#I’m still in the glass case of emotion

[daddycephalopod]

All I’m gonna say is Rex would be in his 40s in Ahsoka, and I’m just gonna leave it at that.

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ YOU TURN ME ON! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what turns the jjk men on? Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you!

INFO...jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso, higuruma, sukuna) x fem!reader, sexual and non sexual turn ons (kinda), whispering, eye contact, tight clothing, shower sex, p in v, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pheromones (?), mention of glasses (sukuna), facial (sukuna), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

GOJO

gojo loves when you whisper in his ear. Something about you being so close to him, feeling your breath on his skin just does something to him. He gets immediate chills up his body and a small little smirk on his face. It doesn’t even have to be sexual either, you could whisper the most basic shit and he’d be giggling like a school girl cause he just loves hearing your voice in that tone. Now, when it is sexual…that man will nut inside of you without warning. You’re moaning and whispering in his ear? He’s a goner, quite literally on another planet. Nibble on his ear a little and his eyes will roll back. Sometimes you’ll do it in purpose while you two are out in public and he gives you the biggest pout ever. “Baby, don’t do that to me c’mon,” he whines. He damn near dragged you to the car and fucked you in the backseat…

NANAMI

nanami loves eyes contact a little too much. Sometimes it’s intimidating because he’s such a stoic man and doesn’t show very much emotion in his face, so he will just stare at you. But overtime you’ve grown to be comfortable with making eye contact with him, just staring lovingly while he talks about work or whatever. He stares into your eyes so much that he can tell what you’re thinking and feeling. More specifically, he knows when you’re in the mood, the little glint in your eye while you smile at him, looking at him up and down like he’s a piece of meat. In that case, expect eye contact during sex! Nanami loves missionary just looking at you, forehead pressed against yours, and he can’t get over that pleading look, batting your pretty lashes at him while you moan his name. “Yes, right here, baby. Keep looking at me. There’s my girl,” he softly sighs.

TOJI

toji loves tight clothes (no surprise). He genuinely thinks you look good in anything, but something about seeing the outline of your body makes him a crazed man. He will nonstop be touching you, handing on your ass, waist, titties, thighs…he does not give a damn. You could be wearing your pajamas and he will still find you sexy. You bend over in something tight? He’s now hard and has to fix the problem, not that he minds. He bends you over right there on the couch with your shorts around your ankles. It’s date night? He’s excited because you’re gonna wear that new dress he bought you—the one that hugs your body so well, showing off all your curves. Wandering eyes follow your every movement while you get ready and be chews on his bottom lip while he thinks of everything he wants to do to you. “Yeah, doll, I don’t think we’ll be making it to dinner tonight,” he chuckles.

GETO

geto loves soapy titties. Now I know that’s like very specific…but I just see him getting turned on by soapy tits for some reason (I don’t make the rules). He doesn’t care what size they are, what they look like, just throw some soap and water on them bad boys and he’s a satisfied man. Bonus points if you send him an unexpected photo in the shower while he’s away. He almost drops his phone while waiting in line for food because he can’t believe his eyes—your perky nipples and soap cascading down your entire body. Expect shower sex…a lot of shower sex. He will go out of his way to help you wash up, trying to be all nice and polite but minutes later his hands are groping your chest and playing with your nipples, soap running between his fingers while he fucks you against the shower wall. “They look so pretty in my hands, baby. I love ‘em.” He lazily smiles.

CHOSO

choso loves when his hair gets pulled or when you play with his hair. He only discovered this when you were doing his hair and accidentally pulled it and to his surprise (and yours) he let out a small whimper. Now you go out of your way to tease him, tugging at his hair whenever you walk by, giggling when he huffs in annoyance. He likes laying on your chest and you just run your fingers through his hair, he immediately melts into your touch. Oh but Choso definitely likes it when you tug at his hair when he’s eating you out…why wouldn’t he? It makes him so hard when he feels your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling and tugging at it while you basically ride his face for your pleasure. You only tug harder when you get closer and closer to your orgasm and his dick is throbbing. “Yes, yes, pull on my hair, please, please,” he begs.

HIGURUMA

higuruma gets turned on when you smell good, whether it’s your natural smell or your perfume, conditioner, lotion, whatever you use. You’d walk by him one day in the kitchen, greeting him when came home from work and he stops in his tracks and sniffs the air a couple of times because you smell so good…??? Like really good to the point he just wants to devour you, hold you, do whatever to you. He’ll hold you close and just smell your hair, your skin, kissing you over and over while his hands roam your body. And if you wear a scent that evokes memories of you two, like a first date or something like that…he pounces on you like a tiger. “How do you smell so fucking good? God, I could just eat you up right now…would you let me?”

SUKUNA

sukuna loves glasses. Yes I said it. Modern sukuna more specifically cause yk…But he will see a woman with glasses and think about how cute her face looks, how smart she looks…the innocent thoughts at first, and then his evil, horny ass would think about what they would look like when he’s fucking you. He can never be wholesome. Will they fog up? Will you let him cum on them? Do you even keep them on? Will they break if he fucks you too hard? All questions that need to be answered. So yes, he eventually fucks a woman with glasses and god does he love it. He finds it adorable when you push up your glasses every ten seconds cause he’s pounding into you too hard. He loves it when you look over them while giving him head. And yes, they do fog up. “Gonna let me cum all over your face? Yeah..? No, no, keep them on for me,” he devilishly smirks, licking his lips.

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs @sm8th0p @waterfal-ling @bonneyzsk @ventila98

[luveline]

Hi!! Sometimes in ur bombshell reader fics she talks about how she has nervous energy would u ever write a bombshell reader fic where she has one of those days where she just woke up wired and Spencer tries to calm her down?

“Spencer,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

Spencer turns another page. You, across from him with your legs crossed, slouched, poke at his leg gently with your foot. “What are you reading?” 

“It’s just a book on Wyoming land boundaries.” 

You nod. Spencer watches you from across the top of his book, at first without worry, and then an attentiveness that furthers all the reasons you may or may not be in love with him. 

“You okay?” 

Everything should be fine. The case is solved. You’re heading home, without turbulence, two hours at most from touching down after a job well done. “I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” he asks. 

You smile fraughtly. You try your best to be the perfect image, to put that best foot forward, and you nail it ninety nine days out of a hundred. Nobody knows about your nervousness besides you, and that’s how you’d like it to stay, but Spencer clearly cares about you too much to look away. 

He closes his book and sets in on the table, pushing a glass into his hand. “Here,” he says, leaning forward. “It’s not poisoned.” 

You take it. Feeling his gaze, you drink a little sip that immediately goes down the wrong way. Your coughing swallow perturbs him worse. 

People tend to look at Spencer and see someone who needs more help. Even the people closest to him can doubt his ability, but as far as you’re concerned he’s proven to understand emotion quite well. He won’t shake a stranger's hand, he can’t flirt to save his life without notice, but he can make you feel better. He’s good at taking care of you, even if nobody else can see it. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning right over to touch both your knees at once. He pushes your skirt up a half inch with the movement, but his eyes are on your face. “You have the jitters?” 

“Think so,” you murmur. 

“Maybe it’s the air pressure.” 

You’re sure he knows you get like this sometime, but his explanation is kind. His hands on your knees are somehow strangely placed and still a natural feeling. Just like sitting together at his place to watch TV, or elbow to elbow on the train into New York, your boundaries with one another are eroding. 

“Wanna come and sit by me?” he asks, like he’s thinking the same thing. 

You laugh softly. “In all that space?” 

The seat is big enough for a larger person, but not you and Spencer together. 

He squeezes himself right to the side. “Come on,” he insists, sitting back, “just sit with me.” 

“I’ll squish you.” 

“So squish me.”

You think about it before setting your traded glass down. You don’t know why you have these weird moods, you don’t understand what it is about Spencer that can make them feel better, but he’s offering to make it go away. You have no real reason to turn him down. 

In the end, you sit in the chair beside him, ignoring Hotch’s perturbed look as you stand and then quickly plop yourself down at Spencer’s side. Your thigh has to go completely on top of his, but otherwise, it’s not so bad. It’s more room than you thought. 

It works quicker than you could imagine. With both of your heads held back the space between you is still minimal, which means his face is in detail. His hair brushed back and with the barest traces of gel, a little curled, what had Hotch said? His boyband hair.  

Spencer turns toward you, eye shadowed as he presses his forehead to the chair. “Is it just jitters?” he asks. 

“Sometimes I think I get… weird,” you say. 

“Me too.” He pulls your leg further into his lap. You’re shocked at first, but it’s a friendly move that takes the strain off of your knee. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course you can.” 

“I’ve started to care a whole lot less about being weird since I met you.” 

You fight the urge to touch his hair. “I don’t think it’s about caring, Spence, I just.. don’t feel right.” 

“Okay.” He nods sincerely. “Okay, well, we can work it out. We’re still hours from Virginia, you can turn your brain off. We can work it out.” 

You’re relieved to have him promise it. This isn’t the sort of thing you can work out, but it doesn’t matter, Spencer caring this much makes all the difference. You take a deep, deep breath, and you give him a grateful smile, before you rest your cheek on his shoulder. That’s just wanting, no weird feeling or jittering at the root of you as he lets a warm breath kiss your forehead, his nose pressing into your skin. 

“Don’t let anybody see,” you mumble. 

His next breath is a little shaky. “I won’t.”

See what, you’re not sure. But soon you start to feel less like you’re gonna try popping open an emergency window, and that’s enough for now. 

[inkdrinkerworld]

post!prison Spencer realizing you’re not always sunshiny and happy when one day he spots you crying in the hall before wiping your eyes and walking into the bullpen with your usual megawatt smile like you hadn’t been balling your eyes out five minutes before

It’s a call with your brother that really gets you started.

Spencer watches you take the phone call that starts off pleasant, you’re all smiles and then you frown, dark and full of an anger Spencer hasn’t ever seen on you.

He knows humans are capable of all emotional spectrums but it’s so foreign on your face and in your body language that he’s shocked a little still.

You walk to a secluded part of the office, hushed, rushed, heated words that Spencer feels horrible for straining his ear to listen to but it’s a strange sight.

He’s never seen you like this.

“How is that my fault? I can’t drop everything and take a plane over there every time shit hits the fan. They’re big kids now.”

What’s worse is your voice cracks and he wants desperately to rush to you, comfort you but he forces himself to stay where he is.

He strains his ear and hears you whisper,

“I’m not doing this again. I can’t be that person anymore. They’re 20, I can’t move back home just to baby them again. I’m not going to be walked all over by them anymore.”

You’re not together, you’re just friends- not super close but closer than anyone else on the team. Spencer feels like he should be comforting you when he moves to the kitchen and watches the first tear tumble down your cheek.

“Hey have you seen, Y/N?” Emily asks and Spencer turns his body to block you from view.

“She went to the bathroom, do we have a case?” He asks, stirring a pound of sugar into his coffee.

“Yeah, when she comes out tell her meet us at the jet.” She hands off a file to him and Spencer glances through the pages quickly.

Spencer watches you compose yourself, swiping at your face, fixing your hair and rolling your shoulders back.

Then he watches almost sadly, as you plaster a smile back on your face.

“Hey, Spence. Where’s everybody?” You open the fridge like you usually do and reach for the canister of whipped cream you keep tucked away.

“We have a case,” Spencer watches you shake it and spray some into your palm, connecting the dots over the many times he’s seen you do that in the last couple of months.

You’d always said it was just a, ‘pick me up’ and Spencer hadn’t thought twice about. You all have little things you do to keep you going in the job, but he realises now it’s less to do with work and more to do with your upset.

“Oh shit,” you spray another heap of cream in your palm. “I’ll get my go bag, can you fill me in while we walk, Spence?” You’re already turning to your desk, fiddling about the last draw for your go bag.

Your eyes are still a little red, and he watches you switch your contacts for glasses as soon as you get hold of the bag. “They burn a little right now,” you supply when you catch him looking and he nods like he doesn’t know the truth.

“Alright, let’s go,” he opens the case file Emily handed to him and starts, “So the unsub seems to be a woman hater? I’m not sure how no one figured him out before this is his sixth victim.”

You frown as you tuck your go-bag over your shoulder, “And the geography is all the same? No crossing state lines?”

Spencer admires how easily you slip back into work mode, but as soon as the case is over he needs to find a way to have you talk to him.

[harryspet]

ok but how would dark!Rafe react to the reader coming back to box with a baby she did not know she was pregnant with went she left? But since rafe was always too possessive she decided not to tell him that they had a kid 🙂‍↕️ they used to have some hook ups and was never a real commitment

[warnings] dark!rafe x reader, babydaddy!rafe, emotional/physical abuse, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.4k

“I’m here to pick up a cake. The name is Y/L/N,” You smiled at the young girl working behind the bakery counter as you bounced your toddler on her hip. You’d brought her stroller but Isla was beginning to insist on exploring whatever place you brought her to. You suffered, her weight on your hips, instead of dealing with another meltdown. She was an easy baby, you didn’t have too many sleepless nights when she was younger, but her mood had shifted over the past week.

She was more clingy, more irritable, and it was hard for her to understand that you were only staying on the island for a short time. The trip was brief, a week at most, but necessary. Your sister was getting married, the only reason you’d considered returning at all.

It had been over two years since you last walked these familiar piers, strolled past the charming beachside shops, or caught up with old friends and extended family. So much had changed in that time, not just in your life, but in this place that used to be home. 

“Give us just a few moments. We’re putting on some finishing touches.”

“No problem,” You nodded, still keeping your face pleasant. 

Isla was getting restless, so you decided it was time to let her down.

“Okay, Mama’s putting ya’ down, lovebug,” She was also walking a lot more and could usually walk a few feet on her own before falling. Simultaneously, you pushed her stroller out of the way while you helped her keep her balance with one arm, “Oooh, what’s that?” 

You were always asking her questions, wanting to keep a mental lexicon of all the new words she was using. You could barely keep track now. 

She was talking to herself, using the bakery counter to keep her balance as she walked. You smiled down at her, now able to fully focus on her, without that aching pain you felt on your side. You guided her away from reaching for a glass jar of candy, instead showing her over to a case that displayed a huge array of cookies. 

You heard the bell of the bakery door jingle, and instinctively, you looked up. For a moment, you froze, watching him stride in. Tall, commanding, if anything, time had only sharpened those edges. His face had hardened with the years, the boyishness you once knew replaced by something more formidable. His stature was wider, arms thicker, and chest pronounced. His hair, now buzzed short, added to the maturity that radiated from him, making him look even more intense than before. 

“I’ll take a black coffee. Make it an espresso,” You heard Rafe Cameron say. He hadn’t taken the time to look your way. Your instinct was to grab Isla and leave before he noticed you. Instead you turned your head and led Isla over to one of the cafe tables. 

Your mind was racing but you did your best to keep your movements calm. His voice had sent a chill down your spine and the last thing you needed was for him to notice you. He probably wouldn’t, you told yourself, since the last time he saw you, he didn’t even know you were pregnant. 

You tried to distract Isla by giving her one of her stuffed rabbits but her mood was shifting quickly. She wanted to look at all the baked goods through the glass and no toy would compare to that. Her lower lip started to tremble and as they did, you lifted her into your lap, “I know, baby,” You whispered but she arched her back, starting to wail, “Isla, not right now, please.”

You cooed at her and tried to rock her but now you were afraid you’d made the situation worse, drawn more attention to yourselves. 

“Y/N,” Rafe’s voice was low and you could already hear the disbelief. 

There was no way out of it. You’d been avoiding this exact confrontation and planned to never have to deal with this. When your eyes met with his, you thought of Isla, and kept her tight against you despite her protests. 

Rafe’s gaze bore into you, sharp and questioning, his eyebrow arched in a way that was both familiar and unsettling. His eyes flickered back and forth between you and Isla, trying to piece together the reality that had just unfolded in front of him. Then, with a heaviness that matched the tension in the air, he collapsed into the wooden seat beside yours. He seemed ...exhausted. He folded his arms over the table, his hands gripping the coffee cup as if it were the only thing grounding him.

Present blurred with the past, the intensity of his gaze pulling you back to memories you’d buried long ago. You thought of late nights, laughter and sneaking around. You remembered how he used to look at you, how he saw you at your most vulnerable and still made you feel cherished. 

“Rafe,” You finally spoke, slowly, “It’s been so long–”

“You weren’t ever going to tell me.” 

You swallowed hard, wondering how he had pieced it all together so quickly. Isla, still upset, stared up at Rafe with a mix of curiosity and fear, her small fingers tucked into her mouth. Even with tears streaming down her face, the resemblance was undeniable. She was a perfect blend of both of you—his eyes, your smile, a fusion of your skin tones and hair textures. Your carefully guarded secret was written all over her for him to see.

“No,” You said honestly, “My parents …I did it for them at first. They were concerned.”

“What? You think I’d hurt her or something. My own fucking kid?” He kept his voice at conversational level but the look in his eyes made it feel like it was yelling. 

“I didn’t know…you were so angry when we stopped hooking up,” You started to shrink which was exactly what you were afraid of, “And then when you got arrested …”

“Fuck,” Was all he said, “What’s …What’s her name?”

“Isla,” You answered.

“Isla,” Rafe repeated and for a moment, there was tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at her, “You were pregnant when you left?”

You nodded, “We’re just here for the rest of the week because of my sisters wedding.”

“Where do you live?” Rafe asked and this time you hesitated. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea …”

"I'm going to lay it out for you, Y/N," Rafe began, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze locked on you. "You're going to tell me where you've been living, everything you've been hiding from me these past two years. I want to know who you've been with, who you’ve spread your legs for, who you've let near my daughter. Then, the two of you are coming back to Kildare, and you're going to let me be a part of her life. No more secrets. No more running."

His demands, raw and unfiltered, made you feel a rush of emotions. Fear and anger settled over your features, “Rafe. It’s not …it’s not happening. It’s not about you or me. This is all for her.”

“I’m not letting you shut me out again. Do you understand that?” The young girl behind the counter called your name and you made a move to stand up but Rafe reached across the table to grab your arm. 

“We have to go and I need time to …to figure this out.”

He shook his head and you winced at the pressure he was putting on your skin. “Time? You’ve had two years, Y/N. Two years without me. You walk out of here, I will find you. You leave this island and I will search for you.” 

“This isn’t the place for this. Let me go,” You gritted your teeth. 

“You know what I’m capable of, right?” He eyed you sharply, unrelenting. You thought back to those happy memories. When things were good, they were incredible and when things were bad …You never had a label with Rafe and yet every guy you talked to that wasn’t him always seemed to end up injured or broke contact with you, “And things have changed around here. There are more lines, different lines, I’m willing to cross.”

You knew that coldness in his eyes, you’d seen it many times in the aftermath of his rage. “Rafe, please,” You whispered, “For Isla’s sake.”

“She’s mine and so are you.” You finally nodded, tears stinging your eyes, and he finally loosened his grip.

You made your way with Isla and her stroller back to the counter, collecting your sister’s wedding cake. As you reached your car, you glanced back, half-expecting Rafe to follow you. But he remained inside, watching you through the glass.

+

hope you enjoyed!!

[goldfish-afterhours]

Genshin Characters Apologizing After a Bad Fight

Characters: Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli x Gn!reader

Type/genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/hurt comfort?

Warnings: Curse words, probably not the healthiest coping mechanisms/apologies

Diluc

His apology comes out strained, as if the words are clinging to the back of his throat

His fists are clenched tight by his side. He prepares himself for you to yell, to scream at him

But you don’t even turn around to look at him

Diluc always saw you as his rock, his lighthouse in the stormy night, the one who keeps him steady as his duties of both vineyard owner and vigilante shake him back and forth like a ragdoll

But right now, it hits him for the first time how small your back is, how human you look

Has he been taking you for granted all this time?

When you don’t respond to his apology, he calls your name, and you finally turn around

His eyes widen when he sees the tears streaming down your face

His heart absolutely breaks. How could he have made you, his love, his everything, hurt this much?

Before either of you says anything, Diluc flies towards you, cradling your head gently in his arms, as if any slight pressure would cause you to break and shatter like glass

“How pathetic of me to make you cry. I’m so sorry.”

Childe

His heart could rival the weight of the world right now

Childe isn’t used to disappointing others. No, he’s always been the golden boy, the prodigy, the one who sets the bar and breaks it at the same time

So how come you are sitting with your back to him, refusing to say a word?

And why can’t he find it in himself to say something, anything, to make this better?

He is petty person, someone willing to drown an entire city rather than admit defeat. Any word of apology is almost impossible to force out of him.

Instead, he drops a book in front of you. It flips to a random page, and you can see the photos and names of people listed on it

Not unlike a cat bringing their owner a mouse, this was Childe’s form of an apology, even without the actual words being uttered.

“Choose any person from this book. I’ll bring you their head.”

Kaeya

His fingers are restless, constantly scratching the back of his hand or twisting each other

His jaw is clenched, shoulders slumped forwards as he refuses to look you in the eye

“I…I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

You knew that Kaeya had a hard time with apologizing—not because he was arrogant and thought he could do no wrong, but the emotional and physical toll it took on him was great

He often finds himself caught in a dilemma

On one hand, he has a difficult time admitting he is wrong as it forces him into a vulnerable position. To be wrong is shameful, an embarrassment.

On the other hand, he knows he fucked up. And he knows there are only a very few amount of fuck ups people let slide before they get fed up and leave.

And having you leave is not something he can afford

Kaeya’s seen this before. Faced again and again with abandonment, he knows a simple “I’m sorry” is not enough to make most people stay

But it is all he can offer

He prepares himself for the worst, but he was not prepared for the way you gently lifted his chin with your hands, a soft kiss melting away his fears

Zhongli

When you slam the door to your room, Zhongli doesn’t try to stop you

He doesn’t knock on your door, nor does he try to coax you out

He knows your type of anger—it’s like fire, and feeding premature apologies or sweet nothings would only fan the flames

So he sits outside your door until you’re ready to come out

Slips you snacks and books from under your door, in case you get hungry or bored in your anger

When you see the treats and novels slowly appear from under the door, you’re still fuming, but it’s difficult to be furious knowing your thoughtful lover is on the other side, not pushing you to calm down but trying to make you comfortable as you sit with your anger.

When you finally calm down enough to unlock the door and step outside, Zhongli is waiting

There is not a trace of annoyance on his face, but you can tell he relaxes a little from relief that you are willing to come speak with him again

Takes your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze as he apologizes for his behaviour earlier.

“Please accept my apology, my love. I never meant to hurt you.”

[shuichi-sama]

to heal with you.

park jongseong x reader, park sunghoon x reader (one sided)

description: jay offers to save you from the clutches of your one sided love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, feeling of unworthiness, cheating, idk what else.

note: lower case intended! not really proof read, bad case of bad writing, sorry! i’m a sucker for angst especially unrequited love!

_________________________________________________

“i could never tell him.” you declare to jay, who’s rubbing circles on your back to soothe your shattering heart.

you were madly in love with one of your best friend, park sunghoon, but as luck would have it those feelings weren’t reciprocated. how’d you know? it was plainly obvious. sunghoon seats a couple of tables away in the cafeteria with the girl who captivates his heart in ways you wish you could but would never.

she was everything you could never amount to be. beautiful, smart, confident, outgoing, popular, and the worse thing? the apple of sunghoon’s eyes. he truly could never see a flaw within her, not like she had one to begin with.

you on the other hand? not so much. considering yourself average in the looks department, you manage to pass classes but nothing worthy of an academic award or appraisals from those around you. you were timid, your friend only knowing of your playful personality. popularity? you knew it through sunghoon and your mutual friends, though you were never the talk of bathroom gossip.

and you certainly weren’t the apple to sunghoon’s eyes, at least not anymore like when you were kids.

you didn’t lack in the importance of his life, at least you wishfully hoped. however you currently weren’t the focus of it either, no matter how heart broken and live-less you seem to become these past few weeks, seeping worry each of your mutual friends, much like park jongseong who’s search every way to console your raging emotions but falling short no matter how hard he tried.

you know he wishes to say something to put a bandaid over your heart, but words could only do so much. you were still grateful though, his attempt never going unnoticed by you.

you were truly thankful for jay, he was your pillar these days holding you up through this stage in life, caught between the cross road of wanting to ruin your friendship with sunghoon or living with the pain of knowing he would never be yours. you knew as much as the next person, the willingness to swallow the words “i love you” like they were glass of water, only for it to turn in to needles at your throat.

“do you want me to try to bring him here? i know how much it’s bothering you seeing him there and not here.” jay tries ways to stop your heart from breaking everyday, even if it meant putting a wedge on his other friends romantic pursuit for another girl that wasn’t, y/n.

“no, there’s no use anyways, it would be pointless.” you explain, playing with the tips of your fingers in a circular motion. “you’d just be wasting your energy, only to come back empty handed.”

“i could make up and excuse, maybe tell him you’re not feeling good? we could even take you to the nurse office and pretend your sick.” jay was sweet enough to paint a scenario and plant a white lie just for your cause. you shook your head. you didn’t want to get Jay caught up in a lie, no matter how white it may be. you simply knew the outcome, and have to live with it.

“he won’t trust me.”

“yes, he will,he’s your best friend he would always come to you.” jay exclaims trying to persuade you.

“yea?” you scoff recalling memories of just a week ago, when you began to understand that sunghoon’s priorities had change enough to forget about you on an a very important day. “what kind of best friend, forgets their friendship anniversary celebration after months of planning.”

“no call, no text, no nothing.” your fingers thread through your hair in exhaustion from the painful memories of that night. you cried so much that night enough to swim in a river of your tears. “he wanted to finally teach me how to ice skate that day so I waited at the ice rink. At first i thought he was late but then 10 minutes turned into 30 and 30 turned into an hour.”

“I didn’t want to think he bailed on me, because i didn’t believe sunghoon would be capable of forgetting such an important day for the both of us, you know? so you know what i did?”

jay could feel his own rage of emotions as you continue to explain. he didn’t really want to hear the rest of it not because he feels for you, his heart hurts for you, if only it could burn for you instead, maybe then he could ease your pain as he tells you to finish your story.

“i kept waiting for two hours. my thumbs were frozen at that point. even after waiting i fooled myself to think he was still late and would show up that evening to eat. i went to the restaurant we made a reservation at. i had been telling sunghoon about it for quite a while now, he must have been grown tired of me because he reserved it despite how pricey it was. but in the end he never showed.”

“i had dinner alone that night, .” you laughed at your ridiculousness. “how stupid is that right?”

jay shook his head. “it’s not stupid at all.”

you continue, story not even remotely close to finished. “we also made plans to go get ice cream, i probably would have fooled myself to go there too if it hadn’t started raining.” and as if luck had it that night, you hadn’t brought an umbrella either. “i couldn’t believe sunghoon had forgotten, i was worried something had happened. not once did he call or text me back so i walk to his house to make sure he was okay.”

you choke back a sob wanting to escape your lips. “and when i got to his place, i saw him through his window, seating at the kitchen counter with, sana.”

finally you broke down, even in an area full of

students you couldn’t hold back anymore. your heart and brain clacking, one asking to let it all out, the other demanding to hold it back in. the throbbing feelings becoming to much, you heart winning the internal war that going on within. “he should’ve seen the way he was looking at her, jay. he looked so happy and my heart breaks knowing I could never be that kind of happiness for him.”

jay turns you around, his arms enclosing you around his. his hands coursing through your hair, pushing you into the crock his neck as you weep into it, snot and hot tears dampened the white of his shirt. jay didn’t care though.

“i ran home that night in the rain, i got sick the following day. the scab on my knee reminds me of the pain i felt that night.”

he had seen the bruising on your leg after you told him about a fall you had the previous night. jay knew too well of your sickness. he had taken care of you, being the one to bring you medicine and hot homemade soup, draped a cool towel on your forehead for your fever. though he hadn’t known the reason behind you being sick, thinking it had been nothing but a common flu.

jay can only pat your head, tears slowing down their aggression but not showing any sign of stopping only dry heaving being the aggravator. “i hate this so much, jay. i can’t no more. i truly wish i never knew love, why waste my time on something i dont deserve? maybe then i would be happy.”

jay becomes angry, but he doesn’t try to show it on his face, glossing it over with a look of sternness yet concern as he pulls you away so you can stare at his face. “hey, hey, hey, don’t ever say that okay!”

your eyes rim red, you hold his gaze. his hands cupping your cheeks making it impossible to look away if you wanted to, the warmness of his eyes don’t let you go. “don’t ever say you don’t deserve to be loved, the only people who don’t deserve any type of love are criminals and bad people, okay?

he wipes his thumbs on your cheek catching trailing tears. “just because someone isn’t in love with you right now doesn’t mean there won’t be somebody is the future, okay?”

“you are a beautiful, amazing, kind, quirky, shy and a great friend, so many lovable qualities and anyone would be lucky to be in love with you.” jay praising you warms the coldest parts of your heart, melting the ice that had built around it.

you sniffled. “but sunghoon won’t ever be sunghoon.”

jay turns to look at sunghoon, his soft stare hardening just at a glance of his friend for lacking a seventh sense. how could he not see what was right in front of him? he turns back to you, eyes soft once again. “sunghoon is too blind to see what’s in front of him, baby.”

“it just hurts, jay, i want this feeling to be gone.” you clench what anyone would assume is your sweater, though the initials, P.S.H, writing on the tag on the back of your neck says otherwise. “i’ve tried to get rid of it, this dark feeling.”

“i know, baby, i know.” jay can only sigh.

“sunoo said to try dating even if i don’t have an interest in them, so i’ve gone on dates, countless of them.”

“even if i don’t have any feelings for them i try hoping that these feelings for sunghoon would go away. but how can i date someone i don’t even know? let alone if i’m not interested in them? it would be different if i at least knew them, you know? at least i would be comfortable around them. i can’t even think of a second date, one the first one isn’t even finish.”

you sigh for the infinite time this week. it’s like an bad re-occurring habit of yours lately, it wasn’t healthy in the slightest. “I’m just exhausted, tired of giving my time of day to guys who don’t even truly try to get to know me, most of them are just guys trying to get into my pants at the end of the day.”

“sorry, i’m drama dumping on you again, jay you must be so tired of me.” your head wants to hang lose, but his hands prevent you from doing so.

jay shakes his head no. “no, baby, i could never grow tired of you, y/n.”

the smile you flash him genuine, but it doesn’t quite your eyes. “thank you jay, for always being there for me.”

“I’ll always help you, y/n. so let me help you again.”

“what do you mean?” You asked confused.

“date me, y/n.” just as hot tears ascend on your face yet again, they are halted by his words.

at first, jay had caught himself of guard with his own words but as he thinks about it in his head, it only seems to makes more sense.

if there was someone else yearning for your happiness, other than you, was jay. you meant a great deal to him as a friend so he though, if not him than who to help you move on?

“what? jay, are you listening to yourself? you know i like sunghoon.” bewilderment written all over your face.

yes, he knows you didn’t have to explain it to him. “i know you do, but it’s like you said, if you only try with someone you knew you would feel more comfortable right? you could move on.”

you shook your head, it being incapable of wrapping itself around jay’s idea. “jay, you don’t even like me that.”

“i know, it doesn’t mean i can’t learn to.”

your body grows frigid and jay can feel it in the palm of his hands cupping your cheek. you’re in utter disbelief at his words. providing that jay is one of your closest friend, now more than ever, if you hadn’t known him you would assuming the boy was joking with you.

his aura being intimidating and so handsome you’d think he’d be some type of playboy. he was the complete opposite of what he seemed. the definition of looks like he could kill is you, is a cinnamon roll. a very sweet one at that. you’d gain more than one cavity.

aside from sweet, handsome, he was kind, respect, a balance between outgoing and introverted when need be. attentive to every needs, including that of his friends and family, as of lately yours. In the dictionary, under the word perfect and boyfriend, you would be sure to find his name writing in bold letter, PARK JONGSEONG. You were sure of it, but would you be willing to risk this safety net of friendship you have with Jay just for your own benefit, to be able to move on from this unrequited love?

you’re quiet state allows jay to perceive your face longer, dried tears on your face, your mascara smudge at the corner of your eyes. he wipes his fingers over it, wiping it clean to the best of his ability. he doesn’t relent on his words to convince you.

“if it’s any concelation, im doing this for myself too.” your head tilts, in question, unsure of what benefit he could get out of courting you. entertainment? No way, never. jay wasn’t like that, he would never. from what jay has told you, when he dates, he dates to commit.

“i haven’t told you this, you’ve probably heard know i haven’t dated anyone in about a year.” jay explains.

jay was quite popular among school, female and male crowd alike. rumors of jay being single ropes plenty of beautiful people to his feet, but he never paid any mind to any of them even after a year when the rumors of him being single began to spread. “i had a girlfriend, we were together for about three years, we were young but i truly thought she was the one. i even started to consider marriage just fresh out of high school, stupid I know right?” you shake your head no.

jay chuckles recalling his last memories of his last relationship and the scar they left within him. “well I thought I was because after giving her three years of my time, i found her sleeping with my own brother.”

your heart breaks all over again, this time not for sunghoon but for the man in front of you, park jongseong. “they were seeing each other behind my back for a whole year.”

to say you were discombobulated at the revelation would be an understatement. no words could describe just how muddled you felt at the idea of someone cheating on jay. he who was loyal, a kind soul, emotionally available, a good listener, honest, respectful every trait that you could think of that makes a boyfriend the greenest of green flags. if anyone deserved happiness and love it was him.

“what? jay-“ you try to speak, to comfort, console him like he has done with you plenty of time’s but he stops you. he has had plenty of time to mourn relationship that only brought him pain, but he still lives with the scars. maybe it was time for a change, to find someone he could share not only his troubles but also his ideas of love.

“let me finish please.” he pleads, so you let him. “i was angry, i hated them, for doing this to me, for lying, breaking my heart.”

“i hated myself for that matter. i let myself love so hard that i became blind to see the signs that were right in front of me. i hated myself for wasting those three years on her.” as he incriminates himself you want to stop him becoming angry at his words, yet respecting his wishes. your eyes never lose contact with his, not even for a second. “but no matter how much i think back to it i would still do it all over again because i learned that i’m worthy of love and that i deserve the purest form of it. i simply hadn’t found the perfect person who could possibly understand me, til i found you.”

“i have a lot of love to give, just like you, baby, so give me yours and i’ll give you mine. and then maybe we can learn to love each other and heal from these scars we have together.”

these revelations show you a jay you had never known. he was always the life of the party a smile gracing his intricate details, carrying himself with confidence and living life gracefully.

your heart hurts him, like his hurts for you.

“jay-“ your throat is hoarse and you lick your lips dry lips wet to talk. “i just don’t want you to feel like i’m pressuring you into this. i know I’m hurting now but it’s not enough for me to say yes to force you into a relationship that may come from nothing, you’d waste your time trying to learn to love me, what if our feelings never change?”

“then at least we can say we tried.” he responds. “you’re not pressuring me. and you’re never a waste of time to me, y/n, you never are.” he gives you a tight smile on his.

jay knew the possibility of nothing coming out of them dating, he also understood of the risk of something actually coming out of it- what if only one of them truly falls in love, what if they both fell in love with each other other but weren’t each others happy ending in the long run? so many possibilities were endless. who were they not to try though? weren’t you both already suffering from heart break? what’s one more?

“i know something could possibly not come out of it, or something possibly could, many possibilities. i’m willing to try, y/n, the question is are you?”

your line of thought is intent of not risking a friendship. a relationship formed of similar characteristics of failed love, one of disloyalty, another of unrequited love, could this one also end in failure?

sharing heart break caused by important people in their lives, jay and you, found solace and support from each other. truly who were you to say no? why not try to mend two heart that ache to be loved similarly. both understanding of the agony of those who were too blind to see what was right in front of them, two people full of love and ready to serve it on a silver platter only to be taken for granted.

you weren’t sure of the future, could jay be your happy ending? could you be his? you’d never know unless you tried.

“okay.” you agreed, not yielding to your brain or your heart, instead you choose to listen to the man in front of you who’s trusting you with his own.

“yea?” he asks for confirmation, a feeling of liberation already settling in. jay knew he deserved love, now he just had to show you deserved it too.

“yes, let’s try together.” you reassure him. not believing you were worthy of love, you still don’t but you would gladly learn from him and in return you would give him the love he seeks.

“yes, let’s try together.”

jay smiles. it’s soft on his features, reassuring that from now on, his purpose was to make you happy and you him.

he leads your turned body forward, showering your body in his comfort without much effort. his arms drape just tight enough to support your body closely, like you could let go any moment, take back your word and he would let you. silence lingers around you only the chattering of students around the campus and the full spring breeze kissing the dampness of your face.

you break the quietude. the silence overbearing your already intrusive thoughts. Coming back in full circle rubbing your back much like before, this time not of sadness but of hope to possibly seeing a happy you in the near future. jay listens to your concerns keenly, precisely as the beginning of it all, the day you officially opened to anyone aside from your girl-friends about sunghoon and the undying love you feel for him.

“i’m scared, jay. what if I waver as soon as I see him?” you stay attached together.

he knew it would be tough, your situations being different from his. jay’s ex-girlfriend at a different side of town while sunghoon roams the same halls as you, the both of you sharing the same mutual friends, you house filled with memories with him.

your love for sunghoon is fresh. it runs deeps into your heart, like a fresh wound that if submerged under water it stings. even after it resurface, the feelings lingers and prolongs til it turns into a scab during it’s absence. only for it to peel off at his appearance, the stinging feeling being relived all over again til it finally heals after a long time.

jay back tracks on his words, before he could spill them. eyes hardening at the movement he follows. his heart dropping, he doesn’t let it deter him. his fingers stroke soft trails down your soft strands.

“don’t worry, i got you.” he says, putting you at ease with his words.

he is relieved your back is turned. the very man that haunts every fiber of your body by his mere presence is getting up from the very table he had perched himself for the past hour, chatting away with the crowd among it, attentively engaging with the girl, you have become envious off, itching to be in her spot next to sunghoon.

sunghoon makes his way to your direction. jay avoids making any eye contact by pulling away from you taking your face in his hands again. your cheeks and eyes puffed out from your crying, red tainting the rounded corners of your face.

sunghoon greets passers-by who recognize him drawing nearer to your table causing jay heart to quicken at an ungodly rate, they meet eyes and sunghoon waves. heart torn between his actions and his words.

he’s told you he’s got you, he won’t be letting you down. “do you trust me?”

trust, faith, reliance words you could associate with jay. you’d trust him with your life and that was a given. never challenging you to question his choices and action, today wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

it only takes a nod for jay to decide.

his dark eyes cast downward starting at your eyes, to the tip your nose and ending at your lips. they are pouty, the balm you glossed over previously nowhere in sight. jay can’t help but imagine his lips on yours. the thought of intimacy by placing a kiss on them thrills him, not having the pleasure to feel the lips of another in so long after his last breakup. just the idea feels foreign to him, nonetheless nervousness courses the blue of his veins.

he knew there would be no turning back after this. lines would be crossed, and risks will be taken. in spite of his racing thoughts and his palpating heart, he finds himself leaning forward, eyes fluttering close, to kiss you.

the breaths you had taken before stolen by his sudden action. his warm and soft lips tender on your own, lips unmoving. you didn’t pull away, and hyper aware of the closeness of his face, you practically count the short lashes of his eyes.

withdrawing himself away from you, his eyes open to look into yours that were staring right back at him. left speechless, you were unaware of the figure standing not even 3 steps away.

it wasn’t long til you look away bashfully, looking anywhere but jay. only then noticing sunghoon, who had witness the kiss that had just been exchange by the both of you. your heart that was previously unsettling, thumping against your ears and chest because of jay, now replaced by a sinking feeling to your stomach at the presence of sunghoon.

his silence was louder than any words given that moment.

sunghoon eyes dances between the both you. a perplexing feeling wrapping around his throat and choking him of his words.

to many questions plague the tip of his tongue.

when did you become so close with jay? were you both dating now? why didn’t he know? why didn’t you ever tell him? have you been blowing him off because of jay this whole time? if he grew angry at the thought, he didn’t show it. he looks directly at you noticing your quiet demeanor.

“hey, hoon.” the sound of jay’s voice reaching his ears pulls him from he’s endless thought’s, noticing just how quiet he was since he planted himself in front of the table you and jay occupied together.

“hey, uh” sunghoon didn’t even know what to say, so he reframes from saying anything only asking the obvious questions he should be asking. “so, the two of you?”

“yea.” jay glances at you, eyes still glued on sunghoon figure. he turns back to sunghoon, hiding his true feelings behind a plastic shy smile. “we are together.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” he looks at you for an answer, but you remain voiceless. jay understands the difficulty you are in. it’s as if you were in the spotlight of a stage and someone just threw cold water on you.

jay take’s it upon himself to answer sunghoon instead. “i guess can say today is day one.”

“oh, congratulations.” is the only thing sunghoon can think to say, his head still trapped in limbo trying to make sense of everything. he pushes it to the back of his head, he’s two best friend dating, he should be happy for them, he was.

sunghoon beams a smile at you both. “really guys, i’m happy for you, congrats.”

those words were the last words to your heart into a million pieces. but you were thankful for them. allowing you to close the chapter that was park sunghoon, and opening a brand new one with park jongseong.

jay who’s hand grasps your own now, gives it a small squeeze, telling you he was by your. giving you the courage you desperately needed.

you lean into jay, grabbing his hand to pull his arm flushed against your front one hand still entwined with his, you fake it with a smile. “thank you, hoonie, i really needed to hear you say that.”

[chiefdirector]

Earthquake | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Earthquakes were nothing unfamiliar to the residents of Los Angeles, so much so that if there was a period of time without a quake, it would be seen as some form of miracle or divine intervention. After having many quakes and natural disasters, you adjust. Tim never had to adjust to the infamous LA earthquakes, he was born and raised here. Something like a quake was just another Tuesday to him.

Before he would have scoffed seeing his colleagues so disturbed by the idea of a quake, but now he felt sick to his stomach. He could feel the nausea rise up his throat as he called out over the radio again, hoping that his fears would be satiated.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-100. Status report in Detective (L/N).” He said, trying not to let his voice shake as the ground did moments ago. “Control-“

He was cut off by the gruff reply of some poor control officer who would no doubt feel the wrath of Sargent Bradford. “No reply. Detective (Y/N) is currently unreachable.”

Quickly, he raised the radio back up, this time practically barking his question out. “When was the last time you had contact?”

Tim held his breath as the radio remained silent for a moment. He did not believe in anything supernatural but by god did it feel like time stopped.

“Over an hour ago; at 15:42.”

“Goddammit,” he snapped, almost throwing his radio across the briefing room.

Seeing his rage, Chen sidestepped away from his current line of trajectory, quite liking her head without a radio sized dent in it.

The first quake had hit at approximately 15:47. Tim knew what (Y/N)’s silence implied. He tried not to think of the worst case scenario, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t used to nice things, he wasn’t used to being happy and now that he had finally found joy and happiness, it was only natural that the universe would take it away again.

“Tim,” Chen said timidly. If Tim did not know any better, he could have mistaken her for a child in the way she was slightly cowered away from her. “I had control send her last location to our box, we can go now. I’m sure Grey won’t mind.”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, channelling almost all of his energy into the task ahead of him. The small fraction of energy he left aside was to stop him from assuming the worst; thinking of all the horrific outcomes would do him no good.

—-

Tim was never one to spend time with his feelings, if anything he repressed them. When he was a kid, his father used to tell him that emotions were weak, and that ‘real men don’t feel.’ He had taken that mindset into the military, and into the LAPD. It was only when (Y/N) had started to break down his walls did he let himself feel emotions properly for the first time in years. It was like seeing colour for the first time. However, despite all the good it did him, he couldn’t help regretting it slightly as he sat in the passenger seat of the shop, watching Chen drive closer to when (Y/N) was last seen.

“Can’t you drive quicker, Chen,” He snapped, flickering his eyes from her to the road and back to the patrol officer once again.

“Not without breaking fifty traffic laws,” She rebutted. Now that he wasn’t her training officer any more, she would have given him a bit more attitude but now isn't the right time for that, even she could recognise that. “We’re nearly there, the GPS said that her shop was last seen…”

Chen’s words trailed off as the two officers watched as a car wrapped around a tree came into view. The front was completely smashed, with glass and shrapnel landing almost everywhere. There was a small trail of smoke coming from the engine. The car was easily recognisable as one of the LAPD patrol vehicles, the exact same type that Detective (L/N) had left the station in that morning.

Without thinking, Tim sprinted out of the vehicle whilst it was still moving. Without waiting for Chen to stop, he moved with near inhuman speed towards the wreckage. Trying to see if there was any sign of life from within.

“(Y/N)” he called, looking in through the shattered window. Blood was spread across the steering wheel and the driver's seat, glass haphazardly brushed aside from the spot. Tim recognised her handbag tucked in the passenger footwell. IT was the only sign that she had been in the car at all. “Please, baby, say you're here.”

“Any luck?” Chen said, jogging over to his side. Tim needn’t respond though, the tragic look on his face said enough. “Oh god, she isn’t… is she?”

Bradford just shook his head “There’s nobody here. Completely empty. Call it in.”

Lucy nodded, taking a step away to report what had been found. Tim just sat leaned against the car. Briefly he shut his eyes, trying to ground himself back to reality. A part of him wanted to pinch himself to wake up from this nightmare, but another part of him knew that it wasn’t a dream at all.

Slowly, he began to move himself upwards when he heard a rustling in the shrubbery. On instinct, he raised his weapon, calling out for the intruder to raise their hands. He got no such reply except another round of rustling, except it didn’t sound like it was caused by the wind, it sounded too human-like to be anything natural.

Keeping his paces light, he followed the sound as made his way into the shrubbery. He made it only around twenty feet before he saw the cause of the rustling. (Y/N) lay leaned up against a tree, dried blood sat on her forehead and down her left cheek. The rest of her face seemed like it had already started to swell and bruise from the impact. The most jarring thing was not the injuries or the dirt decorating her body, but it was the light-hearted gratin she wore.

“Hey Timmy,” she said, voice light and airy, as if he had woken up early on a sunday morning and not that she had almost died.

“(Y/N),” he practically cried rushing to her side. He gently cradled her face, trying to get a better look at the gash on her forehead from where she had slammed into the steering wheel. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She flashed him another grin as she raised her hand to rest on top of his. “I’m fine, mildly concussed maybe, but I’ll live. And the car crashed, I was knocked off the road when the quake hit. There was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“Why didn't you call for help, do you know how worried I was?”

“My radio is in the car, which was on fire by the way.” She said, almost too lightheartedly for the situation, before her tone turned sombre, “I’m sorry I worried you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Just don’t do it again, I don’t think my heart could take it.”

Ignoring her protests that she could walk by herself, he moved to pick her up bridal style and carry her back to his shop, where Chen was waiting for him. Sure, he was prepared for an earthquake, but Tim wasn't prepared to lose (Y/N), not now, not ever.

Masterlist

@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE FINAL SHOW

A/N: last night was a rollercoaster of emotions and i still can't believe love on tour is over, but it will always have a special place in my heart. one thing is for sure, im sill here and i will continue writing for this amazing human until he returns onto the stage where he belongs.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: You made a promise in the beginning of Love On Tour and now it's catching up with you and though your heart wants you to keep your word, you know it's not that easy, because it's about your boss, the person who matters the most to you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You should have learned by now that Harry Styles never forgets.

He remembers every birthday, anniversary, every story anyone tells him, he remembers fans he has interacted with and he is extremely good with names. It’s definitely one thing you admire about him.

But know this tiny detail about him did not teach you to watch what you say around him, because he will recite your words even years later.

It’s been an on and off tango between the two of you for a long time. As his assistant, you’ve been dancing on the line of being professional and jumping into his bed whenever he does as so much as looking at you with those stupid, gorgeous eyes. He is your job, you keep telling that to yourself, but deep down you know he is more than just that.

He is… everything.

It would be easier if he only saw you as his assistant, but that’s not the case. Just how you caught those certain feelings, Harry has shown interest towards you, on several occasions, flirting with you bluntly, asking you out every possible chance.

And each time, when you turned down, a voice in your head screamed at you, but your rationality has been stronger so far and it hasn’t let you take that leap that would change everything forever.

Now, back to his immaculate memory.

You’d been working for him for over a year when the first European leg of Love On Tour was about to start, the residency shows were set to be announced and along with the South American, Australian and Asian dates and another full European leg was in the planning phase. Tour was looking endless and everyone on the team was joking that there won’t be a final show of Love On Tour.

Following another meeting in Harry’s LA home you were hanging out by his pool, something that happened quite often, because he liked to share what he had with the people around him. The sun was setting and you both had several glasses of wine, so the business talk has been long forgotten when you ordered food for the two of you.

You were in the shallow, lounge area of the pool where you could sit in the water and you were enjoying a hamburger while he was swimming around, watching you. You caught him looking right in the middle of a huge bite.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he swam closer with a grin on his face.

“You look amazing.”

You snorted out loud, mouth full and probably smelling like onions.

“I’m sure I do,” you sarcastically said. “Is this what turns you on? Chewing and onion smell?”

“No. It’s you.”

You stopped and gave him a suspicious look. He moved over and sat beside you.

“You turn me on, Y/N,” he added, when you didn’t say anything, just leisurely staring back at you, as if he hadn’t just overstepped a major boundary between boss and employee.

“Harry, stop,” you mumbled, putting the remainder of your burger to the plate at the edge of the pool.

“What? You started it with guessing what turns me on.”

“It was just a joke!”

“Okay, and I told you the truth.”

“You definitely shouldn’t be saying shit like that to me.”

“Too late, already did, so I think we could take it even further,” he shrugged and you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Oh, you are something else, Harry Styles, you know that?”

“That didn’t sound like a no to me,” he grinned, moving just a tad bit closer, but still respecting your private space. “I really want to kiss you, Y/N,” he bluntly added and you knew it was the wine talking from him, sober Harry wouldn’t have said those words out loud, but it didn’t fail to make you feel dizzy and weak.

“That’s not gonna happen now,” you shook your head.

“Okay, if not now, then when?”

“You are so annoying,” you laughed again. “You know what? You can kiss me when Love On Tour officially ends,” you joked.

It was a genuine joke. Anyone would have known you didn’t mean it, but it was Harry you said it to and the moment the words left your mouth they burned into his memories forever.

“Alright then,” he simply said, splashed you and then swam away.

That was the beginning of 2022. You slept off the wine and though you never forgot you said it, you didn’t keep track of the promise you initially made.

Harry did, however.

Not one day went by without him thinking about those words and it was the only reason he was looking forward for the very last show of Love On Tour.

He’s been acting weird, probably since about Vienna. With two weeks until the end of tour and his break, your workload hasn’t gotten less so you couldn’t really care about his weirdness, but when you’re out for dinner in Barcelona with the band and some other crew members and two rounds of drinks have been consumed already, you finally acknowledge the change.

“Hey, you alright?” You poke your elbow into his side, stealing a fry from his plate. Shrugging, he pushes the plate closer to you.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” you ask, snacking on his leftover fries.

“The end of tour.”

Freezing you instantly remember to that one conversation in his pool. You peek at him and find him already looking at you with a gaze that burns right into your heart. Clearing your throat you turn back to the fries and pretend like you don’t remember the promise you made.

“Just two more weeks and you’re free.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

“Mmm,” you hum, but don’t dare to look at him. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, but luckily, before he could bring up anything specific Mitch call out his name from across the table and you’re relieved. For now.

It’s almost midnight when you all head back to the hotel and you and Harry somehow end up at the back of the group. The elevator is too full for the two of you to get in as well, so you wait for another round. While you’re still ignoring to look at him, he is very much only looking at you, it feels like.

The elevator returns and you get inside, but Harry pushes the button for the top floor.

“Hey, that’s—“

“I want to show you something,” he hold up a hand.

The top of the hotel has a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city, the perfect grid of the streets, it’s breathtaking.

“I knew you would like it,” he smiles, leaning against the railing next to you, with his back towards the view, as if he was way more interested in seeing you than the city.

“Because you know me so well,” you chuckle softly.

“I do,” he answers quietly. “We have only four more shows.”

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes glued to the view in front of you.

“The final show of Love On Tour is in ten days.”

“I’m glad you keep track of the shows so well, I feel like I’m not even needed anymore,” you joke with a chuckle, but when you finally look at him you know why he is bringing all of these up.

“Do you remember what you promised would happen when the last show finally comes?”

“Harry…”

“You do,” he simply says. “I know you as someone who keeps her word.”

“It’s… Harry, that was never a promise, I was just joking!”

“None of it is a joke to me, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, but hate the effect his words have on you. Like your whole inside is on fire, begging to just give in finally, to end this years long game and act on the feelings you’ve been pushing down so hard all this time.

Sighing you cross your arms over your chest. You want to make fun out of it again and say that it was all just about a kiss, but you know, you both know that it would never stop at one kiss, that it’s bigger than that and it would consume you fully if you let your walls down.

“This seems like a big mistake,” you tell him honestly. “What if it goes wrong and… I lose my job… and you.”

Your voice breaks at the end and you can’t look him in the eyes. You’ve spent endless nights thinking about what would happen if you gave in and it all went downhill. Your job might be the last thing on the list of worries, what really scares you is to imagine a version of your life without him because.

It would break you.

“Being scared of the wrong outcome will keep you away from the best things in your life, Y/N.”

“Did you just call yourself the best thing in my life?” you try to joke, but he just gives you a look.

“Don’t think about the what ifs, if you get there, you’ll figure it out. You always do. We always do.”

“This is not that simple,” you shake your head. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“But it is,” he chuckles, but you keep shaking your head. “Figuring out my feelings has never been this simple.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence when not even you know whether you’re about to give in or not and for a split second it actually feels like you’re breaking, but something pulls you back last minute.

“No. And we should be heading back, you have a show tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

You step away from the railing and start walking back, but when you notice that he’s not coming you turn around and see him staring at the city this time. Opening your mouth you’re about to call out for him, but then change your mind and let him be, walking back to your room.

When you see him again in the morning he doesn’t bring it up again and you’re convinced he won’t bring your promise up again.

The last show has everyone all over the place, you’ve been running around since about six in the morning, picking up people, making sure the hotel check-ins go smoothly and everything is exactly how it should be. The day feels like a whole week, but the excitement and bittersweet sadness that’s been wrapped around everyone is what keeps you up on your feet still.

But the real weight of the last show hits the moment it finally starts.

This is the time when you have nothing to do so you watch Harry perform every night, meaning that this is the 169th time you’re seeing him take the stage and perform just as perfectly as he did at the first, the fiftieth and one hundredth show. He always gives his absolute most. Not just at his shows, but in his life as well. That’s one of the million reasons you fell for him.

Medicine has everyone dying, all 100 thousand people out there and then Harry starts giving his speech that’s extra long this time, talking about how grateful he is for everything, for his fans, his friends and family and it’s one big emotional mess and you can’t help but cry a bit as well, watching from the side.

“The last two years of my life, the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for…”

“I see it, the love, in how it’s affected all the people around me, continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour.”

“I love you, thank you so much.”

Screaming rolls over the crowd as an answer and you expect him to go on with starting As It Was, but then he starts talking again.

“There is one more thing I want to say tonight. I have learned and experienced so much in the past years. I will be forever thankful for the memories we’ve made.”

There. He said we, he switched up his narrative. That’s how you know he is not talking to the crowd. He is talking to you.

“If this is it, if it never goes beyond this, I would live a happy life. With you forever in my heart. But if we ever take it further, if we ever take the risk and reach for the stars and we might fall… just know that I will always be here for you. You can never lose me. No matter what. I love you.”

You suck on your breath, covering your mouth with your hand as you stare at him stand in the middle of the stage, staring out ahead of him, the crowd screaming for him, oblivious to the one sided conversation that just happened between you and him.

As It Was starts and the show carries on towards the end, but you’re still frozen in that moment and when the show ends and you watch Harry drop to his knees on the stage, you know things will never be the same.

Backstage is like a tornado once the show is over, the band walks off the stage and Harry is following right behind with Lloyd by his side, but when he sees you standing still in the middle of the madness, he drops out of the conversation right away and stops a few feet away from you, letting you decide where to go now.

“You promise?” you breathe out, your throat closing up. “You promise I will never lose you?”

“I thought that was clear by now, Y/N,” he replies, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. “But if you need me to actually say it, I will. You will never lose me, no matter what. It will always be you and me and I know you’re scared, but I’m—“

He doesn’t get to finish, because you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him.

It doesn’t matter that the whole crew bursts out into screaming and whistling, that you’re giving a second show with the way you get lost in each other, because in your little bubble it’s just you and Harry and everything that’s been building between the two of you.

Every joke, every teasing comment, all the stolen looks and suppressed feeling that was never acted on is now free, they all burst out of your chest and into the electricity that’s snaking around you as you keep taking more and more of him, hungry to make up for the past years.

The clapping dies down when you finally pull back, forehead resting against his, his hands holding you so tight as if he was afraid you might run away any moment.

“You kept your promise. I knew you were trusty, Y/N Y/L/N,” he chuckles, pecking your lips softly again as you laugh at his words, finally opening your eyes to look at him.

“Actually I feel like I kissed you. I promised you could kiss me, so technically—“

“Shut up, you’re already getting on my nerves,” he laughs, kissing you over and over again, so your promise is actually fulfilled. “Can’t wait for you to do that every day for the rest of my life.”

“I thought that was part of my job too, have I not been doing that?” you tease, lips moving against his as you speak.

“You have, but you can take it to a whole new level now,” he laughs, pulling you against him before letting you go and popping the bubble, though his hand never lets go of yours, not while everyone congratulates him, not when the final show celebrations start and not when he pulls you into his hotel room to end this journey of Love On Tour with you by his side, but also start a new chapter.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee

Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33

Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!

The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.

You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.

‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.

‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.

Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.

This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.

They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.

So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.

‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.

‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.

Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.

‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.

‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.

The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’

‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.

‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.

‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.

‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.

You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.

[besosquecreanadiccion]

Buddie fic recs:

I've been wanting to do my own list of my favorite fics for a while now so here it goes (in no particular order):

- my words are paper tigers by @hattalove (this ones my favorite of them and i'd say a little underrated maybe?) TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP - buck breaks up with eddie, the universe doesnt agree - ITS PERFECT I'VE READ IT FOR THE FIRST TIME SO LONG AGO AND ITS STILL ONE OF MY FAVORITES EVER.

- Actually, truly by MilenaDaniels Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns. (Or: "Mom, listen.")

- burn the straw house down by rarakiplin - what to even say i think everyone has read this one already but just in case TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP

- Happy Little Accidents by @like-the-rest-of-la - one of the first au i ever read for buddie and i was so ENCHANTED what to even say, buck owns a plant nursery. Its just so soft and so so so beautiful.

- said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by @hattalove - another fave of them. Many weddings and buddie in the middle of it all.

- Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HSMLusitania - i think everyone and their mother has read this one aswell but just in case EDDIE DISPATCHER.

- Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by Watermelonshots - this is a series and jesus christ it literally starts with a buddie drunk make out session so-

- Sit with me in the dark by @kitkatpancakestack - buck loses his vision- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Soft and kind and yeah beautiful and buck glasses kink anyone?.

- Lifelines by @hetrez . This fic is literally a lifeline - buck and eddie meet during the tsunami and talk about being in the closet. I have no words for how much this fic meabs to me. FLAWLESS.

- about the present by @runawaymarbles - this is a series now and god this was so so fucking special and unique - the first part eddie in the aftermath of being in a timeloop of the shooting. The second one is buck handling it on his own way. PERFECTION. Still thinking about it.

- a good day to be by @hetrez Eddie is a dance instructor, buck needs dance clases for madneys wedding. As flawless as the other one. Eddie Diaz needs a hug yeah.

- we'll be forever, you'll see by rarakiplin - Eddie Diaz finds a cat and heals and heals. And is so loved. I think i cried the first time i finished this one.

- still by @gayhoediaz - once again i think everyone knows this one but just in case, eddie steps on a detonator. ANGSTS SO MUCH ANGSTS AND THAT ENDING YEAH.

- but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by @captain-hen - eddie confesses his feelings, buck rejects him, TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP

- authentication by @vgreysoncellars - i think i described this one as a never ending extention of 7x06 like nights abd just pride and pride and liberation. Eddie picks guys in bars for buck to make out with...

- oh, come when you're called by @lesbianrobin CHRIS 💘 no other words needed i think

- i'm a cliché (who cares) by @cranberrymoons UFF THIS ONE MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL - eddie realizes stuff and buck is there every step of the way.

- bark like you want it by @colonoscopys - SOULMATES AU so so funny and wholesome.

- the love triptych by @cranberrymoons - this ones just so freaking special to me. Helena trying and trying and trying cause she loves her son. And buddie together through it all.

- so much left in store by @lesbianrobin - UNI AU UNI AU UNI AU !!!!!!! AND VERY IMPORTANT BABY CHRIS💘

- hang me up on your bedroom wall by @eddiegettingshot WELL buck just wants (more) but only if eddie gets him pregnant about it... (infidelity fic)

- close ain't close enough (til we cross the line) by @cranberrymoons buddie sexting buddie sexting buddie sexting and being so so freaking insane and not normal about it. (Infidelity fic)

- throw a bone, i’m finally home by @shitouttabuck - i think everyone knows the like a dog verse by now (come on lol) but yeah i'm very very obsessed especially with the second part of it.

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 6

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of their apartment, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The soft light highlighted the simple, yet cozy space they had made their own—a sanctuary that was their little world, hidden from the eyes of everyone else. Knox was still asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, blissfully unaware of the tension building between his parents.

YN stood near the window, her back turned to Azriel, arms crossed over her chest. Her posture was stiff, her shoulders tense as she stared out at the city, her reflection barely visible in the glass. Azriel could feel the frustration radiating off her in waves, and he knew that this conversation was inevitable. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

He had taken the week off, needing to be with his family, needing to be with her. After overhearing Cassian and Mor talk about their little spying expedition on YN, he had made the decision quickly, without hesitation. But now, as he watched YN’s back, he wondered if he had acted too impulsively.

“Why did you do it, Azriel?” YN’s voice broke the silence, cutting through the stillness of the morning. It was calm, but there was an edge to it—one that Azriel recognized all too well. She was holding back, trying to keep her emotions in check, but he knew she was upset. “Why did you take the week off?”

Azriel let out a slow breath, his wings rustling slightly as he stepped closer to her. “I wanted to be here with you and Knox,” he answered, keeping his voice steady. “After everything that’s happened, I thought you could use the support. I wanted to make sure you both were safe.”

She turned around to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else—something that looked a lot like hurt. “Safe?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “Azriel, we’re not in immediate danger. You’re acting like I can’t take care of myself and our son without you hovering over us.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Azriel replied quickly, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He was protective—maybe too protective, especially now that their lives were more complicated than ever. He crossed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to take hers, but she stepped back, putting more space between them.

“Isn’t it?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “You’re here because you don’t trust me to handle things on my own. You’re here because you think you need to shield us from everything—even from your own family. But Azriel, I can’t live like this. We can’t live like this, constantly looking over our shoulders, constantly hiding.”

Her words hit him hard, and he knew she was right. But it didn’t change the fact that he felt this deep, unrelenting need to protect her, to protect Knox, to be there every moment in case something went wrong. The thought of losing them—of anything happening to them—was more than he could bear.

“YN, I’m not trying to smother you,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with the desperation he felt. “I just… I need to be sure. After what happened yesterday, after knowing they were watching you—I can’t just leave you both alone and hope everything will be fine.”

Her eyes softened slightly at his words, the anger ebbing away, replaced by a sadness that made Azriel’s heart ache. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as if trying to gather her thoughts before she spoke again.

“Azriel,” she said more gently, “I understand why you feel the way you do. I do. But this… this isn’t sustainable. We can’t keep living in fear, can’t keep reacting to what might happen. We need to trust each other, trust that we can handle things—even when you’re not here.”

Azriel’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He knew she was right, but it was so hard to let go of that instinct, the one that told him he needed to be there every moment to protect them. He had been living on the edge for so long, constantly aware of the dangers lurking in the shadows, that he didn’t know how to step back and just… breathe.

“I do trust you,” he said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “I trust you more than anyone, YN. But I’ve spent centuries living in a world where letting your guard down, even for a moment, can cost you everything. I’m sorry if I’m overbearing—I just can’t lose you. I can’t lose our son.”

YN’s expression softened further, the tension in her posture easing slightly as she stepped closer to him. She reached out, her hand resting against his chest, right over his heart. “You won’t lose us,” she said firmly, looking up at him with a gaze full of determination. “But you have to let us live, Azriel. We can’t keep hiding in the shadows like this. I need you to believe that we can handle this—together.”

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch as he absorbed her words. She was right, of course. YN had always been strong, far stronger than he sometimes gave her credit for. And Knox—he was still so small, but Azriel knew his son would grow up to be just as strong. They didn’t need him to shield them from the world; they needed him to stand beside them, to be their partner, not their protector.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, opening his eyes to meet hers. “I’ll try to do better. I promise.”

She smiled at him then, a small but genuine smile that made the tightness in his chest ease just a little. “That’s all I ask,” she said softly, her hand moving up to cup his cheek. “We’re in this together, Azriel. Always.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the simple act grounding him, reminding him of what truly mattered. “Always,” he echoed, his voice filled with a quiet resolve.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, the tension between them slowly dissipating. Outside, the sun continued to rise, bathing the room in warmth and light, as if to remind them that there was still hope, still a future to be had, as long as they faced it together.

In the crib beside them, Knox let out a small whimper, his tiny wings fluttering as he stirred from his sleep. YN pulled back from Azriel with a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling with affection as she turned to their son. “Looks like someone’s awake,” she murmured, moving over to the crib to pick Knox up.

Azriel watched her, his heart swelling with love as she cradled their son in her arms. Knox blinked up at her, his small mouth forming a perfect little ‘O’ as he looked between his parents. Azriel stepped closer, wrapping an arm around YN’s waist as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Knox’s head.

“We’ll be okay,” YN said quietly, more to herself than to him, as she rocked Knox gently in her arms. But Azriel heard the conviction in her voice, the belief that they would find a way through this—together. And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe it too.

---

River House was alive with activity as the Inner Circle gathered in the spacious sitting room. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting warm pools of light across the room’s plush furniture. Cassian was sprawled in one of the armchairs, his wings half-draped over the sides, while Rhys sat opposite him, leaning casually against the backrest of a couch. Mor and Feyre were nearby, quietly sipping their tea, and Amren was perched on the window sill, her sharp eyes watching everyone with mild disinterest.

As usual, the meeting started casually, with updates on Velaris, news from the courts, and the usual banter. But something was different this morning, an undercurrent of curiosity running through the group. Azriel’s absence was becoming more noticeable, especially given his sudden declaration of taking a week off—a rare occurrence.

"So, does anyone else find it weird that Azriel's taking a week off?" Cassian said, breaking the silence. He shifted in his seat, his brow furrowed with a mix of concern and confusion. “I can’t remember the last time that happened. Not without a reason.”

Rhys’s violet eyes flickered with amusement, but there was a hint of curiosity as well. "It’s not like him," he admitted, his voice smooth. "Azriel rarely takes time for himself. He’s always working, always looking for the next mission or lead. But a whole week off? That’s new."

Mor nodded in agreement, her lips quirking in a small smile. “Maybe he finally realized he needs a break,” she said with a light laugh. “Even shadowsingers need to recharge once in a while.”

Feyre glanced at Rhys, her brow arched in thought. "He didn't seem like anything was wrong the last time I saw him. Do you think something’s going on that he’s not telling us?"

Cassian sat up straighter, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You know how secretive he can be. But a whole week off? Something doesn’t add up.”

"Maybe he met someone," Mor suggested, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Maybe there’s a secret lover involved, and he’s just been keeping it from us.”

At that, Cassian snorted, his wings shifting behind him as he chuckled. "Azriel? Keeping a secret lover from us? That sounds about right, actually. He’s good at hiding things.”

Rhys tilted his head, a slight frown creasing his brow. “He’s been acting strange lately. Not just with the time off, but before that too. More secretive than usual. And those late-night disappearances…”

Feyre leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Do you think he’s hiding something serious?”

Rhys let out a thoughtful hum, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of the couch. “Could be. Azriel’s not one to share things unless it’s absolutely necessary. If something’s bothering him, he’ll bury it deep.”

Mor crossed her arms, glancing between Rhys and Cassian. “Do you think it has to do with the place we went to in the Hewn City? The woman—YN—she seemed close to him. Could it be related?”

Rhys’s eyes darkened for a moment, as if recalling the encounter at the pleasure house. “Possibly. He did seem more… comfortable there than usual. And she did say something about going back after maternity leave. Perhaps Azriel’s more involved in her life than we thought.”

Cassian shifted, his expression turning more serious. "You think he's involved with her?"

"It’s possible," Rhys said slowly. "But Azriel’s careful. If he’s keeping something from us, it’s for a reason."

Amren, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke, her voice dry and laced with boredom. “Whatever it is, he’ll tell you when he’s ready. No point in speculating about his private life.”

Mor glanced at Amren, then back at the others. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on things. If he’s tangled up in something, we should know. Especially if it affects us or the missions we’re planning.”

Rhys gave a slow nod, his gaze flicking toward the window as if he were already piecing things together in his mind. “Agreed. But we give him space. Azriel’s earned that much.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. “Yeah, but if he disappears again, I’m dragging him back here myself.”

The group shared a small laugh, but the lingering tension remained. Azriel’s absence weighed on them more than they were willing to admit, and the mystery of his sudden break gnawed at their collective curiosity.

As the conversation lulled, Rhys’s gaze turned distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. He could sense there was more to this story than what met the eye. Something was going on with Azriel—something deeper than just taking time off.

But for now, they would wait. And watch.

---

YN walked into the pleasure home, the familiar scent of incense and low hum of conversation filling the air. She had grown accustomed to the atmosphere over the years—the darkened rooms, the hushed voices, the hidden glances exchanged between patrons and the workers. Tonight, though, something felt different. Her nerves were on edge, her mind still unsettled by the feeling that she was being watched the other day at the market.

As she adjusted her black silk dress, ensuring it clung to her in all the right places, she pushed those thoughts aside. She had work to do, and there was no room for distractions. She glanced around the room, scanning the faces of the patrons lounging in their seats, drinks in hand and their eyes on the stage where the night's entertainment had just begun.

And then she saw them.

At one of the booths near the back, sitting comfortably as if they belonged, were Rhysand and Cassian. But this time, they weren’t alone. Their partners, Nesta and Feyre, were with them. The sight of the group made YN pause for a split second, her breath catching in her throat as recognition hit her. It was them—she had felt their presence before. They were the ones who had been following her at the market just the day before.

She played it cool, forcing a neutral expression onto her face as she straightened her posture. Whatever they were doing here, she wasn’t going to let them know that she had figured it out. She was already too involved in the tangled mess of Azriel’s secrets, and the last thing she needed was to attract more attention from his friends. Especially Feyre and Nesta. If they even had the faintest idea about her connection to Azriel, things could go downhill fast.

With a calm smile plastered on her face, she made her way toward their table. Her heart raced beneath her composed exterior, but she kept her movements steady, her steps measured and graceful as she approached the group.

"Good evening," YN greeted them, her voice smooth and professional as she came to a stop by their table. "What can I get for you tonight?"

Rhysand, ever the picture of charm and elegance, offered her a polite smile. His violet eyes met hers briefly, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe suspicion. Cassian leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually over Nesta’s shoulders, while Feyre, sitting next to Rhys, regarded YN with an air of quiet observation.

“We’ll start with a round of drinks,” Rhys said, his tone casual, but YN could feel the weight of his gaze on her, as if he were sizing her up. “Something strong.”

YN nodded, jotting down the order even though she didn’t need to. She had memorized the menu long ago. “I’ll be right back with that.”

She turned on her heel and walked away, her mind racing as she made her way to the bar. It was no coincidence that they were here again, especially after what happened at the market. Rhys and Cassian had come to the pleasure home with Azriel once before, and now this was their third visit in such a short time. It couldn’t be a casual night out—it had to be something more.

Harvey, her bartender friend, raised an eyebrow as she approached. "You okay?" he asked quietly, noticing the tension in her shoulders.

YN forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Fine. Just...unexpected company," she muttered as she handed him the drink order. Her mind was spinning with questions, but she knew better than to discuss anything in the open.

As Harvey prepared the drinks, YN leaned against the bar, trying to steady herself. She had to stay calm, keep up the act. If Rhysand and the others were here for information, she couldn’t afford to give anything away. Not about herself, not about Azriel. Not about Knox. They still had no idea about her and Azriel, and she intended to keep it that way.

After a few minutes, Harvey slid the tray of drinks toward her, and YN lifted it carefully, balancing it in her hands as she returned to the table. She felt their eyes on her as she approached, but she kept her expression neutral, her smile practiced and professional.

"Here you go," she said, setting the drinks down in front of them. She noticed how Feyre’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to place her.

"Thanks," Cassian said, his voice gruff but polite. Nesta glanced up at YN briefly before turning her attention back to her drink, uninterested in the small talk.

As YN set the last glass down in front of Rhys, she caught his gaze again. His expression was calm, unreadable, but she could sense the questions lurking beneath the surface. She had been in enough rooms with men like him to know when someone was trying to figure out a puzzle—and tonight, she was the puzzle.

Before anyone could say anything further, YN gave them a small nod and turned to leave, her pulse quickening as she walked away. She had to be careful now. Whatever game they were playing, she was already too deep in it. And with Azriel out on his week off, the last thing she needed was for his inner circle to find out about Knox—or their relationship.

As she walked back toward the bar, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. They were watching her, but she had survived worse. She just had to keep her head down, play her part, and hope that they wouldn’t dig too deep.

But the nagging thought wouldn’t leave her: Why were they here again? And what, exactly, were they hoping to find out?

YN stepped through the door of their small apartment, her body aching from the weight of the day. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, and her mind raced with endless thoughts—who had been spying on her, why the Inner Circle kept showing up, and what it all meant for her and Azriel. She had kept her cool at the pleasure house, but the constant pressure of pretending everything was normal while being watched was wearing her down.

The familiar warmth of home wrapped around her as she shut the door quietly behind her, but the tension in her body refused to ease. She dropped her bag on the floor, her gaze flicking to the couch where Azriel sat, barefoot and bare-chested, with only a pair of loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was leaning back, a book resting in his hands, though the moment she entered, his golden-brown eyes were on her, sensing her frustration without needing to ask.

“Rough night?” Azriel asked softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. He closed the book and set it aside, his attention fully on her.

YN gave a small nod, too tired to speak. The weight of everything pressed down on her, making her feel like she could collapse right there in the doorway. Her shoulders slumped, and Azriel immediately got up, moving toward her with a fluid grace that belied the exhaustion she knew he carried too.

He reached for her gently, his hands sliding under her shirt, lifting it over her head in one smooth motion. The cool air hit her skin, but it wasn’t the chill that made her shiver. It was the way Azriel’s hands worked with such care, as though she were made of something fragile, even though he knew better than anyone that she wasn’t.

When he unclasped her bra and slid it off her shoulders, YN let out a long, shaky breath. Azriel’s presence was grounding, his hands firm yet tender as he guided her to the couch. He sat down first, pulling her with him until she was lying against his chest, her legs draped over his as she settled into his warmth. The steady rise and fall of his breathing was the only sound in the room for a moment, and YN could feel some of the tension in her body begin to melt away.

But she still felt overwhelmed—by the spying, by the uncertainty, by the weight of the past few days.

Azriel knew. He always did. His calloused hands moved to the scars on her back, the ridged lines that traced where her wings had been brutally clipped when she was only nine years old. It had been a trauma that never left her, not in all the years since. Even though she had healed, those scars still carried memories she couldn’t shake. And Azriel knew how much they haunted her.

His fingers brushed lightly over the scars, tracing the familiar pattern as he began to massage the tense muscles beneath. The pressure was just enough to ease the knots that had formed in her back, and YN couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped her lips. He always knew how to take the pain away—both the physical and the emotional.

"Talk to me," Azriel murmured, his voice a quiet invitation. "What happened?"

YN closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the soothing motions of his hands carry her for a moment. “I think they’re watching me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I recognized Rhys and Cassian at the pleasure house tonight, and... they’ve been following me. I know it.”

Azriel’s hands paused briefly before continuing their gentle rhythm. He didn’t ask who “they” were—he didn’t need to. He had already suspected the Inner Circle’s involvement, though hearing it confirmed made his chest tighten.

“I’ll take care of it,” he promised quietly, his voice steady and unwavering. “You don’t have to worry about them.”

But that wasn’t the only thing gnawing at YN. There was more—the weight of being watched, the fear that their secret might be exposed. The fear that her past, her clipped wings, her life at the pleasure house, and everything she had built with Azriel and Knox would come crashing down.

“They don’t know about us, about Knox,” YN continued, her voice trembling slightly as she curled in closer to Azriel. “But if they keep following me... I’m scared they’ll find out.”

Azriel’s arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against his chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, a silent reassurance. “They won’t,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you or Knox. You’re both safe.”

YN buried her face against his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming the storm inside her. She believed him—she always did. Azriel had been her anchor, her protector, the one person who had stood by her when no one else would. But even with his promises, the weight of everything still felt like too much.

His hands continued to work at the knots in her back, his fingers gentle yet firm, easing the tension from her muscles. YN let out a shaky breath, feeling her body slowly relax under his touch. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink deeper into the safety of Azriel’s arms, the familiar scent of him wrapping around her like a cocoon.

For a few moments, it was just them—their shared silence, the unspoken bond between them. Azriel’s hands never stopped moving, soothing the aches and pains that had built up inside her. His presence was her sanctuary, the one place she felt truly at peace.

And for now, that was enough.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

There's three more chapters left and I think I might make a sequel but not with the mmc you think it is.... But the drama unfolds in the next chapter

[baestruly]

i'll be there

( ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 )  spencer reid x reader

⤷ IN WHICH, you're stressed with work, but spencer is there to help you

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - hurt x comfort, fluff

The caress of sweet, warm sunlight might have been a balm on your skin, had it not been for the relentless pressure trapped within your head ━━ a tumultuous symphony of pounding echoes and silent screams.

The evening sun lashed out like a fiery whip, scorching your vision as you massaged wearied eyes, only to stir the relentless ache burrowing deeper within your head.

It wasn’t just the sunlight causing you to be in distress, it was the amount of paperwork you still had to get done. Even though you’ve been trying to multitask all week, you had to do it on the plane while also managing to find leads or behaviours on the criminals while also having to run home to your apartment because you received a text from your dog sitter ━━ who you pay probably too much, to look after your new dog saying he had ripped the whole place apart. Your needs, blankets, almost all of your pillows and of course, the couch!

Your therapist had recommended you get a job because of the stress you have been under for your new job. Yeah, new. Maybe that’s why you seemed like the odd one out because everyone was so much more experienced than you were. Of course, they had to start somewhere, but you felt like a rookie beside them, especially the smartest one, Spencer Reid, only having been on the force for around a month. 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, the voices were getting to be too much. 

You’re a failure, you’ll never be as good as them! Get your head straight, you’re not thinking like a profiler, there's so much going on! It goes on and on and on━━

“Y/N?” 

Someone's voice snaps you from your thoughts, all of them shattering like glass as they scrape your skull. It bled, just like the blood on the floor of that poor girl━━

“Y/N? Hey━━hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” His voice was tinged with a palpable mixture of concern and fear, the words tumbling from him like a cascade of worry. He was closer now, having his shaky but reassuring hand on your arm. You weren’t able to feel the warmth because of the thick knitted sweater you wore for the colder months of November.

His eyes spiralled, reading every inch of expression on your face. By now, he could’ve figured it out and profiled you on his own━━hell, it wouldn’t even take a profiler to tell how stressed out you were, goddammit. But, he waited patiently, letting you know he was here despite his efforts to stay calm to keep you calm.

It wasn’t working.

 Spencer has always been the hesitant and shy type. Not when it came to his interests━━which were mostly about anything, really━━or profiling, but when it came to feelings, emotion or conversations, the poor guy was clueless.

Deep down you knew he had a good heart. You don’t think you’ve admired someone this much before, especially a friend.

You tried to stare into his eyes, but the voices in your head started again. This time, it wasn’t about the dog or your cold case, or even the bloody walls of the family home you’d visited on Wednesday.

You suddenly realized how terrified you were of dumping this on Spencer. The stress of this moment was too much, he was waiting for an answer and you couldn’t just stand there! Like that statue━━no, you couldn’t do that, not now.

“I━━I’m fine, Spencer.” You sprung from your seat, quickly pacing and turning your back to him as you picked up a few files from where you had been frantically working at your desk, giving yourself something to focus on other than the voices in your head and walls that were starting to crumble behind your eyes.

Like the crumpling statue on the ground.

You clenched your teeth. You needed to focus to get your shit done and get home in time to be able to sleep and eat! You haven't eaten anything all day?! Holy shit━━

Spencer stood in confusion and worry. His mind started scrambling thinking of ways to go about the situation. You’d think when it came to profiling he’d know exactly what to do or say that may help you or set you off, but when it came to you, the closest friend he’s ever made in less than a month, he was clueless, he didn’t want to make things worse.

Profiling was different, he didn’t know those people. 

He knew you.

And he guesses that his greatest fear at that moment was seeing you in distress, and not knowing what to do that would make it better. 

The girl's body lay limp in the bedroom. The throat detached like the grey, morbid statue, symbolizing nothing like the bloody corpse of who was once a bright happy girl, the soul ripped away from her.

You continued to pace around the room, grabbing your hair and clearing your throat. 

“Is there━━um, anything you want me to do? I’ll do it, Y/N just are—are you okay? Talk to me.”

You stopped, finally facing him, and that’s when Spencer could finally see your face.

But your eyes were red, like you had been crying before and bags were deeply engraved under your eyes as your hair became messier each time you ran your shaky hand through it. 

His heart broke a little. 

“I j━━just, okay━━I have a dog, the sitters have been calling me all week!” You shouted in frustration. Spencer blinked, startled, but he listened, brows furrowing. “Now she’s not there━━and I can’t even use my bed let alone the━━the couch and━━this case has gone cold, now we have another one and there’s just so many dead ends━━“ You stopped.

Silence.

“I just need everything to stop.” That’s it, the walls be damned because you couldn’t fucking hold it anymore no matter how hard you fought. And you think it’s safe to say you’ve fought hard enough this week. “I need to just shut my mind off.”

Your voice cracked as your breaths heaved in and out of your chest, somewhat relieved to get it all out. Now that your thoughts become your words, it only makes them more real.

You couldn’t breathe at all, every inhale you took as you doubled over in panic and distress didn’t fill your lungs, which only made your eyes widen with fear as your heart thundered in your ears. 

“Crap━━(Y/N), breathe with me alright? Okay, just one breath in━━" Spencer ran to your side, leading you to the sofa as he kneeled in front of you so his face was in your view. “Breathe out, nice and slow, you got it.” 

Your breath shook viscously with each inhale you took, but Spencer didn’t mind, nor did he seem to care about how crazy you thought you looked right now. Instead, he nodded at you with encouraging eyes when you opened yours, trying to find balance in his presence while he slowly and gently rubbed his thumb on the side of your cold hands.

“I’m good, I’m good.” You choke out with one last exhale now that your breathing seems to go back to normal. You were still out of breath as the lump in your throat remained.

“Hey, I know, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He says softly but reassuringly, eyes glistening with concern and admiration for your efforts. Your bold personality always interested him, that’s why he’d been so shocked to see you in a state like this. Although you were bold, you seemed to close yourself off when it came to emotions. “Now, you’re fine with this today, alright?”

“No, I n━━“

He shushed you gently. “I know, Emily’s got it for you for the rest of the night. You need rest.”

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you followed Spencer to his car before feeling a sense of relief to be away from the office for a moment as the cold air from outside turned warmer with every second you sat in the seat with him. It was oddly comforting, and you breathed deeply, finding it easier to control it now. 

But of course, it all hit you.

“God━━Spence, I am so so sorry, shit━━"

“No! No, it’s okay, believe me when I say this, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He blinked a few times before scrunching his nose. “90 percent of people struggling do not speak up because, well, they’re scared of judgement, the other half of it being embarrassment when really, we have nothing to be embarrassed of. Everyone feels, you know. It’s basically impossible for all of us bring in our positions in this job to not be affected by the tragedies we see.”

“Wow, Spencer Reid, as a genius profiler I would’ve expected you to know not everyone feels.” She let out a breathy laugh, the skin under your eyes feeling dry from your tears. 

Spencer felt better that you were trying to lighten the mood. He smiled softly looking down at his hands as he nodded. “You know what I mean!” 

“Yes, Reid, I do.” You smiled back. “So, where are we going?”

“When you’re stressed out it’s better to do things that keep your mind away from it.” He starts. You knew that too. “Doing something peaceful is another effective way.”

“Sounds perfect.” You sighed a sigh of relief, leaning your head back slightly so it touched the seat. You felt reassured knowing Reid was here with you and was willing to help. Maybe all you needed was an extra hand, instead of putting more problems on yourself.

“Reid?” You say, hesitantly turning to look at him. You could feel the admiration luring out of them. “Thank you.”

He smiled, eyes thoughtful. “Of course. I want to help you.”

Although you remained seated, you encircled him in an awkward yet secure embrace, needing to convey just how grateful you were for his presence in that moment and in your life.

“Your heart━━it’s beating really fast.” You say softly once you pull away from his warm embrace. “You sufre you’re not stressed about anything right now?” 

“Well━━there, uh, maybe one thing.” He stuttered, as his nervous but warm hands cupped your face, his thumb glinting across your skin much like the time back at the BAU when he held your hand during your panic attack. 

“Wouldn’t take a profiler to figure it out.” You whispered, your lips softly pressing against his, delicate and soft. He kissed you as if you were fragile and his hand was the only thing keeping you together as his lips moved against yours. His hand moved into your hair, caressing your head hoping his kisses could make all your pain go away.

You could sense his smile against yours, lips stretching into a thin line of joy, as your laughter tangled messily with his. Admiration was pumping through your veins, but nothing compared to the love pumping in your rapidly beating heart, all your stress being replaced with warmth and admiration.

If Spencer became the air that filled your lungs, the very breath of your existence, you'd no longer need to learn how to breathe.

a/n: that was my first time writing for spencer so pls be nice!!

i haven't wrote in a while but i'm happy to be back! please request anything for spencer in my request box

spencer reid masterlist           masterlist

also request anything! 

[springgirlshowers]

You’re A Dream, A Burning Star

Summary: A small musician at a venue in Berlin catches Joosts eye, after speaking to her, neither would never expect the next few months to be so intense.

Pairing: Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

WC: 8016

CW: drinking, shitty boyfriends, kissing, yelling, arguing, actually proofread for once, tbh this whole fic is a rollercoaster of emotions…strap in

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS!!! this has probably been the most fun one to write n my longest fic yet, hope it breaks your heart and mends it all at the same time <3 *songfic heavily inspired by this evil ass song*

Sometimes while traveling, Joost would like to go out to smaller venues and watch other live shows of performers he’s never heard of.

The one he was going to tonight, he had already had a show booked there tomorrow night.

He just wanted to get an idea of what it would be like inside, sure he saw the photos of it, but he always preferred seeing things in real life.

The line up tonight was two opening acts, then the main one at a small venue and bar.

The first opening act was your name. He thought it was pretty. As he stood to the side, beer in hand. He watched you enter the stage, obviously nervous.

A pretty face to match a pretty name.

You talked kindly yet a bit frightened into the microphone. You were a bundle of nerves, apologizing for your awkward and nervous behavior, and explained that you were still getting used to these crowds.

He thought it was cute in a way, it reminded of himself when he was just starting out as well.

You talked to the crowd in between your songs. Asking how everyone was feeling and how their night was going, earning cheers from the crowd.

Joost watched as your eyes darted around the crowd as you sang, not in a way of you were trying to let everyone have your attention, but in a way of you were searching for someone.

Eventually your eyes gave up looking and you closed them instead, staring at the crowd for too long would make you even more nervous.

Joost felt like you casted a spell on him the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The way your lips moved as you sang sweetly into the mic, the way your hands moved so smoothly across the strings on your guitar, the way you swayed back and forth, how your eyes glistened in the light.

You had him in a trance.

After your short set was done, you exited the stage in such a polite manner. Thanking the crowd repeatedly before grabbing your guitar and case in an organized manner.

Joost would spend the next twenty minutes trying to find you. He knew it seemed a little weird to see you on stage and spend the rest of the night looking for you, like some obsessed fan.

But something in him was aching for him to talk to you.

When he found you, you were leaning against a back wall, watching the end of the second opening act.

Joost came up to you and suddenly he felt as nervous as you looked on stage.

You squinted your eyes at the blonde man for a split second. You had seen him from somewhere.

“I just wanted to say you did amazing on stage. It’s like you casted a spell on the crowd.” The validation made you smile.

“I’m not sure if they were really there for me, I was just the opening act.” You gave him a small shrug in response, too nervous to keep eye contact for long.

“A good amount of people seemed interested. Me included.” He nodded reassuringly.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, but I need to work on my stage presence, I’m moderately good at it.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He said blankly.

“What would you say then?” You questioned, tapping your fingers on your glass.

“I’d say you're exceptional.” A grin slowly took up your face, making your eyes shut and cheeks blush, you looked away.

“That’s a bit of overstatement. I messed up on my third song.” You shrugged, looking down at the cup in your hands. You’ve never gotten so many compliments in a single minute, in your mind you had to double down and keep yourself humbled.

“I didn’t even notice. I thought you sounded perfect.” He said blankly, unbothered.

“That’s very sweet of you…uh, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“I’m Joost.” He looked puzzled as your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up.

“Now I know where I recognized you from! I’ve heard of you!” You pointed at him.

“You have?” Joost looked at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I heard your little song that you did with that guy with the goggles.” You giggled and made a gesture to your eyes.

You were so nice. Joost was praying that was the only song you heard by him and not any of his other popular ones with…suggestive lyrics.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty popular isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. God, you were so sweet. He didn’t want to mess this up.

You looked at your phone again, seeing if there were any new notifications for a text from your boyfriend. There was nothing. You let out a dissatisfied breath and turned it off.

“Are you alright? Are you waiting for someone?” Joost asked as you shoved your phone into your pocket.

“Uh, yeah. My boyfriend said he would show up tonight but I haven’t seen him. I’m wondering if he even bothered to show up at all.” You muttered your last sentence out, still looking around to see if he was there.

Joosts heart fell to his stomach. Of course a pretty girl like you would have a boyfriend. You were talented, kind, and gorgeous. Who wouldn’t fall in love with you?

He stayed silent, giving you a sympathetic frown.

“Anyways, is that why you’re here in Berlin? Your song?” You pipped, changing the subject in hopes to get rid of the knot in your stomach.

“How do you know I’m not from Berlin?” He teased, narrowing his eyes.

“You have a different accent. You pronounce words differently. Plus, we’re talking in Dutch. I’m guessing either you’re from Belgium or the Netherlands.” You shrugged.

“Netherlands.” He nodded, your eyes lit up.

“I knew it! I’ll be there in a few months actually!” You exclaimed happily.

“Really? For tour?”

“Oh not for that. It’ll be over by then.” You waved your hand. “A label in Amsterdam reached out to me and I think I’m gonna take the offer.”

“That’s amazing!” He exclaimed, his face filling up with joy, then he cleared his throat. “Is your boyfriend moving with you?”

Your happy expression faltered, looking down at your drink nervously.

“Um, well he doesn’t think he can. With work and all, but we’re just gonna do long distance.” You pipped, though you tried your best to put on a mask of happiness, the hesitation in your voice was obvious.

Before Joost could get a word out, a male voice was calling your name from the crowd.

A slender man appeared, black hair and tall but shorter than Joost. He ran over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Speak of the devil Joost thought to himself, assuming this was your boyfriend with the way you looked at him.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m so sorry I got caught up with…stuff.” He attempted to give you a kiss on the lips, you accidentally moved your head in time for it to land on your cheek. “When do you go on?” He nodded to the stage.

“My set ended twenty minutes ago, Leon.” You said softly, the hurt and gloom prominent in your voice with your pouty face.

“Really? I thought you didn’t go on til later?” He said surprised, Joost could see through his act.

“I texted you the time I would be going on.” You trailed off, rubbing your arm for comfort.

“Are you sure? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you stranded.”

“It’s fine.” You said sadly, “I’ve already made a friend, this is Joost!” You gestured to Joost. Leon quickly took a protective stance, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him.

He was oblivious to the way you tensed up, Joost wasn’t however.

“Hi.” Joost gave a tight lipped smile, feeling the tension in the air.

“Joost makes music as well! He’s been doing it longer than me though.” You pipped, trying to continue on the conversation, slightly leaning away from Leon’s touch.

“Yeah, that’s great. I’m gonna go get a drink, do you wanna come with me?” Leon looked down at you.

“Oh, I’m fine right here. I already have one anyway.” You said happily, unbothered. Leon let out an annoyed breath.

“Why don’t you just come with me.” He spoke, more of a demand than a suggestion. You repeated your first previous sentence and shook your head. Leon removed his arm from around you, grabbing onto your upper arm with his hand, attempting to pull you with him.

“Come on, lets go.” He sounded like an angry father.

“I said I didn’t want to! I’m fine right here, Leon.” You shouted, wriggling your arm out of his grasp.

“Fine, whatever.” He muttered something else as he walked away. You rubbed your upper arm, ignoring the red fingerprints from how rough he was.

“He seems like a jerk.” The words were leaving Joosts mouth before he could realize. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be judging your relationship.” He blinked repeatedly and shook his head, as if he was trying to shake away what he said.

“No, it’s fine. He’s just a bit stubborn and short-tempered sometimes.” You sighed. “So what brought you to this place?” You changed the subject again, wanting to move on.

“Oh, um, I'm performing here tomorrow night, so I’m just getting an idea of what it’s like here tonight.” He shrugged.

“That’s so cool! Maybe I’ll show up and see you.” You suggested, Joost felt anxiety fill him up. His music was the complete opposite to yours.

“Oh no, you don’t have to, I don’t think you’d like mine. It doesn’t seem your style.”

“How do you know? I like trying new things.” You narrowed your eyes at him, playful look on your face.

“Fine. You know what, I’ll get you a backstage pass too so you’re not stuck with the sweaty crowd.”

“I’d like that a lot.” You laughed, the butterflies in Joosts stomach started fluttering again.

Noticing that Leon was taking a bit long to simply order a drink, you craned your head towards the bar, he wasn’t there. You pulled out your phone to text him.

Where’d you go??

Went back to my place. I got to work early tomorrow.

“What happened?” Joost asked, looking at the frown that appeared on your face.

“My boyfriend left. He was supposed to be my ride home.” You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “I’ll just take an uber or something, that’s how I got here.” You sighed.

“I could drive you.” Joost blurted out. “I’m not drunk at all, I promise. I’ll walk in a straight line if you need me to.” You chuckled at his offer.

“I’d really appreciate that. I’ll give you some money for the gas you waste on me.” You half jokingly said, already reaching for your wallet. Joost waved a dismissive hand.

“No, no. You don’t have to. You won’t be wasting anything. You can pay me back by showing up tomorrow.” He cut off your protests.

“Deal.” You smiled.

Joost made you let him hold your guitar case as you left the bar, he put it in the backseat of his car. He opened the door on the passengers side for you, which was much more than Leon ever did for you.

The drive to your house was awkward, a bit silent, the only noise being the robotic voice telling the directions to your place on the GPS.

When you reached the parking lot, before opening the door you stopped and turned towards Joost.

“Do you want my number?” Joost nearly choked on his spit at your question.

“W-what?” He sputtered out.

“Do you want my phone number? So you can text me when you’re going on.” You suggested, “Plus, I’d like to be friends too.” You nervously mumbled.

“Are we not already?”

“I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” You shrugged playfully. He grinned and grabbed his phone, opening messages and letting you type your number in, sending a text so you got the notification on your phone.

“Alright, sweet!” You said happily, stepping out the car, then leaning down a bit to look at him in the driver's seat.

“Thank you, a lot. For being so nice to me tonight.” You said, eyes looking around nervously.

“Yeah, yeah of course. You deserve it.” He praised, your cheeks went red and you looked down. He was giving you all the validation no one really ever did. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Joost.” You smiled and closed the door, waving at him as you walked to your apartment. Joost waited until he saw you enter your place and knew you were safe inside.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

You were definitely surprised by Joosts music style. You’d only heard one song of his in the past so you didn’t really know what the rest of his would be like.

It was strange seeing him out there, drinking beer on stage and moving around and singing like a madman as you watched from the side. Was this the same sweet guy you were talking to last night?

You didn’t mind however. His songs were catchy and you liked how he didn’t care about how crazy his stage presence was.

It was funny how you both caught your audience's eyes in different ways.

Joosts music was very hyper, fast, danceable. A microphone and a good DJ was what he used. It got the crowd jumping and chanting with him as he ran around on stage.

While yours was the complete opposite. Your music was a bit smoother, softer, flowy. You had your guitar and a sweet voice. The crowd swayed and mouthed along while you sang and stood on stage.

Joost exited the stage after lots of applause and repeated thank yous.

You felt a bit jealous of Joost, he had a bigger and definitely more interacting crowd than yours. You were grateful for what you got, but there was a small wanting inside you for one like his. Interested and excited. You knew it probably took a while for him to get here, as it does with all artists.

Hopefully one day you’d get a crowd as loud as his.

He ran right up to you, covered in a layer of sweat and chest heaving.

“What’d you think?” He asked, still catching his breath.

“I liked it, I think.” You both laughed. “It’s very…loud. Very crazy. But that’s a good thing, you know how to keep everyone entertained.” You complimented him, it was his turn to blush.

“Crazy. I like that.” He nodded proudly.

You walked over together to an empty spot behind the stage. A fold up table, a cooler of beer and different canned drinks sitting next to you.

“Do you want a beer?” Joost offered, you shook your head, telling him you already had a few.

“Well I’m gonna have more.” He laughed and pulled one out the cooler.

“Did it take you a while to get this big? Like with your career?” You spoke out, he looked at you confused.

“Well, kinda. I already had a small social media following before I started making music. So that helped.” He shrugged, taking a sip. “Why do you ask? Are you worried about yours?” It was like he could read your mind.

“Yeah, a bit.” You looked down at your feet. “I’m just scared I’m never gonna get where I want to be. Like I won’t be good enough for this stuff.” You frowned, Joost did too. He set his beer down on the table behind you.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He spoke softly, he brought his hand up to your chin, lifting it with a hooked finger for you to look at him. You breath hitched at the sudden gentle contact.

“You’re good enough. More than good enough. Exceptional. Remember?” You rolled your eyes at his words, he moved his hands to cup your face. “I’m serious! You’ve got an amazing voice. You’re gorgeous, talented, and kind. That’s the type of musician that this world needs.” His words made you smile and blush uncontrollably.

You muttered a small agreement and looked at each other. His eyes were so beautiful, though they were hidden behind his glasses, you could see the gorgeous shade of pale blue they were. It felt hypnotic.

Before you knew it, he was pulling your face to his, kissing you. You were caught off guard, still for a minute. Then you relaxed.

For a moment you pushed back into the kiss. Finding comfort in his lips against yours and his hands holding your face, you rubbed your hands up his chest as you kissed him back. Mouths parting and eloping each other's lips so passionately.

This was wrong. As you draped your arms around his neck Joost knew it was wrong. You had a boyfriend and he kissed you anyways. He couldn’t help it. You were so soft against him. You kissed back. It was pleasurable for the both of you, but it wasn’t right.

Then realization set in of what you were doing, you quickly pulled away.

You looked at each other, both a bit shocked and breathless.

“Oh…Joost. You’re very sweet but I already have someone. You know that.” You admitted as you let out a nervous breathy laugh.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I got a bit ahead of myself.” He quickly apologized.

“It’s okay. We’re both just drunk and being silly.” You giggled and shook your head.

Joost felt the opposite. He didn’t feel drunk at all, he didn't feel silly. He wanted to do that. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but he wanted to kiss you.

“Yeah, my adrenaline got too high. It was just a..” He let out an embarrassed laugh now too. Looking away and running hand through his already messy hair.

“Heat of the moment type of thing?” Your words were meant to sound like a statement, it ended up sounding like more of a question.

You were both lying. Neither of you were drunk. You both enjoyed it. You both wanted to do it. You both meant to do it. Just guilt and embarrassment got in the way.

“God, I'm sorry. W-we can just act like this never happened.” Joost told you, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Yeah, yeah, we can…” You trailed off, you still hadn’t moved your arms. He caught the way you were still gazing at him, eyes flickering to his lips once again.

You cleared your throat and removed your arms from him, crossing them awkwardly.

“Uh, do you need another ride home tonight?”

“Leon’s picking me up, he should be here soon actually.” You shook your head, the guilt starting to become obvious on your face. “I think I’ll just wait outside for him.” You quietly moved past him, looking at the floor.

“I can wait outside with you, for your safety.” He gulped. You turned to him, the corners of your lips slightly curling.

“Are you trying to be my guard dog now?” You joked.

“You could say that, plus I need my after-show smoke.” He shrugged, you scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully. Then waving a hand for him to come along.

As the night got darker the weather got colder, you stood outside the front entrance of the bar as you waited next to Joost. You took in a shaky breath as another cool gust of wind hit. Crossing your arms over each other, feeling the goosebumps.

“Are you cold?” Joost noticed, tilting his head.

“Just a bit.” You tried your best to act unbothered by the wind and what happened a few minutes ago. Joost took off his zip up jacket without a word, holding it out to you.

“No, no, you keep it. I don’t need it.” You waved a dismissive hand. Joost sighed.

“You’re shivering.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You shook your head once again. “Please. I'm still warm from the performance, I'll be fine.” He reassured you, you gave in, taking it and putting it on.

The jacket smelled slightly of cigarettes covered up by fruity cologne. It smelt like him. You felt so comfortable in it then any other clothes you’ve worn.

Joost finally lit his cigarette that had been hanging from his mouth, praying the taste of tobacco would overpower the taste of you in his mouth. It did, somewhat. The taste was still lingering on his tongue.

He made sure to blow smoke in the opposite direction of you, where the wind was going so you wouldn’t get a cloud of tobacco in your face.

You zipped the jacket up as you continued to wait, rubbing your fingers over the rhinestone skull design on it. Smiling.

Leon’s familiar car soon rolled up, parking by the sidewalk.

“You were really great tonight. You were amazing. Exceptional.” You told Joost as you started to slowly move towards your boyfriend's car.

“Thank you.” He was grinning ear to ear.

“Night Joost.” You gave him that signature sweet smile of yours that made him want to melt onto the concrete. He nodded his head and waved as you stepped in the car.

Leon pretended to not see Joost, even though Leon was staring daggers at him. He said nothing to you once you got in until you stopped at the first intersection.

“Any good acts tonight?” He spoke, turning on the right turn signal.

“Oh, yeah. Great ones.”

“That’s great baby, when did you get that jacket?” He took a quick look at your clothes. You looked down, eyes widening for a second.

You were still wearing Joosts jacket. You were wearing another man’s clothes in your boyfriend's car.

“I just found it in the back of my closet the other day.” You shrugged, acting oblivious.

Trying your best to tell yourself it really wasn’t that big of a deal, Joost only gave you his jacket because you were very obviously cold.

It meant nothing. If he hadn’t kissed you, maybe it would’ve meant nothing.

Leon let out a small hum, turning on the radio and saying nothing for the rest of the drive home.

You ended up not seeing Joost for the next four months. You kept in contact over text and one phone call. But you never saw each other in person after that. You never returned his jacket.

For those four months, there was a strange constant yearning, some ache in your chest. You weren’t sure exactly what. Maybe you did know, but just didn’t want to admit it. You convinced yourself it was Leon who you missed, not the other idea you were scared to admit.

Joost had that ache of yearning as well, he knew exactly what. You. He wanted to hear your laugh again, your singing, your voice. He wanted to see your smile, how your cheeks began to ball and blush and how your eyes squinted every time you began to grin.

God, he wanted nothing more but to see you again.

Once you were all settled in your new apartment, with barely any help from Leon, you began to book performances at local bars as you used to do back in Berlin.

Leon promised you he’d be in Amsterdam tonight, he promised he’d be on time and watch your show.

You peeked at the crowd a few minutes before you went on. Looking all over for him, even just a glimpse of him would make you happy. Glad he made it for once. There was no sign.

You pulled out your phone, texting him.

hey where are you??

i go on in like five minutes

are you running late??

A minute before set you got a response, you quickly checked your phone, an instagram notification.

But not from Leon, from Joost. He’d sent a photo. Just as you were about to see what it was, your name was being announced and you had to go on.

The crowd swayed and nodded along to your music. It was nice, you didn’t mind the peaceful crowd, it was what you were aiming for nowadays.

In the middle of one of your shorter songs, you once again started to look around for Leon. You spotted a taller, blonde, man wearing glasses, and hovering over the rest of the crowd with his height.

Joost.

You never told him directly where you were performing, he must’ve seen your name on the list of performers.

You began to smile and giggled for a moment into the mic. That smile and laugh he’s been waiting for what felt like forever to hear again, it made him feel ten times better than he already was.

After several thanks to the audience and putting away your things backstage, you checked your phone once again for any texts from Leon. Still nothing, he hadn’t even read your messages.

You walked out backstage and back into the bar area disappointedly until you saw Joost standing and waiting for you. Two drinks in his hands.

A smile lit up both your faces as you saw each other, yours was weaker than his however, still upset of Leon not showing up.

“Hey! I got you a drink, your mouth is probably pretty dry after all that singing.” He said happily, holding out the drink that was for you.

“Oh God, thank you. I was just about to get one of these.” You grinned as you took your drink from his hand, taking a sip from your straw and letting out a breath of satisfaction at the taste.

“I remember you said that was your favorite, so..” He shrugged and tilted his head as he smiled again. You hoped the dim light in the bar hid the blush taking over your cheeks, he remembered it was your favorite.

That only led you to another saddening thought. Joost remembered more about you than Leon did. He knew your favorite color, favorite drinks, favorite scents, favorite movies, favorite songs of his and yours. If you asked Leon to name any of those, he’d most likely just stare at you and stutter, not knowing.

The problem wasn’t Joost knowing your favorite things and Leon not. It was the fact that Joost remembered. Joost always remembered the times you told him you’d be going on at, or the places you were going to tour, the stories you told, or even the small little details you had in your conversations, that he would bring up in other conversations.

You couldn’t recall a time where you didn’t have to remind Leon multiple times you had a show and giving him the exact address to where it was, just for him to end up there ten or more minutes after your set, or not show up at all. Leon would never buy you your favorite drinks, or even buy you drinks, or buy you flowers, or take you out on dates.

Maybe it was wrong to compare the two men, they both had different lifestyles. But you’d known Joost for just a few months, much less time than Leon, and yet Joost still treated you better than your own boyfriend.

Because he remembered. He actually listened to you.

“You alright?” Joosts voice brought you out of your thoughts, “You looked really sad for a minute there.”

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m alright.” You waved a dismissive hand, put on your best unbothered expression. It was a weak one.

“You’re not a very good liar. I know somethings bothering you.” He teased, you looked down, deciding if you should try to lie more or tell him the truth, “Did Leon not show up?”

You kept your eyes on the ground and nodded, giving him a sad smile. He let out a coo of sympathy. It made the problem worse since Joost already knew what was wrong, he could read you like a book.

You took in a shaky breath when you tried to speak, you shut your eyes, hoping for the tears building up to subside. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of Joost, you didn’t want him to see you like that.

“It’s just been so long since I’ve seen him in person, and he promised he’d be here on time tonight. He won’t answer my texts again, I don’t see him anywhere.” You gestured a weak hand to the bar, no signs of your boyfriend being anywhere in there. Joost made a gloomy face as a few stray tears fell from your eyes, he wanted nothing more to hold you in this moment.

“And he promised to take me to that restaurant I keep talking about afterwards and…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid crying about this.” You looked to the side, wiping the tears away, only for them to be followed by more.

“Hey. You’re not stupid, you were excited about tonight, I’d be disappointed too if a date night like that got canceled. You know, I’d say he’s the stupid one for missing out on a night with you.” Joost leaned in, making you let out a weak laugh.

“Yeah, he’s the stupid one.” You sniffled and let out a weak laugh as you patted your eyes. “None of my makeup is smudged right?”

“No, wait actually, there’s like a small streak right here.” He pointed to a spot under his eye, attempting to give you a visual representation of where it was.

You attempted to wipe it away, missing completely. Looking at him for clarification that you got it.

“Uh, no it’s- here, just let me…” He trailed off as he brought his thumb to the mascara streak, gently smudging the stain away.

It was such a simple act of kindness, yet something about it felt so loving, so intimate.

After a few seconds of insanely intense eye contact, Joost cleared his throat and rubbed his hands.

“There. Oh, do you need a ride home tonight?”

“How many drinks have you had?” You half-joked.

“Just this one.” He held up his beer, you narrowed your eyes at him teasingly, which told him you knew he was lying.

“Okay I had another before this, but I’m barely even tipsy.” He held up his hands in defense.

“Fine.” You gave him a teasing smile.

The drive home was quiet as always. Yet there was no awkward tension between the both of you, just a comfortable silence.

Joost offered to walk you to your door for safety reasons of course, you would’ve said he didn’t need to, but he seemed adamant about it.

You let him walk you to the start of the steps instead.

Joost looked at you while you looked at your feet in perfect rhythm, both small smiles on your faces. While looking down, you didn’t realize that your boyfriend was watching from your window, a scowl on his face.

You stopped at the foot of the stairs, finally looking up at the blonde boy next to you.

“I think I’ll be okay from here. Thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, any time. If you ever need something you can call me.” Joost fidgeted with his thumbs, a nervous habit of his that you noticed and found cute in a way.

Both your eyes flickered to one another’s lips, a secret aching to close that gap between them. You took in a deep breath, coming back to the present moment.

“I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed. I’ll see you later.” You waved and made your way up the stairs, barely halfway up the stairs he called out your name. You turned with raised brows, a bit confused.

“Um, I just wanted to say…goodnight, Y/N.” Joost gulped, that’s not what he wanted to say.

“Goodnight, Joost.” You said softly, before both headed in the opposite directions.

You unlocked your door with that same feeling of butterflies in your stomach, only for them to go away and be replaced with a tight knot when you saw Leon leaning annoyed against your kitchen counter, a single lamp on in the entire place.

“Leon? What are you-“

“What were you doing with him?” He cut you off, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Don’t act dumb. That fucker you met from the bar, John.” Your eyebrows creased together, confused at the name, then realizing he got it wrong.

“Joost?”

“I didn’t ask for you to correct me. Just tell me why you were with him.” He put his hands on his hips, a defensive stance.

“He was giving me a ride home, since somebody decided to not pick up their phone.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I had a few work calls I needed to make.” He shrugged, unbothered as he told that shitty excuse he always made.

“Yeah. Of course. Work.” You muttered, turning your back to him to take your jacket off.

“Don’t avoid this, you’re always running around with Joost. Have you been messing around with him?”

“No!” You raised your voice, tone filled with disbelief at the fact he would accuse you of cheating.

“Then why are you constantly hanging around him? I see the way you fucking smile and bat your eyes at him.” He pointed a threatening finger.

“Because it feels like he cares about me more than you!” You snapped.

“Bullshit.” Leon scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“It’s not bullshit, it’s the truth. Joost has shown up to more shows of mine than you have! He's always the one who makes sure I get home safe! He’s done a lot more than you ever have.” You lazily gestured at the man in front of you.

“Then why don’t you go fucking go date him! If you love him so much!” Leon threw his arms up in the air.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You huffed, “I’m saying it’s unbelievable that a complete stranger I met at a bar has taken better care of me than you.”

“Bullshit, I’ve taken care of you.”

“When? Tell me a time!” You shouted at him, waiting a second for a response. Nothing.

“You’ve never given me a jacket when I’ve told you I’m cold, you barely ever take me out on dates, you’ve left me at the bar and made me walk home alone in the dark several times, you’ve never waited for me after a show!” You continued on with your rant “You’ve rarely even shown up to any of my shows!” You threw your arms in the air as your voice grew louder.

“I’ve told you before I get busy!” Another meaningless excuse.

“Busy with what? You’ve never given me a clear answer! It’s always just work! Yet there's never a clear reason! Why can’t you just take some time out of your day to come and see me? You didn’t even come tonight! And you’re in the goddamn country!” You were nearly screaming at him.

“Because you act like I could give a shit about your dumb fucking shows! You think I wanted to travel seven hours to see one of your boring sets?” He yelled at you, voice full of disgust.

You moved your head back in shock, jaw ajar and trembling as you tried to find the words. He shook his head and looked away, as if he was disappointed that you were upset.

“If you didn’t wanna see me, then why’d you even bother traveling here?” You stared at him with watering eyes, if looks could kill, he’d be dead on the floor. “You know what, if you don’t wanna see me, you can just get out.” You spat out, embarrassing angry tears starting to stream down your face.

“What?” Leon quickly whipped his gaze back to yours.

“Get out of my apartment! Get out! Get the fuck out!” You were shouting at him and pushing at him repeatedly, all the way into the hallway. He stumbled out.

You didn’t really know where all this rage came from, maybe it was the pent up frustration and anger from all the previous months, all the missed shows and ignored messages.

“You know what, fuck you! We’re over!” He pointed a defensive finger at you.

“We are over, asshole!” You yelled back at him, confused when you saw, his jaw clench angrily as he looked behind you.

You turned your head to see what he was staring at, it was Joost. Standing there with his mouth ajar and surprised eyes. Your face dropped.

Joost was shocked, standing there frozen. It was shocking to hear your usually soft and sweet spoken voice shouting and screaming curses at the man, watching your gentle hands shoving Leon harshly into the hallway.

Leon marched past you, muttering something and hitting Joost with his shoulder as he pushed past him, turning the corner and disappearing.

You and Joost stared at each other. He watched as your face crinkled in sadness and you let out a sob before turning and walking back into your apartment.

You were embarrassed that Joost saw you in such an angry and vulnerable state.

Joost was planning to come back, to possibly make that confession he’s been wanting to admit for months.

Instead watched you scream at your now ex boyfriend and saw you cry. Yet he still jogged over to your door, stopping you from closing it.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked worriedly, tilting his chin down to try and make eye contact.

“I think you should go, Joost.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes, you stared at his shoes.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“I want to be.”

“But you don’t deserve-“

“Joost. Please just go home.” You begged, finally looking up at him with your teary eyes. “Please.”

Though your eyes were puffy, red, and mascara was smudged and stained down your pouty face. Joost still thought you were the most beautiful girl, the most beautiful thing to exist he’s ever seen.

“Okay.” He breathed out, the word barely audible with how soft he spoke.

You mumbled out a thank you and an apology before you shut the door, he heard the locks click and rubbed his hands down his face.

Joost felt horrible for you. He felt ashamed too, like it was his fault in some way. Seeing you in that moment, seeing you like that, all he wanted to do was hold you. Cradle you. Comfort you as you cried.

You wanted the same. Yet, you had no idea why you turned him away, why you isolated yourself tonight. Was that really what you needed? Or just what you wanted?

It was radio silence from you for the next two days. You holed yourself up in your apartment, smothering yourself in blankets and sleeping.

You didn’t know why you were taking the breakup so hard, you were unhappy in that relationship. You felt liberated now, but the harsh words Leon spat out at you hit you hard.

What made it worse was that Joost saw you in such an vulnerable moment. You just felt ashamed and embarrassed.

Joost was nervous, he had another gig tonight that you planned to go to, you said that you would go to it when you found out about it a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t answered his texts, the most you did was open the photo he sent from your last performance. It was a zoomed in photo of you standing behind the curtain, text over it saying:

i see u ^_^

It was silly enough to get a small smile out of you.

Though you said you would show up before, he couldn’t find your face in the crowd anyways. After his show, he texted you, asking you where you were. You gave him a short response:

I wasn’t able to show up tonight. I’m really sorry, I’ll make it there next time hopefully.

Joost frowned to himself, he couldn’t blame nor be mad at you for it. He knew breakups were a tough process, he’s already had his own in the past.

He wasn’t upset, but he wasn’t gonna let you continue to isolate yourself.

Joost rocked on his heels nervously after he knocked on your door, a bottle of wine and a few flowers in his hand.

He did another smell check on himself again, hoping the quick shower he took was enough to wash off the sweat from his show.

He heard the footsteps dragging closer to the other side of the door, a small pause before he heard the lock on the door click.

You opened the door as far as possible until the chain lock stopped it, a very sleepy and gloomy looking you appearing through the gap.

“Joost? What’re you doing here?” You asked tiredly, yawning after you spoke.

“I thought you’d want a small pick me up.” He gave a sympathetic smile, holding up the wine. You stared for a second then shut the door. His face dropped. At least he tried.

Another click and the door slowly opened fully. You leaned against the doorframe lazily. The tear stains on your cheeks were now fully prominent in the overhead lights of the hallway.

“Is that just for me to drink sad and all alone?” You joked, Joost really couldn’t tell if you were.

“Well, we could always share. I won’t pass on wine.” He shrugged. Then letting out a cough as he realized he had forgotten his other gift.

“Oh, I also grabbed these.” He held up the few flowers he had in his fist, “I picked these from the bushes outside, I hope you don't mind. I just didn’t want to show up with only alcohol.” He cleared his throat, the flowers were drooping slightly.

You let out a weak breathy laugh as you took the weak flowers from his hands carefully. You took in a deep breath before moving to the side, giving him a reassuring nod to come in.

You grabbed two glasses out as well as a corkscrew while Joost placed the bottle on the counter.

You both drank in silence for a few minutes, Joost nervously tapped his fingers against his glass.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so depressing.” You trailed off, rubbing the side of your face.

“It’s fine. I know the first week is always the worst.”

“Yeah. I feel like I should be happy, he was an…asshole.” You threw a hand up, letting it fall against the counter. “But I dedicated so much of my time to him, for so long, now it just feels like I…”

“Wasted it?” Joost finished your sentence. You nodded, eyes beginning to water again.

“All I ever wanted was just someone to just…just see me.” You breathed out. “Or just love me. God, I sound so pitiful.” You let out a sad laugh, a stray tear escaping from your eye.

“So many people love you.” He reached out his hand, gently holding yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Like who?” You said before taking another sip from your glass. Joost had already finished his.

Me. Joost wanted to say it so badly, but he didn’t know if it was the right way to say it. He didn’t know if it was the right time to admit it, he never knew when the right time

“More than you realize.” He gave you a reassuring smile, then reached behind with his empty hand feeling for the pack in his pockets. “Do you mind if I smoke?” He asked for your approval before pulling the pack out.

“Uh, no. You- we can just go out on the balcony.” You pointed to the sliding doors.

“You smoke?” He raised his brows at you, surprised a shy girl like you would pick up that habit.

“No. No. I just don’t want to send you out there alone. I’d rather not be alone here either.” You mumbled the last sentence out before getting up, moving to the doors, unlocking and sliding one to the side.

Sitting in the balcony chair opposite from yours, Joost lit his cigarette, trying his best to blow the puff of smoke that came out in the opposite direction from you.

The air was colder than ever now that it was the middle of January. You zipped up the jacket you were wearing. That same jacket Joost gave outside the venue all those months ago. He never realized you were wearing it until now.

He wondered how many times you’ve worn it since then.

And you never would tell him you’ve put it on more times then you could count, it had become an item of comfort.

“I’m sorry you had to see me in such an ugly moment. I never wanted you to see me like that.” You sighed out, rubbing your arms. He looked at you, eyebrows knitting together.

“It wasn’t ugly.” Joost spoke softly, smoke exhaling from his mouth. You smiled weakly, taking the compliment but not fully believing it.

“I don’t think anyone has been so kind to me. Not in the way you have.” You looked at him, sniffling. Joosts face fell soft, a sad sympathetic expression on his face.

“Nobody ever kissed me like you did.” You blurted out, mouth moving faster than your brain.

“Do you want me to do it again?” Joost was a bit surprised at his own words, the small amount of alcohol in his system being just enough to give him a confidence boost.

It gave you one as well.

You didn’t give him a verbal response, instead you closed that large space in between you and him. Quickly crashing your lips into his as you held the side of his face.

His mouth tasted of mint toothpaste and tobacco, the taste almost felt addicting.

You pulled away, both shocked by your sudden movement. Joost abandoned his cigarette, not even caring to stomp it out. He wrapped one arm around your back, the other carefully placed on the side of your face as he pulled you onto his lap and closed the gap between your lips.

Your mouths eloped each other, passionate and hungry for one another. Your hands were roaming all over both of your bodies, your hands moving to the back of his head and raking into his hair while his rubbed all around your waist, face, and back.

It was messy, so needy. Yet it wasn’t like any other kiss you’ve had, there was friction but it wasn’t because of the lust you both felt for one another.

It was fueled by love.

After a good moment of your lips being stuck together, you both pulled away, breathless, lips swollen, and amazed.

“This is so silly.” You looked down, giggling to yourself, then calming down and looking back up at him. “But I’m not drunk.” Your voice was breathless.

“I’m not drunk either, I wasn’t last time.” He stared into your eyes, looking like he was enchanted by you. He practically was.

“I wasn’t either.” You admitted, you’ve wanted to admit that for so long. That the first time he kissed you, when you kissed back, it wasn’t in the heat of the moment. It was what you wanted, it was what you wanted when you were sober.

“Is it too early to say I’m in love with you?” He chuckled, his hands still holding the sides of your face.

“It only took you four months, but I’m good with the time being now. You’re a good kisser.” You held your hands over his, your eyes watering not out of sadness, but joy.

You gave him one more kiss before wrapping yourself around him, hiding your grinning face in the crook of his neck.

This is where you stayed for most of the night, intertwined with each other in the moonlight.

Such a cliché scene, but this is both what you’ve been yearning for so so long. And now that ache in your chests is gone.

[soulaires]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 7 Evil Exes ™️ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

main pairing: Aaron Warner x f!reader

synopsis: Aaron Warner is not sure about many things, but he is sure as hell that he can be a better boyfriend than your exes.

content warnings: modern au, jealous Aaron Warner, bisexual reader, hinted one-sided rivalry (if u squint enough), use of y/n, profanities, making out, kissing, playgirl!reader, swear words, pining, slow burn..

« words: 17,899 (I know. I KNOW.) ┇ao3┇wattpad┇ reblogs appreciated! »

🪩:: voicemail; read my other aaron warner fics here.

authors note: It’s finally here!!! Please let me know your opinion or what you think about this!! Love you alll 🫶 I suggest reading it in ao3 btw, it’s much more easier imo andd not beta read sorry.

PRESENT. (2040)

Aaron Warner Doesn’t Get Jealous. (Or that’s the lie he keep telling at himself for the past few years)

He’s not really someone who got jealous, I mean, what would a man like him be jealous of?

Jealousy, in Warner’s meticulous worldview, was an emotion akin to unruly chaos. It required an admission of vulnerability, an acknowledgment that something, or in this case, someone, held the power to disrupt the carefully constructed equilibrium of his life. It was a sentiment he considered beneath him, beneath the carefully honed image of composure he projected to the world.

He was Aaron Warner, unflinching and composed. Jealousy required acknowledging vulnerabilities that he refused to expose. He has always prided himself on his unyielding control, the ironclad grip he maintained on every aspect of his life.

Yet, there were moments, like the one he was currently experiencing, that threatened his carefully constructed facade.

The party was in full swing, the atmosphere vibrant and charged. Laughter and music filled the air, and Warner stood amidst the throng of people, a glass of whiskey in hand. As he stood in the corner of the room, glaring daggers at the scene of you and kenji dancing in the middle of the dance floor, Warner could not deny the storm of emotions brewing within him.

He took a sip of his whiskey, his refined taste for the finer things momentarily overshadowed by the fire igniting in his chest. He had been observing the situation with detachment, or so he had tried to convince himself.

Yet, each chuckle that escaped your lips, every shy smile directed at that interloper, seemed to slice through his veneer of indifference like a dagger. Warner’s green eyes narrowed as he watched you, dissecting every nuance of the encounter. He saw the way your hair fell just so across your shoulders, the way your eyes sparkled with genuine amusement. And then, there was that touch – innocent, yes, but it still sent tendrils of anger curling around his heart, grip tightening around the glass cup.

“You alright there, Warner?” A voice chimed in, interrupting his train of thoughts. It was Nazeera, her observant eyes noticing the situation.

“Perfectly,” he replied curtly, his gaze still fixed on you.

Nazeera followed his line of sight and smirked. “Ah, I see. Jealousy does not suit you, Warner.”

Warner’s jaw clenched. “I am not jealous.”

Nazeera raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Jealousy requires emotions, which you find terribly unrefined. But as you stand here, glaring at the sight of poor y/n and kenji who’s unwittingly— or should I say unwillingly caught your ire, I’d say you are feeling downright murderous.”

Warner’s irritation flared. “I assure you, I’m simply observing. Run along.”

Nazeera chuckled knowingly. “Right, observing with the intensity of a hawk about to swoop down on its prey.”

Warner’s eyes flickered to her, irritation now can be seen at his face “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely” she replied, her grin widening. “But don’t fret, Warner. Jealousy happens to the best of us, even those who pride themselves on being unemotional”

Aaron only huffs in response. He took another sip of his whiskey, his gaze drifting back to you. Nazeera only watches him with amusement.

“They were supposed to be broken up,” he said, breaking the silence and now looki— no, glaring fire and daggers at Kenji.

“And why do you care?” Juliette Ferrars appeared, arms linked in with none other than Adam Kent who is smirking, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding in his eyes.

Nazeera smiled mischievously. “Yes, Warner, why do you care?” Aaron rolled his eyes taking a long gulp of his whiskey.

Why did he care?

Aaron Warner really had nothing against your past lovers—He simply believed that they all don’t deserve you and that he thought that he would fit in so much better in their place.

He could be a better boyfriend than all of them.

You see, You had what Aaron Warner liked to call 7 Evil Exes, except some of them were not really evil and some of them were not really exes. but that is what he likes to call them and a secret he clung to in the privacy of his mind.

Nazeera Ibrahim.

New Years Day Party, Circa 2035.

It was New Year’s Day, Aaron’s father had forced him again to come to a party with his business partners to celebrate.

As he entered the ballroom where the teenagers who were also dragged along by their parents were hanging out, Warner heard you and nazeera's loud, booming, and obnoxious laugh.

Recently, there hadn’t been a time when Aaron was with Nazeera that you weren’t accompanying them. And perhaps, if Aaron did not have such a terrible time making friends, he might not have ended up spending as much time hanging along with Nazeera Ibrahim.

The opulent ballroom was ablaze with twinkling chandeliers and a sea of elegantly dressed individuals. It was the kind of event that drew the city’s elite, where the power plays of the wealthy and influential were disguised behind smiles and clinking glasses.

Aaron Warner, however, had always found such gatherings a tiresome spectacle. Tonight was no different.

“Double A,” a voice chimed in, it was none other than Kenji Kishimoto. Warner hated that nickname and most especially kishimoto. “Upset that your rival is not giving you any attention?” He teased. “Go away.” Warner replied as he took a drink to his wine.

“In case you haven't noticed, this is a party – a gathering designed for enjoyment, y’know.” Warner only rolled his eyes in response , “I’m aware. Get out.”

“What’s with the face, sour patch? It’s New Year’s Eve, are you really starting your year with a brooding face? How boring”

“Go. Away.” He warned. Kenji only huffs in response as he leaves.

“Oh look who we have here,” you suddenly said behind Warner. “What are you doing here at the corner?” You stated. “None of your business.” He replied, bored.

“You are no fun, Aaron.” Oh God. “Fun might not be my forte then.” Warner said, sarcasm visible to his voice.

“You chat like a full-on adult – did you clock that?” You mumbled. Clearly not sober, you speaking to him and being ‘nice’ kinda give it away.

“Why aren’t you out there having a blast with us?” you prodded Warner’s arm. ”Why? You all seem to be enjoying yourselves just fine. Nazeera is,” Aaron murmured to himself.

“You do realize that we consider you a friend too, right? It is not just Nazeera.”

“When was the last time I spent time with you without Nazeera around?” Warner said, harshly. “I am not your friend, l/n.” He continued. “Oh, definitely not. But you are the biggest asshole I know.” You said teasingly as you laughed.

God. He kinda hates you.

“Oh, why thank you” Warner replied as he gave you a mocking smile. You only roll your eyes in response and leave, which is a dismay to Aaron.

__

He had been content in his corner, a place where he could observe without being observed, where he could distance himself from the shallow conversations and frivolous indulgence.

But his decision to leave his little corner had now made him an unwilling witness to a scene that mirrored a teenage sleepover rather than a high-society event, now he was an unwilling witness to the spectacle unfolding, a circle of friends, a bottle spinning, and raucous laughter as it determined the next victim.

It was all so juvenile, so beneath him. He didn’t care. No, he really did not. He exhaled a silent sigh, his eyes scanning the crowd. That’s when he saw you – a flash of mischief in your eyes as you joined the circle.

A mix of anticipation and amusement danced across your features, and for a moment, Aaron found his gaze inexplicably drawn to you.

The bottle pointed at you, and you met his gaze with a mix of anticipation and mischief. He couldn’t help but notice how your smile was brighter tonight, your eyes alight with the shared secrets of the game.

The bottle spun, slowly losing momentum before finally settling.

Nazeera.

The bottle had chosen Nazeera Ibrahim, and Aaron could not help but feel his gut tighten. Nazeera, with her quick wit and unapologetic charm, leaned in and brushed her lips against yours. The room erupted into cheers, the celebration of a simple, harmless act. Aaron downed the rest of his whiskey, his facade barely holding as he looked away.

He did not care. No, he really didn’t. It was a game, a meaningless gesture, and his rational mind understood that. But as he watched you and Nazeera exchange a knowing smile, a spark of anger flared within him, and he was left grappling with an unsettling truth he refused to acknowledge.

The room's energy was infectious, intoxicating, and it stirred something within him he had long suppressed. He downed the rest of his whiskey, its warmth barely soothing the tension in his chest.

___

The party continued, the spectacle of the game morphing into a dance of bodies and laughter. Aaron moved through the crowd with his usual grace, exchanging pleasantries and polite smiles. As the night waned, the festivities evolved into a more intimate gathering. Aaron found himself once again near the circle, his eyes discreetly observing.

His attention was drawn back to you – your laughter, your smile, the easy camaraderie you shared with those around you. And that spark of anger, the one he had tried to suppress, grew stronger.

The noise seemed to fade around him as he stood there, his thoughts a tempest of confusion and contradiction. He had been adamant that he did not care, that he was above the trivialities of the game. Yet, as he looked at you, a realization began to crystallize.

It was not about the kiss.

His internal debate was disrupted when Nazeera approached him, her gaze sharp and perceptive. ”What's eating at you, Warner?”

He gave her a sidelong glance, his features carefully composed. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

She chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize when something’s bothering you.”

He met her gaze, his voice firm. “It’s none of your concern, Ibrahim.”

She leaned in, her voice a whisper that held a hint of teasing. “You know, it’s okay to be bothered by something, even if you pretend otherwise. You don’t fool me, Aaron Warner.”

With that, she walked away, leaving Aaron to wrestle with the turmoil within him. He moved to a quieter corner of the room, his thoughts a tumultuous storm.

He didn't care. He couldn’t care.

That was the narrative he had woven for himself. But as he stood there, surrounded by the fading echoes of laughter and celebration, the truth began to claw at him.

The anger he felt wasn’t directed at the kiss itself, but at the fact that he had been forced to witness it.

Yeah, he definitely does hate you.

__

PRESENT.

Warner would not lie; there was a point when he disliked his friend.

It irked him how she was always stuck by your side, hated her for being your first kiss, hated her for the fact that she kissed you, hated her.

And he also hated you for being all nice and friendly, making him feel like he belonged like he’s included, but then turning around and acting like he did not exist. It made him think you chose Nazeera over him in some weird way.

The memory of it was a bitter pill to swallow. Now, he’s watching as Nazeera wrapped her arms around your waist, your laughter intermingling with the music, kishimoto no longer in sight.

Aaron’s jaw clenched as Nazeera’s touch lingered, her fingers grazing your skin.

Then you turned around, your arms snaking around Nazeera’s neck, hugging her from behind. The sight of your intimate embrace, the way your top lifted to reveal a hint of skin, stirred something in him that he could not quite name. He looked away, his irritation magnified by the laughter of Juliette and Adam, who were thoroughly entertained by his discomfort.

“Hey, Warner, you’re missing quite the show,” Juliette teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He forced a half-hearted smile, his gaze avoiding the dance floor. “I’ve seen better.”

Adam chuckled, clapping a hand on Warner’s shoulder. “Come on, man, don’t be such a killjoy. Live a little.” Warner only shoved his hand from his shoulder making Adam and Juliette laugh.

Their voices fell deaf on his ears as his attention was drawn back to you and Nazeera. The two of you seemed lost in your own world.

Warner pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed ahead with an air of annoyance. Even though Nazeera was this kind of ex-but-not-really, he still saw her as one of them. It was not jealousy, not exactly, but Nazeera’s striking resemblance to you made things pretty complicated. You and Nazeera seemed like two sides of the same coin on occasions.

Warner could not help but entertain the thoughts that he might have been a better choice for a first kiss – not that he was particularly yearning for that, though. Kissing you? no way, that would be way too crazy. It was completely out of the question. That was just a wild and outlandish notion, but…

Aaron Warner sure would have been a better first kiss.

But that’s only his own personal opinion. He genuinely has no real interest in it, none whatsoever.

He didn’t really care about you anyway.

Zayden Knox.

Is meeting someone just once and deciding that you already and absolutely loathe them too early? Because Warner was and had already decided he hated Zayden Knox. And if he had to endure another moment in his company, he was fairly certain he might spontaneously combust.

Zayden Knox. Your first Boyfriend. Tall, platinum blond, rich, narcissistic, undoubtedly entitled, and worse, he was dating you. Warner was going to vomit.

Warner could not fathom what you saw in him, what qualities Knox possessed that could warrant your affection? You guys had completed a month of dating – a month that felt like an eternity for Warner.

Aaron scowled as he recalled the incident when Zayden had deliberately taken the seat next to Warner, claiming he wanted to meet your 'cousin'. Cousin.

Warner had left the scene without exchanging a single word.

That was the moment he had decided to loathe Zayden Knox with a burning passion.

The infuriating part was that Zayden had nothing to do with Warner’s feelings for you. It wasn’t a matter of jealousy, or wanting to be in Knox’s place. It was the simple fact that Zayden grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

If Nazeera was a mirror image of you in some respects, Zayden was the polar opposite. He didn’t share your interests, your values, or seemingly any of your virtues.

Warner had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes whenever Zayden spoke, which was far too often. Zayden's conversations were self-centered topics that Warner found utterly infuriating.

Worse yet, he had heard Zayden mock the very things you enjoyed with an air of superiority that made Warner’s blood boil.

He literally did not care about what you liked and even trash-talked the stuff you enjoyed. Knox was shallow and annoying, he seemed like the last person you’d click with. So, the big question was, why did you pick Zayden Knox? Warner could not wrap his head around it.

What the hell had led you to choose someone like Zayden Knox as your first boyfriend?

That was the question Warner couldn’t answer, the puzzle he couldn’t solve. He had witnessed you laugh, engage in meaningful discussions, and show kindness to those around you. Zayden, on the other hand, seemed to be the embodiment of insincerity.

He can be a much better choice.

He can be your first boyfriend yet you have chosen someone who can’t even listen to you talking about the things you adored. Maybe that’s why every time he saw You and Knox in the hallways you guys were kissing and not talking.

___

Halloween Party, Circa 2037.

The Halloween party was in full swing, the mansion adorned with eerie decorations and the air thick with laughter and music. Aaron Warner, His costume was a nod to his own enigmatic aura – dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit, reminiscent of the dark, powerful figures from classic films.

It was as if he had embraced the idea of embodying his own enigma, using it to further distance himself from the joviality around him. He stood near the grand staircase, observing the masquerade of guests with his signature air of detached amusement.

He had begrudgingly agreed to attend this event, knowing that it was an opportunity for him to judge rich people’s choice of clothes. His attention, however, kept gravitating towards the entrance, his gaze settling on the crowd as the guests flowed in.

And then he saw you, (with Zayden Knox beside you, which Warner has completely ignored.) a vision of mischief and charm, you entered like a phantom, a vision of allure and danger wrapped in an enigma.

The black dress clung to your curves, the fabric flowing like liquid silk with each step she took. The dress itself was simple in design, yet its effect was anything but a slit up at your thigh, a dagger can be seen that it’s attached to your thighs, a fake gun was holstered at your side, a prop that lent authenticity to your costume of an assassin. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders in loose waves.

The corner of his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk – he had to admit that you had a talent for making an impression.

As the night wore on, he found himself content with his role as an observer. People mingled, danced, and indulged, all while he remained the enigmatic figure lurking in the shadows. He could feel their gazes on him, curious and speculative, their conversations likely rife with speculation about his motives and intentions.

The clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of chatter formed a backdrop to his thoughts, and he did not notice when you approached. It wasn’t until your voice cut through the noise that he turned his attention to you, his expression a mix of mild irritation and genuine intrigue.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the formidable Aaron Warner,” you purred, your tone laced with both taunting and undeniable magnetism.

He arched an eyebrow, a rare hint of amusement ghosting his features. ”And here I thought Halloween was a time for costumes, not insults.”

You chuckled, your laughter infectious even in the midst of the lingering tension. “Oh, but Aaron, don’t you know? Insults are my specialty, no matter the occasion.”

He couldn’t help but be drawn into the banter, “and here I was, hoping for a break from the usual.” He shot back.

“Well, I couldn’t help it. Are you trying to blend into the darkness tonight?” you quipped, your tone laced with a playful challenge.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze meeting yours, “you could say I’m embracing the ambiance.”

“Well, you’re certainly nailing the brooding loner aesthetic.”

Warner resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his lips quirking into a half-smile. ”I’m touched by your assessment,” you only smirk in response. “Why don’t you go run along now.” He continued, more of a statement than a question.

You gasped dramatically, a hand pressed to your heart in feigned hurt. “Wow, eager to get rid of me, Warner? I’m hurt. I thought we had something special!”

Your sarcasm was like a well-practiced melody, each word dripping with playful mockery. You even went so far as to dramatically wipe away non-existent tears from your eyes, the theatricality of the action earning a faint smile from him.

“Never, love.” his tone laced with a mock seriousness that matched your theatrics. You chuckled in response, pink blush coloring your cheeks. Huh. Cute.

“I’ll stay here for awhile, it’s suffocating out there.” you said.

Warner’s eyebrow arched slightly, “Won’t your date miss you?” there’s something in his tone that you couldn’t quite understand.

You met his gaze, ”If I cared about that, I would not be here.”

What? Warner raised an eyebrow, curiosity now visible to his face, “Touché.”

There was a charged silence between you, the tension hovering in the air. The air was heavy with an unspoken tension, a weight that seemed to settle between you as if begging to be addressed. The world around you continued to swirl, the party continued with fancy extravagance that sharply stands out from the complicated feelings brewing underneath.

Finally, Warner turned to you, putting an end to the silence. He blurted out, “Why are you dating Knox?” The question escaped him without restraint.

“What? Why?” Your response seemed defensive.

“He is… just nothing like you,” Warner shrugged dismissively as if he didn’t care. And he didn’t, at least that’s what he believed.

You looked at the landscape beyond the open window, nibbling on your lip. “You know, my friends have been saying the same thing,” you admitted cautiously. Then you turned back to him, looking deeply into his green eyes. Oh God.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“I don't like Zayden, not at all,” you finally said, your voice a blend of confidence and vulnerability. There was a quiet honesty in your words, a confession that seemed to hang in the air like a delicate secret.

Warner's brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on you as he processed your words. ”Like you said, he‘s not really my type.”

The uttered and unspoken meanings of the words hovered between you. Warner’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments of a puzzle he hadn’t realized he’d been trying to solve.

“oh.” he managed, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and realization. “Then why are you dating him?”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, he saw something in your gaze – a flicker of hesitation, a glint of regret. “Everyone around me is dating, and it makes me feel like I’m falling behind, and Zayden was right there and... I don’t like him at all.”

You didn’t like him. You didn’t like Zayden Knox. Well, now it all made a lot more sense.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his usually sharp mind suddenly feeling a bit scattered. The revelation hit him with an unexpected force, stirring up emotions he hadn’t anticipated. It was strange how he felt relieved.

“You're dating him because you felt pressured,” Warner summarized, his voice quieter than usual, laced with an understanding that bordered on empathy.

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. “Mhm. It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but it's true. I thought if I had a boyfriend, it would make me feel like I'm on the same page as everyone else.”

Warner studied your profile, the soft curve of your features illuminated by the gentle moonlight. “I understand that feeling,” he admitted, his tone almost hesitant. “The pressure to conform, to fit in. It’s a powerful force.”

You looked up, your eyes meeting him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “You do?”

He offered a small smile. “Perhaps more than you think. People always assume certain things about me, and sometimes it’s easier to just play along.” There was a shared understanding between you now, a connection that went beyond the surface.

Warner took a deep breath and spoke with a sincerity that surprised even himself.

“Y/N, you are not falling behind,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “You’re not defined by whether or not you are dating someone. You are young, you’ve got time with you. Besides, love is not just romantical, you can find love in everyday things. It's okay to want and crave it but just because you don’t have it right now doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you.”

Your gaze held his, a mixture of gratitude and contemplation shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Aaron.” He only offered a small smile in return.

“You should get back.” he pointed back to the ballroom.

“Right, they must be finding me right now.” you replied.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.” You smiled at him and winked. You winked at him. You winked. Good god.

__

Not a week after that, you broke up with your first boyfriend.

Zayden Knox was the ex that Warner forgot about the most, to be honest. It was not that he didn't notice the end of your relationship; it was just that Zayden seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by other exes that have captured Warner's wrath far more significantly.

Really, anyone would make a better first partner, maybe even him. Warner believes he’d be a way better choice for your first boyfriend, honestly.

The first ones aren’t always all that great, but they have the potential to be, if Aaron Warner was your first.

Astrid Rhodes.

Valentine’s Day, Circa 2038.

Valentine's Day had dawned, and a sense of whimsical romance filled the air. In the heart of someone's abnormally giant garden, a mini tea party event had been set up. The lush greenery and delicate blooms formed the perfect backdrop for the occasion. As the sun's warm embrace bathed the garden, laughter and chatter floated on the breeze.

Among the attendees was Aaron Warner, a figure that commanded attention without seeking it. He entered the garden with a nonchalant stride, his sharp gaze sweeping across the scene. The air was filled with the delicate clinking of teacups and the gentle hum of conversations. But amid the crowd, what managed to escape Warner's notice initially was you.

There you were, sitting on a blanket spread out on the grass, amidst the vivid colors of nature. Your lips were locked in a kiss with a raven-haired girl. The sight hit Warner with an unexpected intensity, igniting a sensation he was quick to suppress.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” a voice spoke behind him, Juliette ferrars. Warner turned to find Ferrars at his side. Her knowing gaze bore into him. Warner stayed silent, a deliberate choice to avoid admitting that there might be a connection between him and you. He grasped the reality that acknowledging it would trap him in that emotion, and he was determined to avoid that outcome. So, denial it was.

“Is that what you two always tell yourself?” Another voice joined in, it was Nazeera. Of course it had to be her. The question took Warner and Juliette completely by surprise.

Warner and Juliette exchanged a glance, bewildered by Nazeera's statement. They turned to follow her gaze, only to realize that she was now looking at you and the raven-haired girl.

“Her name is Astrid Rhodes,” Nazeera informed them, her tone matter-of-fact. “They’ve been seeing each other for about a week now, but trust me, it doesn't carry any weight.”

“I didn’t ask.” Warner's retort was sharp, laced with a hint of sass. Ferrars only scoffed. what?

Nazeera, however, remained unperturbed by their reactions, her gaze still fixed on you. “Y/N is simply exploring something with Rhodes, an experiment of sorts. Nothing serious.” she said as she ignored Warner completely.

Juliette sighed in defeat.

Oh. oh. Jesus Christ.

“You like her?” Warner shot Juliette a look that ferrars can’t comprehend as he questioned her.

“And what about it?” Ferrars replied, as she raised her eyebrows, taunting warner.

“Oh, come now, Ferrars. Don’t pretend you don’t understand the significance of such a question.” Warner responded.

“Significance? Please enlighten me, Warner. I'm all ears.” Juliette said, looking rather annoyed. Warner only ignored her, leaving the scene as he sat on a chair in the less crowded space. Unfortunately for him, Ibrahim and Ferrars have followed him, taking seats beside him. So, God help me.

“I only like her. It’s different from being in love with her, nazeera.” Ferrars stated as she sat in front of him, nazeera scoffed, “sure, j” Ibrahim remarked, clearly not believing ferrars. “I’m being serious! I don’t love her, I can’t.” Ferrars defended herself, stupidly.

“Are you saying you've never felt anything remotely close to affection, Ferrars?” Warner retorted, “Oh, please. Don’t make this about me, Warner. We’re gonna discuss your sudden fascination.” Ferrars declared.

“Fascination, you say? I think you’re giving yourself too much credit. It's called observation.” Warner uttered coldly.

Juliette snorted, “Of course, because watching someone with such intensity is purely an observational exercise.”

"Exactly. Just like observing a laboratory experiment," Warner countered, “You know, with variables, hypotheses, and unexpected outcomes.”

“Ah, so y/n is an experiment now? What’s next? Are you going to write a research paper on her tendencies?” Juliette retorted quickly.

Warner chuckled, “Perhaps a series of articles, titled ‘The Curious Case of Y/N L/N’”

Before their jabs could continue, Nazeera intervened, her presence a stark interruption to their exchange.

“Could you two save the investigative journalism for later?” Nazeera quipped, a knowing smile curving her lips.

Warner and Juliette scowelled, both momentarily taken aback by Nazeera’s interruption. It was as if she could sense the undercurrents of their conversation.

“Something tells me you have more interesting things to discuss,” Nazeera continued, her gaze flickering toward you and Astrid Rhodes, who were still engrossed in their own world.

Warner’s jaw tightened slightly, his thoughts a tangled mess. Nazeera had a way of cutting through pretenses, of bringing the truth to light in a way that was both disconcerting and strangely refreshing. Juliette sighed, her defiance momentarily giving way to resignation.

“Why Don’t you tell me something about Rhodes so that I can properly despise her.” Juliette’s voice cut through, laced with a mix of bitterness and curiosity. Her words hung in the air like a challenge, Nazeera’s lips twitched, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. With a nod, she leaned back, ready to unravel the tapestry of Astrid Rhodes’ reputation.

“Ah, Astrid Rhodes,” Nazeera began, her tone carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation. “A name that triggers a range of emotions in anyone who’s had the displeasure of crossing paths with her.”

Juliette’s eyes bore into Nazeera, the desire for information evident in her gaze. Warner’s interest was piqued as well. Ibrahim keeps talking about Rhodes for the past few minutes.

Apparently, Astrid Rhodes is an absolute nightmare.

After Warner survived Zayden Knox’s awful personality and relationship with you, you started dating someone who’s a hundred times more annoying.

Astrid Rhodes. Hell, you never learn do you? It’s clear that Rhodes is not really a good choice to have someone as significant other. She was Toxic, Manipulative, gold digger, and most importantly a cheater. She has multiple allegations of cheating on her past lovers, which she constantly denies. Jesus Christ.

__

Warner entered a vacant room to get away from everyone for a moment, he was overwhelmed with everything. He saw the door swung open, finding you entering the very same room, you locked eyes with him, shocked.

“Hey, Aaron.” You greeted, taking a step in front of him.

“Hey yourself.” he replied, a smirk tugging his lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, while inspecting the room.

“To avoid everyone talking to me, they keep hovering over me. What about you?” Warner asked back, looking around the room.

“Taking a breather. Everyones being a bitch.” you replied, smirking down at warner.

“You know, You’re not as invincible as you think, Warner. One day, you’ll be knocked off your pedestal.” you added as you watched him stepping closer to you, the proximity between you both electric.

“And you think you're the one to do it?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the challenge in his eyes a dare you could not resist. “Watch me.”

His lips curved into a wicked smile, a glint of something more in his gaze. “Perhaps I will.”

“You know everyone keeps comparing me to you, it’s getting annoying, really” you suddenly said, starting a conversation so it won’t be awkward.

“Oh yeah?” Warner said, smirking. His eyes on you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

“Yeah—God, I hate you.” you muttered

“Say it again.” he countered and you feel like you are going insane. Oh My god.

“Would you love me to whisper it in your ears?” You teased back.

Warner was speechless. Aaron warner doesn’t get speechless—yet here he is. A comfortable silence settles between you two, The tension between you two crackled like electricity. As your teasing reached its crescendo, a moment of silence suddenly settled over you guys. The heated exchange had given way to an unexpected pause, and your eyes met his. In that unguarded second, the tension shifted from amusement to something else entirely.

“Aaron?” you questioned, noticing his silence.

“You gotta stop doing that.” he mumbled.

“doing what?”

Saying things that makes me want to kiss you.

Silence.

Warner found himself drawn closer to you, a gravitational force he couldn’t resist. The background noise faded into a distant hum as he closed the physical gap between you and him, only a meter away. The playful glint in his eyes had transformed into something more primal, more intimate. He’s now looking at your eyes then to your lips.

God, He wanted to kiss you and kiss you and kiss you over and over again. Hell, he was going insane. Do people normally lose their mind like this?

He couldn’t fight again. He couldn’t. If you kissed him right then and there he wouldn’t be able to do anything but kiss you back. And he’s afraid that he won’t be able to stop.

So Warner did the imaginable. He cupped the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. With that, he cupped your cheeks, green eyes drawing to yours, he shooed some hair strands from your face.

Aaron can’t breathe. It’s like you have stolen every oxygen he has.

You put your hands to his waist, and it was over.

So, he kissed you. He kissed you. Without warning, without permission, without thinking. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else. He had to grab back the breath you were holding. It belonged to him, and he wanted it back.

The kiss began to get more heated as he grabbed your waist and pulled you in close. Your hands wandered his back as he grasped at you. He kissed you and you kept kissing him back. Before giving you a calm kiss on the neck, Warner’s mouth lingered over your skin. He might even taste your skin. In his case, it was needed.

He needed to do it, and he was not going to leave the room until he had. He deepened his kiss by wetting your flesh. With the knowledge that it would leave a mark, he sucked and held it between his teeth.

It was also what he longed for since it was his only opportunity to be with you. With every whisper and every plea that you made for him, he felt the skin of your throat vibrate.

After a while, you guys pulled apart, stunned looks visible to each other. He saw the mark on your neck and he couldn’t help but feel proud about it. A hickey on your neck. And it was him. Aaron Warner who had done it.

He had tasted your skin.

Warner opened his mouth to speak but he quickly closed it, unable to form some words to his mouth.

“Aaron-” You started but Warner was quick to shut you up by raising his index finger.

“Don’t say anything.” he told you with a sorry eyes and he left.

He fucking left.

___

Never before have you experienced being so entirely consumed by a kiss. Suddenly, the void that existed between the two of you ruptures into a whirlwind of sensations. Warner’s heart skips its rhythmic beats; his hands desperately pull you closer, attempting to erase any remaining distance.

The taste of you on his lips is a revelation, making him aware of a profound hunger that had been gnawing at him. Though there have been previous kisses, none have ignited him with such an all-encompassing fire. The passage of time becomes a blurred concept—perhaps it’s a fleeting minute, or it could be an endless hour.

The only certainty is the memory of that kiss, the gentle caress of your skin against his, and the realization that, even without prior knowledge, he has been longing for this very moment throughout eternity.

Kissing You is like getting struck a million times by lightning. The way our lips initially brush before melting together has a thrilling intensity. His ears are able to hear the beat of your heart.

His stomach’s begging fire keeps burning hot and boldly, seeping through layers of muscle radiating heat off his skin. It burns inside him like a forest fire and radiates the aroma of sin and the sanctuary.

In contrast, every breath taken by you; the person whose lips taste like sea salt and fresh snow causes his lungs to fill with water, causing him to be drowned helplessly.

As consuming as it is, Aaron Warner’s primal desires carve a divide between you and harsher traits. He becomes a pristine canvas under your touch, molded by your influence, and he has never been this close to God before.

He knows a religion and God has no use to people like him, but God, you are a temple and He is a sinner in need somewhere to worship.

He feels your soul entangle and untangle an endless cataclysmic cycle as both of your tongues engage in a wedding dance, sending him to the highest of highs and sending him drifting

down,

down,

down.

Down into a glorious drop.

He is sent into a stupor by your hands because they are destitute and devouring. His desires, deceitfully sweet, stain his clothing with sin and sweetness Warner welcomes the waves with all the lightning, fire, drowning, and heaven-and-hell he can muster despite the waves getting rougher and calmer with each passing minute.

Aaron Warner is at your mercy.

___

Weeks goes by since the kiss happened on Valentines day, warner has found himself thinking about you than a normal person would be. Now, he’s strutting down the hallways of the school and then, he sees You and Astrid Rhodes. She was sucking at your neck. He tightened his lips and left the scene quickly.

However, he couldn’t help but believe Astrid Rhodes wasn’t worthy of tasting your skin.

No, not at all.

___

Warner have decided to hate Astrid Rhodes with burning passion. The way she always flirt with other people despite having a situation-ship with you, the way she have always used your name in her needs, the way she asked for your money, the way she manipulates you, the way she mock you behind your back and the way that she always swear in every word she ever uttered. It’s like she’s a kid who learned a new word that she keeps using.

Praying for Astrid Rhodes’ downfall is not enough, he needed to participate in it.

So, Warner took things into his hands.

As Astrid’s accusatory words sliced through the charged atmosphere, Warner’s gaze remained unyielding, a calm facade masking the tumultuous storm beneath. Her reaction was expected – after all, he had just confronted her about something he had witnessed, something that had ignited the flames of his determination to expose the truth.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Warner!?” She shouted at him, voice rose with anger. “You are fucking crazy, stop making up things you fucker” Rhodes continued. Warner has caught her making out with someone, and apparently Rhodes did not take it well when he told her that he’s going to tell you of what he saw.

“Does that make you feel better?” Warner said, bored eyes clear on his face.

“Excuse me?” Astrid furrowed her eyebrows.

“Cursing. Is it an essential component you can’t live without? The constant repetition of those crude and vulgar language in every sentence you utter is truly unbearable.” Warner’s voice speaks so confidently as he towers over Rhodes, whose eyes filled with rage.

“You know, Y/N does not like people who swear a lot. I’m sure she will break up with you sooner or later, no doubt.”

The palpable tension in the room hung heavy, almost suffocating, as Aaron Warner faced Astrid Rhodes with an intensity that matched the burning passion he felt within. There was no denying the ire that had taken root in his heart, festering with each of Astrid’s actions that grated on his nerves like sandpaper against his skin.

Astrid’s eyes sparked with a mixture of fury and defiance, her nostrils flaring as her fists clenched at her sides.

“Oh, so you're the judge of what's insufferable now?” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “Is that your new role in this little drama?”

Warner’s expression remained unflinching, his gaze piercing through the chaos of their exchange. “It’s merely an observation,” he replied calmly. "And observations tend to highlight patterns. In your case, it’s the pattern of manipulation, profanity, and disrespect."

Astrid's eyes blazed with a fire that matched her fiery words. “And why the fuck do you care, Warner? It’s not your life, your relationship, your problem. So, fuck off.”

Warner's lips curved into a knowing smile, a spark of challenge in his eyes. “Oh, but that’s where you’re mistaken, Astrid. It has become my problem when it involves someone who’s… family’s close to mine.”

The air between them crackled with tension, his words hanging in the space between them like a charged current. Astrid’s posture wavered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features before she straightened herself, her defense mechanisms snapping back into place.

“Y/N doesn't need you fighting her battles, Warner,” Astrid retorted, her tone dripping with disdain. “If she hasn’t noticed your chivalrous efforts by now, maybe it’s time to accept that you're not the hero she’s been waiting for.”

Warner’s gaze remained unwavering, his voice tinged with a mixture of resolve and frustration. “Maybe it’s time for you to understand that genuine care doesn’t require fanfare, Rhodes. And maybe it’s time for you to grasp that the person you're manipulating and using deserves better than this.”

Astrid’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and disbelief, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “You don't know anything about us, Warner.” Warner leaned in slightly, his voice a low, deliberate murmur. “I know enough to see through the facade. I know enough to recognize when someone is taking advantage of someone else’s kindness.”

Astrid's laughter was bitter, a sound that resonated with a hint of desperation. “You’re so damn self-righteous, aren’t you? Acting as if you’re the hero of your own story, here to save the day.”

Warner’s expression was unyielding, his words measured and unwavering. “I’m not here to be a hero, Rhodes. I’m here to ensure that someone isn't being hurt by someone who claims to care about them.”

The silence that followed hung thick in the air, a poignant reminder of the tangled emotions and complex dynamics at play. Warner’s gaze never wavered, his stance unyielding as he awaited Astrid’s response.

Finally, she spoke, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and resignation.

“You’re deluded if you think you can change anything, Warner. Y/N will see through your charade sooner or later.”

Warner’s lips curved into a rueful smile, he laughed incredulously, making Rhodes look stupid. “That’s so much coming from you, hypocrite.”

As his words flew out of his mouth, the room felt heavy with the weight of tension. Astrid Rhodes stormed out after that.

___

A day after that, Warner heard a commotion outside the library, he heard a shout that he knew who the owner was as he had received the same one just yesterday, Astrid Rhodes. As he entered the common room, Warner got greeted by Astrid Rhodes shouting profanities, rude things, and accusing you of cheating on her. Warner couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Rhodes has the nerve and audacity, doesn’t she?

Choosing to remain inconspicuous, Warner settled into a quiet corner where he could observe the unfolding drama without drawing attention to himself. It seemed the entire room was aware that Astrid was weaving a web of lies, yet they were captivated by the scene as it played out. Glancing up at you, he noted your bored and unamused expression, flanked by friends who were shooting daggers at the girl.

“How could you fucking do this to me!? After all we’ve been through! You are so fucking unbelievable!” Rhodes shouted as she sobs at her hands.

Warner heard a few murmurs beside him.

“Damn she’s committed to this act, isn’t she?”

“Best actress goes to Astrid Rhodes!”

“Nah, this is wild. She have the fucking audacity it’s funny.”

“Do she expect everyone to believe her bullshit this time”

“She’s so bad at this shit. I’m out”

“People like her give theater kids a bad name.”

“Kudos to her for having the fucking nerve to pull a stunt like this ‘cause I would never”

“I’m done with you! We’re done, y/n. I’m never seeing you again.” Rhodes added, she has also added a few more insults and vulgar words. She looked at you expecting an answer.

Warner saw you sighed and put both of your hands to your lap as you stood up,

“Are you done with your theatratics now?”

You question with a monotone voice, laughter can be heard from few people.

Astrid only stared at you bewildered and ran outside the room while shut the door harshly. Everyone is now laughing while they gossip about what just happened.

“Alright, Show is over, everyone!” Kishimoto shouted.

Warner comes out of the corner, taking a step to you, “y/n?” He called out. Warner was sent with a curious look from everyone. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “care to join me outside?” You nodded as you followed Aaron Warner outside to go to the field.

“Well, that’s quite a funny show.” He started, you laughed at his statement.

“Yeah, we’ll, I’ve been expecting it, really” you said while laughing.

“Congratulations either way, you’re finally free from that psycho.” He said, green eyes looking at you once again, amused.

“Oh why thank you, dear.” You replied with the same tone he used.

“Honestly, I don’t know how she thought that would work,” you said with an incredulous shake of your head. “It was like watching a bad soap opera.”

Warner chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling. “I must admit, she’s not exactly the most convincing actress.”

“She should probably stick to other pursuits,” you added with a teasing grin.

“I agree. Perhaps she could take up interpretive dance or something equally entertaining,” Warner replied, a playful glint in his gaze.

You both shared a genuine laugh, silence then took over the air as you guys settled in a particular tree, you both took a seat to its shadow.

“Sooo…” you started, awkwardness settling the air.

Warner laughed at this. A smile took over his face and then you stopped laughing, noticing something in his face. Dimples. Aaron Warner has dimples. Oh sweet Jesus.

Warner took notice of this, “what’s wrong?” He asked. You shake your head as you drag your finger to poke at his dimples. Warner froze at this action, you took away your finger from his cheek as you looked away for a moment, feeling embarrassed.

“Sorry. Just noticed your dimples. It’s cute.” You started with rosy cheeks painted on your face.

“Yeah?” He asked smugly. Oh god this egotistical man. You only hummed in response.

Silence took over once again.

“So, are we gonna talk about what happened on Valentine’s Day?” You started once again. Warner however visibly froze at this.

“Listen, y/n, I apologize for my action, really. It was a mist-“ before he could finish his sentence you cut him with a question.

“Do you regret it?” You asked. Warner looked hesitant for a second before he opened his mouth.

“No. I didn’t.” In fact, he would do it over and over again if you would let him.

Warner opened his mouth to apologize again but you once again cut him off but this time, by kissing him.

You have kissed him. You have kissed Aaron Warner. You kissed him. And you keep kissing him.

Everything is now shattered.

Warner was surprised with this but he then went with it.

You then climbed up to his lap as he pulled you closer to him, hands now at your lower back and to your waist.

As your lips journeyed down the curve of his neck, Warner experienced a sensation akin to hot wax trailing over his skin. The heat of your touch left an indelible mark on his senses, searing a path that he longed to be etched into his very being. There was an urgency in his desire, a need for that imprint to be imprinted with a fervency that matched the fire igniting within him.

Every brush of your lips felt like a deliberate touch of molten heat, the intensity of your movements branding him in a way that transcended the physical realm. It was as though your touch held the power to carve a mark into his very soul, to leave an impression that would linger long after the moment had passed.

Warner's thoughts raced, the pounding of his heart matching the rhythm of your explorations. He found himself craving the sensation of your touch, yearning for it to leave a lasting reminder of this shared intimacy. He wanted more than just a fleeting connection – he wanted a testament, a symbol that would endure even when the fervor of the moment subsided.

In that instant, he realized that this was more than just a physical exchange. It was a declaration, a silent plea for permanence, a desire to mark this moment in a way that words could never encapsulate. The sensation of your lips against his skin was both an offering and a promise.

As your lips continued their descent, Warner surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotions surging within him. He allowed himself to be consumed by the heat of the moment, the fervent desire for a mark that would transcend the boundaries of time and space. He craved the sensation of your touch, the imprints of your presence on his skin serving as a tangible reminder of this shared vulnerability.

And as your lips met the juncture where his neck met his collarbone, a surge of longing coursed through him. He wanted this mark to be a testament to more than just physical desire – he wanted it to encapsulate the layers of emotion that had woven themselves into their complex dynamic.

In that moment, as your lips lingered against his skin, Warner felt a mixture of vulnerability and strength. He surrendered to the intensity of his desire, allowing it to consume him in a way he had never thought possible.

You both stayed like that for a while, not until Kishimoto's voice was heard calling your name from a distance. When you both pull away you guys have a red face and we’re breathing heavily.

As you walked away, Warner was left with the lingering heat of your touch, the mark you had left behind serving as a testament to the moment they had shared. And as he traced the invisible imprint with his fingertips. What just happened?

___

Week later, Astrid Rhodes got expelled from the school. The reason? No one knows.

Not long after that incident, Warner heard the most horrid thing ever known to a man the moment he heard that you began your very long and confusing on and off relationship with Kenji Kishimoto.

God damn it.

Juliette Ferrars.

You and Kishimoto broke up once again for the second time this year, a month in from your break up, you have a new girlfriend. The same can also be said from kishimoto.

He remembered very well that it was the day on March 21st when you announced your relationship with Juliette Ferrars. Juliette Bloody Ferrars. Juliette Perfect Ferrars. Your newest girlfriend.

Juliette was really a step up from Rhodes, everybody could agree on that.

Ferrars was gorgeous, ambitious, confident.

And she was extremely smart, Juliette Ferrars was the dream of any parents for their children. You even had taken her to meet your parents.

____

Juliette Ferrars Birthday Party,

May of 8th, Circa 2038.

The night was alive with the promise of celebration as he made his way to Ferrar’s birthday party. The stars above were scattered like diamonds across the velvety canvas of the sky, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass and laughter. The venue glowed with twinkling fairy lights, casting a warm and inviting glow that welcomed all who approached.

As Warner walked up to the entrance, the sounds of music and chatter grew louder, creating a vibrant backdrop for the festivities. The door swung open, revealing a scene of merriment. Colorful decorations adorned the walls, and a table groaned under the weight of tantalizing treats and a towering birthday cake.

Warner stepped into the vibrant atmosphere of the party, the lively energy wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The chatter of friends catching up and the clinking of glasses created a harmonious symphony that echoed through the room. Balloons in a riot of colors hovered above, swaying gently as if dancing to the rhythm of the music.

As soon as he entered, he saw you.

Amidst the lively crowd, Warner’s eyes were drawn to you. There you were, amidst a whirlwind of movement, dancing with none other than the birthday girl, Juliette Ferrars. Your smile was a beacon of pure joy, radiating the kind of happiness that could light up the entire room. Warner’s heart seemed to skip a beat as he watched the two of you move in sync, the laughter on your lips infectious.

Juliette, with her graceful movements, complemented your dance perfectly. It was as if the two of you were lost in a world of your own, the surrounding party fading into the background. As soon as you twirl Ferrars around, you kiss her and when you pull away, you guys laugh, you look around the room and you’ve caught a familiar gorgeous green eyes. You smiled At Warner, about to wave at him but Ferrars caught you in another kiss.

It hit him like a knife to the heart. He hoped his face didn’t express the disappointment he felt.

Why does he feel like this?

He doesn’t care. He should not. Aaron keeps thinking the same dialogue over and over again in his head. He doesn’t care. He really didn't, So, he found himself in a mini bar drinking his bitterness away.

The soft glow of the bar’s neon sign beckoned like a warm beacon on a cool evening, the gentle hum of chatter and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop. The air was thick with the aroma of various drinks, and the low murmur of conversations of the other guest beside him.

Settling onto a barstool, Warner ordered another one of his preferred drinks and watched as the bartender expertly mixed it. The clinking of ice cubes and the sound of liquid pouring were oddly soothing. God, he’s dru—no, just tipsy.

As Warner took another sip, a presence approached the bar. It was Ferrars. Hell, what would she want from him now? Parade her win? She slipped onto the stool beside him, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, well, fancy meeting you here.” Warner only hummed in response that made Ferrars scoff. He heard her ordered a drink for herself.

“Why don’t you join us outside, Warner? Instead of just sticking yourself in this bar.” Ferrars started as she took a sip of her drink after saying those words.

“This party is boring.” Warner said, plainly.

“This is my birthday party.” Juliette deadpanned.

“Oh, right.” Warner only received an eyebrow raise in response, expecting something from him. Hell.

“Happy birthday.” Warner said with a sarcastic and plain tone.

“Wow. Okay. Thank you.” Juliette says, “My lo—y/n talked about you.” Ferrars continued. Warner had caught the slipped up of the pet name. My love. Hell, Warner is gonna vomit.

“Only good ones I hope.” He replied as he took a sip to his drink.

“She told me The Camping Trip incident.” Juliette says as she laughed, recalling the story that you have told her.

Warner was surprised. “Oh that,” he chuckled, the memories flooding back. “We practically lived on marshmallows and terrible ghost stories.”

Ferrars laughed, her expression a mixture of fondness and amusement. “And that time you guys got lost in the woods, and you were convinced that you all were in some kind of Blair Witch scenario.” Warner scowled in response.

“Hey, it was dark, and those trees all look the same!” Warner reasoned. Juliette only laughed harder.

“Didn’t you try fighting a bear? Surely you can’t reason that stupid action.” She says as she looks at Warner, challenging him.

“I was young.” Warner defended himself. Juliette only hummed as she drank her glass.

“You were young and stupid, Aaron.” The next voice that sounded through the kitchen made Warner’s heart stop for a moment. Warner saw Ferrars go to you to link her arm through yours.

He needs another drink.

“Was I?” He countered with a smirk.

You laughed in return, mirroring his smirk.

“My darling, shall we dance? It will be midnight soon. My birthday would end in like 30 minutes.” Juliette said, looking between You and Warner with a frown.

“Oh, sure, love,” you kissed her lips and led her back to the party. Warner felt himself breathing again when you were out of sight.

____

In a matter of moments, Warner found himself aimlessly wandering through the sprawling house, Laughter echoed in the halls, intertwined with the gentle strains of music.

Every door he passed seemed to hold a couple engrossed in their own world, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sheer display of affection in hoping to discover a new vacant bathroom that wasn't occupied by overly affectionate couples lost in each other's company, as the party started to wind down, Warner found himself outside Juliette Ferrars room.

He was not intentionally eavesdropping, but the voices from inside were hard to ignore.

“It’s just... it’s complicated, okay?” your voice sounded frustrated.

“And I get that, but it feels like you are not fully here with me,” Juliette's voice responded, a blend of hurt and concern woven into her tone.

“And the way you looked at—” Juliette's voice trembled, and her words came to an abrupt halt, as if she were struggling to contain her emotions. Aaron paused, his gaze settling on the partially open door of Ferrars' bedroom.

Warner found himself in an inadvertent state of eavesdropping, his guilt mingling with his intrigue. The words exchanged between you and Juliette were raw and real, and he couldn't help but listen, drawn into the unguarded exchange.

“Juli, it’s not what you’re thinking,” you softly said.

“ Is it not?” she said. You guys were in the middle of the room, fighting if that is not clear enough.

“I thought-” she choked a bit. Voice trembling.

"Juls-"

"No, baby," Juliette responded, her tone unwavering, your emotions laid bare. “We were... I thought—“

A heavy pause followed, and Warner could almost feel the weight of the conversation. Warner hears ferrars sighs.

“you even let me met your parents, and I remember thinking that our future seemed fucking promising..”

“We still can—We still have that future.” you insist, determined.

Juliette let out a pained laugh.

“No, we don’t, because you have never looked at me the way you looked at him tonight.” Juliette’s voice trembled, revealing a vulnerability she rarely displayed. But despite that, she delivered the line harshly.

Warner's brows furrowed as he tried to piece together the puzzle. Who were you and Juliette talking about? He couldn't shake off the curiosity that gnawed at him, urging him to understand the source of your conflict.

Is it Kenji Kishimoto?

Warner’s curiosity got the better of him as he strained to hear the conversation. You guys were arguing about some 'him' , but the details were hazy. He couldn’t help but wonder who that ‘someone’ was.

“Please, just listen-” your voice was soft, a plea laced with frustration.

"You're not dishonest, my love," she interjected, her tone adopting a more tender and sweet quality. "Just tell me you prefer me, you choose me, you love me more than you love him. If you can, I'll put it all behind us. I will forget about it."

You went dead silent.

The silence that followed your response was deafening. Warner could practically feel the tension in the room, the unspoken emotions hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. It was as if a connection had snapped between you two, leaving behind a void that neither of you knew how to bridge

“I’m so sorry,” you finally whispered. The weight of your words is palpable.

Juliette sighed. Expecting the answer, Warner can see her holding down the sobs.

“Let’s just enjoy the rest of the party, shall we?” Ferrars voice was tinged in sadness. “We can talk about this later. Let's have a last dance.”

He swiftly turned away from the door, his steps quickening as he made his way down the hallway. He needed to retreat, to give you both the privacy you deserved. Warner got away quickly to the bathroom

Inside the bathroom, he washed his hands, his gaze lingering on his reflection in the mirror. Confusion knitted his brows together as he replayed the fragments of your conversation in his mind.

Were you guys talking about kishimoto?

The thought struck him like a jolt. Could it be that you were struggling to move on from him? The image of Kenji, charismatic and charming, filled Warner's thoughts, and he couldn't help but question the impact he had on your relationship with Juliette.

Is it because you just couldn’t get over him?

If you broke up with Juliette Perfect Ferrars because of Kenji Kishimoto, did anyone else have ever stood a chance with you?

Did he-No.

Warner wouldn’t think like that.

He should not care. It doesn’t concern him.

Warner shook his head, trying to dismiss the idea as he dried his hands. He refused to entertain thoughts that would only lead to unnecessary doubts and insecurities. But deep down, a nagging curiosity lingered—a curiosity that would drive him to madness and insanity.

Days later, Warner learned from Kent and Nazeera that you and Juliette had ended your relationship.

Few weeks after that revelation, news reached him that You and Kenji Kishimoto had gotten back together.

It was clear to him that you always gravitate back to kishimoto.

Killian Déicides.

The cycle has repeated once more—You and Kishimoto have broken up. Again. And months later, you have gotten yourself a new boyfriend. Killian Déicides.

It was the longest you had been apart from Kishimoto, nearly five months—not that Warner was counting.

During this period, Kishimoto had found himself a new girlfriend in the companionship of Nazeera Ibrahim, ushering in a new chapter of his own. The pairing had managed to raise eyebrows and ignite conversations, sparking intrigue among your shared circle from other people.

Apparently, you were okay with this. Which is something that surprised Warner. I mean, your ex-boyfriend is dating your best friend? And you’re fine with this? Ridiculous.

From a distance, he observed with a tinge of bitterness as you and Killian forged a bond. Every shared laugh, tender touch, and exchanged glance felt like a jab to his chest. The narrative of your relationship unfolded before him like a story he wished he could tear apart, but all he could do was watch as it progressed, unable to rewrite its course.

As he observed Killian, a critical eye analyzed his character, highlighting his perceived shortcomings and fueling his bitterness.

He hates him. Hates the way Déicides can feel your laugh against his lips, hates the way he can rest his forehead to yours and gaze to your eyes as much as he wants, hates that he can make you shiver from his touch, hates him.

Warner didn’t know why it bothers him so much, why it bothers him the way déicides whisper sweet nothings to your ears or the way he has you secured in his arms. It’s ridiculous.

__

Valentines Day, Circa 2039.

The day had draped itself in an air of romance, as couples nestled close to one another, entwined in the celebration of love. It was Valentine's Day, a day that Aaron Warner typically avoided with fervor. Yet here he was, standing alone on the terrace by the garden, attempting to escape the saccharine atmosphere that permeated the place and some insufferable couples. (you and Killian to be exact.)

From his point of view, he could see the couples—some nestled on the couches, the field, library, others dancing under the soft glow of string lights. It was an annoying sight.

He leaned against the terrace railing, gazing out at the garden below. The sun cast a warm sheen over the blossoms, giving the scenery a dreamlike quality. The peace and quiet were a welcome respite from the relentless cheerfulness that had filled the school’s interior.

Yet, the serenity was short-lived. The soft pad of footsteps interrupted the stillness, and a voice spoke up from behind him.

"Valentine's should be about going out and making out with some strangers, y'know."

Startled, Warner turned to find you standing there, a small smile playing on your lips as you joined him on the terrace. The surprise of your presence coupled with the lightness of your words momentarily rendered him speechless.

You stepped closer, your eyes scanning the garden as if searching for those elusive strangers "I mean, why waste it on being alone here when there are so many intriguing strangers out there for you to kiss?" Your tone was light, but there was a hint of mischief in your eyes.

Warner couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, his usual guard momentarily lowered in your presence. "I suppose you have a point," he conceded, allowing a smile to tug at the corner of his lips. "But then again, I've never been one for making out with strangers."

You laughed softly, the sound carrying a warmth that wrapped around his heart. "Fair enough," you replied, your gaze now focused on him. "So, what brings you to the terrace on this fine Valentine's Day?"

Warner glanced out at the garden, then back at you. "Just needed a breather," he admitted. "The whole lovey-dovey atmosphere inside was starting to feel suffocating."

You nodded in understanding, your eyes softening as they met him. "I get that," you said. "It can be a bit overwhelming, can't it?"

"More than a bit," Warner replied with a rueful smile. "But I suppose it's all in good fun for those who enjoy it."

You leaned against the terrace railing beside him, your shoulder brushing against his lightly. "True," you said, your voice quiet. "But sometimes, it's nice to have a quiet moment away from it all."

Warner couldn't agree more. As he looked at you, bathed in the soft glow of the sun’s warm light, he realized that this quiet moment with you was the best part of the day. He had always admired your ability to see beyond the surface, to appreciate the simple moments amidst the chaos.

A comfortable silence settled between you and him, broken only by the distant strains of music and laughter from inside. Warner found himself stealing glances at you, his heart aching with a longing he had buried deep within himself.

Finally, he couldn't contain it any longer. "You and Killian seem happy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your gaze turned to him, and you offered a small, genuine smile. "We are," you replied. "He's been wonderful."

Warner nodded, his eyes tracing the delicate features of your face. "I'm glad," he said, his words carrying a sincerity that surprised even him.

You looked at him for a moment, a knowing expression in your eyes. "But…" you prompted, your voice gentle.

Warner hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "But…?" He urged you,

”There are moments when I can't help but wonder what it would be like if things were different.”

You met his gaze steadily, your eyes filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored his own. "I know what you mean," Warner said softly.

The admission hung in the air between them, unspoken yet understood. Warner's heart swelled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Could there be a chance for something more, or was this moment destined to remain a fleeting glimpse into what could have been?

As if sensing his turmoil, you reached out and gently touched his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. The connection sent a jolt of warmth through him, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe," he said, his voice barely audible,

"Someday, things will be different."

You nodded, a sense of peace washing over you. “Someday,” you agreed, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Together, you stood on the terrace, bathed in the soft glow of the sun, sharing a quiet moment that held the promise of something more—an unspoken hope for a future where the timing was right and love could flourish without barriers.

Until,,,

Warner's heart sank as he heard Killian's voice in the distance, calling your name. He watched as you turned around, your smile brightening as you waited for him to join you on the terrace.

In that moment, all of Warner's hopes and fantasies of having this day with you, just you, were shattered.

He had allowed himself to believe, just for a brief moment, that maybe this Valentine's Day could be different. That perhaps he could have had a chance to be the one by your side, sharing this quiet, intimate moment with you. But reality had a cruel way of reminding him.

As Killian approached, his arm slipping around your waist, It was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

You introduced Dèicides to Warner, the two men exchanging polite greetings. Warner forced a smile, concealing the tumult of emotions swirling within him. He couldn't let you or Killian see how much this moment had irritated him.

Warner watched, a pang of knife hitting him as you and Killian shared a tender kiss. His eyes couldn't help but linger on the intimate moment between the two of you.

"Why do you keep kissing me?" you asked, breaking the kiss and gazing into Killian's eyes.

"Because I love kissing you," Killian replied with a soft, affectionate smile.

So do I.

Damn me, So do I.

Warner thought, his mind betraying him in that vulnerable moment.

He felt a pang of aching, a surge of bitterness, but above all, he felt an overwhelming longing and desire.

Oh, what a person he has become.

I don’t want you to see who I have become. It’s bad, my love. It’s so bad.

He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way. You were with Déicides now. Warner turned away, his fists clenched at his sides, as he fought to suppress his emotions. He needed to remind himself that he should not care. It’s none of his business.

Warner excused himself, citing the need to rejoin the festivities inside. He couldn't bear to stay on the terrace any longer, not when it was now tainted with the knowledge that he would never have this day with you alone.

As he retreated into the dining hall, the sounds of laughter and celebration seemed distant and hollow. Warner found solace in the shadows, cherishing the bittersweet memory of that fleeting moment on the terrace—a moment he had desperately wished could have been his, and his alone.

For a moment there, Aaron Warner really thought he’d have this day with you. Only you.

He’s proven wrong yet again.

__

A month had passed since Valentine’s Day, Warner had done a pretty good job avoiding you and your boyfriend. But despite that, Warner couldn't help but notice the change in your relationship. He observed the way your interactions had shifted, like a puzzle piece that no longer fit quite right. There was an undercurrent of insecurity in your touches, and the kisses that once landed on the lips were now exchanged on the cheeks. Your stolen glances lacked the usual warmth and affection, replaced by something more guarded.

The change in your dynamics didn't go unnoticed by the people around you. Whispers and rumors began to circulate throughout the school, with everyone speculating about what had gone wrong this time. Even Kent, who rarely spoke to either you or Killian, had developed his own theories, all of them far from the truth.

Warner found himself torn between the desire to reach out and ask if you were okay and the understanding that he had no right to intrude on your relationship with Killian. He couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that twisted in his chest when he saw you with someone else, even though he had no claim over you.

One day, as he was walking through the school courtyard, Warner overheard a group of students discussing your relationship.

"I heard they've been fighting a lot lately," one girl said, her voice hushed.

"Really? What about?" another girl asked.

"I don't know, but it's not the same as it used to be. They used to be so lovey-dovey, and now they barely even hold hands," the first girl replied.

Warner continued walking, trying to drown out the conversation.

It annoys to hear others talking about you, dissecting your relationship as if it were a gossip column. But he couldn't deny that he was also curious about what had caused the shift between you and Killian.

A week later, news began to spread throughout the school like wildfire: Killian Déicides had transferred to another school. The reasons behind his departure remained a mystery to most, but the end of your relationship with him was clear. The whispers and rumors that had once surrounded you and Killian now shifted to the breakup, and it seemed like everyone had something to say about it.

Aaron Warner couldn't ignore the news, even though he had been trying to keep his distance. It was impossible not to feel a mixture of sympathy and concern for you, knowing that you were going through a difficult time.

One evening, as he was wandering the school grounds, Warner found himself drawn to the astronomy tower. It was a quiet and secluded spot, far away from the prying eyes and gossip of the other students. He climbed the steps and pushed open the door, finding you standing by one of the telescopes, gazing up at the night sky.

You looked up as he entered, your eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Warner's heart clenched at the sight of your distress, and all thoughts of staying away flew out of his mind.

“Can I hold you close?” He quietly asked.

You blinked once, twice—thrice, it takes a full seconds to process what he had said.

“Oh, I’m so—“

“Of course, you can.”

Now, it’s his turn to blink. You laughed at the sight.

Warner simply walked over and enveloped you in a warm, comforting hug. You buried your face in his chest, and he could feel your tears dampening his shirt.

You didn't say anything, and neither did he. You don’t have to say anything. You know Warner is also fluent in silence as much as you are.

He didn't need to ask what had happened; the news of Killian's departure had spread quickly, and he could only imagine how you must be feeling. Instead, he held you tightly, offering silent support and understanding.

After a while, when your tears had subsided, Warner gently pulled away, his hands resting on your shoulders. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of concern and compassion.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, your voice barely more than a whisper. "No, I'm not."

Warner nodded, his expression filled with empathy. He didn't press for details; he knew that sometimes, all you needed was someone to be there for you. He reached out and wiped away a stray tear from your cheek.

"It's okay not to be okay," he said gently. "And you don't have to go through this alone."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, and it warmed his heart. Warner knew that he couldn't fix everything, but he could be there for you in this moment of vulnerability.

As you both stood in the quiet of the astronomy tower, Warner continued to offer his support. He listened as you talked about your feelings, your frustrations, and your uncertainties about the future. He didn't offer empty reassurances or quick fixes; instead, he let you express yourself, knowing that sometimes, that was all you needed.

After a while, Warner spoke up “I mean, who needs him anyway?” He said, trying to make the atmosphere lighter.

To be fair, Aaron’s perspective on you and Killian’s break up are extremely biased because he only heard one side of the story.

“Yeah, fuck him and his stupid excuses. I don’t need him anyway.” You agreed as you laughed with warner. Dimples.

If you ever fall to your knees, you are sure Nazeera would be there to kneel beside you.

If you get lost in the woods or drowns In the ocean, you are sure that Juliette and Kenji will do whatever it takes to find you and bring you back to the surface.

And if you return to Aaron Warner with a broken heart, you are sure that he will piece them back together with his bare hands—even going out his way to fill in the gaps with his own.

“Right,” he mutters as he watches the whole sky through your eyes. “You have me, at least.” Warner added.

“No,” you correct Aaron, “thank all the gods I have you. Always.”

___

3 weeks after that, You and Kenji Kishimoto have gotten back together.

You always come back to kenji.

You always come back to kishimoto even when you have other (better) options.

Kenji Kishimoto.

PRESENT.

Out of every Exes you ever had, Aaron Warner, has always found himself praying for Kenji Kishimoto’s downfall more.

It was messy. Warner knows it. Hell, even the parents know that you and Kishimoto have a complicated relationship. You guys would break up and then boom, months later you guys are back together.

It was an annoying sight. In all 3 years you and kishimoto are together, there would be no year where you and him have never broken up then getting back together after a few months in.

Kent and Ferrars have decided to join the dance, leaving Warner on his own. Warner quickly found a couch he could sit on. He’s now reading some magazines that were on the table.

“Warner, fancy seeing you here,” a voice drawled, its arrogance evident even in the casual greeting.

Warner’s eyes flicked up from the magazine he had been pretending to read, meeting Kishimoto’s gaze with a thinly veiled look of indifference.

“Kishimoto.” Warner greeted.

Kenji leaned against a nearby wall, his posture casual and infuriatingly confident. “Please, Don’t let me interrupt your reading session, blondie.”

Warner closed the magazine, his patience waning.

”What do you want, Kishimoto?”

Kishimoto lips curled into a smug smile, his gaze holding a glint of something that irked Warner.

“I just thought we could have a little chat.”

Warner's eyes narrowed, his tone terse. “I highly doubt we have anything to discuss.”

Kishimoto chuckled, unfazed by Warner’s obvious disdain. “You know, Blondie, it’s fascinating how much you seem to dislike me.”

Warner's jaw clenched, his voice icy. “How Observant of you.”

Kenji's smile widened, his amusement unwavering.

“Tell me, is it because you’re jealous? You know, you’ve never been one to shy away from competition.”

Warner’s restraint wavered, his temper simmering beneath the surface. ”You’re sorely mistaken if you think I see you as competition.”

Kenji's expression shifted, a flash of something that seemed almost like amusement mixed with genuine curiosity. “Then what is it, Warner? Why do you hate me so much?”

Warner’s gaze hardened, his voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. “You have nothing to do with me, kishimoto. My opinions on you are of no consequence.”

Kenji's gaze held Warner's, the unspoken tension hanging heavy between them. With a sigh, he took a seat in front of Warner. “You’re not very good at pretending, you know.”

Warner's brows furrowed in confusion at the unexpected statement. “Pretending? What are you talking about?”

Kenji leaned back, his posture relaxed. “You can't stand the fact that we've got a history, can you?”

Warner's irritation flared. “History? You mean the endless cycle of dramatic reunions?”

Kenji chuckled. “Exactly. And you hate it, don't you? You hate that there's a part of her life that doesn’t revolve around you.”

Warner's frustration grew, his voice edged with a sharpness. “You're delusional if you think I'm hung up on that.”

Kenji's gaze never wavered, his tone softening slightly.

“You love her.” Kenji said, more of a statement than a question.

Warner laughed with the absurdity, “I’m not in love with her,” he said, “Don't read into things you know nothing about.” Warner Added with a mockery tone.

“Oh, I know more than you think.” Kishimoto said with a smirk.

“Do you ever shut up?” Warner countered back, as he leaned back at his chair.

“Not when it comes to you, asshole.” Kishimoto shot back as he copied Warner's previous action.

“I’m not in the mood to play games with you, kishimoto.” He warned.

Kishimoto only laughed, “are you ever?” He mused making Warner roll his eyes, “besides it’s not a game, it’s just facts.”

“Your interpretation of facts is seriously twisted,” Warner hissed, his voice edged with exasperation.

Kenji's lips curled into an infuriatingly smug smile. “Deny it all you want, but deep down, you know it's true.”

Warner's green eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Just stay out of my way.”

Kenji's laughter echoed off the walls. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“You're pushing your luck, Kishimoto,” Warner warned through gritted teeth.

Kenji's gaze remained steady, unyielding. “Or maybe I'm pushing your buttons.”

Warner's patience was wearing thin. “You're not as clever as you think.”

Kenji's grin only widened. “Oh, I'm clever enough to see through your act.”

“I have no act, just disdain for you.”

Kenji's retort came quick and smug. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Their words clashed like swords, each one determined not to back down.

“Are you ever serious?”

Kenji's tone held an undertone of mockery. “Why so serious, Warner?”

“I'm warning you,” Warner growled, his patience on the edge.

Kenji's eyebrows lifted playfully. “Are you now? What are you going to do about it?”

“You're impossible.”

Kenji's lips quirked into a knowing smirk. “Impossible to ignore, maybe?”

Warner shook his head in disbelief. “Why can't you just leave me alone?”

Kenji's smile remained infuriatingly intact. “Because I enjoy getting under your skin.”

“You're deluded.”

Kenji's expression turned contemplative. “Am I? Or am I the one who's seeing things clearly?”

Warner's frustration was nearing its peak. “Enough, Kishimoto.”

Kenji's voice dropped slightly, a glint of something more sincere in his eyes. “So you understand what I'm trying to say?”

Warner's response was sharp, laced with a mixture of irritation and disdain. “I understand you enough to know I don't like you.”

Kenji's grin was unabated. “And yet, here we are, having a lovely chat.”

Warner's patience was dwindling, his words laced with finality. “Just go away, Kishimoto.”

Silence.

Kishimoto's laughter rang out as he playfully positioned himself by Warner's side. Despite Aaron's attempt to evade, Kenji's agility won out. With a swift movement, Kenji caught Warner's chin, tilting his face in the direction where you stood.

“How about admitting that y/n might have feelings for you?” Kenji quipped, his tone light but suggestive.

Warner didn’t have to admit it. Because he already knew.

Warner shooed Kishimoto’s arm as he leaned himself in, still looking at you.

This, however, did not go unnoticed by kenji.

“I’m not in love with her.” Kenji recalled warners words to his head, but he saw it in warners eyes, the way he looked at you (like right now) it was full of admiration and devotion.

“Aaron is just a friend, kenj” Kenji Remembers the way you assured him, but he saw the way you looked at your feet and turned your eyes away from him to hide the truth.

Everyone could see it. Kenji can see it.

The way Aaron Warners name rolled off your soft lips like a sweet honey,

The way Warner looked at you like it’s his first time seeing the sun,

The way your name rolled out of his tongue as if it’s a prayer.

Full of devotion.

Kenji is sure that Warner could make a religion out of the way your name sits on his tongue.

Kenji’s thoughts were abruptes by Warner who now stood up and clearly went to the terrace.

Of course, Kenji followed him.

“You need to leave me alone.” Warner exhaled.

“Nah, Let’s talk.”

“We already did.”

“Not enough. Let’s talk about you and y/n’s making out sessions.”

Warner froze, he’s surprised. Of course kishimoto would know.

“y/n always tells you everything, huh?” He breathed out.

Ah, of course, you slipped out of his arms, opting instead to trail after Kenji. The plan was to fill him in on the recent exchange – a typical move in your playbook. After all, you and Kenji had an established rhythm: breaking up only to inevitably find your way back together, rendering the current situation a temporary blip on the radar.

That was the pattern, until the next breakup.

“Only the things that actually mattered, I assume,” Kishimoto responded, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness. “You know, Honesty is the key to a good and healthy relationship.”

“You guys are far from a healthy relationship.” Warner told kenji.

“And you think you guys have?” Kenji shots back.

“We don’t have any relationship.” Warner uttered.

“Could have.” Kenji's voice turned softer, almost a whisper.

The words hung in the air, laden with unspoken meaning.

“You were supposed to be broken up.”

A sly smile curved Kenji's lips. “Ah, you would love that, wouldn’t you, Warner?”

Halloween Party, Circa 2039.

3 years. 3 long years. Where You and Kenji were in an on and off relationship. Never so long together, let alone apart. And Aaron Warner couldn’t understand how. How Kenji saw you with other people when you guys were broken up and was fine with that. And how he managed to be with other people with you just right there.

It was messy. He knows it. Things got complicated when Kenji decided to date a friend of yours, but that cooled down.

Warner now found himself in a hallway, once again, eavesdropping on You and Kishimoto’s fight. He didn’t mean it to be in this kind of situation but here he is.

“I’m tired, y/n.” Warner heard Kenji’s voice coming from inside the room. Warner was silent so as not to disturb the couple and also because he was very curious to know what was going on between them.

“It’s the same fucking talk all over aga—”

“And you don’t think I’m not tired too!? ” you cut him off, shouting. You guys were silent for a while, the tension was thick, it was almost suffocating him. So, Warner left.

Hours later, Warner found you on the terrace, your gaze lost in the starry night. He leaned against the open door frame, the soft glow from the terrace lights casting gentle shadows on your face. He smiled warmly at you.

"What's on your mind, dove?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle you.

You turned your head, surprise flickering across your features before a smile graced your lips. "Things," you replied simply, though the weight of your unspoken thoughts was evident.

"Can I join you?" Warner asked, his voice gentle.

"Always," you replied, your smile growing warmer.

Warner stepped out onto the terrace, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He settled beside you, both of you gazing out at the peaceful night sky.

"You look miserable," he observed quietly.

You chuckled softly, the sound like music to his ears. "I feel like it, too."

Warner couldn't help but laugh along with you. "Well, I'm here to keep you company, for what it's worth."

"Thank you, Aaron," you said sincerely, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"Of course," he replied, his gaze never leaving you.

There was a comfortable silence between you, the tranquility of the night providing a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

The evening air was cool, and the stars twinkled in the night sky as you and Warner stood on the balcony, the distant sounds of laughter and music from the party below drifting up to you. It had been a night of celebration, but now, in this quiet moment alone, it felt like the perfect opportunity to speak your mind.

"Aaron, can I tell you a secret?" you finally ventured.

"Always," he responded, his tone warm and reassuring.

You took a deep breath before continuing. "Me and Kenji have been broken up since June."

Warner was hardly surprised by your confession. He had observed the signs, the strained interactions between you and Kenji. Yet, hearing it from your own lips somehow made it feel more real.

"Me and him decided not to tell anyone because we know everyone is getting tired of our bullshit," you continued, your voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecating humor.

Warner shifted his gaze to the starlit sky, his thoughts racing. He wanted to say something comforting, something that would ease the burden you were carrying, but the words eluded him.

"It's nobody's business," he finally said, his voice gentle yet supportive.

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, it felt as though the weight of the world had lifted from your shoulders.

"Soon enough, you guys will get back together. You always do," Warner replied, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

You sighed, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. "That's the problem. I think we are done for good. Finally hitted the rock bottom."

Warner shifted slightly closer to you, your faces now mere inches apart. The soft glow from the terrace lights illuminated the anticipation in both your eyes.

"Aaron," you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips. "Kiss me."

"Kiss me, Aaron Warner."

Time seemed to stand still as you gazed into each other's eyes, the tension between you palpable. But Warner, paralyzed by his own uncertainty, remained frozen.

A few seconds later, you both heard Kenji's voice calling out your name from a distance. Warner reluctantly moved away, a mixture of longing and regret in his eyes.

"Your boyfriend's here," he said, his voice strained.

You nodded, swallowing the disappointment that welled up within you.

At the moment, you achingly wished for him to just please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of just leaving you. But of course, Warner turned and walked away, leaving you on the terrace, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered desires.

As you watched him go, you couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if he had kissed you, if you had both taken that leap of faith. But for now, the timing was not in your favor, and you were left with the lingering ache of what could have been.

As Warner walked away, he harshly bumped into Kenji, not looking at him or saying sorry. He had made a decision, not a smart one. But he had made a decision and he’s already regretting it.

After the Halloween party, by Christmas, you and kenji Kishimoto are officially back together. Again.

You will and always come back to him.

Even when everyone thought (even him) you were never going to come back to him, you did. You always do and will.

___

PRESENT.

As Warner recalled the memory, he couldn't help it but echoed Kenji's question to his mind.

You would love that wouldn’t you, Warner?

“Very much so.” Warner finally admitted.

“Ohh fucking finally. Now, tell me why? What’s the reason?” Kenji dared to ask as he teased him, pushing his buttons more.

“Because none of you all deserved her.” Warner said what he had been swallowing all these years.

Nazeera didn't deserve to be your first kiss. Zayden Knox didn't deserve to be your first boyfriend. Killian Déicides didn't deserve the time he had with you. Surely Astrid Rhodes didn't deserve to have touched you. Juliette Ferrars, who didn't even fight for you. And Kenji fucking Kishimoto, who had you again, and again, and again. And as always, he without fail let you slip through his fingers.

“Wow, okay,” Kenji smirked, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Do you think I'm the one who's breaking up with her? Most of the time, it's always the other way around. If someone is breaking someone's heart, it's her, not me,” he continued, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I'm serious. It might look like I'm the heartbreaker, but it's really her. I'm not trashing her or anything.”

Warner was taken aback. None of this made sense. Could it be that a year ago, on this very day, you had wanted more than just a momentary distraction because you missed Kenji? You had wanted him, and he hadn't wanted you back. He had let you slip away, just like those he had criticized and hated.

“No,” Warner muttered, struggling to find the right words to defend you even though he knew deep inside it was right. He will always be ready to defend your honor, and always ready to reshape the reality of if you were in the wrong just so you can always be right. That’s what he had been doing for the past years.

Kenji took another drag from his cigarette, considering Warner's words. “Anyway, Y/N and I are done for good. We really can’t keep doing this for another year,” he said, his tone solemn.

"Really?" Warner asked, his heart racing in his chest.

Kenji nodded. “Yup. This year was the worst of our relationship, even though it was the one we spent the most time together.”

Kenji sighed, reflecting on your and his relationship complicated history. “I think we've always found comfort in each other, you know? It's like the memories and the time we spent with each other are what we really hold onto, not our relationship. But despite that, we'll always care for each other.”

Kenji gave a knowing look and added, “Nothing will change that.” He said as if it’s a warning to Aaron.

Warner couldn't help but ask, "Why now?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Kenji took a final drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. “Because we need to move forward, to let go,” he said, shrugging. “Because she's finally ready to fight for you, That's what I came to tell you.”

Warner's eyes widened, disbelief washing over him. "We have nothing to fight for," he replied, although it was a lie.

Kenji smiled knowingly. “You should admit it, Warner. If not to Y/N, at least to yourself.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Warner alone with his thoughts.

"Damn him," Warner muttered under his breath, a mix of frustration and longing in his heart.

Aaron Warner.

PRESENT.

He despised them all, there was no denying it. That's what it had come down to.

He acknowledged that the sensation churning in the depths of his stomach was a mixture of hatred and jealousy directed at your former partners. It had apparently been festering there for an extended period, steadily intensifying, and waiting for him to acknowledge it, or for him to stop pretending. It was time for him to face the truth. He was head over heels in love with you, and the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

That he, Aaron Warner Anderson, was completely, foolishly and totally in love with you.

One year ago, on this very day, he had possibly squandered his chances with you. He couldn't help but wonder if he had allowed himself to kiss you that night, could it have altered the course of our lives? We might have celebrated a year together today, an entire year with you.

Warner shut his eyes tightly, just as he had done on that fateful night. He knew better than to dwell on the past, to chase shadows that had long slipped through his grasp. It was a futile endeavor.

His infatuation with you had started when he was just fifteen. He had witnessed your first kiss with one of his friends, and ever since that moment, an empty feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach.

When you had started dating Zayden Knox, Warner couldn't fathom why you had chosen him. He found Zayden shallow and irritating, far from the ideal partner for someone as exceptional as you.

Astrid Rhodes, in Warner's eyes, was entirely undeserving of your presence. He could hardly stand the thought of her sharing the same air as you.

Your on-and-off relationship with Kenji had only intensified Warner's inner longing and turmoil. You broke up countless times, only to reunite even more frequently. It was a rollercoaster of emotions that drove him to the brink of insanity.

Juliette Ferrars, kind and lovely as she was, could not escape Warner's disdain. The sole reason for his animosity was that she had been your girlfriend.

Then there was the matter of Killian, who had never truly desired you, yet had somehow managed to possess you. That had stoked the fires of Warner's resentment even further.

But most of all, Aaron Warner, despised himself. He was utterly foolish for not realizing his feelings for you sooner. He loathed himself for pretending that he wasn't in love with you for more than six agonizing years.

With each passing day, the emptiness in the pit of his stomach grew, a void that could only be filled with one thing—action. He had become his own worst enemy, too afraid to confront his feelings.

It was time for Warner to face the truth. He couldn't continue this way, allowing the hatred to consume him. It was time to break free from the shackles of his own fears and let his feelings be known.

But how? How could he convey this whirlwind of emotions to you? How could he bridge the chasm that separated them, a chasm of his own making?

Warner found himself wandering through the memories of those moments he had witnessed you with others. He remembered the first time he saw you kiss someone, the way his heart ached as he watched from the shadows.

And then there was Zayden Knox, the one he couldn't stand. Warner couldn't fathom why you had chosen him as your partner. He had always believed you deserved so much more.

Astrid Rhodes, a name that brought a sour taste to his mouth. She had never deserved to bask in your radiant presence. Warner had always felt she was unworthy of you.

Kenji, the source of endless heartache. Your on-again, off-again relationship had driven Warner to the brink of madness. The constant separation and reunion had been a torment he couldn't escape.

Juliette Ferrars, a kind soul, but Warner couldn't help but find flaws in her when it came to her being your girlfriend. He couldn't shake the irrational jealousy that reared its head whenever he thought of her.

Killian, who had never truly valued you, had held you in his grasp. It was a wound that festered, fueling his resentment.

And then, in the midst of all these emotions, Warner realized the crux of the matter. He was the one he despised the most. He had let fear control him, and in doing so, he had let you slip through his fingers.

As he contemplated his inner turmoil, Warner knew that he had to find a way to confront his feelings. He couldn't let his love for you remain a silent, unspoken truth. The time had come to break free from the grip of his own insecurities and tell you how he felt.

Warner couldn’t keep this hidden any longer. The weight of his unspoken affection had grown unbearable, and he needed to act. He had to find a way to communicate his love for you, and he couldn't let fear stand in his way any longer.

His heart aches for words he never had a chance to say. He had to find you, to speak to you, to lay his heart bare.

After what felt like eternity, he spotted you across the room. You were engaged in conversation with nazeera and juliette., your smile lighting up the room. Aaron could not tear his eyes away from you, captivated by your presence.

With determination, he wove his way through the lively gathering, his eyes never leaving you. The chatter around him faded into a distant hum as he approached.

Finally, he stood before you, and you turned to him, a warm smile curving your lips. The party continued around you, but in that instant, it was as if everything had come to a standstill.

”Y/N,” Aaron began, “Can I have a talk with you, please?” He asked you, his request hung between the both of you.

You watched him, your eyes filled with curiosity. “Of course, Aaron. Let’s find a quieter place to talk.” you suggested, your voice soft and encouraging. You knew there was something on his mind, and you wanted to hear it.

With a nod, He took your hand, and together you navigated your way through onto a terrace that overlooked the city. The noise from the party gradually faded, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of the night.

As you stepped onto the terrace, the city’s twinkling lights spread out before you, creating a breathtaking backdrop for your conversation. You found a secluded corner and settled.

He took a deep breath and locked eyes with you. “Y/N,” he began again, his voice steady, “Can I tell you a secret?” He asked, and a flashback came into your mind.

The words hung in the air, a heavy pause that seemed to stretch on. The party continued to surge around you, but at this moment, it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“Always,” you said, your voice filled with warmth.

He took a deep breath, his words heavy with emotion. “I’m in love with you.”

“Aaron.” you said.

“I am,” he said. He was staring at you. “I love you. I have been trying to find a word that is something deep and coherent to represent my devotion to you. I wish there was something better than I love you. I really love you. And I want to find out what that means together.” He breathed out.

"Aaron." You said again. Not knowing what else to say.

“And If home is a person, I’d gladly rush at the end of every day to you always, towards you. I carry your name everywhere I go, even when you are not around to hear it called. I recite it like a prayer. You are excruciatingly tender and it happens to be the only language I speak besides devotion,”

Warner reached up to your chin and made you look at his eyes,

"Those eyes spoke to me long enough in a way words could never translate and God knows how I was breaking apart."

You are speechless. Absolutely speechless. You don’t know what to say, you looked him straight into the eyes.

He said it. Aaron Warner finally said it. After those years, he finally told you. And God, he loves you in the same way we’ve drawn meaning from stars placed conveniently beside each other and established faiths out of constellations. Aaron Warner badly wants to carve your name out of stars.

The confession hung in the air, a profound declaration that reverberated through your soul. You reached out and gently touched his hand, a silent reassurance that you were there with him.

But before you could reply, he interrupted you. “Please,” he implored, desperation clear in his voice. “Please ask me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you asked, “Ask you what, Aaron?”

His eyes pleaded with you, and he stepped closer. “Ask me again to kiss you,” he said, his desperation visible to his voice.

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. You had long wondered about his feelings, and now he had confessed his love. But his plea for you to ask him to kiss you revealed the depth of his desire. You could see the depth of his longing, the yearning he had held back for so long. It was a silent plea.

The world seemed to hold its breath as t And then, The city's lights shimmered in the background as you leaned in, and your lips met in a passionate, heartfelt kiss. It was a moment of surrender, a union of two hearts that had been entwined in secrecy for far too long.

Aaron is still panting from the intense kiss, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as he stares at you with a love-struck gaze.

You reach up and gently caress his cheek, feeling your own heart fluttering as you look into his eyes.

He smiles softly at you and leans in to press his forehead against yours, still feeling overcome by the passion and intensity of the moment.

“You have been driving me to madness, my love.” He says.

“Oh please, I haven’t even been around you enough to drive you mad!” You defended.

“The idea of you then.” He said, as you reach for another kiss.

“Mhm, no more evil exes..” Warner whispers.

“What?” You confusedly asked but was shut down as Warner pulled you in a kiss.

A few moments later, you share a small giggle together, feeling the tension dissipate into a calm but blissful state.

It’s over. He finally won.

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan

+ @reminiscentreader @mrswifeyscoleman @kaileyn-everdeen @marlygee @hazzassmirk @myloveforreading @khaleesihavilliard @etheriaaly @reapers-lover @corpsedoll777 @dahliawarner @addiessblack @i-amtitania @timhalamet @butterfly-lover @scarz-xo @rippahwrites @elijahssuit @s0urw00lf @rifran @iamsatansoul @tqrgvryen

If you wanna be added to my official A.W. Tag list plz lmk!!! 💗

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Dogs

Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader Warnings: violent crime (I mean it is Criminal Minds...), nudity (but nothing graphic/sexual), trauma, nightmares, hurt/comfort, established relationship (let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Takes place after the Tobias Henkel incident (02.14 & 02.15). JJ comes home from this case deeply traumatized and super guilty about Reid, but she's not used to showing emotion or needing comfort. Reader is there to show her that it's okay to be weak.

“JJ.”

She jumped when you said her name, shivering under the shower stream. She’d been in there for over an hour, silent, unmoving. You’d poked your head in to check on her a few times, but she’d said she wanted to be alone. You were worried about her. You’d been worried about her since that call the night Spencer went missing. The way her voice had shaken, you could tell she wasn’t okay, but you could also tell that she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Spencer was safe now, doped up on Dilaudid, but coming off of it safely at the hospital. JJ would still be there if Hotch hadn’t made them all go home to sleep.

It was late, but JJ wasn’t sleeping. At first, she’d had the water so hot you were afraid she’d burn herself, but now she’d been in there so long that the hot water was out, and you could see her body shaking under the cool stream, her eyes glazed as she stared at nothing.

She didn’t talk to you as you stepped into the bathroom, didn’t even look at you. You couldn’t tell if her face was streaked red from how hot she’d had the shower or from crying, but either way it was clear that JJ was not okay.

You turned off the water and she shook violently, whether from cold or trauma it was hard to tell. You tried to meet her eyes but she wouldn’t look at you. It was like she was numb, like she’d gone into some kind of coma. You didn’t know what to do to help her, so you just tried to keep her body safe and comfortable.

“You’re freezing, honey,” you whispered, carefully draping a towel around her shoulders and wicking the moisture away from her body. She let you dry her off, still and silent, like a mannequin. So unlike JJ, who usually liked to be the one in control–of her body and yours.

You gently cupped her face, worry covering yours, then took her hands. “Come here.”

You led her to the bedroom and pulled pajamas onto her. Underwear. Sweatpants, sweatshirt. She sat obediently on the edge of the bed as you combed her hair, tugging her knees to her chest. Lastly, you got her a glass of water and made her drink some of it. JJ didn’t speak once the entire time. She didn’t look at you. She didn’t touch you. Honestly? You were terrified. She wasn’t okay. She didn’t have to be okay, of course. But you wanted her to be able to show it. But maybe this was how JJ showed she wasn’t okay. Maybe it was different from your way.

When she lay down in bed, you carefully draped the covers over her, gingerly climbing in. You watched her for anything–any sign of life, any sign of anything other than being nearly catatonic, but she just lay there, wet hair splayed around her, eyes glazed and distant.

You hesitantly wrapped an arm around JJ’s waist, pulling her gently into you. You kissed her shoulder, using your other hand to run slow fingers through her hair. It felt odd, almost uncomfortable, to hold JJ when she wasn’t also inching herself back to get as close to you as possible. When she wasn’t lacing her fingers with yours, resting her arm on yours. But you held her nonetheless. Whatever JJ needed from you, however she needed you, you would be there.

“I love you, Jayje,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

She said nothing, and you turned off the light, wrapping your body around JJ’s and trying your best to translate all the love and care and devotion you held for her through the fabric of your skin. Soon, you fell into a fitful sleep, JJ bundled tightly in your arms. You’d never let her go again, not when she was like this.

You woke up sometime in the night to JJ turned away from you, sobbing so hard she was shaking and coughing. She was curled on her side in the fetal position, and she looked for all the world like a bedraggled puppy. Your heart shattered. She always tried so hard to be strong. For you. For all the other people on her team that she assumed had it “worse” than she did. And she was strong. She was so strong. But even the strongest people have to let themselves be weak sometimes.

You felt like you might cry yourself, watching her fall apart. “Oh, honey,” you breathed, nearly jumping over her so you could look in her eyes, so you could wrap her up and pull her tear-stained face to your chest.

“Shh,” you cooed, pressing your face against the top of her head as you held her. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“It’s my fault,” she gasped between sighs. “He almost died!”

“JJ, baby, that was not your fault. It could’ve been anyone. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I left him alone,” she cried, shuddering.

“Honey, shh,” you continued, rocking her. “It’s not your fault. Spencer’s safe. You’re safe.”

But she couldn’t stop crying. You’d never seen her cry so hard, so hard you thought she might throw up. You kept shushing her, holding her against you like a baby, rocking her and soothing her. It broke your heart to see her like this. You would do anything, anything, to take away this guilt she was feeling, this trauma that seemed to be swallowing her whole. And, somehow, at the same time, you were also so deeply honored that Jennifer Jareau felt safe enough around you to let herself fall apart. You just wished she didn’t have to.

When her sobs quieted to small, shaky shudders, you brushed her hair out of her face, wiping away her tears. She had huge circles under her eyes, and she could barely keep them open.

“Jayje, honey, go to sleep. It’s okay, I’m right here.”

“I can’t,” she admitted, barely above a whisper.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “How come?”

“The dogs,” she answered, shivering, tears glistening in her eyes again.

Of course. She’d seen a woman ripped to death by starving dogs and then had to shoot the dogs to protect herself. Who wouldn’t have nightmares after that?

You cupped her face, placing soft kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, on her mouth, wet with tears.

“Just try, honey, please,” you begged. “You have to sleep.”

Another tear dripped down her face.

“I’ll stay up, okay? I’ll be right here if you get scared.”

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“JJ,” you breathed, rubbing your thumbs along her eyebrows as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “It’s okay. I love you. Let me take care of you, alright?”

JJ seemed to have used up all the fight in her. She buried her face in your chest, exhaling deeply, and let her eyes stay closed. You kissed the side of her head and cradled her there and as you watched her fall asleep–tear-stained face half-covered by your sweatshirt, fists gripping onto handfuls of it, the little huffs of breath that you knew meant she had fallen asleep–you knew there was not a thing in the world you wouldn’t do to protect this woman.

You were just about to drift off when JJ jerked awake, gasping and flailing.

“Hey, hey,” you said, pulling her close. “It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe. I’m right here.”

She looked around with frightened eyes then, as her heartbeat and breathing slowed again, twined her legs with yours. She wrapped both her arms around your abdomen, squeezing you tight, as if she was afraid she’d drift away in the night, as if she wanted to be tethered to you. 

You held her so tight that night, so close. Usually JJ was the protector, JJ was the strong one, but tonight it was you, and you were glad to do it. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you’d fight off a thousand rabid dogs to keep her safe. That you would enter into the dark recesses of her mind to fight off all the dark things that lodged there. That you would shield her very body with your own.

Something changed that night, between you and JJ. But it wasn’t a bad change. It was like the ringing of a bell, the finding of an equilibrium. It was you knowing that you could be strong, and JJ knowing that she could be weak. It was the somersaulted back-and-forth of a relationship going still and peaceful in the knowledge that you were each other’s lifeline, each other’s outstretched hand, each other’s port of calm in a whole world of storm. It was love that let itself be seen. You couldn’t go back. And you didn’t want to.