sam took that as his cue to run away, through that labyrinth of your suite. Bucky sprinted after him, leaving Steve to shake his head at their childish behavior.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice was soft & yet it did nothing to calm you down. You really did love pie & you had been excited to eat the rest of it in bed tonight ever since you left that shop.

“WHAT?” you snapped back, only now realizing that it was not Steve’s fault. “I’m sorry.” you added almost inaudible.

“It’s fine.” he raised his eyebrows & opened his arms. You were not sure why but Steve wanted to hug you & you never declined one of his hugs. So you fell into his embrace, both of you silently knowing that this action was not because of a stupid pie. Though you had to admit that you were mad at Sam that you could not eat the rest anymore. This hug held a deeper meaning & for a few seconds, you let yourself enjoy it. Until a loud screech from the other room snapped you back into the present. Steve & you parted unwillingly. You had to, before Sam & Bucky ended up killing each other.

The four of you sat around the coffee table, you occupying the floor while the others each took a seat on the oversized couch. A pout was still very much present on your face. Yes, you were mad at Sam but you had other things, more important things, to deal with right now. Revenge could come later.

“So?” Steve was the one to speak up after nobody else made a move to do so.

“Sam & I managed to break in.” Bucky casually said as if you did not see that to begin with. That was the plan after all.

“But?” your tone was still harsh but you tried your hardest to push that aside.

“We couldn’t hack the system.” Sam finished. “That’s your specialty.”

“Okay, wait.” you closed your eyes briefly. “You wanna tell me that it took you what felt like an eternity to check out the back room only to sit here now & tell us that you couldn’t get the information?” you concluded with a loud sigh.

“In our defense…We know that we’re definitely looking at the right place.” Bucky commented, careful to not anger you any further.

“So what do you suggest?” Steve asked the two men.

“We’ll go there again tonight. All of us. (Y/N) here hacks the system & we’ll see what we can do after that.” Sam established the new plan & you nodded in understanding.

“I still hate you for wasting the pie on Bucky.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sam chuckled though you knew he was not planning on keeping his promise.

“Alright, please go back to your room before I do something I might regret later.” you motioned for Sam & Bucky to leave & they did after arranging a time to meet again.

Since you had the brains in this group, it was an easy one for you to deactivate the security cameras without being seen. After that, you went on to the alarm system & turned it off as well. Which meant that you were free to go. It was the dead of the night, nobody was around. You could enter without a single soul watching you. Steve pushed his body weight against the back door. Once, twice. Until it opened.

“You do know that I could’ve picked the lock, right?” your voice made him spin around. It looked like he only now thought of that but he brushed it off, pretending that this was his plan & it worked out the way he wanted to. The room appeared rather normal. Nothing that caught your eye, nothing that was out of place. An office like you had seen multiple times. The computer was turned off so you changed that real quick, waiting for the screens to light up.

“Earlier today, it wasn’t protected by a password.” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, dumbass. Because the computer was on already. Give me a second.” you opened various drawers to look for a sign as to what the password could possibly be. The others let you do your work, not daring to speak up to interrupt you. “There we go.” you found a small paper in between some notebooks. Not necessarily the safest place to keep secret things but you would not judge. The home screen showed up. Again, nothing special. Simply a picture of flowers. Weird for the guy who worked here but that was none of your concerns.

“And?” Steve broke the silence.

“There are some decrypted files…” you mumbled, sitting down on the office chair. This would take a bit longer, you assumed.

“Can you get access?” another question from Steve. At least the children were quiet for now.

“Of course I can.” you smiled triumphantly. “Give me a few minutes, though.” you were so focused on the screen, you did not see the others nodding. It was tough, you were not going to lie, but it was you who hacked into the system. You never failed with that.

“Huh.” you breathed out. Truthfully, you were overwhelmed with all the information you were receiving with one look only. Steve, Sam & Bucky each took a place behind you, staring at the screen curiously. “Guys? That’s…scary.” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“What is this?” Bucky mumbled quietly but since it was so silent in this room, everyone heard. This was way bigger than you initially thought. Once you made it back to your hotel, you needed to call Tony.

“(Y/N).” Steve shoved you away gently, taking the mouse in his hand to enlarge what caught his attention. You had to gulp at what you saw. What the hell were you doing on there? Steve’s muscles tensed, you could tell by one single look at him. It took a few deep breaths from your side until you started the process of transferring the information on your little flash drive. ”(Y/N).” Steve tried again, this time a bit louder.

“Yeah, I know.” you answered, ignoring your fast beating heart as much as it was possible. “I got everything, let’s head back.” it was clear that you wanted to leave this place behind & you were the first who made it out into the cool night air. Breathing worked easier out here.

“Hey, Tony.” by now, you were back in your hotel room, picking up your phone to call Tony once Steve went into the bathroom.

“(Y/N)! Successful?” he asked, already thinking that you finished this mission & started heading home.

“Not yet. Seems like this is bigger than we thought…” you trailed off at the end, not really wanting to explain what you found out.

“Bigger how? (Y/L/N), come on.” Tony urged & heard you sigh over the phone.

“It was at the back of the shop, that was correct. I hacked into the system & …it looks like it’s some sort of website where people can pay beforehand, assigning criminals for certain acts. It’s huge, Tony. Tons of people have an account & there are so many new assignments every minute…I’ll send you the data in a second, okay? We’ll check out the coordinates we found tomorrow. We think it could lead us to a very important member of this website. And maybe the guy from the shop has something to do with it, though I’m not sure which part he plays in all of that.” you left out a very significant detail & hoped he would not ask more questions.

“There’s something else.” he stated, knowing you better even though he could not read your body language like he usually did.

“That’s all. I promise we’ll finish this missi-“ your phone was taken from you but before you could complain about it, Steve continued the call with Tony.

“Someone instructed to eliminate (Y/N) because, & I quote, “She’s too pretty to be part of the Avengers”. That assignment was where we got the coordinates from. Means the guy from the shop probably manages all of that but he isn’t the one we’re looking for.” silence enveloped you two & you figured that Tony was talking on the other end. “Yeah, sure. That’s the top priority. We’ll work on that & you start looking into the website.” Steve ended the call & threw your phone on the mattress next to where you were sitting.

“What the hell, Steve?” you were furious because he acted differently. And not in a good way. The only response from him was a cold look. He then moved out to the balcony that was attached to your suite. It was unusual for him to be so distanced, especially when it came to you. And you were hesitant to follow him. Considering his body language, he was mad at you. Why? You had no idea. Did you do anything to piss him off? Your gaze fell to your hands in your lap. The diamond on your ring finger sparkled beautifully. You recalled how it felt to be next to Steve, in that small pastry shop where you ate pie after pie to pick the perfect one for your wedding. This was something that could never be. It was all pretending but why did it feel so real to you? Steve probably was not struggling as much as you were & you hated yourself for it.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Steve eased when he found you standing next to him. The sun would begin rising soon but the both of you were not tired at all. Though the reasons were different. Steve’s mind was still occupied with the information that there was someone out there who paid an awful lot of money to have you eliminated. You, on the other hand, struggled with keeping your feelings buried. Your hands held onto the railing. The movement made Steve look down where the engagement ring was still adorning your hand. You had not taken it off yet. In fact, he only realized that now, you even wore it during your mission of breaking into the shop. Sam & Bucky did not comment on it & to Steve, it was almost…normal. But you did say you would not keep it on you unless you were outside, pretending to be engaged to him.

“What did I do?” your voice interrupted his racing thoughts.

“What?” Steve was confused that you believed you did something wrong.

“Ever since we got outta that shop, you’ve been distant & cold. Was it something I did?” you kept looking straight forward, not wanting to hold eye contact because you feared the worst. That you managed to mess up somehow & Steve was angry at you.

“You didn’t do anything.” his body faced yours & you could practically feel his eyes on you. His intense stare made your breath hitch up.

“You sure about that?” finally, you turned around. Your bodies were almost touching, you underestimated the distance between you two.

“You act as if you don’t care.” his statement had you furrow your eyebrows. He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “Someone paid a huge amount of money. To have you killed. And here you are, pretending that it doesn’t matter. It’s something you’re really good at, huh? Pretending.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” your voice raised slightly but you still wanted to keep it down, you were outside, everyone could hear your conversation.

“See? You’re doing it again.” Steve called you out. “We found that piece of information by accident.”

“I’m aware.” you arms went to hug yourself. A distraction that barely did its job.

“So your life means nothing to you.” his words were harsh. And if you were honest, they hurt. A lot.

“I never said that.” you hated how your voice wavered. How you could not appear to be the strong woman right now.

“You act like it, though.” with each word he said, your heart broke a little more. If only he knew. “I understand. This whole pretending thing is something you’re good at. This mission showed that much. But this is real, (Y/N). So, for a second, stop pretending & act like you care!”

“STOP!” you yelled out of breath. Instinctively, Steve took a step back, eyes wide by your sudden outburst. “Just stop.” this time, you spoke it much softer. Your gaze flickered to the ground, head hanging low.

“I’m sorr-“ Steve was interrupted.

“I said stop.” you repeated. “Steve, we’re on a mission. We’re supposed to put a stop to this shit. None of this has anything to do with me pretending to be your fiancée or me pretending that I don’t give a damn about my life.”

“Are you sure about that?” he emphasized. One hand went to the diamond on your finger & slipped it off. You made a fist around it, though it was not with a lot of pressure. You did not intend to damage the ring.

“I might be good at pretending but I’m no professional.” you admitted. Steve grew more & more confused. He did not know you were talking about the fact that you were not pretending to be engaged to him. To you, it felt natural, it felt good. Right now, though, you did pretend that none of this faced you. But Steve could not tell the difference.

“Can I be honest with you?” he waited until your eyes met his.

“Go ahead.” you waved your hand for him to continue.

“I was cold towards you because once we found out about that, you didn’t say anything about it. And I can’t believe that you just don’t care about it. About your life. I can’t. You don’t have to pretend when you’re with me, you know that. We’re not engaged right now. No undercover mission. You & me. So please be honest with me.” he took your hands into his & you did not flinch back. The touch grounded you but it was no lie that you were having a hard time to be completely honest with him.

“Why do you care so much?” maybe not the smartest thing to ask. Steve’s reaction was proof enough. He let go of your hands, turned his back towards you & let out a breathless laugh. His hands raised to his hair, messing it up in the slightest. Seconds ticked by but it felt like hours until he spun around once more.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” it seemed like that confession made the both of you stop dead in your tracks. It was not the first time Steve said those words but his tone differed from the previous ones. Still, chances were high he addressed your friendship with that. Because you were friends. Simple friends. “Say something.” he grew desperate when you did not reply.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say. That I love you, too? You know that, Steve.” your words were steady, calculated. It was too soon to get your hopes up.

“How far do I have to go for you to realize that I want you?” he approached you, hesitancy in his steps. “Didn’t it feel natural to you when we acted like a couple? Because, I can’t keep that up anymore, I can’t. Tell me you don’t feel the same & I’ll back off. We can forget this right now, we don’t have to talk about it anymore. But if you-“ his speech was cute but you had to be close to him now that he finally confessed that there was more between you two. You cupped his cheeks & pulled him in to kiss him. Steve was shocked at first but it did not take him too long until his hands rested on your waist, tightening his grip on you. After parting, Steve kept his forehead against yours. Both of you had your eyes closed, breathing the same air. You imagined this exact moment more than once. But never before had it played out like that. Not that you were complaining, your feelings were finally out there.

“You were wrong, you know?” as much as you enjoyed the silence, there was still something you wanted him to know.

“Wrong about what?” he opened his eyes to look at every feature of you. Because it was no longer forbidden, he was allowed to do that now.

“I didn’t pretend while we were in the shop pie tasting.” you admitted, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips. “I faked pretending, if that makes sense…But, after I saw the bounty on my head, I started pretending.” he nodded at you, squeezing your waist once to encourage you to keep talking. “Steve? I’m scared.”

“It’s okay.” Steve’s arms went around your shoulders, pulling you close once again. His chin on your head. If only that could dispose of all of your worries. The only thing he could do was letting you hold onto him.

Steve did not sleep on the couch that night. Not because he did not want to but because you insisted to have him close. It was not the first time you two shared a bed. Sometimes, when missions did not allow you anything else, you ended up next to each other. Tonight felt different, better. Because there was no longer a weight on your heart. Were you two in a relationship already? Maybe you had been for some time but the two of you were too oblivious to notice. There was enough time to label whatever this was as soon as this mission was over. Your focus should solely be on this mission. Tons of lives depended on it. Yours included.

“You’re stubborn. Do you know that?” the next morning came sooner than you would have liked. No time for cuddling in bed, no time for breakfast. Two hours of sleep was all you got. But you had never felt this rested in your entire life. The reason was a certain super soldier. Not that you would ever admit that.

“Would I have chickened out if I didn’t know they were after me? No. I can handle myself.” Steve suggested for you to stay behind because they were looking for you. It could bring on unnecessary danger & he obviously needed you to be safe.

“But we know now.” Steve tried reasoning but it was useless, you already made your decision.

“Right. So it’s time to put a stop to it. Come on, Sam & Bucky are waiting for us.” you were out of the door before Steve found enough time to argue with you.

The drive to the coordinates was tense. Not even the kids in the back were joking around. Possibly because this mission turned into something way more hazardous. The situation between Steve & you was the same. Hence why nobody commented on it. After all, you pretty much confessed before there was an actual confession. Therefore, it was the same old. The only difference was your gut feeling that did not give you a hard time anymore. That was not entirely true. You had a bad gut feeling but for another reason.

“That’s the house?” you gestured to the building after the car came to a stop.

“This is it.” Steve confirmed.

“I don’t know why I expected some sort of villa.” Bucky commented while glancing out of the window.

“Maybe that would be too obvious. I mean, we do know that they receive the money beforehand, right? And I’m sure that the order to eliminate me wasn’t his first one.” you spotted Steve tensing up when you talked about that assignment. Your hand squeezed his shoulder & you hoped that your smile was convincing enough. You were alright & you would be after this mission. With Steve, Sam & Bucky on your side, you had nothing to fear. If push came to shove, they would go out of their ways to keep you safe.

“Steve?” Sam spoke up. “You know we need him alive, right?”

“Of course.” Steve nodded though his mind was contemplating going further than that. Unfortunately, you still had to figure out who was the one to assign this to the criminal. Tony was onto that, checking if there was more to find out about that anonymous account who paid the money. “A few punches won’t kill him.”

It was the break of dawn & the neighborhood was completely empty. The silence inside the car was interrupted by Steve’s sign to make a move. All of you stayed close together, you were not about to make the same mistake people did in horror movies. Besides, you felt safer with them around. A noise made you spin around. It was coming from down the hallway. Steve took the lead, you right behind him. Sam & Bucky trailing behind after you. A gun was clutched in your hand but you were not intending to use it today. Hopefully there was no need to. Steve shot you a look over his shoulder, silently telling you to be prepared. When he pushed the door open with his body weight this time, you did not tease him about it like you did when you broke into the back of the pastry shop the other night. The sight you were met with was…unexpected. There was a man sitting behind his computer. The room smelled like drugs. A mixture of multiple things you could not identify & did not even want to.

“Woah, you’re the Avengers.” he slurred his words. So he was drunk as well. “Hey, I’m supposed to kill you.” he pointed at your figure & instinctively, Steve stepped in front of you. Shielding your body with his.

“You sure that’s our guy?” Sam leaned closer to you & whispered. Your shoulders shrugged & you pointed over to the desk where a name tag was proudly displayed. Seemed like he was not the smartest guy if he used the same name for his account on that website. Your heartrate slowed down because you knew you were not in danger. Not right now. Steve approached the man, coming to a halt mere inches away from him. His hand balled into a fist & after one punch in the guy’s face, he was on the floor, unconscious.

“Huh.” you breathed out. “That was almost too easy.”

“Yeah, if we forget about the website where thousands of people assign offenders every single day.” Bucky was right, of course. You stumbled across something way bigger. Hopefully Tony had good news once you returned.

The police was called. They inspected the room & that guy really was everything but intelligent. He horded a file full of his assignments. He would not see the sunlight again, that much was sure. Steve & you waited outside, leaning on the hood of the car. Sam & Bucky were busy talking to the officers.

“Hey.” you started & nudged Steve with your elbow. “Is it appropriate to thank that asshole?”

“What for? For wanting to kill you?” he answered with furrowed eyebrows.

“No.” you chuckled. “But…if it were not for him, we wouldn’t have confessed.”

“There was a possibility that he was dangerous. Maybe we just caught him at a bad time.” Steve mumbled the last part.

“Let’s not worry about that, alright? I’m fine. See?” you gestured to your body, a big smile adorning your features.

“I know.” he nodded but it was obvious that he was still careful about this entire situation.

“I love you.” that seemed to do the job. His eyes met yours, his expression less tense & softer.

“I know that, too.” he smirked when you playfully slapped his chest.

“Steve, you ruined a very roman-“ his lips were on yours before you could finish your complaint. Steve was aware what he was doing, because he smiled into the kiss which caused you to giggle.

“I love you, too.” his lips still ghosted over yours. You could feel as his words left them. “Romantic enough?”

“I’m sure you can do better.” you pulled away & winked at him, moving away to join Sam & Bucky. Steve’s eyes followed your body & he shook his head at you. Yes, he did love you. A lot. And he was already planning how to make his next move even more romantic.

Published (05/18/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @zestyemby, @captainxholmes, @met4no1a, @bibliophilewednesday, @weareironmanbitches, @n3ssm0nique, @2bornot2b, @iaalien, @bibliophilewednesday (thanks for your support <3)

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heartmix · 3 years

Text

Girls' Night (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Word Count: 900+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of harming people

A/N: Every time I watch this episode I always picture what role I would play in the ending scene. This is short and barely any hotch x reader moments but it's there. Don't say I didn't warn you.

masterlist \ criminal minds masterlist

Getting free time with this job was a wonder. It came with working throughout all of the states, working during different time zones and well different cases that start to look the same. Carving out a time to just go out and have fun was something that needed to be planned in advance to get everyone prepared. Well of course this team can never plan anything right.

"I can't find a babysitter." JJ stressed as she sat next to us getting off of what I assumed to be her last attempt at finding a babysitter.

"And I need to be at hotch's place by 5. Might just sleepover if anything." You sighed already missing the amazing girl's night you were about to have.

"Oh come on you too?" Emily groaned.

"I can't help it. I already told him I could."

"Oh those Hotchner men, you can't say no to them." Emily teased making you blush, it was true.

"Why what did you guys have planned." Rossi asked seeming interested in the conversation.

"Girls night. Pen booked Salsa lessons and the bar is having fiesta night. Planned it for a while now." I sighed seeing Spencer join us now.

"I can pick up Jack." Rossi offered.

"I can babysit Henry." Spencer piped in making us all raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, Rossi I can't let you wake up that early." You tried even though you were very close to letting him win, if he wanted to you weren't going to put up a fight. Both you and Hotch saw him as a father figure, it isn't his first rodeo watching Jack, often doing it so you and Hotch could have date nights.

"Spence you haven't babysat alone before." JJ seemed hesitant even though it looked like it wouldn't take much convincing to get her to cave in.

"Yeah you can and you will. Go have fun tonight." Rossi nudged your shoulder with a smile.

"Oh come on. I can handle it." Spencer defended himself which earned you a chuckle.

"You know, I think Spence will be fine on his own and Rossi wakes up early anyways being older and all." Emily persuaded me and JJ as we both shrugged and gave in. We needed the girls' night out.

"Watch it." Rossi warned making all of us chuckle.

Maybe you should have just been a good girlfriend and just stayed in to watch Jack. Why did Rossi and Emily make you go out last night, it was all a mistake. You were regretting every decision ever since that plane ride, and it looked like all the girls were also. Clearly, none of you thought about waking up early to watch Hotch in his race and forgetting how much noise would come with it.

"Woo! Woo! Couple hours, couple hours, and you guys didn't come home until sunrise." Spencer taunted making you want to strangle him.

"Why are you yelling?"

"Make him stop."

"If I had my gun on me I would shoot everyone here." You mumbled as you heard Rossi and Derek chuckle somehow throughout all the noise that was happening.

"Calm down kiddo. We're almost out of here." Rossi reassured you wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"With my estimate, Hotch should be finishing any minute." Spencer added making you smile at the thought of the event being over and seeing your boyfriend of course.

"Y/n! Do you see daddy?" You heard Jack's excited voice come through all the noise, making you change your mood for the cheerful boy.

"I think I do Jacky! There he is! Cheer for daddy." You said cringing from your tone of voice and JJ did the same who was right by you.

All of you tried your best to cheer but a few claps and small smiles were all you were gonna get from the girls. It was the best we could do but it was worth it to see the man smile at us. He was probably smiling the most at Jack but it's still a win.

"Come on jack, let's go see your daddy!" Derek said running to Hotch with Jack on his shoulders.

"You did it!" The smaller Hotchner excitedly said once he reached his dad who was all smiles seeing the little boy.

"Yup, I did it, buddy, can you believe it! This is for you." Hotch said putting the medal around Jack's neck.

"Did you see my sign?"

"I did! It looks fantastic." The older man praised trying to regain his breath.

"Look at you, how do you feel?" Rossi piped up.

"I think I'm gonna live."

One by one everyone on the team complemented the man as they should, he has been working hard to train for the marathon. A few jabs came from Emily but nothing new, it earned a chuckle from you. As everyone said their praises and the last person to speak was you which everyone was waiting for.

"Why do you look worse than me." Hotch beat you to it making his way over to you wrapping you in his arms not caring about the sweat. That was the least of your problems right now.

"I could take you right now don't be fooled, agent." I mumbled causing everyone to laugh.

"Okay okay, I believe you."

"Anyone wants to go get something to eat?" Spencer asked making everyone agree.

"Yeah and hopefully that will help me get this tequila out of my system." You mumbled as Hotch took you in one last time to place a kiss on your head before grabbing Jack with his other arm making our way away from this hell hole.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #fluff #fic #imagines

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner / Tell Me to Stop

Request: "The heater broke and I’m freezing get over here" + "The Classic™: The hotel only has a king sized bed, I guess we’re sharing."

Word Count: 5,188

Warnings: Fluff, angst, some violence (its criminal minds, what do you expect), me having way too much fun with one of my fav tropes

“Sorry you got stuck with the short end of the stick,” Hotch intones, the two of you carrying your go-bags into the small motel you were now stranded in. The team had flown down to this small town in the middle of nowhere – with one hotel in the nearby vicinity. Unfortunately, being the only hotel did not mean superior technology - they had double booked two rooms. Which meant, two members had to be put up at a nearby motel – and lucky you, you both had drawn the short straws.

“Short end?” you smile up at Hotch, who looks as unruffled as ever, “Did you see the first hotel?” He snorts in reply, “Pretty sure I saw fifteen health code violations walking past the threshold.”

“And this is any better?” you shrug, looking around – it was a small motel: rundown, not well lit (you wondered if that for the more discreet clientele or because they couldn’t be bothered to change the lightbulbs out), and even the bell Hotch dinged at the counter was all but rusted over completely.

“Well, it’s not the outdoors in the middle of winter. So, I’ll take it,” his lips quirked upwards, and you couldn’t help but stare a moment – his smiles were few and far between these days, especially after Haley. Any smile you could pry from him was something you cherished, even though you would never admit it.

“Room for two?” you jumped, not noticing the woman who appeared at the counter now. Her sleeves of her flannel shirt were rolled up, despite the cold, and her straw like hair framed her face, grinning too widely at the two of you.

Hotch seemed unfazed, “Two rooms actually. We were sent over here by the Creswell Hotel in town. They said you would accommodate us.”

“Yes, yes,” she flipped through some charts, “Unfortunately one of the rooms we had for you was just taken.”

“You booked the room you were holding for us?” you repeated, and she looked up from her list, tilting her head.

“Did you expect me to hold it forever, my dear?”

You stared, voice rising with every word, “It’s only been twenty minutes since we left-”

“We’ll take the one room, thank you,” Hotch interjected, taking the key from the woman, and steering you away from the counter, “Sorry, I just didn’t want our other room to magically get booked.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you shook your head, “sorry. I just can’t believe her. This is ridiculous.”

“Better than sleeping outside right?” you rolled your eyes at that, as the woman waved you over to your room. And that’s when it dawned on you.

You were going to be sharing a room with Hotch. She unlocked the room for you, handing Hotch the key, before flicking on the light.

Both your eyes fell on the bed. Bed. Singular.

There was one bed.

~~~

The conversation with the manager went as well as the first one did. There was nothing she could do. Of course, you thought, staring into your go-bag, of course you would end up sharing a hotel room with your boss.

“Do you mind if I shower first?” your head snapped up, and you shook your head, “Look, I know this is…uncomfortable, but it’s just a few nights. Obviously I’ll take the floor-”

“Hotch, I can take the floor-”

He shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his lips, “You take the bed,” and he adds, “that’s an order.”

“Also,” you call after him, “can we not tell the team about our…living arrangement?”

He quirks a brow, throwing his towel over his shoulder, “Morgan and Garcia don’t need to know about this.”

“Thank you,” he closes the door behind him, and after a minute or two, you hear the shower start to run. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your teeth bared down on your lip, remembering how much Garcia had teased you as you waited for the cab to take you to the motel.

“Come on, Y/N, we all know that you and Hotch-”

“Are co-workers, nothing more,” you hissed, pulling her aside, “There’s nothing between us. We’re just friends-”

“Friends who spend late nights at the office? Friends who stare at each other far too often? Come on, Y/N, you have worked here less time than most of the team and you have spent more weekends with him and Jack then the rest of us.”

“I-“ You sighed, holding your head, “I don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for Penelope,”

She put her hands on her hips, “How is he supposed to know what he’s ready for when he doesn’t even know you’re an option?”

Her words continued to ring in your ears. You walked the length of the room – which was about 6 strides before you had to turn back around again. Your boss was currently showering, one door separating the two of you. Heat burned a trail down your cheeks, warming your neck.

Screw showering. You needed to go to sleep. You had to do something other than think about the words burning on your chest, ready to spring from your lips. The windows rattled, and you shivered, rubbing your sides as you knelt besides the radiator. Your fingers grazed the metal – it was barely warm. You turned the knobs, trying to get the heat going, until –

“What are you doing?” You jumped, the knob coming off in your hand.

Shit.

Your shower lasted far too long – but it was needed to wash away the sense of dread you felt. Unfortunately, as you turned the water off and stepped out, it was immediately replaced by nerves. You pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. You had opted not to wash your hair, knowing your odds of drying your hair would be slim to none, and you would rather not add a hospital trip to top off this wonderful night. You paused before the door, heaving a heavy sigh, before opening it.

You found Hotch not sleeping, but toying with the radiator, “You didn’t tell me you went to radiator repair school in between law school and the FBI.”

He shook his head, sighing, “I didn’t, but I’m starting to wonder if that would have more useful than my law degree.”

You shivered again, and it wasn’t just the shower – it had gotten colder in here and it would only get colder throughout the night. You glanced at the barebones set up that Hotch was going to calling a bed tonight, and back at him.

You caught his eye and he cut you off, “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Y/N,”

“Hotch-”

“It’s just one night, I can-”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that I sleep on the floor,” your cheeks burned, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I was going to say we both sleep on the bed.” He opened and closed his mouth, jaw set as he seemed to consider it, “We’re both adults. We’re friends.”

You sat on the bed, arms crossed, and he tilted his head, “And you’re fine with this?”

You gave a soft chuckle, “I suggested it, so yes.”

He sighed, “But-“

“Hotch,” you pulled yourself under the covers, “Get over here, it’s freezing.”

You tried to pay no mind as he slid into bed beside you, ever so careful – like everything he did. You noticed his hair was still damp from his shower, the smell of his shampoo strong – was it mint?

You shook yourself from these thoughts, turning from him to face the edge of the bed, “Good night.”

“Good night.”

You thought the end of it, but it wasn’t.

You couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how much you intimidated the act. Eyes closed, breaths even, snuggled in the corner of the bed, and yet…the Sandman denied you. You needed to sleep, at least for a few hours for tomorrow. A lack of sleep led to mistakes which could led to a life lost. And yet, you knew every second that passed as you thought about this was another second you weren’t sleeping. And finally, you narrowed the problem down to two things – one, your boss sleeping next to you and the fact you fell asleep sleeping the other way, which would entail facing him.

You couldn’t tell if Hotch was sleeping. He hadn’t moved much since he settled in. Was he pretending like you? The windows rattled again and a cold breeze made its way through the thin glass, and through your thin blanket.

Fuck it. It was cold and you were tired. You turned around, eyes still very much shut, but curiosity pulled at your eyelids to just peek.

But you didn’t have to.

“Still awake?” your eyes opened to find a pair of brown ones staring back at you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “despite my best efforts.”

“Is something on your mind?”

“Not really,” besides not being able to sleep with you lying beside me, “How about you?”

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time with you, and I still can’t figure out if you’re lying or not,” his brow raised, you bit back a smile, “You can’t always brush aside your own thoughts.”

“I can try,” you relent when he frowns, “Hotch, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? I’ve told you things I haven’t told anyone,” he admits, “things about Jack, about Haley. I want to be that for you too.” You stay silent, eyes staring at his pillow rather than him, “Unless you don’t trust me?”

“I do,” you sit up, allowing the blanket to bunch by your legs, and he follows suit, leaning on one hand. “Too much. That’s the problem.”

You lift your eyes to his, and you find him staring, his gaze heavy with the same emotions – fear, hesitance, and something else – something warmer.

Would it be so bad? You thought, would it be so bad to give yourself the one thing, the one person would’ve wanted so long, and allow yourself to have it? He dared closer, his breath against your lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, and I’ll sleep on the floor, and I’ll never try this again,” he whispers, so quietly, and it breaks your heart. It exudes of the hesitance, the desire, the brushes neither of you spoke of, the lingering looks, the simple domestic routine the two you adopted without a second glance, and the fear – the fear you would both lose it all.

“Don’t,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his again. And you are enamored – in how he feels so soft against your lips, in the warmth of his hand cupping your face, and the quiet whisper of your name on his lips when you part for a breath, “Hotch- Aaron, I-”

He draws away to look at you, and you shake your hand, fingers at the back of his head, carding through his hair, “I’ve just wanted this for so long,”

“I have too,” he admits, teeth brushing against his bottom lip, “I just never-”

“Wanted to hurt you,” you finish with a small laugh, “Garcia was right, we are both idiots.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead, “At least we learned,” you lean up to catch his lips in another kiss, and he returns it – his hands daring lower now, as you lean back into the plush of the bed. His lips leave yours, trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, “and I’ll never make the same mistake again.”

Your eyes open at the sound of your phone ringing, and you almost believe your in your own bed, until you feel someone shift beside you, and you hear his voice, “Hotchner,”

So, it wasn’t your phone. You blink sleep away from your eyes, and see him sitting in the bed beside you, “We’ll be right there.”

His forehead furrowed, and eyes dark, though his gaze softens when he sees you staring, “We have to go. They found another body.”

You sit up, pressing a small kiss to his lips, rolling your thumb to smooth his creased brow, “Let’s go.”

But he stops you, “About last night,” and your heart tightens at his expression, was it over that quickly? “I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done around you, so I’m going to have you work with Reid and help him nail down the geographic profile.”

Your worry dissipates, and your frown quickly grows into a grin, “Think I’ll be a distraction?” You sit up on your knees, attempting your best doe-eyed expression, and he smiles.

“You already were,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “it’s just for now. While we both get used to it.”

You drape your hands around his shoulders, pressing your foreheads together, “I know, and you better get used to it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~

You were working with Reid to put together a geographic profile, staring at the map pinned to the board in front of you. Reid had placed markers on the various places that the bodies had been discovered, along with abduction sites, looking for some sort of comfortable radius. Your brow scrunched in thought, you didn’t notice Garcia until she tapped your shoulder.

“Penelope, did you find something to help-”

“No, no, but they had to reset the internet in this place for the fiftieth time because this place doesn’t know Google Fiber from the fiber they eat at breakfast,” she waved you off, her painted lips curled in a mischievous grin as she pulled you aside not so subtly, asking much too loud, “How did it go last night?”

You were luckily expecting to be grilled by her, either sometime during this trip or on the plane ride back, “Nothing happened last night because we’re professionals on a case,” you rolled your eyes, “and because we’re just friends.” You added.

“Come on, I know something must have happened – Hotch always works with you in the field on these types of cases, and suddenly, you’re with Reid?” Reid looks up from the board, slightly affronted, “No offense baby boy.”

“Garcia, please,” you sighed, checking your phone, “The Wi-Fi’s back on, you should get back to work.” She protests, but you shake your head, “Unless you want me to tell the boss?”

She pouts, but relents, “I will get you to tell me what happened last night. Mark my words.”

You sigh, shutting the door behind her, turning back to the board, when you feel Reid look, “Got something to say?”

“It’s just interesting,”

You look over, and he bites his lip, “What is?”

“That you said you were professionals and then added you were friends,” Reid says, flipping through a case file, “almost like being friends was an afterthought, or that you’re something more. I just figured something out about the case.”

Your mouth hangs open as he puts the phone on speaker, and you hear Hotch’s voice ring out, “What did you find?”

Your head snaps up as you look from Reid to the phone, “He’s stalking the women in a pattern – it seems random, but when you-”

“Spence,” you cut him off gently, “I trust you, but where is he going to hit next?”

Reid’s eyes fly over the map, “The north end, the area that his second victim was taken.”

You hear Hotch give orders out to the local police and agents, “Both of you stay at the precinct and help Rossi deliver the profile.”

Rossi arrived shortly after, “We are looking for a man in his late 30s to early 40s,”

“A veteran, a man who’s seen the horrors of war and has remained untreated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Reid continued to the on-looking officers, who stood with either their brows furrowed or furiously scribbling notes, “This may be because of lack of access to resources from the V.A. or a refusal of treatment.”

“He is suffering from a psychotic break,” you intoned, pointing to the map and the scattered points concentrated in a southern part of the map, “he’s seeking his victims out in these areas that he is familiar with. We believed at first it was because he grew up in the area, but we no longer think that’s the case—”

“Why?” a man you recognized as a lieutenant pipe up, his stern face looking thoroughly unimpressed, his arms crossed, and eyebrows raised. He was just looking for an opportunity to undermine you, wasn’t he?

“Because,” you kept your tone carefully even, the last thing you needed to garner animosity amongst all these officers – the team was only there by there by their good graces, “someone who grew up in the area wouldn’t have ventured into this territory-“ you pointed to a section of woods to the west, “where bears often hibernate.”

He said nothing, and Rossi then continued, finishing up the profile, “We advise being cautious around this man, he is overwhelmed by his delusions and is extremely dangerous.”

“Unless it’s one of you?” the Lieutenant scoffed, muttering under his breath, “you just want the credit—”

“It isn’t about credit,” you snapped, “we are trying to stop a man from hurting more innocent people. The exact reason why we are all here, Lieutenant. Or did you forget?”

His face turned several shades of both red and purple, lips twisted in an ugly scowl that made his eyes bug out, and he stomped away towards his captain’s office. The sergeant cleared his throat, “Dismissed, get to work,” he crossed the bullpen as the chatter resumed, flashing you an apologetic look.

“You didn’t need to add the ‘did you forget?’” Rossi sighed, shaking his head.

“It was a reasonable question,” Reid started, before Rossi cut him off with a look.

“You’re going to have to talk to Hotch about this,” Rossi glanced at the lieutenant and captain barely visible through the captain’s parted blinds, “Or they will.”

“You what?” It had been a few hours, and still, the team had come up with nothing. Every time they got close, the unsub seemed to slip away – and now he knew the police were closing in on him. And now, he had resorted to guerilla tactics to hide out. The team’s only chance to catch him is when he will resurface for another target.

But that wasn’t your most pressing concern at the moment.

Instead it was your boss, standing on the other side of the bed, arms crossed, and brow thoroughly furrowed – though now you appreciated how much the suit did for the intimidation factor, because Hotch glaring at you in a t-shirt and boxers as opposed to his suit? Very much not the same thing. Although…difficult in other ways.

“I snapped at the lieutenant during the profile,” you keep eye contact with him, despite the growing need to look away from the mix of both anger and disappointment in his gaze, “we’re here to catch a murderer, and he was acting like it was-“

“A turf war? That’s because it is,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his brow, “You know we are only allowed to come to these places—”

“Yes, on good graces of these cops-” You scoff.

“They are officers,” he corrected you, his voice tight, “This is their community. I understand it’s frustrating to be undermined, but—”

“No, you wouldn’t understand,” you said quietly, a quiet chuckle lodged in the back of your throat.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You turn away, holding your head, the ghost of a pressing headache on the horizon, “I’m a woman, I’m periodically underestimated just by my very existence – just by how I choose to define my gender and how society deems to view me. You, on the other hand, are an older white man – you can only fail up,” his lips were a tight frown, “So yes, I told that man the focus of our job is to catch bad guys because it was the truth.”

“It is,” Hotch said slowly, rounding the bed, hands raised, “But it’s not for us. Our job is to help them do their job, and we can’t do that if they stop calling us.”

“I know,” you cross your arms, “I know, I just—”

“Just what?” his arm slowly wraps around you, “what’s bothering you?”

Your fingers brush against his cheek, tracing his jaw, “This,” your fingers run across his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pads of them, “This will just be another reason for other people to underestimate me. Another reason to pass me over for a promotion. Another reason to—"

“I understand if you don’t want to do this,” he swallows, “I always did. I never want to hurt you or your career.”

“I know,” your lips press against his, “and that’s what makes it harder. Even though we shouldn’t,” another kiss, this time against his pulse point, “even though it’s probably wrong,” your lips grow more insistent now, his hands snaking lower and lower, “even though this is risking both our careers.”

And you pause, pressing your forehead to his, “But we shouldn’t,” his hands fell away, and you shook your head, the absence of his warmth making you shiver.

“We shouldn’t.”

He slept on the floor. It was somehow harder to sleep without him than it was with him. Probably because you knew what it felt like to sleep beside him. You hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring at his back as he quietly slept, wondering how you had come so close and gone so far in such a short amount of time.

It made your head spin. How could things change so quickly?

But anything could change – even in a single moment.

And it did.

~~~~

“We should pull her out,” Hotch watched your cam, as you hiked up the trail that yoy, Garcia, and Reid had pinpointed as one of two trails he could be hunting at, “she’s gone too far.”

“She can handle herself, Hotch,” Morgan intoned, arms crossed, “she’s got this.”

He kept his face in a careful mask, his mind was caught in a carefully concocted storm, and he could barely keep the walls up, “Ten more minutes,” he finally said. And it wasn’t a question – but an order.

But ten more minutes was all he needed.

Out of nowhere, he had you on the ground, knocked over the head – dragging you to where he kept his victims – including the one he still had. He kept each of his victims for shorter and shorter amounts of times. But he always got rid of them in the same way – he would grab another before he disposed of the other.

“Go, now,” Hotch said, before grabbing a vest, “And I’m coming too.”

~~~

You groaned; a soft noise pulled from the back of your throat. Damn bastard got the jump on you – although that was the point. Were you dead? But the ringing of your ears and the distinct screaming ache in your head told you that you most assuredly were not – death wouldn’t hurt this much.

“Are you okay?” a small voice asked, and you blinked, eyelids feeling heavier than the sky carried by Atlas, a titan with the weight of the world on his back – how wholly ironic, that’s how you always felt. And your shoulders ached just like his must have, but – the chains clanged above you – his pain wasn’t from being chained to a wall. “Hey, are you okay?”

Finally, your vision relented a few degrees of blurriness, allowing you to lift and turn your head – a woman chained the same way you were presumably – arms strung up high, joined by two cuffs looped around a chain that was hammered into a rocky wall of a cave.

“Yeah,” your head disagreed, screeching with every thought you had, “well not great,” your eyes squint in the darkness, looking for dancing shadows in the pitch black, “he isn’t…here is he?”

“No, you’ll know when he’s here – the smallest noise makes an echo,” she says, and she’s right – you can hear the tiniest of waterdrops plink against the stalagmites, “I think he’s going to kill me when he comes back.”

Her voice is raw, the terror quavering in her words, and you wonder – what he had done to her? Each victim had been tortured in different ways from the military – somewhere waterboarded, others were cut and bleed, others were beaten. Whatever it was – she spent the majority of the time screaming.

“It’s going to be okay,” you grit your teeth, trying to strain against the restraints, “my team is on their way, I’m an FBI agent.”

There’s a growl that emanates from the darkness, and then a roar, “WHO SENT YOU?”

The unsub charges forward, wild eyed and bleary, holding a shotgun to your neck, as the victim sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He made me-“

“SHUT UP,” he ripped apart your clothes until he found the camera and your GPS tracker, crushing it under his boot, “Now,” he pressed the barrel to your chin, “Who. Sent. You?”

~~~~

I took you for granted. That’s the first and only thought he has when he hears a gunshot ring out in the bowels of the cave, echoing with the hideous squelch of blood. A scream rings out, along with the sound of sobbing, following the shot with disturbing synchrony – a symphony of his worst nightmares.

He doesn’t remember much. He remembers running, the sounds of Morgan and JJ yelling for him, and small whimpers that sounded against the rocky crags. And he found you – covered in blood, the scarlet dripping running down your arms and a splash across your face. The unsub was on the ground, unconscious, in a pool of his own blood, as the woman beside you cried.

Morgan and JJ undid her restraints, while Hotch checked you over, his hands patting the length of your body for injuries, “Are you okay? What—” Your clothes were ripped up, the blood dripping across your chest. He pulls off his windbreaker and drapes it over your shoulders.

“He found out I was an agent, but he thought I was a Russian agent,” you shook your head, “he thinks he’s a soldier in the cold war. He had us chained to the wall. He was going to shoot me, but I managed to convince him that I was part of the same covert unit he believed he was in. He undid my chain and that’s when I went for his gun. He fired it and it caught him by the shoulder. He fell over from the recoil and knocked himself out.”

He frowned at the blood, that covered your body, “Then what—”

“Pig’s blood,” you wrinkled your nose, “He was going to cover me in it and then—” you cut yourself off, “either way, I’m okay.”

“I—” he cuts off, when Morgan and JJ call you guys out, “we’ll talk after.”

He watches you as the paramedic does a basic check-up, “Have you told her how you feel?”

He blinks, looking over to see Dave with a raised brow, “Yes, I have,”

Dave breaks out in a grin, “It’s about time—”

“We decided we shouldn’t be together, Dave,” he shakes his head.

“Aaron—”

“What will people say?” Hotch cuts him off, “about her? What will happen to her career—”

“You can’t control everything, Aaron. Neither of you will know what will happen if you date, but both of you know what will happen if you don’t—” Hotch tilts his head, as Dave sighs, holding forehead, “You’ll both be miserable. You make each other happy. She makes Jack happy. You don’t get that very often in life, Aaron. Take it when you get it.”

Dave nods, before walking towards the car, and Hotch takes one last look at you, wrapping up with the paramedic, before following him.

He knew what he had to do.

~~~

As you step off the plane and make your way into the office, you shake the events of the day off, “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Morgan squeezes you in a one armed hug, before Garcia crushes you in a full one, “whoa, whoa baby girl, easy, she just got patched up and now you’re already trying to break her in two.”

“I was just so worried,” Garcia stepped back, “are you sure you’re gonna be okay getting home?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” She squeezes your hand one last time.

“Call me if you need anything,” she says, walking towards the elevator door with Morgan, Reid, and JJ.

“You know it’s actually possible to split someone in two with just human sheer force?” you hear Reid say before the doors close.

“Reid, I didn’t need you to tell me that,”

You finish grabbing your stuff, heading towards the elevators, when Hotch calls your name, “Can I see you in my office for a second?”

You nod, following him to his office, heart in your throat.

He shuts the door behind you, and he just stares.

You tilt your head, shifting in place, unsure whether to sit or not, “Are you okay?”

He shakes himself from his stupor, “I should be asking you that,” he takes careful steps towards you, “I almost lost you today, I—”

“Aaron, you didn’t lose me,” you hold yourself back, from finding his hand, from cradling his cheek against your palm, instead keeping your arms crossed against your chest, “you could never lose me.”

“I already did,” he breathes, and instead his hand found your cheek, and his hand found your fingers, pulling them from your chest, “when I didn’t fight for us.”

“Aaron—”

“Tell me to stop,” Hotch tells you, fingers brushing gently over the curve of your face, “tell me to stop loving you, but I can’t. I’ve tried. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Our jobs—”

“We can talk to Strauss, together, we can figure this out. After almost losing you – something happened to you and we never—” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “You are taking a bigger risk than I am I know, I know you are,” his voice is strangled, “and I never want to pressure you into something you don’t want, but I’m telling you where I stand.”

“Aaron,”

“You don’t have to respond,” and you smile, fingers intertwined with his.

“Oh, but I have to,” and you press your lips to his, “because I love you, and I never want to lose you.”

He kisses you then, arms wrapping around your waist, as one of yours found purchase on his shoulder, the other fisted in his hair. His chuckle rumbles against your lips, “Sorry you got stuck with the short end of the stick,”

You laugh, shaking your head, “It’s never the short end if I’m with you.”

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snwscript · 3 years

Text

pivot point || hyunjin.

pairing: guard!hyunjin x princess!reader.

genre: historic au, strangers to lovers au.

themes: fluff + a bit of angst i guess??

word count: 7.6k

summary: when the task of picking the newest royal guard comes to you, the princess, it isn’t difficult to choose. one applicant, with charming looks and an interesting hobby, catches your eye and attention. maybe he might find himself shooting arrows into something other than targets?

tw: this contains a female lead, and terms such as princess. also, some things might not be fully accurate to how things worked in historical times, but i really tried to research as much as I could.

a/n: i miss him w blonde hair but whateva it’s fine (〃ノ∇ノ) also prince minho is not minho from skz !!!! oh and if a word is underlined, it’s a song you can listen to to feel more in the fic :]

masterlist.

As you were the princess of one of the most well-know palaces, a lot of weight was put on your shoulders. The thought of being next in line to the throne, along with the absolutely tiring schoolwork and boring schedules always filled your head as you waited for the next day to roll around.

It sometimes felt like you were forced into that life. But your head always perked up when you were asked first about a decision.

“Y/N, darling.” Your mother called your name as she sat at the dinner table.

“Yes Mother?” Making your way to the dining room from the living room, you rested your arms on the chair in front of your mom. You looked at her, eyebrows furrowing as you questioned her sudden ask of your presence.

She started with a sigh and you could tell she was stressed, her hand sparkling with accessories holding close to her head. Her eyes looked up from the papers in her other hand and to you. “Oh, there you are. I need your help with something.”

Your ears perked up as you looked away from her shining decorations and nodded. “Okay, what is it?” You leaned in to look at the paper that was in her hand. It had different names written on it, next to them were their skills.

But when did Mom get the time to do this?

“Well, we’re trying to get a new royal guard since one had to step out due to a finding of their criminal record, remember?” She queried, looking up at you from the paper.

Whipping away from your thoughts, you nodded. “Yeah, I do. But why so sudden? I’m pretty sure we don’t have to get a new guard.. we had enough already.” You said with a soft sigh. Your palace had originally had more than ten guards but due to the hardships the job gave, they had resigned. Now you only had five

“Y/N,” your mother stopped you, “we’ve talked about this. You know that your coronation is coming and when that day comes, you know how the crime rate will be.” There she goes again, talking about your coronation. “I would hate to have you suffer like your grandfather on his crowning.”

Her statement was blunt but it made sense to you. You made a small frown and nodded. “Yes Mother.” You took the papers out of her hand and made your way out of the dining room.

Your mom could tell you were upset about the conversation so in a small cheer she said, “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Your response short as you walked out of the dining room and back to your room.

On your way, your friendly chef Felix smiled at you, walking past saying, “Good morning, Your Highness.” You did a small head bow, but deeply wondered why he was being so formal. He wasn’t that much older than you, and he normally talked to you on friendly terms. Shaking the thought away, you continued back to your room.

But just like with Felix, whenever you would see one of the kind workers throughout the palace on the way to your room, they would always greet you with polite nonsense like: “Good day, Your Highness,” “Hello, Your Highness,” and “Wonderful weather we’re having, Your Highness!” It only broke you when you saw your older brother Seungmin reply, “Hey, Your Highness.” It was still in his joking tone but it was so chilling that you had to get out of there.

You ran out of the palace as a whole and decided to chill by the pool.

Sighing to yourself, you looked at the pool and tried to calm yourself. You were deeply confused why they had all responded like that. You weren’t even close to becoming the queen. You had thought it was all too much for you, like all of a sudden you were an adult. But it didn’t feel like it.

“What’s wrong, your Highness?” Chan said after seeing your distressed manner as you sat on the steps.

“Oh god, not you too Chan!” You buried your face in your hands.

He laughed heartily and soon went to sit down next to you. “Sorry, it was Seungmin. He asked me to say that to you since I was in debt to him for a while.” Looking over to you, Chan saw your sad expression.

He didn’t say anything for a while, his thoughts calculating as he thought of what to say to you. “You know, I probably have no say in this but the whole crowning doesn’t seem too bad.”

Your head whipped around to him. Confusion furrowing your eyebrows caused you to respond, “How can you say that? Everyone’s been treating me like I’m the Queen already..”

Chan laughed a bit, but not as happy as his last. It contained remorse for you. “Well I can tell you as a royal guard that they’re only doing this to get you ready for another year.” His statement softened to a whisper and covered his mouth near the more important end of his sentence.

Letting out a chuckle of unbelief, you crossed your arms. “How could they- Never mind that.” You stopped yourself before sighing and then looking at Chan. “Thanks for telling me, Chan. I swear, you’re one of the only guards I can trust.” You said jokingly, a soft smile making its way onto your lips.

A smile creeped up on his face too, showing his pure pleasure in seeing you smile again. “No problem, your Highness.” Chan finally said with a fake bow.

“Oh, stop it.” You slapped his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop embarrassing you any further.

Chan laughed again, his serotonin boosting laugh making you laugh with him. With another smile and a two-finger salute, he said, “Alright, duty calls. See you later, Y/N!” He dashed off and started to make his way back into the palace.

“Ok, bye!” But by the time you responded, he was already gone.

He had always been so good to you. Always doing his best to make you feel better. Still, he had no real idea what you truly felt.

...

After a while of laying on your bed while reading a book, you looked at your nightstand. Those terrible papers seemed to look right back at you. With a sigh, you decided to take the time to look at the papers your mother had given to you that morning.

The candidates were.. okay. Your mind was still frazzled from the day’s events and soon after 15 minutes of looking, you came to the last page. You had skimmed over his credentials but when you came across his hobbies, you found yourself leaning into the paper.

Hobbies: reading, singing, & archery.

A-Archery? Were you reading it right? No matter how many times you read it, it still read the same thing. You had heard about it before, when your mother and father had left to go to a match with friends from another kingdom. It had always made you wonder what it was like, and seeing a candidate with that as a hobby made you feel inclined to approve his submission.

No photos or further reading needed, you put a check next to his name and went to put it in your parents’ room.

On your way back to yours, you were stopped by Seungmin. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and his right leg crossed over the other. You shrugged, wordlessly saying, “What do you want?”

“Was that the guard slip?” He soon asked, a chuckle coming with the end of his question.

With a nod you replied, “Yep. Hopefully Mom doesn’t scold me for who I chose.” You continued to walk to bed with the words, “It was the archer, by the way,” leaving your lips. You had known Seungmin had seen the papers before they were given to you, so of course he had asked.

Seungmin’s small giggle turned into a happy laugh, but you couldn’t tell what for. A wave of relief came upon you as he called, “You’re so predictable. I knew you’d pick that one!”

You walked to your room that night to your older brother’s laughs echoing in the main hall.

It had been about two weeks since you had made the final mark on those papers but fortunately, your mother hadn’t said anything about it. Today was the day you were going to greet what seemed in your mind as the kind archer fellow. You were somewhat nervous, for reasons you knew.

As you got ready in your room to finally meet the archer, a soft sigh escaped you. Was it the right choice? Sure, knowing how to do archery was unique but you barely looked at any more of his credentials, so it made it hard to truly know him. You chose to shake the thought off for now and make your way to the front of the palace.

...

“I can’t wait to see who you chose!” Your mother said with happiness in her tone, hands clasped in excitement. She looked over to you, and was concerned as to why you were so quiet. “Something the matter?” She asked.

Your single head shake was enough for a response and your eyes kept looking out for the carriage the guard would come in. If you had to be honest, you just wanted to see what this guy looked like.

And just as you would have it, the clopping of the carriage came along the cobblestone. You felt your heart race as you heard the gates open for his arrival. And there he was, walking up to your family politely with his hands behind his back.

His appearance though, was much more ethereal. Eyes of a dark brown color and long hair that you didn’t see often, all while wearing a soft smile. His clothes were both sleek and looked comfortable. You could tell you were staring for too long so you decided to get your eyes off him with a small head bow. In response, he did the same.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope I can serve you well.” He said, his soft voice causing you to look up with a kind smile.

Your father held out a hand for the boy to shake and replied, “Of course. We’re happy to have you..?” His reply became more of a prompt for his name.

“Ah, Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.” He replied happily as he took your father’s hand and shook it. His soft smile had become an eager one, as if he was really excited for his new job. The boy who was apparently named Hyunjin looked from your father to you and did a small head bow to you. “Nice to meet you, Princess. Hopefully we can be friends.” His expression softened. “And hopefully I can serve you well.” He continued, his eyes crinkling as his smile widened.

“Of course, same to you.” You replied, voice soft after being out of focus. From the start, you knew that he was kind but the fact he even acknowledged you kindly made you smile.

Your mother broke up your kind exchange by cutting in, “Well now that introductions are over, we can get you inside and talk a bit more. It’s a bit humid out here.” A posh laugh came with her statement as Hyunjin mouthed “Of course” and you all went into the palace.

After two of your other guards opened the palaces’ doors, you could hear a gasp come from Hyunjin. He soon exclaimed, “Wow.. this place is huge..,” voice drifting at the end of his sentence. He seemed like an excited puppy, eager to look more around the place. To get his attention, you let out in a small whisper, “Excuse me, it’s this way!”

He turned around and covered his mouth, obviously embarrassed. “Sorry!” His voice low in a whisper to match yours.

You and Hyunjin soon caught up with your family in the drawing room, both acting like you had been there instead of staying behind in the great hall. Almost on queue, your father turned to you with a smile. “Ah yes, now that we’re here, we can talk more on the agreement.” Your father’s tone was soft but still had the power of a king.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Hyunjin said, eyes burning with confidence.

Your mother smiled. “Then let’s get to it!” She said, taking out some more papers, probably for him to sign.

...

Though it took what felt like a few hours, Hyunjin was ready to take the oath. What you noticed during the long talk and signing was that he was very active. Your mom mumbled a few things he had done to get to where he was now, including training for a year and a half at a camp. It seemed like he desperately wanted to get away from his normal life and land a better job at the palace, though it was harder than most. It made you wonder..

Your thoughts were taken to a pause as your father said, “Alright, now that you’re done signing, you can take the oath.”

Hyunjin nodded as his smiling face was replaced with a serious one. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his left closed in a tight fist. It soon loosened as he rose his right hand like your father told him to not long after.

“Repeat after me,” your father said firmly, his right hand raised as well, “I, Hwang Hyunjin, do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to the Royal Family, their heirs and successors, according to law.”

He soon repeated before taking a deep breath, “I, Hwang Hyunjin, do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to the Royal Family, their heirs and successors, according to law.” His hard expression soon softened when he earned an accepting nod from the king.

“And now, you’re officially a part of the royal guard.” Your father cheered, a raised curve you knew was a smile coming to his face. Though he didn’t show it much, you could always tell the difference between his capitalist smile and his genuine one. Hyunjin seemed to know too, as he brought him in for a hug.

“Wow, thank you so much for this opportunity!” He let go and then shook the king’s hand. “I promise I won’t let you down.” He said in a voice filled with gratitude. The king let out a hearty laugh at Hyunjin’s peppy attitude and nodded.

“Happy to know you’re excited.” He soon said. Your mother’s mouth turned into a smile, soon turning to you with a brighter one. The pleasant feeling in the room made you smile back.

Hyunjin looked to you and remarked with an assuring smile, “I’ll protect you for real, now.” His statement made you burst laughing, still more calm than your normal laugh as to not expose yourself. “I know you’ll do well, Hyunjin.” You replied.

“Thank you, princess.”

You woke up the next morning to the sun coming through the window. Surprisingly, none of the maids or butlers was there to escort you out of your room. Making your way down the stairs and then the long hallway, you started to make your way to the kitchen to start to make breakfast yourself.

You usually weren’t allowed to when your parents weren’t around because they entrusted the chefs to cook every meal. Though you didn’t mind them cooking for you, you always like to cook by yourself. Unfortunately, the kind chef Felix walked in as you took out some flour.

“Ah, your Highness.” He did a small head bow with his bright smile. His formal behavior made you a bit uncomfortable. “Good morning.”

You still mustered a smile. “Good morning, Felix. It’s good to see you.” Your statement was true despite you knowing he would be making breakfast for you.

“Y/N, don’t worry. I’ll let you make breakfast for yourself. You always look so eager when you see me cooking anyway.” Felix let out in a chuckle. His laughter brought a happier smile to your face.

“Thank you, Felix.” You replied while bringing him in for a hug. He happily hugged you back, his warm hug made you smile.

You decide to ask him, “Hey, why do you keep calling me “Your Highness”? Have we drifted?” Your tone was soft, and Felix responded with a shaking of his head.

“No, of course not Y/N! It’s just.. the king and queen have been wanting to prepare you for the life you’re going to have in a couple years. So I’ve been listening to their wishes. But don’t worry,” Felix let go of you and held you by your shoulders, looking at you with caring eyes, “we’re still friends.” His bright smile reached his eyes.

“Well that’s good! I got a little worried.” You replied with a laugh.

After clearing up the situation, you started to make your breakfast, every now and then having Felix help you. Who would’ve known that making french toast and fluffy eggs would be harder than you thought?

...

The happy feeling you had soon drifted with your parents came back home. You had prepared yourself for this, but you really hadn’t wanted to.

As they walked in, they appeared with your “destined prince,” as your mom called him when you were a kid. You made eye contact with him immediately as a rush of a hurt came through you.

Prince Minho of the Cha family, the future husband of your dreams. (but was he?)

It wasn’t like you hated Minho, he was fine. Charming looks, a great personality. He even loved animals and had 2 dogs of his own. You just weren’t ready yet. But though you wanted to, you couldn’t tell him. If you had known sooner that the marriage decision had been made when you were kids, you would’ve declined already.

Minho walked up to you with a soft smile. “My darling Y/N. I haven’t seen you in ages.” You smiled shyly at his pet name. “You still look as cute as ever.” His eyes stared into yours longingly.

“It’s good to see you too, Minho.” You took his hands and nodded. Still, you couldn’t shake the sorry feeling in your chest. It felt like you were playing with him.

Your mother interrupted your soft exchange with a clearing of her throat. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get moving to the ballroom. You two,” she said pointing at you and Minho, “need to practice dancing together.”

Minho smiled at your parents and then at you. “Don’t worry. I won’t step on your feet.” You chuckled at his joke and made your way to the ballroom.

...

When you got there, you saw Hyunjin from the other side of the ballroom standing against the wall with his hands behind his back. He smiled to you as a soft greeting and you smiled back as a reply.

“Hyunjin,” your mother called to him, “do you mind turning on the gramophone and putting on the record for me?”

The smiling guard nodded, “Of course, your Highness.” He walked over to the gramophone that was on the coffee table and put in the record. After glancing at you and Minho for a second, he went back to the wall he was at before.

The music from the gramophone was somber, a soft piano piece. You had heard it many times when you were younger. It brought back memories and a soft smile to your face.

You slowly waltzed with Minho, hands interlocked. Minho kept eye contact with you, his eyes sparkling happily. You traveled along the room with him, careful with each step as the music flowed. The song came to an end as Minho took your hand and kissed it.

“You danced wonderfully, Y/N.” He said with a soft tone.

Your smile toward Minho was sincere, you nodded happily. “Thank you, Minho. You didn’t do half bad either.” You joked.

He let out a little chuckle and linked arms with you. Making eye contact with your mother, he asked, “Do you mind if I have lunch with her, my lady?”

“No, of course not,” she shook her head with a smile, “I don’t mind at all. We wanted you to have lunch together, anyways.”

“Thank you.” Minho looked at you once again and started to walk out of the ballroom.

You looked back to Hyunjin who stood there with a smile you couldn’t quite place. You gave him a quick beam, making him nod to cheer you up. Before you could mouth “thank you”, Minho walked out of the door with his princely smile and you.

“I don’t get you sometimes.” Seungmin shook his head at you, arms crossed.

“What do you mean?” You replied innocently. Clearly, judging by the look on your brother’s face, he was talking about your boring lunch with Minho.

Seungmin sighed; it was full of annoyance. “You know exactly what I mean!”

You still pretended to be curious as to what he meant so you shrugged.

“Why did you come from lunch with Minho so.. normal? Usually when people have a meeting with someone they really like, they can’t think of anything else but that person. But you.. you seem fine! Almost too fine.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “Do you really not feel that way for him?” He finally asked.

You looked up into Seungmin’s eyes. You couldn’t find it in yourself to lie to him. “I-I’m just not ready yet.” You replied, your voice soft. “I thought you knew that.”

“I do know. I’m not mad at you, I just don’t get you. This is a big opportunity and Mom’s gonna be upset with you, I’m just telling you now.” Your older brother replied.

“I know she is.. Minho’s a good guy, it’s just I don’t think I could marry him, or anyone for that matter. Not right now, anyway.”

Seungmin let out a sigh again. He was done nudging an answer out if you. “Alright, just don’t be so indecisive for too long. It’s all in your hands.” He began to walk out of the room but stopped himself. “Remember that you have to talk with Mom at 3, okay?” His smile was soft as he continued to walk.

You watched him walk out of the room, leaving you at the table. You grunted softly and put your hands over your eyes. I need to get some fresh air.. your thoughts festered.

...

Again, you found yourself outside by the pool as a way to calm down. You had understood what Seungmin meant and that he was just looking out for you, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it..

“Do you really not feel that way for him?”

You tried to shake off the feeling by continuing to look into the pool and soon threw water towards your face. When you went for another splash to wake yourself up, you heard someone walk up to where you sat and soon the voice that belonged to it:

“I hate to be interrupting something but are you okay, Your Highness?” It was Hyunjin. You looked up at him with your chlorine drenched face and smiled.

“Yeah, I’m fine! No need to worry!” You replied with a small laugh. “Just trying to calm my nerves..” Looking up at him again, you saw his hand holding out a handkerchief.

Hyunjin smiled. “Here. I think you need it.” He chuckled.

You were surprised at his kindness and took the handkerchief, a soft smile coming to your face. “Thank you.” Taking his hand to get up, you met eyes with him. Something about seeing him so close made you feel kind of nervous, even though you weren’t the one with the new job. Still, he made you feel comfortable. Hyunjin was doing his job as a guard right.

Hyunjin tried to break the silence. “So, care to explain what you’re doing out here?” He asked curiously.

“Well,” you started, “I usually come here to calm myself down. Seeing the water settles me.”

“Oh, I see..” He didn’t want to pry on what could have been messing with your emotions and decided to try and keep conversation. “Whenever I get stressed, I like to go out and shoot some arrows. It feels good to just shoot without the worry of doing wrong.”

You looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed, as you asked, “So then, what do you do? Do you just.. shoot?”

Hyunjin laughed at your question, his smile reaching his eyes. “Yeah, pretty much! Of course, still with the skills I’ve learned. I just try not to be fancy with it.”

“Okay.. I think I get it.” You replied to him, your voice drifting in volume. “Do you mind showing me some of the “fancy work,” mayhaps?” You looked up at him with a small smirk.

“If the Princess allows it.” Hyunjin replied; your nodding seemed to be a yes. “Alright then, let’s go to the fields. The King let me set up some materials over there.”

After walking to the fields, your eyes widened when you saw the archery setting. Bows and arrows on their own table, targets set at different ranges. It was like you had heard of before from Chan. You were excited to see how it really looked in person; seeing archery was different than hearing about it.

Hyunjin bent down to pick up one of the bows and an arrow from the table. He looked back at you and smiled. “I’ll shoot to the second nearest one so you can see it.” His voice lifted near the end of his sentence and his smile matched his happy tone. As he adjusted his form, he took a deep breath. He lifted the bow and arrow and closed his right eye, trying to get the best shot. You watched his smile turn into a serious straight face as he got a confident glint in his eye. Hyunjin soon released the arrow and watched it hit the target he had been aiming for.

“Wait a second,” you said, looking at the target, “you got it straight in the middle!”

He nodded and held the bow in his hands. “It’s like I told you! I still use the skills I’ve learned.” Hyunjin smiled at you again and handed you the bow.

“What is it? Why are you giving me-“ He stopped your question and put an arrow in your free hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m just gonna help you.” His voice was soft as he adjusted your hand placement and your angle. You ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks, but you were thankful for his help.

“Okay,” Hyunjin continued, “now close your right eye, since that’s the hand you’ll be shooting with.” You listened to his words and closed your eye. “Now just hold back your right arm. Only shoot when you’re ready.” You strengthened your grip and almost forgot that Hyunjin was there. Straightening your gaze like he had done before, you finally let go of the arrow. Your eyes closed immediately as you did.

Your worries wavered away as you heard Hyunjin’s laugh. “You did good for your first try! Come on, open your eyes and look. I promise you actually got a hit on the target.” As you opened your eyes, you saw the target with the arrow on the third ring. You looked at him and smiled.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he chuckled, “The third ring is good enough.”

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” You replied. His laugh made you laugh along with him. “I’m surprised that you even wanted to show me! So thank you very much for the lesson.”

He shook his hands around in a sporadic manner. “Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

You could tell that he really was happy to teach you and that his smile was genuine. A rush of shock ran over you as you realized how late it was. “Oh no... I totally forgot that I had to meet with my mom today.” Your eyes were sorry as you said, “Please forgive me for leaving so suddenly, I have a meeting and I can’t stay too long. I’m really sorry, Hyunjin.” You did a head bow as an apology.

“Please don’t bow to me, Princess Y/N! If you need to leave, it’s okay. Feel free to go! I-I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer.” Hyunjin’s words were a jumble, he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say to you. Especially after your politeness towards him.

You giggled a bit at his flustered behavior. “Alright, see you later! Thanks again for the archery lesson!”

Hyunjin watched as you dashed off into the distance, probably going to the castle. There was a pleasant feeling in his chest. He was glad that he could have a good time with even a Princess. But he couldn’t figure out what it was about you that made him smile so much to himself... was it your attitude? Your kindness? Maybe he was thinking too much about it.

“Oh hey Hyunjin!” A familiar voice greeted him. Hyunjin turned around and saw Chan standing there with his bright smile. “What are you doing out here? Doing some archery?” Chan referred to the setup in front of them.

“Yeah! I even got to give Princess Y/N a small lesson. With her permission, of course.” Hyunjin replied.

Chan was intrigued as his mouth formed a small ‘o’. “Oh, I see. That’s good, I’m glad she’s trying new things.” He smiled again.

Hyunjin nodded happily. He glanced to the table that had the bows and arrows on them and noticed there were only two bows instead of the three that were there before. “Oh, I guess she accidentally took one of the bows with her. She was kind of in a rush.”

“That makes sense. She doesn’t like to make the Queen upset over simple things like being late.” Chan patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry too much, she’ll probably be able to give it to you later.”

“Yeah..” He started to walk with Chan back into the castle.

“Hey,” Chan said quickly, “Do you think I could learn some archery skills from you, too? I can teach you how to handle and fight with a sword in exchange.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Sure, I’ve been needing to get better at that, anyway.”

...

You had met with your mother that day to talk about the harvest festival taking place in a few days. It was the pride of your kingdom; the small amount of time that most ‘regulars’ could come into the castle to join in games, music, and dancing. You looked across the table at your mother with confusion in your brows when she told you that you were going to be greeting people for most of the festival.

“What? What do you mean? That’s what you and Father usually do.” You retorted.

Your mother sighed. “Yes, I know. It’s different but it’s okay! Instead of us, it’ll be you and Minho. That’s why you two are doing the ending dance instead of your father and I. And then you can take the prized crown alongside Minho.”

You found her smile too pleasant. It made you feel betrayed that she would tell you so early, as if she knew you would’ve tried to leave. “But.. why didn’t you tell me earlier? I’m still just a young princess, you know.”

“Don’t play that game with me. Why else would I have you practice with Minho beforehand? Be reasonable and stop arguing with your mother.” She said plainly.

“Fine, I guess I have to do it.” Her tone made you feel overpowered, like whatever you would’ve said wouldn’t have mattered anyway. “Thank you for telling me, Mother. I hope I can greet everyone well.”

She laid a hand on your cheek and smiled at you. “That’s my girl. I’m going to pick out the best dress and accessories for you, I promise. You’ll wear the crown greatly.”

“Thank you,” you told her again before you left. All you wanted to do is get to your room, the one place you could let your emotions out. At this point, you didn’t want to go to the harvest festival at all. You jumped on the bed at stayed there for a few hours.

You hadn’t wanted to do much around the castle the next few days. Your mother and father had decided to let you do what you wanted to do; to be by yourself. Your father came to you yesterday to reassure you that you could do it, just for one night.

Though you didn’t respond at all, you remember him talking about sudden threats that had come around every harvest festival. All he wanted was for you to be safe, and he knew that throwing you into it was not the best decision. Your father just knew in his heart that you would do well, like he and your mother did.

You decided to get up after two sluggish days. You looked outside of the window and then at the clock. “I guess I’ll have to really do it tomorrow.” You mumbled.

Maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

...

As you sat at the mirror getting ready for the festival, you practiced your smile. You even tried different ones to change it up and give your face a rest. One of your designers laughed.

“What are you doing, Princess Y/N? You look so funny.” She said, still chuckling.

You looked back to her and retorted, “I’m practicing my smile for the festival. Father says not to look too dull.”

“Well trust me,” she laughed, “the king will be surprised and probably pleased.” You shared a smile with her but she quickly faced your head towards the mirror. “Now face forward. I need to finish your makeup in 30 minutes.”

Before you knew it, you were walking down the spiraling staircase to the main floor. You felt stiff due to the makeup and extravagant light red dress, but you had to admit that you looked good. When you got down, you saw Minho standing there in his tuxedo. It was a nice red with white accents. The red matched your own.

You smiled as you came to him, deciding to be as nice as you could to him that day. “You look so nice today. Your courters dressed you well.” You remarked.

“Thank you, Y/N. You look splendid.” Minho replied as he went for a kiss on your hand, as he usually did.

“Let’s get going, okay? The gates open in a few minutes!”

He beamed at your enthusiasm and took a tight hold on your hand. “Of course.”

...

For the past two hours at the harvest festival, you had been stuck greeting every single person who had stepped through the door. You were glad to see all of your citizens but while all of them moved on from the line and had fun, you were still stuck at the door. And to make matters worse, Minho held onto your hand like it was life or death.

All of a sudden, the music playing from the ballroom stopped. You remembered it from before.

“Now, we’ll stop the dancing for a few minutes to have a special couple dance together.” Your father’s voice was clear from the ballroom.

Minho looked at you. “I guess that’s us.” He walked with you, hand in hand, to the ballroom.

“And it’s not just any couple. It’s our very own junior fiancés!” Your mother added as you and Minho walked in. All of the citizens clapped and cheered for you, yet only you were surprised by the term ‘fiancé’.

Soon, you and Minho were the center of attention. All of everyone’s eyes were on you two. Minho tried to assure you that everything would be okay with his eyes, as if he could tell that you were worried.

You must’ve spaced out; the music started playing again. A smile came back to you as you remembered the song. You waltzed with him like you had practiced before, moving your way across the floor. Minho’s glimmering eyes showed a deep effect of love towards you. You tried your best to ignore how close he was until the end of the song.

The citizens clapped for your shared dance. You smiled, you must’ve done it well. “Guess we didn’t do too bad, huh?” You said quietly.

Minho placed a hand on your cheek and surprised you and everyone else in the ballroom; he kissed the other one. You didn’t know why he would’ve done it so passionately, it wasn’t like how you had practiced. Your feelings were unsure.

What’s going on? Is this okay? Why do I feel like this?

You pulled away after a few seconds of thinking. Backing away, you ran out with a small mumble, “I’m sorry.”

Your hands were clammy. You felt like you hadn’t drank water in days. The butterflies in your stomach seemed to only get worse. You needed to get out of there. No, you needed to get anywhere but there. Your thoughts were a giant mess as you thought of where to go. Thinking of leaving the castle was already a no, but where else could you-

“Ah!” You let out after bumping into a familiar figure in the main hall.

Hyunjin caught you. “Careful there, princess. You remember what the King and Queen said, hm?” He said, keeping your eye contact. “You should be in the ballroom.” Leaning over your shoulder to whisper those few words.

“I know. It’s just..” Steps could be heard down the hall along with your mother’s calls for you. You glanced back to him. Your thoughts ran dry, and you did the only thing you thought to do. “Kiss me.”

“Princess Y/N-“

“I said kiss me.” You didn’t know where the straightforwardness was coming from but what would happen was unexpected.

Hyunjin leaned in for a kiss on your lips and closed his eyes. You had enjoyed it as you both moved swiftly into the room next to you. He had held onto your head tightly as he continued to kiss you.

When you both let go, you smiled. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “You’re a good kisser, Guard Hwang.”

“There’s no need to call me that, Princess Y/N.” He shook his head with a smile, still a little shocked that he kissed the princess in the first place. “But I have a question.”

You looked at him with curious eyes. “What is it?” You asked.

“Why did you come sprinting down there? And I understand that it might be hard to talk about.” Hyunjin replied softly.

“Well, you remember the prince I was dancing with that day, correct?” Hyunjin nodded at your question. “Basically we did the same dance at the festival today. But Minho changed things up and kissed me on the cheek. I didn’t know what to do, I was just confused..” Your voice fell to a quieter level.

Hyunjin patted your back and sat you down on the bed in the room. “Don’t worry about him, it’s okay. He should’ve known that you wouldn’t have liked it as much as he would’ve.”

You shared a pleasant smile with Hyunjin as he continued to pat your back. You were glad that someone was there to uplift you.

The lovely feeling in the room soon disappeared when yells of “intruder” and “thief” came upon Hyunjin’s and your ears from outside the room. You looked at him worried but he shook his head.

“Stay here, okay? I’m still supposed to be on post.” Hyunjin stated.

As Hyunjin walked out of the room and down the hall, he kept a serious face. His eyes glanced around as if he could feel someone else’s presence was there. He slowly got the bow — one of the secondary ones from your small lesson — off of him and slowed his pace.

“You guys are very bad at hiding.” He mumbled. He easily could see one of the culprits hiding behind a pillar in a mirror right across. Without any hesitation, he lifted the bow and strengthened his grip on the arrow and shot for the mirror instead.

The man screamed and jumped out of the way. He started to shake on the floor. Hyunjin sighed as he walked up to the man and held him by his collar. “I’m sorry sir. I don’t care what sob story you give me, duty calls. I have to take you to the King for intruding.” He flipped the man over and stood up with him, soon grabbing his wrists from behind and placing them over each other.

“Let’s go.” Hyunjin’s tone made the guilty culprit start walking with his head down.

“You do know that it’s not just me, right?” said the man.

“Well of course. There’s never just one.” Hyunjin replied quickly.

The man sighed as if he was immediately sorry. “I’m very sorry for what might happen to the kingdom after all of this.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me,” Hyunjin said to the man, “that’s something you need to take up with the King and Queen. Just know that it’s likely that you’ll go to jail for this.”

The man was surprised at how nonchalant Hyunjin was. “Thank you for not being too rough with me.”

“Just doing my job, sir.” Hyunjin said with a small chuckle.

After a few minutes, the intruder and Hyunjin made it to the King in the ballroom. “Here, Your Highness. I’ve caught one of the intruders.”

“Thank you, Guard Hwang. I appreciate it.” The King smiled as he took the culprit to some policemen that were called to the scene. “Here’s one of them!” He called to them.

Hyunjin looked around the ballroom, recognizing the faces he had seen at his post. The citizens murmured worriedly all around. But he could tell that someone was missing.

“Your Highness,” Hyunjin called, “do you mind if I check outside? That culprit over there told me that there’s more than just him.” The king nodded. “Of course, just take another guard with you.” He motioned towards Chan. “Guard Bang, go with Guard Hwang to check outside. If there’s more intruders, just call for more.”

“Yes, Sir.” Chan grabbed his sword and shield in hand. “Alright let’s get going, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin nodded and the two went out of the castle, soon being met with the slowly setting sky. They looked all around the perimeter of the castle after deciding to split up but after they found nothing, they threw away the plan and searched together.

“Do you think anyone’s actually out here?” Hyunjin whispered to Chan softly.

Chan shrugged at his question. He wasn’t quite sure what could come from searching or not. “Usually there’s more than one when it comes to castle takeovers, so probably. But it’s hard to see with only the moon enlightening us. So try not to worry. The King won’t kill you if no one’s out here.” He tried to lighten up the mood with a chuckle.

“Okay..” Hyunjin mumbled. For a while, only the crunching of the grass under their boots could be heard. They paid close attention to their surroundings.

“S-stop right there!” A voice shouted from behind them, their voice breaking near the end of their scream. Hyunjin and Chan turned around to see the person who owned the voice: Prince Minho with a sword held in front of him. “What are you guards doing out here?”

Chan held his sword in a tight hand. “We should be asking you the same question.”

“I just wanted to get some fresh air. It was a bit congested in there.” Minho’s light laugh had a nod to something else. He had kept one hand behind his back.

“Are you sure about that?” Hyunjin spoke up. “There’s something more to what you’re saying.” His eyes stayed close to the prince’s hidden hand.

“Your Highness,” Chan started, “may I ask you to lower your sword?”

Minho’s face tightened. He didn’t expect this. “O-of course. Of course I can.” His voice shook slightly; he was terrified. He knew they knew. But still, he didn’t lay down his sword. He couldn’t. “Actually.. no. Shouldn’t you be a bit more respectful to your future king? I can do as I please.”

When Minho turned around to leave, Chan pushed his weight onto him and tried to hold him down. “Hyunjin, here!” He held out what the prince had been hiding: the crown. “Go and return it! I’ll take care of this guy.”

“Okay!” Hyunjin ran off and dashed through the castle. He held to a pause when he saw you standing there in the hall. “Princess Y/N.. I think this is yours.”

You held the crown tightly and smiled. “Thank you so much, Hyunjin. I really appreciate it.” You wanted to thank him but the confidence from before came back to you. “Hey, do you have time to dance with a princess such as myself?”

“Well, I think so. I do have to do my job as a guard and stay at my post.” He chuckled. “But of course, Princess.”

You smiled softly and took his hand to lead him into the room you were both in before. “I know the perfect song.” You soon put in the song that gave you pleasure into the gramophone.

Hyunjin took your hand gently and began to waltz with you. His smile was soft on his face as it reached his eyes. The strings in the music led you across the room. You hadn’t wanted your final dance any other way. The song calmed along with your dancing near the end.

“I feel like I’m going to cause you trouble, Princess Y/N.” Hyunjin said, his hand was tenderly clasped with yours.

“I would count it as good trouble, my archer.” You softly replied as you kissed his cheek. As Hyunjin put the crown atop your head, you both laughed. The two of you waltzed in the room for the rest of the night, the sun’s final colors setting behind you through the window.

#stray kids #hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop fic #kpop fanfic

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anastasiaskywalker4 · 3 years

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MisterLuu

That is actually the best pairing DC can make out of Trinity aside Lois and Clark. Or Bruce

and Clark for that matter. They both fit Bruce well, though Diana is even more matched with

him. In fact she's the best match romantically for him out there. At least so far. Though

number of fanfiction and arts on the net would suggest that that spot is reserved for

Superman not Wonder Woman :D

Except maybe for Silver and Julie - all Batman's love interest are abusive and downright

toxic. Selina, Talia, Adrea, Jet. Because in terms of comics and not relationships it fits

Gotham mold. People just tend to forget it after rebirth run. Yeah the one that made Batman

impotent and unable to do anything without the Cat around. Exactly that one. And tend to

forget how terrible as human beings his lovers really are.

Going back to the point. Both Talia and Selina tried to kill him multiple times in the past, or

those close to him. Whatever right? Who wouldn't like a lover that tried to end you few times

over. Both assaulted him physically and emotionally. Repeatedly. Both scared his body and

his mind. Repeatedly. Both tried to seduce his wards (adopted sons if u like), just to get to

him. In Talia's case that was basically pedophilia. That's just sick and makes you want to

puke. Both are possessive bitches, Cat threatening his flings while they are in bed while

Talia, well Talia can even go as far as beheading (to her credit she was right with this one).

Both makes him a goddamn hypocrite. Both face no repercussions after a cold blooded

murder while at the same time he berates Diana like a dick when she came to look for his

friendship and support after Max incident. Difference is she had no choice while Selina or

Talia most certainly had. Great move Bats, hypocrite much? And most importantly they both

lie and betray him, and leave him. Over and over again. Again, that's a constant with Cat

and miss Al Ghul. Diana never showed any of those traits with any of her lovers.

Get any counselor or psychiatrist to read actual Bat love history throughout the decades

and they would be writing books on how disfuncional they are. For a love-hate dynamics

they work fine. Or for some adrenaline fueled sex, but that's it. Hell, he even banged Dinah

when they were on adrenaline high. It all has a clinical term. Trauma bonding. As opposed

to authentic bonding. Which he could have with WW, had even one of them tried.

They did not though. Out of fear of ruining their mutual respect and deep bond. In

pre-flashpoint it may have been a thing if Diana acted on it. Again, Diana, not Bruce, so cut

the crap on how he was deflecting her. He was in doubt, yeah, but clearly was ready to give

it a go. She was the one that got scared even though she was clearly had over bat hills in

love with him. Even Martian stated this to Supes. Pre Crisis ? Not really. Some flirting and

kissing, nothing more. Post-flashpoint, New 52 and Rebirth ? Also not, though DC like to

tease those two. Forever Evil gets a hint that Bruce feels more than friendship towards her,

much to Selina's dismay. And that goddamn tension when they got to spends decades

together in another realm. Mostly from Diana side again. But no. The real canon love that Diana had for Bruce was during pre-flashpoint, not counting alternative universes. And it

was so strong that it showed her loving him more than her mother and sisters. And her

lasso forced her to admit it when facing Mera. But Bruce was "dead" at that point. So yeah,

never acted upon this. Pity. You could see she regretted it.

Aside their comics history in canon universe, realistically speaking Diana is way more

similar to Bruce than Selina will ever be (or Talia for that matter). Even though at a the first

glance they are nothing alike. She's the light , he's the darkness. She believes in love and

trust, tries to see the good in everyone. He's cunning, distrustful and downright realistic to

her idealistic approach. She's honest and straight while he will not hesitate to lie or to use

violence to get results. And you know what? It makes for great couple chemistry and

tension. It may be a cliche, yeah, but Yin and Yang dynamics work. That's why Clark ends

up with Lois all the freaking time. Even on elseworlds he and Diana are a thing only after

Lois is out of the picture. But that's not the most important thing. Yin and Yang provides for

a tension yes, but it would never last in the long run. For a relationship you need also

something in common. And Bruce has that in spades with Diana.

They might be on opposite side of the spectrum but than you realize how much alike they

really are. They are both kindred spirits. Both born fighters, warriors at heart. Arguably two

of the best in the world. At least Diana is according to Batman. And judging by Wonder

Woman's choices in man that is a highly important trait to her. Both endlessly fighting for

others. Both have utmost respect and admiration for each other. Both tirelessly train to

make themselves physically and spiritually better. Constantly. And to make the other better.

Their sparring sessions are legendary. And heated. Both with a great heart and

compassion. I would argue that Bruce's compassion is even bigger than Diana's. Even

though their methods might differ they share the same goal, which he has with no other

woman. Both have the heart of a warrior and are pushed by the circumstances of their

upbringing to reach for impossible dreams. They are also two of the most stubborn and

obstinate people in DC universe. Both perfectly capable of operating solo, and yet both

performing the best in a team. And yes, Bats is a great team player. Both natural leaders

that other heroes follow without hesitation. Both selfless and able to sacrifice for those they

value, trust and love. None of the other Bat trollups have any of those traits. Not to mention

they emotionally and physically find the other highly attractive. One being a literal goddess

and the other perfect male specimen. As for Batman, his relationships tend to collapse due

to a lack of trust. He's either unwilling to bring his romantic partner fully into his world or he

can't bring himself to trust completely. While Selina got his trust now, it's recent

development. And a mistake judging by latest issues. Again. One would think he's smarter.

When it comes to Diana, he trusts her. Fully. She's not privy like BatClan is to his world, but

they aren't that close in mainstream DC. She's not a psycho with daddy issues or a violent

narcissist. List can go on. Selina on the other hand doesn't have that much in common with

Bruce than she has. Not even close. He loves her, yes. But I don't see Di leaving him

countless times over the choices he makes. Or lying, or betraying, or trying to sleep with

Dick to spite him or... you get the point. Though there is one thing that gives Kyle an edge.

Immortality. Diana won't die unless killed. It doesn't make for a great long term relationship

prospect. But then again, those are comics, and he's a goddamn Batman. He would find a

way :)

The thing is - there is no other woman that fits his world as much as Diana does. And Bat is

capable to loving deeply and going to great commitments with a special woman. He showed

it with Andrea, he showed it with Silver. Problem is he always got burned. Every time he let

his guard down and opened himself. And he would have to do it when it comes to Wonder

Woman. She deserves that. It's hard to imagine with current Bruce, but it is most definitely

possible. It would be harder than with an ex criminal or an assassin though. Because there

would be much more on the line. The other two would crawl back anyway if he messed it

up, Di wouldn't.

There is also another aspect to this outside comic universe. His partners tend to be minor

characters compared to WW. She has her own series, JL, JL dark and every major

crossover/event happening in DC. They don't. And so does Batman. Both are one of the