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ereardon · 6 months

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Snowed In || Friday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 3.2K

Masterlist here

“And this just in. More than a foot of snow is expected in areas across the Tri-State, with Scarsdale already at seven inches and counting. LaGuardia has shut down their runway, with Newark and John F Kennedy airport soon to follow.”

You groaned, flicking off the TV and opening the cabinets. They were predicting the worst storm in two decades and somehow all you had in the cupboard was a lifetime supply of ramen noodles and red wine.

Outside, the snow was falling in soft clumps. You looked out the window which overlooked Fifth Avenue. Very few cars or taxis were on the road, and the people who were outside looked miserable.

And then the phone rang. You dove for it, expected it to be your mom with yet another tidbit of news that she thought was groundbreaking, as if you didn’t already know that Diet Coke was bad for you, but the male voice on the other end startled you.

“Ella?”

You squinted, pulling the phone back and registering the caller ID. Jake Seresin. You groaned. “What could you possibly want, Jake?”

“Nice to hear from you, too,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. It had been a decade since you last heard from Jake Seresin. He was just as obnoxious as you remembered.

“Listen, Seresin, if you called just to give me shit, I didn’t need a reminder that you’re a dick. Memory serves well enough. Goodbye.”

“El, wait!”

You frowned. “What?”

His voice softened. “I’m sorry to do this,” he said and you felt your stomach tightening. “But you’re the only person I know in the city.” Jake paused. “I’m stuck at JFK.”

“Don’t eat the egg sandwich,” you said, recalling a moldy sandwich you had gotten once at the airport on the way to Berlin. “Have a good flight, Jake.”

“Ella, I’m stranded,” he said and you groaned. “Can I stay with you? Just until the airports open back up.”

You looked outside. In the two minutes since Jake had called, snow had started to fall faster, coating the streets and sidewalks and innocent pedestrians.

“I’m sorry,” he said and for perhaps the first time that you had known him in almost fifteen years, Jake Seresin sounded genuine. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t my only option.”

Jake Seresin. The last time you had seen him, he was standing in the doorway of your college apartment with a bouquet of flowers that Suzannah had grabbed and trampled on in fury.

“Ella? Are you still there?”

“Fine,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Fifth and 12th Street. Apartment 4B.”

“I owe you, El.”

“Two days, Seresin,” you replied. “Anything more and you get a hotel.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

***

You had hated Jake Seresin for as long as you could remember. Or at least, since the first time you saw his smug face in a poli sci lecture. He was sitting in the back, drinking a cup of coffee and doodling on a notebook. At the end of class, he had come right up to you and asked if he could copy your notes. When you said no, asking why he hadn’t taken his own notes, he had called you sweetheart and shot his best grin.

You turned on your heel and walked away.

Two years later, your roommate Suzannah has been stupid enough to fall for his charm, and you were treated to the unfortunate experience of having to listen to the two of them having sex behind the thin walls of your apartment. More than once you had stumbled into a shirtless Jake in the bathroom, smelling like sex and acidic cologne. Once he had walked in on you naked and instead of hurrying out like a normal person, he had leered.

You had doubled down on your hatred for him from that moment on.

When the doorbell buzzed you sighed, peering at the small ring camera before pressing the buzzer. “Come up.”

The minute between buzzing him in and Jake knocking on the door felt like a century. It always did. There was something so awkward about shuffling around, waiting for the door but not wanting to be too eager to open it when the knock finally came.

Taking a deep breath, you swung the door open.

Jake Seresin in the flesh. The same goofy, brilliant grin from a decade before. Sandy blond hair dotted with melting snowflakes, cheeks ruddy and pink from the cold. He wore a light jacket, far too light for the extreme weather, and held a duffle bag in one hand, cowboy boots soggy and wet, dripping on your doormat.

“Jake.”

He smiled, leaning in for a hug and you pulled back at the last second so he stumbled over the threshold. Jake righted himself. “Ella. Still hate me, I see.”

You turned, shaking your head. The sound of the door closing was followed by the plop of Jake’s bag on the ground. “Shoes off,” you called out, and there was a clattering as he kicked off his boots.

Jake appeared a moment later, his jacket removed, revealing a tight henley shirt and a pair of jeans. He took a look around the studio. It was surprisingly large, for New York standards. Not Sex and the City unrealistic, but nice, with an alcove to the right that held your queen sized bed, a large couch against one wall and a dining area in the center.

The galley kitchen off the main hallway was large and the bathroom was relatively spacious for a studio. It had just been you for so long that you didn’t think twice about the size. But something about Jake in your space made you realize maybe it wasn’t as spacious as it looked to your smaller frame. He hulked in the hallway.

“Nice place,” he said. “Been here long?”

“Four years.”

He tipped his head. “Always knew you were going to end up in New York, didn’t you?”

You sighed, plopping down on one end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “What are you doing here, Seresin?”

“I told you, I was stranded at the airport,” Jake replied, stepping forward and taking a seat on the chair opposite of the couch. You grimaced. His outdoor pants were touching your indoor furniture. That was the downside of having guests. If Jake could even be considered a guest. Don’t guests have to be invited? Or wanted.

“On your way to where? Somewhere without extradition laws?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Ten years, Finn. Ten years and you haven’t changed.”

“Have you?”

The words clung to the air. The elephant in the room. It didn’t matter that it had been nearly a decade since the last time you had seen Jake Seresin.

His betrayal still stung, even if it had never been directed at you.

“Ella,” he whispered. Outside, the sky was darkening. Without the constant bumper-to-bumper traffic that was a given on Fifth Ave, the street was uncomfortably dark. There was a dampness that chilled your bones, even from the comfort of being inside. “Please. Can we just put aside the past for the next few days?” He looked older. Small lines at the corners of his eyes. Jake Seresin had a loud, boisterous laugh, you remembered that about him. The way he could liven up a party. The way he could make you feel like you were the only person in the room.

This time you were.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Finn?” he said, bringing back your nickname from college. “Truce?”

You leaned back against the soft white couch cushion. “Fine.”

Jake grinned. It was magnetic and you hated him for it. “Well, let’s celebrate then. Got anything to drink?”

“Been here one minute and you need a drink already?” you asked, standing up. Jake’s eyes roamed over your leggings and sweater as you made your way into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Someone never got over their frat days I see.”

Jake reached out, taking the bottle from your hands and turning it on its side. “You must be doing OK,” he said. “This is a one hundred dollar bottle of wine.” You handed him the wine opener and he undid the top easily, sliding out the cork and laying it on a stack of magazines on the marble coffee table.

“Anything is better than that Franzia shit you used to love.”

Jake ignored your comment, instead turning the bottle and reading the label. “I did a wine tour in Lebanon a few years ago. This was one of my favorite vineyards.”

You frowned, holding out a glass and he tipped the neck of the bottle against the thin rim, dribbling it into your glass. “So did I. That’s where I got that bottle.” You pointed to the 2015 Chateau Musar in his hand.

“What were you doing in Lebanon?”

“Writing a story,” you replied. “What about you?”

“Went with a friend,” Jake said. “We met in Portugul and decided fuck it, let’s go to Lebanon.”

“Still wildly dependable I see.”

“I have a job, Ella. I’m an adult.”

You laughed, tugging your knees to your chest. “Oh yeah?”

Jake nodded, setting the bottle of wine down. You let your eyes roam over his fancy jeans, cashmere socks, shiny watch that you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe he was doing OK for himself.

“Fine,” you said, taking a sip of your wine. “You have a job. Slow clap. Who doesn’t?”

Jake shook his head. “Still bitter,” he replied, tilting his glass to his lips. “Whatever happened to you and Connor Gray?”

“Oh God,” you muttered. “Fuck no. Do you know what he’s doing now? He’s a fucking DJ in Bushwick.” You mimed gagging. “I’d rather eat my left foot than date some Chelsea-boot-wearing guy who drinks craft beer and tries to serenade me on a hot rooftop in Brooklyn on his shitty guitar.”

Jake tipped his head back with a laugh. It filled the room. You had almost forgotten how boisterous his laugh could be.

“What about you?” you asked. “Any poor unsuspecting women?” There was no ring on his finger, no tan line or dent to show that perhaps he was divorced instead.

“Nope.” Jake put his glass down. “Single.”

“Really? Jake Seresin, single.”

“It’s hard out there, Finn,” he said, his voice hitting a register you couldn’t quite place. Something between sadness and begging for understanding.

“You were never without a date to a formal in college. Couldn’t even go out without girls throwing themselves at you.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think the player in you would just shrivel up and die the minute we hit thirty.”

“I’m still twenty nine,” Jake corrected. “And I don’t know what to tell you, El. It was fun for a while. But then I started to feel kind of gross. Like Leo DiCaprio. A new girl all the time. I couldn’t go to a single wedding without people asking about the girl who I had brought to the last one. But she was long gone.” He paused. “Couldn’t tell you the last time I saw the same girl for more than a month or three dates.”

You frowned. Jake Seresin, a reformed manwhore? Not possible.

He shrugged. “There, is that my dues for the night? Told you my dating life so now you owe me shelter from the storm?”

“For now,” you said, standing up. “Interrogation can resume later. I’m hungry.”

“Then let’s eat.” Jake looked outside. “It’s pretty shit out.”

“Agreed.”

“What do you have for food?”

You winced. “Honestly? I mostly eat out, so not much.”

Jake stood up, brushing past you so closely you could feel his broad chest press against you for a second on his way toward the kitchen. “I’ll figure something out. You relax.”

“Relax? With you in my apartment? Fat chance, Seresin.”

He rolled his eyes. “Going to be a long weekend, isn’t it, Finn?”

***

Jake somehow managed to make a perfectly edible dinner out of the almost-expired food in your fridge and what was left in the pantry. The two of you sat at the small two-person table you had pressed against one set of windows overlooking Fifth Ave.

Anyone looking in might think it was a date. Even though Jake had dated Suzannah for almost a year, you two had barely spent any alone time together. That’s how you always tried to keep it with your friends’ significant others. A simple conversation here and there, usually while your friend was showering or getting ready or coming back from the store.

Never like this.

After dinner, Jake insisted on cleaning. As if it would make up for the countless times he had left shit in your apartment sink in college. You stood at the window, watching the snow pummel from the sky, coating the street in a thick blanket that it couldn’t shake. There was no one outside walking around. It felt apocalyptic and you cringed knowing that you still had at least a day alone with Jake and nothing to do but be in each other’s presence.

“It’s dark in here,” Jake said, startling you. You turned as he reached for the overhead light.

“Stop,” you said and he froze. “Lamps, dumbass. Why do men always want to use ceiling lights? Do you like being bathed in fluorescent light?” You strode over to the dresser along one wall, flicking on a candle warmer lamp and another small lamp on the far side of the room. Warm light spilled out into the room.

“Does it matter?” Jake asked.

“Yes.”

Jake shook his head. “Alright, Finn. I’m all yours. What do you want to do?”

“You mean other than throw you out in the snow on your ass?”

Jake stepped closer. “Am I really that bad?” he whispered.

You looked up. Clear green eyes, perfect almond tanned skin. Hair swept back in a carefree manner. You could tell why Suzannah has lost her fucking mind over him all those years ago. He really was too pretty to be true. “Maybe.”

Jake looked around. “Well I would say I can get out of your hair for a few hours, but there’s not really many options.” He was right. Minus the alcove where your bed sat, the apartment was a pretty open floor plan.

“Let’s just watch TV and watch the minutes tick by on the longest day known to mankind.”

Reluctantly, you settled down onto the couch and flipped on the TV. After scrolling for a solid five minutes, Jake groaned.

“What, Seresin?” you demanded.

“Take longer,” he complained.

“Fine, you do it.” You shoved the remote into his chest, trying to ignore how nice his chest felt beneath his shirt.

Jake took the clicker and flicked through the apps before settling on a movie.

“No,” you argued.

He turned to you with a grin. “It’s a guilty pleasure. Humor me, Finn.”

You grimaced as Twilight started. Jake laughed his way through the serious parts of the movie, cackling out loud at the spider monkey bit and you found yourself laughing along next to him. God, Carlisle really was hot. So was Charlie. That’s how you knew you were almost thirty.

By the end of the movie, the two of you had shifted comfortably on the couch. You were no longer three feet apart. Instead, your feet were crossed over each other, almost precariously touching Jake’s where they sat propped up on the coffee table.

It was the first time in years that you could remember sitting through an entire movie without some guy trying to feel you up or make a movie.

The credits started to roll and you reached for the remote just as Jake did. You pulled your hand back like it was on fire and he handed it to you. “Sorry,” Jake said softly. His voice had grown huskier in the hour and a half since the movie started. “Your TV. Your remote.”

“It’s fine,” you said and it was gentle. He smiled. There was something devilish about Jake Seresin’s smile. It was too perfect. You cleared your throat. “I, um, should get to bed

“Me too.”

You stood up, clicking off the TV. The room felt darker without it, just the soft lamps illuminating small circles of light. “I’m going to shower. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows. The couch should be big enough for you.”

“Thanks, El.” There was something so genuine about the way he said it that threw you off. Who was this stranger and what had he done with the dickwad from Stanford? “For letting me stay.”

“See how much you like me after a night of sleeping on that,” you replied, digging in the closet near the hallway for pillows and a comforter, dumping them in Jake’s arms. “Do you, um, need to use the bathroom first?”

“I’ll go after you.”

In the shower, you were acutely aware that no more than twenty feet away, Jake Seresin was fiddling around in your apartment. You had spent hundreds and hundreds of hours with him at Stanford, but this was different and you both knew it. When you entered the living room, steam pummeling out of the bathroom door, Jake looked up from where he stood shirtless in the living room. “Oh, God!” you exclaimed, holding one hand up to your face. “What the fuck?”

“Fuck, fuck, sorry!” Jake grabbed for his t-shirt on the couch, tugging it on. “OK, you’re safe. All clear.”

“This isn’t Barcelona, Seresin,” you complained, stepping toward the dresser and sliding open a drawer, pulling out a pair of silk pajamas. “Or a rave in someone’s basement.”

He sat down on the edge of the couch cushion. “Been that long since you’ve seen a shirtless guy, huh, El?”

You hated that he was right. “Fuck off.”

Jake chuckled. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.”

“Maybe that’s why no girl wants to date you for more than a week,” you snapped. “Because you’re a dick.”

Silence hung in the air, thick like the snow clumping on the streets outside the window. You held your breath, letting your lungs sit there and burn. Jake’s eyes haunted yours.

You felt bad. Never had you ever expected to feel bad for Jake Seresin. Golden boy. Womanizer. Player extraordinaire. But this was obviously a sore spot and you knew it.

He looked sad, sitting in your apartment living room in the near-dark, face drawn and quiet. An unease squeezed at your stomach.

“Jake, I–”

Jake stood, cutting you off. “It’s fine. I’m going to use the bathroom if that’s OK.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You watched his frame disappear down the hallway, rounding the corner into the subway tiled bathroom. As you sat down in your silk robe at the edge of your bed, the silence in the apartment, usually so comforting as an alternative to the bustle of the city outside, felt stifling. When Jake returned in the dark, flicking off the final light and settling onto the couch, you held your breath, waiting for him to say something.

But nothing ever came. The two of you laid there, ten feet apart, separated by a wall of silence.

You had spent ten years who knows how many miles away from Jake Seresin and never given him another thought. Why was it that ten feet now felt like a lap around the equator?

The chill in the room wasn’t in your head and it wasn’t from the blizzard outside. You and Jake had created frost all on your own.

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @fangirlvoice @buckysteveloki-me @eli2447 @bellaireland1981

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin au #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin angst #hangman series #hangman imagine #hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick

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osakiharu · 5 months

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23:30PM : ran haitani

content : gender neutral reader, fluff ig??, … , best friend!ran but you have a sneaky crush hehe, y’all are on ft and ran just gets changed, but he knows what he’s doing >:), ran’s job isn’t specified so you can interpret it however you want — i wasn’t aiming towards anything specific either so go crazy 🫶

words : 665

notes : accept this as my apology for not writing for a while, i’ve had a lot of change recently with uni and whatever and i’ve just been enjoying life but unfortunately i left a lot of my hobbies to collect dust so i’m trying to get back into them all, including writing lmao. anyways time to think whore thoughts of our fav man !!

thinking about best friend!ran being so comfortable with you that he just doesn’t care about what he does anymore or the fact that you’re just friends (much to his displeasure and yours).

“‘m gonna get changed.” you heard ran mumble from the speaker of your phone as you got up to pack up your books for tomorrow’s morning lecture. you gave him a short response from the other side of your room, leaving your phone propped up against the screen of your laptop.

sometimes you think ran gets a bit too comfortable on facetime with you, hell maybe even face to face considering the fact that you two are just friends. wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close when it’s cold outside or when you’re watching a movie. when you’re both exhausted from your respective jobs and fall sleep on his bed, disregarding the plans you’d made earlier. though, of course, you can’t do this without him rolling over to spoon you, his warm chest pressed up against your back with his gentle breaths fanning over your neck. the hand he always has draped over your side rubbing sweet little circles, sometimes even hearts, into the skin if your tummy, coming to a stop when he drifts off to sleep.

but you know ran and he never does anything without a reason, a purpose, a goal in mind, because what ran wants, ran gets. the only thing stopping him from getting it is you. you and your inability to figure out why he does what he does.

a sigh left you as you got up and returned back to your seat at your desk. “earlier I was talking—”

oh. oh…

what you’d expected to see was his ceiling, or maybe a black screen from where he’d put his phone down, away from him changing. perhaps you’d expected him to be finished already, considering the fact that it doesn’t take long to change into a pair of sweats and a shirt. instead, your eyes were met with the sight of ran, shirtless, angling his hips forwards to tie the strings on his sweatpants that seemed to be hanging dangerously low. you stared at the dark ink covering his torso and arm, somehow looking even better under the warm, dim light of the desk lamp that glowed on his pale skin.

“hm?” ran looked up towards his phone through the purple strands hanging in front of his face. you saw his chest jump slightly with a chuckle he couldn’t contain when he noticed your expression — eyes ever so slightly widened, mouth slightly agape. you weren’t shocked or surprised, this is ran we’re talking about, but you didn’t think he’d be this relaxed in front of you. “uhh, nevermind… i was gonna tell you something rindou told me but i forgot.” clearing your throat you averted your eyes back to your essay. the essay you couldn’t seem to focus on any longer.

“you get this distracted when you talk to my brother, too?” anyone could’ve heard the smile in his voice as he spoke. he liked when he got under your skin and made you blush, when you weren’t able to reply with something witty or clever. ran paced around ‘looking’ for a sweatshirt waiting for your answer. “there’s a sweatshirt on your bed, moron.” you chuckled and returned back to your notes. ‘fuck, they ignored it,’ he thought as he sucked his teeth and picked up the black item of clothing. you couldn’t help but peek over to your phone screen to see his back, lean and muscular, moving in tandem with the rest of body. a breath left your nose. fuck.

“quit starin’, sweets,” he turned to face you while adjusting his sweatshirt, “it’s rude to stare, y’know?”

“i wasn’t.”

“sure, y/n” you both grinned at each other, knowing the truth. “now, help me with this essay, will you?” he asked, and you could hear papers rustling and shuffling around on his desk.

GUYYYYSS i literally need him so bad ??!!

reblogs appreciated <3

#ran haitani #ran #ran fluff #ran haitani imagines #ran haitani x you #ran haitani fluff #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran #haitani ran x reader #haitani ran x you #haitani ran fluff

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entumtum · 1 month

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Chapter Two: Partners

pairing: toji x afab reader (used y/n in the fic)

content: jjk college au, fluff, a bit nonsensical, gets a little more suggestive in this one (like 5%? huhuhu)

kinda proofread already hehe

chapter one | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

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“ughh…” the morning rays were peeking through your window as you groaned, smacked your alarm off and regretted drinking so much at dinner the night before. you were invited to eat with your new college friends and wanted them to like you. of course, there was another reason to join them, right?

korean barbeque gave them a chance to see how skilled you were at grilling meat and making sure that everyone was filled and satisfied by the end of the night. obviously, it also gave you a chance to slip Toji more meat slices than the others - your genius (?), subtle way of flirting. you blushed at the thought of your actions and covered your face with the blanket. you remember feeling a blend of pride and embarrassment coursing through your veins as you served him - and was he smirking when you did that? you hope that he was just buzzed from the drinks.

you got ready for your morning lecture, mentally resolving to not be late for anymore classes this term. after a quick shower, you threw on the first things you saw in the closet, grabbed your glasses (the salty dinner made you wake up with puffy eyes that were not lens-ready) and sprang out of the room with your backpack. thank god that there wasn’t a line at the coffeeshop. “one iced latte, extra shot, please,” you mumbled. you couldn’t wait for the caffeine to kick in.

yesss, i made it. the classroom was almost empty and you chose a seat at the back. as you took a few more sips of your coffee and started taking out your stationery, the doors opened and more sleepy students shuffled in. a few girls from your class yesterday, a couple of boys who look like they stayed up all night playing video games, and him.

oh… OH. you did a double-take.

Toji scanned the entire room and his eyes met yours. did he see me? maybe if i looked away, he would think it wasn’t me? (so much for genius, subtle flirting the night before.) you slowly directed your eyes back to your bag and started pulling out your laptop; from the corner of your eyes, you saw him bound up the steps, two at a time, till he reached your row. don’t come here. he walked towards you. don’t sit next to me. he pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down.

“morning.”

you turn to look at him, taking in his messy jet black hair and pretty (so pretty) green eyes, and he gave you a gentle smile, the scar on the right side of his mouth moving up.

“oh, hi…” you began, trying your best to commit to the ‘calm’ persona you showed your new friends the day before. “i thought you were a finance major, what are you doing in a psych class?”

“it’s an elective - psych’s interesting,” he replied. there was a slight pause as he peered at your face. “nice glasses by the way, they're cute,” he commented nonchalantly as he turned to his bag to take out his course materials.

you almost choked as his compliment threw you off guard. “th-thanks, i didn’t feel like stabbing my eyes with lenses this morning.” he let out a small laugh. what is happening right now?

the class was in session and you did your best to pay attention. your eyes kept shifting towards whatever he laid out on the table as you tried to find out more about him - his laptop had a black case, notebook was black, pen ink was black… i can’t read him at all. he didn’t write anything throughout class too, but when he started typing notes, you imagined what those thick, veiny arms could do to you…

“last item i wanted to raise: there will be a report due right before finals that requires you to find one other person to work with. i know some of you joined this class with your friends so i’ll give you the freedom to choose your partners but for the love of god, if you fall out after this, don’t come find me,” your professor warned. you and Toji chuckled.

“i guess we’re partners for this then.”

“hmm? what?”

“doesn’t look like you joined this class with anyone, neither did i. let’s be partners.”

you blinked twice, thrice at Toji and managed a small “sure!” before turning back to your lecturer. you don’t remember how she closed the session nor how everyone started packing up and leaving. Toji stayed seated next to you as most of the students filed out and only then did you start shuffling things into your bag, still reeling from what you agreed to five minutes ago.

“what classes do you have after this?”

“oh! uhh… i’m free the rest of the day,” you said cheerfully, forcing your voice to not crack.

“let’s go for lunch,” Toji said while standing up, his right hand ruffling your hair, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot through your body. you were glad that he was walking away so he didn’t see your face burst into flames.

#jjk fluff #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader

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supercriminalbean · 1 year

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Piano man

BAU x GN! Reader.

Request: I was wondering if I could request the BAU Team x GN reader who knows how to sing and play guitar. The team goes on a case where the unsub is killing people who sing from bars and killing them. Reader decides to put on a little proformance to draw the unsub out but it works a little too well and they kidnap the reader. What would happen if the unsub finds out the reader is a BAU agent? Or do they already know? I would totally love some dad Rossi and Hotch

Summary: The reader needs to bait out the unsub, but what happens when their past catches up with them. They're in extreme danger, but does their team get there in time to save them?

Words: 13.4k

Warnings: Abuse, knifes, drugs, blood. Crying, mental break down, swearing, degrading. Injuries, deaths, panic, mention of sexaully abuse and past abuse. Grooming, killing. (If I have missed anything let me know)

A/N: I'm so sorry for how long this took me to write, um also I kinda took this idea and ran with it, like I didn’t mean for it to become this long. I hope I did it justice and you like it, thank you so much for my first request.

“I got a lead, I got something” Garica squeals excitedly, her face appearing on the tv screen, in the conference room. Her voice breaking the tense silence. At the moment, it's only you, Hotch and JJ in the room, while the rest of the team is out in the field.

“What you got Pen” You're head shooting up at the sound of her voice, gratefully for a lead. The last few hours have just been repeatedly dead end, everyone starting to grow exhausted and hopeless as the case drags along.

“Yes, okay so you know how we couldn’t figure out how the unsub must be meeting his victims will I have found video evidence that places all three of our victims at different bars on open mic night, and damn are they good I mean they are good good” Garcia explains, before putting a video up of elizabeth, the second victim. She up on stage playing guitar singing a cover of Taylor Swift Love Story, her voice as sweet as honey smiling and hyping up the crowd before she starts singing another song. Garcia turns the video off, her face reappearing on the screen, with a pained expression on her face.

“You did say the unsub been cutting out their vocal cords, didn't you?” Garcia groans, her face screwing up in disgust.

“Well, that is one way for the unsub to scope out his victims, and after a show like that random people will be coming up to you all night, it wouldn’t look strange at all if he watches them all night after that” You sigh, feel bad for the victims, they never saw it coming. A fun night out with friends turn deadly, just for sharing their talent.

“So if he goes to open mic nights, all we need to do is find one and scope the place out trying to find him, before he finds his next victims” Hotch states sighing with regret, knowing that the chances of finding him before his next victim isn’t high.

“What if we use someone as bait.. Have someone on stage that can bring him out, see if he is in the crowd” You look up at Hotch as you speak, nerves running through your body at the thought of the lecture your boss is about to give you.

“We are not using innocent bystanders as bait (Y/L)”Hotch scoffs, staring down at you in disbelief.

“I wasn’t talking about bystanders” Your voice goes quiet, taking a deep breath as you find the courage. “I’m talking about me, I can go on stage and search the room see if I can find someone who gives off the unsub energy”

“Can you sing?” JJ asks, turning to you curiously.

“I can, pretty well actually” Smiling at her before turning back to Hotch. “And I can play guitar, I can give one hell of a performance, get him to focus on me, then boom we got him” Smiling hopefully at him, only for him to cross his arms glaring at you.

“I don’t like this, not one bit” He declares. “We need a different plan”

“Well, you better think of one fast sir, because If I remember correctly, there is an open mic night tonight down at Red Cowboys tonight, and I know it's pretty popular” You lean back in your chair, glaring back at your boss, not ready to back down fully.

~~~

An hour passes and the rest of the team has now returned back from the field and has been fully updated with how the unsub finds his victims. Everyone sits around the table throwing ideas around as to how they could try to figure out who the unsub is, but nothing solid really comes about.

“You know I still think (Y/n) idea is the best we got” Morgan pipes up, interrupting JJ.

“No Morgan, we aren’t doing that” Hotch huffs, glaring across the room at the man leaning against the wall.

“Actually Hotch, think about it, I think Morgan got a point here, If we put one of our agents in the unsub way they have a better chance than just anyone else” Rossi speaks up, after staying quiet on the topic.

“Dave, it's too risky” Hotch argues back, earning an eye roll from you and Rossi.

“Hotch, I’m not saying I go in with nothing okay, look all we need him to do is get close enough for him to drug me or something just something that we can arrest him on right?” Staring up at him, waiting for a small nod before continuing. “We get that, I give you guys a sign then you guys come in and arrested him, hey you can put a tracker on me just in case something happens, If that makes you feel better but I doubt that he will get out of the area with me alright” Smiling lightly up at him, knowing your logic and the fact no one else has a plan, means you win. It goes silent for a moment, just waiting for him to say something, after some brief silence, he finally sighs.

“How good of a singer are you?” He smiles a little. Relaxing a bit as he watches a grin spread across your face.

“Oh I am the best”

“Do you need a guitar?” Rossi asks, remembering what you had mentioned earlier.

“Nope, the bar will have one I remember from years ago, they always have a spare” Smirking secretive at them.

“Hang on?” Reid looks at you. “Have you sung there before?” He tilts his head at you, almost like a puppy.

“Oh did I forget to mention that this is my college town and I used to sing at the bar every Thursday night?” Grinning at them, knowing you have oh so many secrets involving this bar.

“Oooohhh I’m going to find videos” Garica exclaims loudly on the video call before disappearing, earning a low groan of regret from you while your team all laughs at your face.

~~~

You climb out of the taxi after arriving at the bar, deciding with Hotch that It would be better for you to turn up alone, just in case the unsub is watching everyone arrive. You walk into the bar, knowing that half the team is already in there, you head straight to the bar grinning even more as you spot your favourite bartender serving a group of college students. You decided to wait for him, standing behind them stopping closer after they disappear with their drinks.

“Hey there John” You smile happily at the bartender, your voice startles the older guy. He looks up at you slowly, a grin spreading over his face as his eyes land on you.

“Holy shit kiddo it's been years, how the hell are you?” He laughs softly, pouring you your usually drink already.

“I’ve been good, missed this place though, figure while I was in town I should come and visit you” Laughing softly, pulling your wallet out ready to pay.

“Put your goddamn wallet away (Y/n), this ones on the house” John smiles, handing your drink over. “Please tell me you're going to sing for us tonight kiddo, it's been way too long,” John smiles, cleaning down the benches. Getting the other bartender to take over as he talks to you.

“Oh I don’t know John, it's been too long. I'm probably a bit rusty now” You tease him, sipping on your drink. “Still make good drinks, thanks John”

“Oh come off it, do you know how much business you and your voice brought me back then, every Thursday and saturday night this place was packed out because of you kiddo” John gloats, remembering back to when you would take over the stage, bringing in crowds after crowds. Everyone gathers around just to hear you sing, watching as you perform for hundreds of people those weekends.

“Oh those were the days, weren’t they?” laughing softly to yourself glancing back at the stage. “You know what John, I think I have a few songs still in me” You wink over at him, earning a head tilting laugh from the old man.

“Good, hey you better sing my favourite tonight kiddo” John smirks, before walking back over to the crowd of customers wanting drinks.

~~~

You walk over to the sign up sheet, writing your name down, glancing up at the stage, where Tom the MC, for the night is introducing the next act. You walk back over to the bar, sitting down before scanning the bar, spotting Morgan and Emily sitting by the smoking door close by the stage. Your eyes next land on JJ and Rossi who are standing by the bar, a few people down from you, keeping an eye on you while still being able to see the whole room.

Half an hour passes by quickly, only about three people have been on stage so far, their songs and performance have been average so far, nothing that would have stood out to the unsub so far. After the last act is finished the MC walks back on stage, smiling as he holds the sign up sheet.

“Alright everyone, so we have had a few good warm up acts and I have something special for all you guys tonight, some of you old regulars might remember them from back in the days, please welcome back (Y/n) (Y/l)” Tom the MC introduces you loudly, beaming over at you. The table just out the door, from the smoking area, breaks into cheer after hearing your name. You laugh glancing over at them, noticing the old faces of your longtime supporters. You jump onto the stage, highing five Tom as you walk past him, forcing yourself to take a deep breath as your nerves start to rise.

“Well hey ya everyone” Grinning out at everyone, picking up the guitar that lays forgotten in the corner of the stage. You start tuning it as you look out at the crowd, nerves from being on stage after years spinning in your stomach, and the fact you're doing this for an unsub makes you feel even worse.

“So I may be a bit rusty. It's been a few years since I’ve done this, but I recognize a few faces out here tonight.” Smirking a little as you turn to the table that was just cheering you on before, strumming the guitar a little. “You oldies are still here huh?”

“Screw you (Y/L)” Jimmy laughs shouting out at you, his table laughing out at them.

“I'm good thanks Jim, but uh, how's your wife?” Sending him a wink as laughter topples around the room.

“Okay okay, I’m here to sing so I’m going to start with one of my favourites, also my old mate John here requested this, so here it goes” Smiling softly taking a deep breath, your fingers findling nervously with the chords, trying to find the right one. Stepping closer to the microphone looking out at the crowds, glancing over at Morgan and Prentiss who just smile encouragingly at you.

“Its nine o’clock on saturday,

The regular crowd shuffles in

There's an old man sittin' next to me

Makin' love to his tonic and gin

You close your eyes as you sing “Piano man” by Billy Joel, strumming the guitar with passion, falling into the rhythm. Your voice is smooth and collected, a smile pushing past the focus that's controlling you.

He says, "Son can you play me a memory,

I'm not really sure how it goes

But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man's clothes"

Your eyes slowly open, smiling widely as you sway along to the music, your table of regulars slowly join in, grinning up at you.

“Holy shit, they’re good” Morgan exclaims, letting out a low whistle, sipping his drink.

“Well, if they continue like this all night, there's no way the unsub is going to be able to stay away from them” Emily smiles at you, taken aback with how you managed to hide this talent of yours from them all this time.

“We need to take them out more often” Morgan grins when you start singing loudly, turning towards the table of regulars, singing louder with them, laughing as you do so. Soon your song ends, laughing softly, forgetting how much fun you have performing like this. But still remembering why you're doing this you scan the room, but you haven't felt any unfriendly eyes on you, yet.

~~~

“Okay, I think I forgot how much fun this place is, well it's mainly you, isn’t that right Harry, my man” Sending a wink over to your table in the doorway, your lovable Harry raises his glass at you laughing loudly. His voice raw from when he was practically screaming the words back at you.

“Okay so are you guys alright If I sing another song, maybe something a bit more upbeat now that I’ve found my voice again” Smirking out at the crowd, your eyes scanning the room once more. The room all burst out in cheers, claps erupts throughout the room, and that's when you get a cold shiver run down your spine. Your eyes glance straight over at Morgan needing to let them know he's here, and you got his attention.

“Alright I guess that's my answer, seeing as I have everyone's attention now” Forcing yourself to smirk at them all, eyes glance back over at Morgan who seems to be whispering into his comms having gotten your message.

“Stranger”

You play the guitar, singing “Hot in the city” By Billy Idol loudly full of passion. Dancing and jumping on the spot, getting the crowd up to join you with your dancing.

“It's hot here at night

Lonely, black and quiet

On a hot summer night

Don't be afraid

Of the world we made

On a hot summer night

Soon a small group is forming in front of you, joining in with your singing and dancing. You can’t help but grin to yourself when you hear your regulars from the table call out names like player and heartbreaker out to you.

'Cause when a long-legged lovely walks by

Yeah you can see the look in her eye

Then you know that it's

Hot in the city, hot in the city tonight

Tonight

Hot in the city, hot in the city tonight

Tonight”

You can still feel eyes staring at you when you sing, you do your best to look around the bar but you can’t see anyone who fits the profile. You decided to sing a couple more songs, making sure you do in fact have the unsubs eyes on you, and that he won’t be able to resist you by the end of the night. By the time you have finished your fourth song of the set, you feel as if you're starting to lose your voice, laughing as you bid the crowd farewell. Promising them that you will be back for a couple more songs later on in the night, needing to rehydrate your throat before you lose your voice all together.

~~~

You make your way to the bar, which now seems to be fully packed, almost impossible to move around. Laughing wildly, feeling many people pat you on the back, praising you as you make your way to the bar. Where John already has your drink ready for you, passing it to you with a grin on his face.

“A bit rusty huh?” He laughs when he sees you smile breathlessly at him, taking a sip of your drink straight away.

“Well maybe I still practise at home” You laugh along with the older man.

“I have always said this kid and I will say it again, you could go so many places with a voice and personality like yours”

“And I have told you a billion times John, that's just not what I want to do, I would prefer to help people than be a performer” You smirk at him shaking your head at him.

“Right so what, you're just throwing all of this away, huh?”

“I guess so but I’m happy so what, plus if I become famous, I can’t come back and perform just for you Johnny boy” Teasing him as he walks off, spinning around to look through the crowded bar. Feeling the icy cold feeling from earlier returning, he's close. You look over your shoulder but all you see is a bunch of college students staring at you smiling and giggling excitedly.

~~~

Throughout the night you don’t know how many times you have felt his eyes on you but you could never pinpoint him down. Multiple people have come up to you to chat and buy you drinks, happily accepting the drinks, but moving on to non alcoholic drinks knowing two in your system is far enough while working a case. Truthly you shouldn’t have any, but you know the unsub is more likely to come after you if you have alcohol in your system, so you took the risk.

As the night moves on you decide to head back on stage, getting a loud welcome as you do. Lots of young college students heading back towards the dance floor ready for the music to start once more.

“Well hey again” Smiling widely as you look out to the crowd deciding you weren't going to focus on the unsub no more. Now it's time to just enjoy the energy the bar has created and do your best to relax. Maybe then something will happen. Picking up the guitar again, smiling at the crowd, your eyes shooting out to your table of regulars smiling at them.

“Alright guys so I'm going to sing one that my old time supports, used to request every weekend, I swear they don’t know any other songs but this” Laughing as you see their eyes pick up, grins breaking out across their faces, cheering breaks out across their area, making you laugh softly as you strum away on the guitar.

Uptown girl

She's been living in her uptown world

I bet she's never had a backstreet guy

I bet her momma never told her why

You smile as the words slide through your lips, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment. Watching as your regulars all get up making their way over to the dance floor to sing along with you. The song moves by fast, doing your best to stop the laughter slipping through your words as you look down the stage, singing the words back with your crowd. The next few songs slide by and you get informed by Tom that you need to start winding the crowd down as the place is going to close in 15 minutes, nodding at him knowing your time is coming to an end, you look back out at the crowd. Looking over at the door where Hotch and Reid have now entered and our now speaking with Rossi, JJ and Pretniss. Morgan stays at his table, just in case you need him, your eyes skim past him and to the table of regulars who half of them have already left but a few of them are still there and someone new has joined them. Your eyes narrow slightly at him, you're unable to see his face, but there's something about his presence that just seems so familiar about him. Morgan follows your eyes then nods at you, knowing to keep an eye on that man.

“Alright guys, so Tom here has just informed me that, sadly our time tonight is coming to an end” You force your eyes away from the man, grinning out at the crowd instead, doing your best to keep up the energy. A chorus of boos and no’s start being yelled from the crowd, making you chuckle at them.

“Oh I know I know, If I could I would stay longer but sadly we can’t do that, but hey we have time for one more song, so why don’t we just enjoy our time together okay?” Smirking out at them, spotting Emily and JJ making their way over to Morgan, your eyes flick over to where Rossi is, seeing him and Reid watching you, smiling encouragingly. Only then do you see Hotch grinning at you, holding up his phone, recording you. You can’t help groan softly before you start singing one last time.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train going anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train going anywhere

You close your eyes as you fall into the song, feeling the warmth of the love of the music fill you up. A small part of you is so excited to be sharing this side of your life with your team, knowing that they would never make fun of this side of your life, it made you feel loved already. Your eyes open again, grinning out at the crowd watching them dancing together, even seeing Emily, JJ and Morgan, swaying away at the table smiling up at you.

Soon the next couple songs come to an end, and you're helping the staff send everyone home, including your team.

“Alright everyone tonights been a blast, but it's time you all get out of here and go home, don’t forget to pay you tab and get a taxi home if need be, no one better be drunk driving tonight” You speak into the microphone a few time, watching as the crowds makes its way out of the bar and off onto the street. Your team makes its way out, Morgan and JJ waiting outside by the entrance for you while the rest wait around the building looking for anyone suspicious.

~~~

You spend about 20 minutes inside the bar, helping the staff pack up, sending a quick text to Hotch letting him know what you were doing. You spent the time chatting away with the staff, catching up with the ones who worked there back in the day you were a regular. Some of your regulars were still around, coming up to have a chat with you.

“I didn’t think you three would still be out this late” You smile at them, feeling tired as the day starts to wind down.

“Well we couldn't leave before we got the chance to talk to you now could we” Jimmy smiles, bringing you into a quick hug. “How have you been, kid?” Harry asks, giving you a firm handshake.

“I’ve been good, I'm actually working for the FBI now, so I have to say I must be doing something right” You grin at them proudly, taking in their impressed looks, reminding the last time you saw them you were a struggling college student who didn’t even know where life was going to take them.

“Holy shit you made it, that's real impressive kiddo” Harry smiles patting you on the shoulder as you three make your way to the exit.

“Woah, an FBI agent, damn and here I thought you would be a singer or something” Jimmy exhales shaking his head. “I knew you were going to do great things but I never expected that”

“Hey, I never thought I would make it this far either but here I am” You smile at them as you walk out the door, spotting JJ and Morgan standing beside the door waiting for you.

“Well, you better not be a stranger, (Y/n) you better come on back and perform for us again” Harry shakes his finger at you.

“Oh you know I will Harry” You laugh softly as you watch them both cross the road making their way to the taxi stand. With one final look around, having felt a pair of unwanted eyes on you since you exited the club, pulling your jacket closer around you, you make your way over to JJ and Morgan, watching their eyes light up as you approach them.

“Well hello rockstar” JJ teases you, earning an eye roll from you.

“Hey, oh I am so ready to go back and sleep right now” You joke, rubbing your arms feeling a cold, given the icy feeling in the air. Morgan can’t help but laugh at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him as you three walk towards the SUVs.

“Well I have to say (Y/n) I do definitely think you got our unsub attention, but damn, why didn’t you tell us you could sing?”

“You never asked” Smirking up at him as he opens the car door for you, climbing in. Morgan and JJ both get in, Morgan in the driver's seat with JJ in the back.

“So, I’m guessing the plan has now changed, Hotch doesn’t want me travelling back alone?”

“Nope, plus we think he is more likely to attack you tomorrow than tonight anyway, Hotch wants everyone to meet in his room to talk to you tonight, debrief there and then tomorrow see if someone new starts following you around” JJ informs you, looking out the window, making sure no one is following you back to the hotel room.

“Right” Sighing softly, laying your head on the window, replaying the night in your head, trying to think if you did see him or not. The only person that stood out was that man in the black and green hat.

~~~

After you make it up to your room, walk into the hotel and up to your room alone. You had discussed with JJ and Morgan that you would go in alone and ten minutes later, when the other four arrive they would all come up and all meet in Hotch's room, and text you to join them. Giving the unsub time to check out where you're staying and let him think you're alone, that is if he's watching you. None of you saw anyone following you but he is good at blending in.

You unlock your door, walking in, shrugging your jacket off before flopping down on the bed, feeling exhausted from the day. You check your watch, noticing it's now two am, you have been awake since six, it's been a long ass day. You sigh softly, struggling to keep your eyes open, your body just wanting to give up and go to sleep already. Maybe that's why you never noticed the wardrobe door creaking open, almost silent footsteps approaching your bed slowly. The thing that does get your attention is the icy feeling running down your spine, your eyes flick open in an instance. Acting on instincts, you roll onto your back away from where you sense thd danger is. You're lucky you do, because as soon as you're facing upwards, you see him. Standing over you, holding a needle in one and a knife in the other. You're regretting leaving your gun inside your jacket.

“Oh shit” Is all you are able to breathe out, as you stare the Unsub dead in the eyes. His face is screaming familiarity, but you're unable to place it, currently being frozen in fear.

“Well, well, well (Y/n) I’ve been waiting a long time for this” His grin of evil, makes you lunge into action. Pushing yourself on to your feet, shoving him away. Spriting to the door, you reach alot faster than you should due to hes shoving you against it, a cry slips through your lips, when your head collides against the hook. He chuckles deeply at you, pressing himself against you, his mouth against your ears. His hot breath making the hairs on your neck stand up, fear rushing through your body.

“Now I got you, now you're going to be all mine, not even your team is able to stop me, are they?” He snickers as the needle slides into your neck, watching as you don’t even attempt to struggle.

You knew the plan was for him to attack you, you wanted this to happen, you trust your team to stop him from leaving this place with you. That's the last thing you think as everything goes black.

~~~

“Hey Morgan, you did text them right?” Hotch asks again, pacing the room his arms crossed. It's been 5 minutes since Morgan sent that text and it shouldn’t take you that long to get here, your room is just down the hall from his. What the hell is taking you so long?

“Yeah Hotch I did, they should be here by now” Morgan sighs. Everyones tenses up looking at each other.

“I don’t like this” JJ adds getting off the couch, looking at the door then at Hotch. Not another word is spoken by the time Hotch is now through the door. Practically spriting to your room, his team close on his heels. He only slows down to pull out the spare key card, the rest of his team, arming themself readying themself for what they may find. Hotch gives a quick nod to Dave who's the closest to him, before unlocking the door and shoving it open. Everyone enters quickly, spreading throughout the room, their blood running cold when there's no sign of you. Reid slides into the bathroom, calling out ‘clear’ before rejoining his team in the main room, everyone placing their guns away. Everyone's face has a different emotion on it, fear, worry, concern, anger, and everyone is starting to be filled with regret as they make their way to your bed. Your room is in perfect condition, all expect the wardrobe door that is wide open and your bed. Your gun and badge are laid perfectly right in the middle, but between the gun and badge is a collection of photos, photos of you. These photos aren’t just recent, most are dating back to your time in college, a couple from high school and some recent ones from just a few weeks back, just before the murders began.

“This isn’t good” Morgan is the first to speak, his eyes shooting up to his unit chief waiting for his next order.

“Okay, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ I want you three outside now, see if anyone has seen anything suspieces, check the carmares ring Garcia, I want her checking security cameras, find something” Hotch barks his order, trying his hardest to keep his fear at bay, his team runs out of the room making their way downstairs instantly. Dave walks over to the bed, taking a photo of how things are laid out before sliding his gloves on and picking up the collection of photos.

“If.. we know that the unsub would have an end target, its (Y/n) Isn’t it?” Reid's voice is small, his eyes studying the photo in Rossi's hand.

“If they are, then this whole thing was a trap and they're in a lot more danger than they know” Rossi sighs, patting Spencer gently on the shoulder handing him the photos.

~~~

Groaning softly, your body feeling heavily as you slowly start to wake up forcing your eyes to open. You try to roll over onto your side so you can go back to sleep, you don’t want to get up yet. Ugh, the noise that woke you up in the first place is the back, a low beeping sound. Oh its your alarm you realised, you try to move your hand but it wont move far, its like something holding it back. Groaning as you force your eyes to finally open, taking a few seconds to get used to the darkness of the room you're in. Wait, why is it so dark, and so cold? Your eyes are focusing on the door in front of you, confusions filling you before you remember. The Unsub. Suddenly your body becomes full on alert, looking down at yourself, noticing you're tied to an old wooden chair, you trying to even move your finger but they don’t even twitch. You can’t feel them, you can’t feel anything, you can only move your eyes. Gulping thickly as you do your best to keep your heart from racing knowing that it's only the drugs in your system doing this to you, and once your team finds you, you will be fine. From what you can see in the room, it seems like an old wooden workshop. The shelves are full of tools and bottles of things you do not wish to know, knowing that these are his supplies and will most likely be used on you. Makes a shiver run down your spine, goose bumps spreading over your body. Fuck, this is not a situation you really want to be in, but your team will find you, they will come and everything will be fine. You force yourself to take deep calming breaths as you repeat those words in your head, holding back the images of the old victims from flashing in your mind, not needing to know what this man has planned for you.

~~~

You're not sure how long you're left alone for, sitting in the chair doing your best to keep your mind from spiralling. You hear a few creaks behind you, tensing up as you prepare to speak to the unsub, going through the profile in your mind. You hear a door open and close behind you before heavy footsteps start approaching.

“Oh so you are awake” His voice is upbeating, sounding upbeat and almost excited.

“You took your time coming in here” You glare up, waiting for him to come into your line of sight.

“Oh well (Y/n) I had to make sure that your team wouldn’t be able to find us so soon you see, I need to go back and cover my tracks” HIs chuckle is light, he grins coming to a stop in front of you, crouching down. You can feel the blood drain from your face as you see his face, his smile throwing you back into your past.

“H h hector..” Your stomach feels as if it's dropped past your feet, making you dizzy with the fall. His grin makes you pull at the restraints, trying to get as far back from him as possible.

“It's good to know you still remember me, especially seeing how long it's been, you have had such a successful career and yet you still remember your college music professor” He smirks, reaching out to stroke your hair, you jerk violently out of his way. You know that's the wrong move, of course it is. But there is no part of you that will ever allow him to touch you, not again. His smile drops, rage filling his once happy eyes, he stands up straight which makes you shiver in apprehensiveness. His hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head to the side with force making you wince, biting down on your lip.

“Don’t you dare move away from me you bitch!” He snarls, leaning down so he can speak directly into your ear. “If you even attempt to do that again, I’ll make sure that when your team does finds your body, that they won’t ever be the same again, especially that Penelope girl” He push you back away, a chuckle slipping through his lips, as he watches the fear drain on your face. He knows Garica, he knows your team. Fuck, this must have been a trap, this must be his pay back.

~~~

He leaves you alone for a while, you figure it's so he can regain his composure, wanting to have more self control when it comes to you. His end game. You keep pulling at the ropes binding you to the chair, just hoping you can get it loose enough to wiggle your wrist out of. Then maybe, just maybe you will have a chance of survival until your team can find you, if not then you have no chance back to sit still and play his game until your team gets here. Soon you hear the door open again, your motions come to a halt taking a deep breath ready to play his game.

“Well hello gorgeous” Hector sings songs. He walks over to you carrying his own chair and places it right in front of you, smirking at you before taking a seat.

“Hello” You reply coldly.

“Oh your highness, don’t be like that” He chuckles, his eyes fill of mischief.

“Look, I know you're eventually going to kill me, so what's the plan in the meantime, torture?” Scoffing as you roll your eyes, doing your best to put up a bored facade.

“Oh I figured, since the last time we had plans and you cancelled, that you owe me a song” Hector leans forward, raising his eyebrow, almost daring you to challenge him. You stare at him, you could follow his rules but then he could easily get bored of you, or you could play with him, give in after he has a bit of ‘fun’ acting as if it's all up to him.

“No” You glare back at him, which just earns a small smirk.

“No? Do you not remember what I did to my last victims, do you want me to do the same to you?”

“I know whatever games you want to play I'm still going to end up with my throat cut out” You huff out, glaring at him trying to give him every inch of your anger as you can. His smile grows as he stares at you until his laugh is bouncing through the room. A laugh that feels almost condescending like.

“Oh no, with you I have something a little more special planned, so why don’t you be a good little doll for me and sing me a damn song so you don’t have to find out so soon what it is, yeah?” His eyes narrow as he speaks, his voice darkening, clenching his fist as he does.

“I said no, what are you deaf?”

His hand wacks across your face hard, leaving a stinging feeling behind as his hand wraps around your throat, pulling you close to him. Forcing you to whimper as your restricts yank you backwards.

“Don’t be smart with me, one last chance my sweetness” His words make your mind beg you to agree with him but your profiler side knows if you want to get out of this alive, you need to go through with this.

“I said no, dumbass” Gulping tickly as his hand tightened, making it impossible to get any air in. Your mind runs empty as he pulls out a knife, placing it on your cheek grinning at you one last time before he starts to slice. You try to clench your eyes close as he moves the knife off your face, the pointed end staying on your skin, tracing down your neck moving down to your arm, where he starts slicing once more. Once the knife begins to slice, that's when you go inside your own mine, doing your best to dissociate from your body.

~~~

It's been 10 hours since the team has had contact with you. Everyone is running on no sleep, and are getting paranoid having no clue as to how long the unsub will want to keep you for. Currently Rossi, Prentiss and Reid have gone back to the bar to see if they can find any clues, see what they can find from talking to the staff who were working last night. While Hotch, JJ and Morgan stay behind at the precinct to work with Garcia on digging into your past, seeing if the unsub could be someone you know from back when you went to college.

“Okay so what am I looking for here?” Garcia asks, popping up on Hotch’s laptop, her face stained with tears, bags under her eyes.

“Okay Garcia, start looking for people who went to college at the same time (Y/L) did, narrow it down with anyone who attended their music class” Hotch instructs, looking down at his file of the previous victims.

“Okay, we have 25 names, small college helps with that I guess, now what?”

“Okay, do any of them have any charges of violence, or stalking charger?” Morgan asks, turning to look at Garcia, watching as she types away at her keyboard.

“Down to five names, okay give me more”

“Hey Garcia, is there like a Havery or a Henry um something like that on the list” JJ pipes up, eyes widening as she remembers something you mentioned years ago.

“Um no, but wait, hang on there is a Hector Jameson, why” Garcia looks up, her eyes full of hope.

“I remember years ago me and (Y/n) were talking about people with names we would never date and they mentioned this guy in their music class and, they didn’t want to talk about it but I could tell there was something about him that they wasn’t ready to talk about” JJ explain, pain and anger flashing on to her face, remembering just how uncomfortable you became after accidentally muttering his name.

“Oh jesus..” Garica whispers, staring at her computer as she types.

“Baby Girl, what is it?” Morgan calls for her.

“He’s the music professor at the college” Her eyes land on Morgan, worry and fear running through them. Hotch and JJ tenses up before glancing briefly at Morgan, seeing his fist clenched tightly, anger pumping through his veins.

“Send us an address Garcia”

“I will, but he also has a few cabins under his name, but no address for those” She sighs softly, sending them his addressee.

“It's okay, we’ll figure it out, thanks Garcia see what else you can find out about him” Hotch tells her before hanging up.

~~~

Blood drips down your arms, forced whimpers and cries slip out of you.

“Please stop please stop, I’ll sing for you” You whimper, finally deciding to give in.

“Oh, what a good doll you are” He grins happily. Sitting back down, playing with the knife in his hand.

“W what would you like?” Your voice is shaky, glancing up at him with fear.

“Why don’t you sing our song?” His smirk digs into your soul. Tears swell in your eyes as the song starts playing in your mind.

“D do you have a guitar that I can play as well.. That way I can make it perfect” Your lip twitches trying hard to not cry, as he glares at you.

“You just want your hands to be freed, no” He scoffs, coming to a stop playing with the knife, ready to use it again.

“No no I don't.. It's okay I’ll just sing” Gulping thickly as you take a deep breath doing your best to keep the shakiness out of your voice.

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish,

I'll be your fantasy

I'll be your hope, I'll be your love,

be everything that you need

I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do.

You manage to sing the song perfectly until the last paragraph where you slip up, your fear making it impossible to keep singing with a stable voice. This only angered him like you thought it would.

“You fucking bitch” He sneers at you, dropping his knife as he gets up, grabbing your hair.

“Im sorry Im sorry, please just let me try again” You beg him, fighting against your instincts to pull away from his touch.

“No, you know if you just took my offer when you were younger then I could of helped you, you could of been famous by now, instead your some useless FBI agent and that's all you're going to be known for” He smirks, getting to his feet, moving his hand from your hair to cup your face. “All you're going to be known for is someone who never went for opportunities and that's why you're going to die, I mean not right now but soon” His evil smile makes you lunge towards him, trying to headbutt him, no longer caring about the consequences of your action. Oh how stupid that was. All he does is smile more at you, before stepping away, walking to his wall of tools picking up an empty water bottle and filling it up with something you can’t see. He walks back over to you grabbing your jaw with such strength you didn’t know he had.

“I bet your thirsty baby, open up for me” Your eyes widen as things start making sense, you clench your jaw tighter, knowing once you do, that everything is over.

“Stubborn bitch aren’t you” He grabs his knife that lays forgotten on the knife shovinging it deeply in your shoulder, causing you to cry out in pain, your mouth opening wide enough for him to squirt some liquid into your mouth. It slides down your throat, leaving the worst burning feeling you have ever felt behind, as if someone has sent fire to your throat. You scream out in pain as it counts to burn, his laugh is the last thing you hear before blackness takes over.

~~~

“Okay so we talked to a few of (Y/n) old classmates who were also in Hector class and we think we found something” Rossi announces as he and Emily walk into the room where the rest of the team is currently, all spread around the table throwing ideas off each other.

“Yeah, it turns out he liked to take a few of his students out camping, apparently the fresh air was known to help encourage the creative flow, (Y/n) apparently went on a few of his camping trips with fellow classmates but everyone we talked to told us that (Y/l) was definitely his favourite student, spent every waking second talking and helping them” Emily huffs taking a seat. “Some students think they used to have a thing together, they were of age so maybe they did” Emily supplies, looking at the papers spread across the table.

“Not voluntarily I bet, they were groomed!” Morgan snaps, slamming his hand down as he gets up in huff, feeling frustrated and scared for you.

“Morgan, we know that could be possible, but we need to stay calm” Hotch starts, looking up at him, worrying. Everyone knew these types of cases already hit him hard, but when it comes to a member of a team, feelings get out of hand.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Morgan snaps, before storming out of the room, quickly followed by a concerned Reid.

“Okay, I know we are worried about (Y/n) but we are no close to finding where his cabins are so, I want everyone to go back to the hotel get some sleep, It's been over 24 hours since anyone has slept and I can’t have us continuing like this” Hotch decided looking up to see three faces staring back at his in disbelief.

“No, no I'm not sleeping until I know they're safe, until we find them Hotch, no way” JJ argues, crosses her arms.

“They wouldn’t sleep if It was us out there missing, no way I’m resting” Emily agrees with JJ, glaring back at Hotch.

“Guys, we are no help to (Y/n) if we wear ourselves down” Hotch tries to reason, knowing it's useless.

“Hotch is right” Dave stands up for him, having seen how hard the team has been working for the last 30 hours. “It's coming close to 42 hours without sleep, this isn’t good, and when we do find them we need to be rested up enough to take him down” Daves words hang in the air for a few seconds as the girls mull them over.

‘Fine” Emily slowly agrees, nodding.

“Okay, but the second we have any information we got to go” JJ sighs getting up.

“We’ll take shifts, you three go first, after two hours we swap” Hotch smiles sadly, knowing it's what they did last time this happened.

~~~

It's now been 20 hours that you have been missing, and the team has gotten some sleep. Even including Garcia who fell asleep on the couch in Morgan's office. Now with some fresher eyes they are relooking as to where his cabins could be, looking at where the classes used to go camping. With some connection Garcia now has access to a satellite. Looking through the area they think his cabin could be in to see if they could find something.

“Guys, do you see this?” Penelope's voice is quiet, but slowly filling with hope.

“Two heat signatures” Morgan responds, getting to his feet.

“That cabin looks to be around 5 miles from where they did the camping trip” Reid replies, everyone jumping to their feet, Instructing Garica to send the coordinates to their phones as they run out the door. They take two separate vehicles, Rossi, JJ and Morgan in one, Hotch, Emily and Reid in the other, with SWAT and medics on the way.

“Okay, Babygirl speaks to us, where exactly are they in the cabin?” Morgan asks, a phone call connecting them all, when they start getting closer.

“Okay, so it appears they are out in the backroom, one of them seems to be moving outside, wait wait” Garcia voice grows panic as stares at the screen. Everyone looks at each other, the tension growing.

“Garcia, what's going on?” Hotch demands. His grip tightening on the wheel, terrified of the idea of losing you.

“He’s getting in his car, looks to be moving towards you but um” Penelope's voice fills with sadness, doing her best to keep the tears at bay she takes a deep breath. “(Y/n) heat signatures, its weakening” The shaky words make Morgan and Hotch speed up.

“Alright, just keep an eye on them, kitten” Rossi sighs softly looking out at the road, knowing they can’t be too far away now.

“Hotch, I think that's him” Morgan eyes widen seeing the unsub car approaching them on the other side, driving fast and impatiently.

“Alright, Morgan you get (Y/n) we got him” Hotch demands, doing a u-turn as the unsub passes him, turning his sirens on.

Everyone feels on edge as they split up, there is only one reason why he would have left you. Now they don’t know if they’re too late to save you. Time seems to run slow as they race towards the cabin, hope fading away.

~~~

Your throat feels like it's raw, the feeling in your body is back, making everything ache. You feel exhausted trying your hardest to stay awake, knowing your team has to be close by now, right?

“Well, you’re finally awake bitch?” he snarls, wrapping his hand through your hair, yanking your head backwards making your eyes shoot open.

“Go fuck yourself” You retort weakly at him. When you speak it makes your throat feel like you swallowed a bunch of seawater and choked. The burned feeling makes your eyes water, just begging for all of this to end, quickly.

“That's not polite” he chuckles, his hand travelling down your neck. Shivering under his touch, wishing you would never have to feel his hands on you again, hopeful today will end it all. You're not going to let him win, not again. You decide when taking a deep breath, spitting up into his face.

“Your fucking dead for that” His voice is oddly calm, and thats the only thing your able to concentrate on as you feel his fist contacting with your face over and over again. Your sure small whimpers are leaving you as the chair falls to the side, your head smashing into the ground. His feet join in on the beat, but you know it doesn’t matter anymore because your childhood dog is standing him, waiting for you. You smile softly at them, knowing it's finally over. Your dog is the last thing you see as the world goes black.

~~~

Mogan, Rossi and JJ get out of the car, making their way to the cabin. They enter quickly, checking the whole cabin before they find you in the backroom tied to a chair that lays on the ground. Their hearts drop as they see the state you are in, your head split open, blood pooling. There's dried blood and bruises covering your arms, your face looks swollen, your lips puffy and some chemical burns around your mouth.

JJ is the first to reach you, falling to her knees in front of you, her mind begging you to still be alive. Her finger slid on to your neck, looking for a pulse.

“I got a pulse” JJ lets out a sigh of relief. “It's faint, but it's there” She smiles weakly up at the guys. Spotting Morgan speaking into his comms as Rossi bends down, pulling out his knife, cutting you free from the restrance.

“Their strong” Rossi smiles at JJ softly, as they both help pull you into a sitting position. Morgan grabs a rag he's found on the workshelf, handing it to JJ, who presses it on your head wound. Earning a low groan from you, your eyes trying to open, all you can do is get a glimpse of someone in front of you. Your mind starts rushing, no no you can’t deal with him again you can’t handle more pain.

“N n no” Your words are barely audible, you try pulling away from JJ touch.

“Hey, hey it's okay it's us” JJ speaks softly, trying to grab you again, a cry escapes you, which causes you more pain. You are trying harder to get away, not understanding who's talking to you.

“Hey, (Y/n) stop stop, it's okay it's us kid” Daves voice cuts through the room loudly, grabbing your face with both his hands, holding you still. His touch is gentle but firm, his thumb sliding over your cheek.

“Kiddo, it's us, you're safe now” His words soften, the room goes quiet, except for the sirens that are approaching. You look up at him, your body shaking violently.

“D dave” You cough his name out, leaning back into the soft warm wall behind you. A wall that has arms apparently, because it's back to putting pressure on your head.

“Don’t speak (Y/n) we got you now” He takes his hand of you causing you to whine, lifting up your hand, trying to reach for him. He smiles sadly, taking your hand in his, holding it tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here” He kisses your hand softly. He stays true to his words, never leaving your side all the way to the hospital he holds your hand the whole way there, even after you black out again.

~~~

Oh gosh, the light is so bright it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the brightness in the room. When it does that's when everything else starts connecting in your mind. Your body feels more comfortable than it did before, you're no longer on that chair, tied up in a dark room. Smiling softly as you look around, recognizing the look of a hospital room. Looking down at your arms you see your arms all bandaged up, noticing your hooked up to a few different I.V lines. Your body relaxes a little knowing you're safe now, but you can’t help but feel lonely, looking around the room wishing your team was here. I mean that's why you're here right?

“You're awake” His voice is light and hopeful. His smile takes over half his face as he walks in. Your eyes shoot over to the doorway, smiling weakly as you see your boss walk in.

“Aaron” Your voice is scratchy. The burning feeling from early returns as you try to speak.

“You don’t need to speak, the doctor said it could take a week for your throat to heal properly, so for now you need to take it easy” He explains softly, coming to sit beside you, earning a disappointed nod from you.

“The team wanted to wait for you to wake up but I sent them all back to the hotel last night, Dave stayed with you until morning, I sent him back an hour ago” He explains to you, watching you closely.

“W what happened?” You wince lightly, pointing to your throat. Slowly pulling yourself up to a sitting position.

“He poured sulfuric acid down your throat, it was diluted so it didn’t cause major damage” Hotch explains gently, staring at you sympathetically. You have to move your head away from him, unable to deal with that look anymore.

“Thank you” You whisper, you're not even sure if he can hear you.

“You don’t need to thank us, look please you can’t talk anymore but once you do, I need to know what happened okay?” The softness to his voice cuts deeply into your chest, you always saw Aaron as a father figure, him and Dave. Ever since you joined the team they took you under their wing, making sure you understood what you were getting yourself into, looking after you after hard cases. Normally you can control your emotions, but the way he was looking at you, the way he was speaking is enough for you to break. You suddenly burst into tears, your body being rocking forward as you sob quietly, unable to make noise. Hotch is up in an instant, sitting on the edge of your bed pulling you into his arms. His arms wrap around you securely, one rubbing your back softly.

“It's okay, I’ve got you (Y/n/n)” He whispers words of sweetness as he lets you cry in his arms, holding you for as long as you need.

~~~

The morning is filled with doctors checking on you, taking you for scans or tests. You hate being away from your team, hate being alone in rooms, your eyes beg Aaron to go with you, but they don’t allow him into the small rooms. Your anxiety is spiking all morning, soon they allow you to go back to your room, where Hotch is waiting for you, texting on his phone when your bed is wheeled in.

“So, how are you doing?” Hotch asks when you two are alone again.

“A couple broken ribs, my throat hurts, but I’m fine, and I can go home tomorrow” You smile weakly at him, leaning back in the bed, feeling exhausted.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, the team was thinking of coming to see you but I can tell them no” He stares at you, not wanting to push you, he knows you need to rest. But the smile that breaks over your face at the mention of the team, makes him know that resting will have to wait.

“No I wanna see them” You grin at him, knowing that right now you can get almost anything you want.

“Alright, I’ll let them know” He smiles, sending a text.

“Did you get him?” Your voice is so quiet, your eyes as wide as a tennis ball while you stare at the wall opposite you. He looks up at you, wondering how long you have been wanting to ask him that, fearing for the answer he could give you.

“He left you in the cabin, he drove past us when we were on our way to you, we silt up, Me Emily and Reid tracked him down, the situation escalated after we got to him and he got shot, he didn’t make it” Aaron tells you, his voice staying at a neutral tone, not sure how you’re going to take it.

“Good” Is all that you say, your expression staying empty. Rolling onto your side away from him as you wait for the team to turn up, accidentally falling asleep.

~~~

“Well look who's awake” Derek's voice makes you look up. You and Hotch are playing cards, after waking from your nap he informed you that the team was going to come over just tonight, giving you afternoon to sleep. Which you do, and now after growing bored you’re playing cards with Aaron, waiting for the arrival of your team.

Your head shoots up at Morgan's voice, grinning at him and the others who all trail in, looking at you surprised to see how much better you already look.

“What, I like to sleep” You tease him back, your voice still raw and scratchy.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asks, making her way over. She's the first to give you a hug, cupping your face looking you over.

“JJ, Im fine now, It will all heal” You smile gently, trying to reassure her before moving from her grip.

“Fine, are you in pain?” She requires the memories of finding you half dead on the floor forever carved in her mind.

“I’m on so many meds right now, I can’t feel anything” You smile weakly, your throat starting to burn again.

“Relax mama bear, they're fine” Derek pats JJ on the shoulder, leaving his hand there. Pulling her away from you, giving you space

“You know you shouldn’t speak too much (Y/n) it's only going to irritate your throat” Spencer informs you, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes full of worry.

“Noted” Smirking softly as you lay your head back, looking around at your team. If it wasn’t for them you wouldn't be lying here right now. “Thank you, all of you I–” Your words trail off, not knowing how to phrase how gracefully you are for them.

“You never have to thank us” Emily smiles softly down at you, standing close to you her hand runs through your hair gently. A normal shower of affection that she regularly does with you and Reid, only this time you flinch. Everyone notices it, but they don’t bring it up. They already knew you were going to have some trauma to work through. Emily removes her hand slowly, her eyes flicking over to Morgan feeling guilty.

~~~

The team sticks around for an hour, they talk and laugh with you for a while, even though you don’t respond offended, trying your best to look after your throat. The team only leaves after the doctor asks to check over your wounds in private. Informing them that you will be able to get discharged in the morning. Once the doctor leaves you alone, fear and anxiety start spreading throughout you again. You know it's impossible for him to come back and hurt you, but that doesn't mean your mind is ready to accept that. You turn the tv on, watching some drama tv show, your mind unable to pay attention to it, but the background sound is nice.

“Oooh what are we watching?” Dave's cherry voice breaks you out of your mind, your eyes flick over to the doorway watching him walk in holding a couple bags. Setting them down before he takes a seat beside you, pretending to watch the tv and not notice the small smile playing on your lips at the sight of his present.

“some type of drama tv show” You shrug, looking back at the T.V.

“Wait, hang on, have you never seen this before?” Dave gasps, staring at you. You nod in response confused to his reaction.

“You have never seen the office before, well that is differently changing, Office marathon at my mansion one night” His grin makes you laugh weakly, his eyes narrow at you, giving you a stern look.

“No nosies, you need to rest your throat, also I got you something for that” He leans forward grabbing one of the bags. You frown at him, wondering what he may have, a grin breaking out as you see him pull out your favourite ice cream tub. He passes it to you with a spoon, a small smile on his lips as he does.

“Thanks” You whisper lightly, smirking at him, having to hold back a laugh when he rolls his eyes at you.

~~~

You two sat in silence for over an hour, eating the ice cream and enjoying the T.v show. It's getting late, and you're forcing your eyes to stay open not wanting to sleep just yet. Dave had noticed that you have been fighting sleep for the past ten minutes, jumping every time your eyes close.

“(Y/n), you need to try and get some sleep” Dave sighs softly, not missing the way your eyes are watering.

“I can’t” Your voice shakes, doing your best to try and stop it.

“I can go and get a nurse to see if they can give you something?” Dave watches the way your body tenses up at the suggestion, just knowing that tonight is going to be a long one.

“No, no more drugs”

“Okay, then what can I do?” Rossi almost begs you to let him help you, just wanting you to get some rest.

“I…” You know what could help but you can’t ask him, he is practically your second boss. Just because you see him like a father figure doesn’t mean he does.

“Nothing” Is all you say instead.

“(Y/n), please what do you need?” He takes your hand that's shaking lightly.

“H hug?” Gulping thickly as you glance over at him, seeing the worry melt off his face.

“Now that, I can do” He smiles softly, getting up. “Move over” He sits down beside you waiting for you to scooch over. You smile weakly scooching over enough for him to lay down, wrapping his arm around you pulling you into him.

“Thank you” You snuggle into him, closing your eyes.

“Anytime kiddo, get some rest” His whisper is full of love, his arm wrapped around you securely as you allow yourself to close your eyes and fall into the darkness.

~~~

The flight home is long and quiet. You were given the couch to rest on it, which you happily took. Snuggling down in your blanket, staring at the ceiling the whole time, feeling lost inside your own mind. The only time you really move is when it's time to take more meds or you need to hydrate. The team sat at the back of the jet, trying to give you privacy, but also so they could share their worries about you without being overheard. Hotch and Rossi had already spoken about you, knowing the next stage of this is going to be hard for you. Especially when it comes to needing to know who Hector was to you, having to ask what he exactly did to you.

The flight is now half way over, when you finally fall asleep. The team smiles over at you, happy you're finally resting. Sadly it doesn't last longer, when you're suddenly interrupting everyone with a scream. Rossi and Hotch are up in seconds, both rushing to your side leaving the team to watch in worry. You're thrashing around on the couch, tears and whimpers escaping you. Fear covering your face, your heart racing with panic.

“(Y/n), wake up your safe” Rossi kneels in front of you, hands cupping your face. Trying to get you to stop moving before you injure yourself. Hotch moves to grab your arms, scared you're going to rip some of your stitches open, holding them firmly as he hopes Rossi can wake you up.

“(Y/n), open your eyes for me kiddo” Rossi shakes your face lightly, your eyes soon flutter open your lips twitching as you try to calm down.

“Your okay Ragazzion, you're okay” Rossi lets go of your face, same time Hotch lets you go.

“I.. sorry” You utter out, trying hard to control the tears. Pulling yourself into a sitting position in the middle of the couch.

“It's okay, how are you doing?” Hotch asks, his voice laced with concern as he and Rossi both take a seat on either side of you.

“I don’t know” You look at him feeling hopeless, the tears starting to dry on your face.

“That's okay, do you need anything?” Hotch smiles softly at you, placing his hand gently on your knee, you jump slightly before nodding.

“Water, please?” You lean into Rossi when his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in close.

“You got it,” Aaron smiles before getting up to get some water.

You can’t help but lean into Rossi's touch, now that with him, you're always going to be safe. Your head rests on his shoulder, not caring that the rest of the team is watching you, concerned running through them. You're not a hugger, you barely like touching, some say you're even worse than Reid. But here you are, snuggled up to Rossi refusing to let him go even when Hotch brings over the water. Rossi has to pull you away from him so you would drink, nodding as you follow their instruction. The team stares at you worried about how badly the unsub has messed you up, when you're asking Hotch to join you on the couch, and suddenly you're snuggled up between the two bosses of the BAU. The remaining three hours of the flight, you refuse to move from either of them constantly needing physical contact from them.

~~~

The elevator ride up to your office floor is peaceful. You stand in the back, still holding on to Rossi's hand, refusing to even let go after leaving the jet. Rossi doesn’t mind it, he's always happy to hold you close. He's always seen you as one of his kids ever since you joined the team 2 years ago. You were one of the youngest agents he had met, you were barely 23 when you joined. When the elevator doors open, the team slowly make their way out, you're the last to walk out with Rossi. Garica stands by the glass doors, smiling with relief as she sees you. You can’t help yourself, you pull away from Rossi, and make your way quickly towards the woman who constantly produces happiness. Flinging your arms around her, she's quick to respond, hugging you back tightly, no words exchanged. The team all walks past you giving you space.

“Thank you” You smile weakly as you pull away from her, both of you having tears sliding down your face.

“Never have to thank me, never have to thank any of us” She smiles softly, looping her arm with you, leading you into the bullpen. “We never want to lose you, do you understand, you are a part of our family, we will always be there when you need us” She smiles at you, watching as the wheels turn in your eyes.

“I know, I just.. I was scared, there's things you don’t know” You words seem to fail you but she gives you a reassuring look.

“That's okay, all in your own time” Garcia walks you to your desk, helping you pack up some folders, everyone knows you're taking a few weeks off due to doctor's orders.

“I’ll give you a ride home, by the way (Y/n)” Morgan walks over to you two, grabbing your bag.

“Morgan I can drive myself”

“No you can’t” Was the response of Penelope and Reid

“Oh hell no!” Came JJ and Emily's answer, all looking at you with overprotective looks.

“Guys I’m fine” You sigh, knowing it's useless.

“No you're not, but Morgan it's okay I’ll take them home” Hotch speaks up as he and Rossi make their way down the stairs and over to you.

“I don’t get a choice do I?”

“No”

“Nope”

~~~

Hotch helps you in his car, against your protest. Once you two are finally on the way out of Quantico, that's when you know the question will begin.

“So me and Dave were talking” He starts, his eyes staying focused on the road. “We don’t like the idea of you staying alone”

“Hotch, I’ll be fine” You know that's a lie, truthly you're dreading going home alone.

“(Y/n) please, we all know you're not okay, I don’t want you to be alone, because If you are it's going to drive me crazy” He sighs, glancing over at you, watching as your face falls.

“I don’t want anyone to worry about me” You stare out the window, trying to empty your mind.

“I know, but we will anyway, because we care about you, I know I shouldn’t but I see you like my kid (Y/n), please just let us help you” His voice is so close to begging you to agree with him.

“You have Jack, I can’t stay with you” Your hands start to fidget, hate to be a burden.

“He’s not home tonight he's with Jess, so stay with me tonight and that gives Rossi time to set up a spare room for you, you can stay with him or me as long as you need” Hotch looks at you, seeing as you think over his question.

“Okay” You finally agree, the idea of being alone eating away at you. “But only for a little while”

“Thank you” Aaron smiles, driving to his place.

Three weeks later.

You still suffer with nightmares, still unfit to return back to work for now. For the last two weeks you have been staying at Rossi places, which has been nice, even when he's been away on cases. The fact his place has a lot of cameras and security makes you feel safe. You’ve been going to therapy two times a week, doing everything you can so you can start feeling like yourself again. It was last week when you went into the office and finally told Hotch and Rossi the truth of who Hector was to you, doing your best to not break down as you did so. Hotch and Rossi have become your main support in the past few weeks, making sure you had everything you needed to feel okay. Hotch would come visit you most days he was in town, bring Jack over to have dinner with you and Dave. Their actions constantly reminding you how important you are to them, how no matter what, they will always be there for you.

One night, you're sitting in Rossi's living room not expecting him to come home. You're playing the guitar you had picked up from home, strumming it slowly. You've had it in your room for the last week but every time you picked it up the memories would come rushing back, but not today. Today when you picked it up sitting on the couch, it just felt normal. You take a deep breath closing your eyes as you slowly start singing, enjoying the way it feels to relax and play again. This is something you used to do everyday and now, it's been three weeks. You promised yourself that no one would take your passion away from you, so there's no way you're going to let him take that from you, no one gets to do that. Soon the song comes to an end, smiling softly as the music comes to a stop opening your eyes slowly.

“Now that was beautiful”

You don't mean to jump, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be home until later tonight. Turning around, you see Rossi walk in from behind, smiling softly.

“I didn’t know you were listening” Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassed.

“I know, I didn’t want to interrupt, but you have such a talent” Dave comments, walking over taking a seat beside you.

“Thank you” Smilingly softly looking down, falling silent.

“A penny for your thoughts” Dave asks, frowning slightly at you.

“I miss performing” Sighing softly, placing the guitar on your lap.

“Why did you stop?”

“It didn’t fit in with my schedule anymore”

“Well, If I’m right you do have some time now, and I know we aren’t in town most weekends, but you can still try every now and again” Dave suggest, smiling lightly. Knowing that he and the team would love to hear you perform again.

“I could but I.. it feels weird after what happened last time, I feel like I shouldn’t do that again” You admit your fear, feeling shamefully about it.

“That's understandable, but that won’t happen again, and me and the team will be right there for you” Dave looks at you encouragingly.

“I know” You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted from overthinking.

“Is something else going on in there?” Rossi wraps his arms around you.

“Maybe” Sighing softly, closing your eyes. “I think it's time I go home”

“You don’t have to kiddo, you can stay here as long as you need, you know that” Rossi reminds you.

“I know, but I’m not going to be able to move on with my life If I stay here” You explain, feeling sad at the idea of leaving.

“Well, why don’t I help you set up a camera at your place and we can put in a better security system as well” Rossi offers, wanting you to be safe if you're leaving.

“I like that idea, thank you” You smile weakly.

“Perfect, we can do it this weekend, If I don’t get called away” Rossi kisses your forehead softly.

~~~

It's Friday night, and Rossi has invited the team out for drinks. When they all arrive they aren’t expecting you to be waiting at the table for them already, they have barely seen you in the past few weeks.

“(Y/n)” Garcia squeals out, unlooping her arm with Morgan as she runs over to you, encasing you in a giant hug that you happily return.

“Hey you” Smiling brightly, feeling her happiness bounce off her. Letting her go as you hug the rest of the team, (Excluding Hotch and Rossi who you see regular)

“I thought I would surprise you all” Smiling softly as you all sit down, letting Hotch and Rossi get everyone's drinks.

“Please tell me you're coming back soon, I've missed you” JJ sighs, smiling at you hopeful.

“What JJ, we aren’t good enough for you” Morgan teases her.

“Please tell me it's soon, because I can’t deal with Morgan without you much longer” JJ groans, as the rest of the team laughs at Morgan's offended face.

“Well It should be Monday if Hotch approves” You smile at them, forgetting how much you missed your little family.

“Oh he better approve” Emily smiles, noticing how much better you seem to be now.

“He does,” Aaron smiles, approaching the group from behind, carrying some drinks, hanging them out.

“Thank you” You grin at him as the group cheers, Garcia wrapping her arm around your shoulders excitedly.

~~~

The rest of the night is full of laughter and catching up with everyone. There's a stage at the bar and people are going up, singing and playing music. The team watches a few acts but soon it fades into background noise as they all catch up. That is until you disappear to the bathroom, and when you return back you see the stage empty, the guitar sat there just begging for someone to play it. The opportunity staring you in the face, you glance over at your family smiling softly knowing they will always be your biggest support, so you head on up.

“Hey guys, hope you don’t mind me giving this ago” You smile speaking into the microphone, picking up the guitar. Some people turn to look at you smiling, your whole team turns to face the stage, surprised to hear your voice echoing through the bar. Smiles and grins break out as they realise what you're doing, a few cheers come from Morgan and Garcia, earning a soft laugh from you as you strumming the guitar softly. The bar grows quite as the guitar fills the place, taking a deep breath as you start to sing.

Don't listen to the voice inside your head

You're doing just fine

You're trying your best

If no one ever told you it's all gonna be okay

We're just people never sleeping over stupid shit

We won't remember in the morning

Yeah, we're gonna forget

And no one ever told you it's all gonna be okay

You sing softly, enjoying the way it feels falling into the vibes. Staring out at the crowds seeing them looking up at you, but your eyes only stay on your team. Seeing their smiles full of love and proud as they all watch you. You can’t help but sway as you play the guitar, finally feeling like yourself, and it's all thanks to your team. You know no matter what happens they will always have your back, and nothing will ever pull you away from them.

~~~

#criminal minds #criminal minds one shot #aaron hotchner x gn reader #david rossi x gn reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #bau team x gn reader #bau team x gender netural reader

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tears0fsatan · 2 years

Note

Congrats on 350 followers!! Can I rq for a smut one shot of bratty leona x soft dom male reader? with the prompts of “you didn’t think i’d just let you get away with all this teasing, right? “you’re lucky that you’re cute.”

𖥻 characters... leona kingscholar x m!reader

𖥻 genre... nsfw oneshot

𖥻 warnings... nsfw!! minors, ageless blogs and fem aligned will be blocked, amab third year savanaclaw!reader, soft dom!reader, bratty!leona, established relationship, reader is kinda thirsty BAHAHA, just ... pure teasing, dirty talking, very light primal play LMFAO [never in my life did i think it'd come to this], pet names such as 'your highness', 'my grace', 'my prince', hair pulling, praising, degradation, not public but mentions others can hear them, oral [giving, it's not long], handjob [I FINALLY REMEMBERED THAT THIS A WORD THAT EXISTS], scratching, edging lol

𖥻 a.n... LETS GO SOFT DOM MY SPECIALTY!!!! idc what anyone says!!!! soft dom is top tier!!!!! n thank u for participating in the event hon! this req is :chefs kiss: i luv domming those who would usually be dom HAH ALSO FOR THE SAKE OF THIS ONESHOT LETS SAY UR A THIRD YEAR N NOT A FIRST YEAR OKAY 😭

🌐 % 3V3NT H3R3 @ __★

in the midst of your fourth period, you could feel something fluffy lightly graze your leg. you paid it no mind, you already knew who the culprit was. you turned your head to stare at the student in the neighbouring seat. the second prince of sunset savanna, leona kingscholar, your boyfriend, wasn’t looking at you, rather his gaze was focused on trein who was droning on about something you could hardly recall. though, by the way the end of his lip quirked up into his usual lazy smirk, you knew that his actions were purposeful.

the tail sat unmoving wrapped around your calf, bushy end flicking every now and then, so you turned your attention back to the professor. all was fine... for a total of five minutes.

you felt his tail slowly creep up your leg, finding home resting on your thigh. you sent leona a warning glare, bouncing your leg in an attempt to throw off the tail to no avail. you could hear a faint chuckle from him, which he quickly covered up with a cough. you saw the way lucius perked his head up and looked over at the two of you, and your gaze immediately snapped down to your notebook.

you brought your right hand down to your thigh, inconspicuously attempting to push his tail off of you. it didn't help, if anything, the action made it worse as the third year wrapped around your meaty flesh instead. you exhaled through your nose, rolling your eyes in defeat, and continued to listen to the boring lecture.

well... as long as he wasn't doing anything too distracting you suppose it wouldn't hurt to let him do so as he pleased, you thought to yourself as you took down notes.

some time had passed since he made a move, and you had believed that would've been the end to his teasing. oh, how naive.

there were only ten minutes left until the bell would ring when you felt the weight wrapped around your thigh shift. your eyes snapped to leona's side profile in panicked confusion. you noticed the smirk from earlier had grown wider, the ears that sat atop of his head flicked when your gaze shifted to them.

his tail grazed your inner thigh, slowly climbing up closer to your crotch. you bit your bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the sounds of confusion from slipping past your lips. with the way his actions grew bolder, you could tell how prideful the prince was feeling.

luckily for you, the bell rang before things could progress further. you immediately stood up, the tail that had made home on your lap slid off your thigh. without uttering a word, you quietly packed your things and got ready to leave. you turned to your boyfriend who was conveniently already looking at you, an amused glint evident in his eyes.

"you're lucky you're cute." you huffed out before hurriedly shuffling away, leaving before he got the chance to respond, though you could hear his laugh from behind you.

you were able to avoid him for the last two lessons, using the time to think of ways to get back at your boyfriend. you had a few ideas in mind as to how to keep the sly lion in place.

you thanked your lucky stars upon remembering that leona had spelldrive practice today, giving you more time to organise your thoughts and prepare. your pace quickened when you remembered that leona's room had the perfect view of the stadium, elated at the thought of conjuring up a suitable punishment for your little lion.

you cheerfully greeted your fellow dorm mates while making your way to leona's room. stopping by for a few seconds to engage in mindless small talk to maintain your appearance before taking the first chance you got to run off to your boyfriend's room.

you carelessly threw your things on his floor, uncaring to where they ended up, and plopped yourself face first onto his lavish bed. you sighed in contempt, exhausted after a long day of school and your boyfriend's constant teasing on top of it.

you laid in silence for a few minutes, soaking up the comfiness that his bed offered. you were nearly lulled to sleep until you heard groans coming from the direction of the field and were reminded of why you were in the dorm leader's room in the first place.

despite feeling like you were being weighed down, you forced yourself to get up and trudge towards the large windows across the room. you leaned against the pillar, your eyes zeroing on leona who was laying down on one of the lower benches, ruggie beside him to offer some shade against the the blazing heat.

you shook your head, sigh morphing into a chuckle at the predictiveness of the captain. he always skipped warmup, only there to participate in the practice games.

only after the other members of the team finished running laps around the stadium did he get up, tying his hair up in a low ponytail that always managed to leave you awestruck at his beauty. even from afar you could see the sweat that glistened on his skin, the hot temperatures of sunset savanna living up to its reputation.

three rounds later and everyone on the court had decided to rid themselves of their shirts, leona included. you found yourself perking up with a newfound energy after seeing your shirtless boyfriend, moving from where you had made yourself comfortable resting against the stone pillar to lean on the wooden railings of the balcony. you wolf whistled to under your breath, feasting your eyes to the sight of his taut muscles.

practice didn't end until the sun had set, yet despite being out in the blistering heat for hours, they still seemed energetic. save for one lion prince, of course. he was the first one to leave the stadium, sauntering down the stairs without even a single glance behind him.

with uncouth movements, you clumsily got yourself off the ground, dusting off the dirt that clung onto your shorts. you headed inside his room, having the courtesy as to close the shutters and turn on the lights.

belatedly realising you were still in your school uniform, you shuffled towards one of the random shirts leona had laying around and brought it close to your face. if it didn't omit a scent pungent enough to take out half the dorm, then it was good enough to wear.

dressed in only his baggy shirt and your boxers, you sat idly on the edge of his bed, waiting for your lion prince to walk through the door.

leona barely flinched when his eyes landed on the intruder making himself home on his bed, "hah?" he loudly sneered from the doorway, shutting the door behind him and crossing his arms over his chest.

he stood intimidatingly in front of his door, drenched shirt thrown over his shoulder, a sheen layer of sweat blanketing his skin. "why are you wearing my shirt?" he grunted out, eyebrows raised as he eyed you up and down.

you smiled at him, though you couldn't tear your eyes away from his muscular arms to his firm pecs and the droplet of sweat that rolled down in between his tits. the lion cleared his throat and your eyes immediately snapped to his.

you unabashedly grinned up at him despite the way his lips curled up to bare his sharp teeth at you, "welcome back! you worked hard... evidently." you whispered the end of your sentence in a playful manner, well aware he could hear. you quietly muttered a 'thanks for the meal' under your breath which he chose to ignore, throwing his shirt into a basket behind him and using the nearest towel laying around to wipe off the sweat.

the prince did his best to avoid you, looking everywhere but you. he walked around the room, picking up shirts that were strewn everywhere to give them a sniff, tossing the ones that were long overdue for a wash into the basket that sat in his corner. he soon found a black tank top that he deemed was clean enough to wear.

you began to feel lonely from the lack of attention and decided that just wouldn't do.

with his back turned towards you, you wrapped your arms around his abdomen, yet the lion prince unresponsive, though his tail almost instinctively, wrapped itself around your waist. you huffed, nuzzling your face into the muscle of his back. your breath fanned over the expanse of skin, goosebumps rising at your warm breath compared to the cool night air.

he didn't say anything, but you could feel his quickening heartbeat and hear the pants that grew harsher when you kissed the base of his neck. your hands glided over his abs, feeling up the smooth and firm muscles. his muscles tensed under your wandering fingers, goosebumps arising underneath your teasing touch.

"what are you doing?" he grumbled through gritted teeth, probably in an attempt to sound menacing but with one peek over his shoulder, you could see his growing erection.

you hummed, "i don't know, what does it look like i'm doing?" your nails lightly scratched his skin, not deep enough to leave welts but enough to send a shiver down his spine. you grinned against his back, trailing kisses from the divet of his shoulder blades to the juncture where his neck with his collarbones. while doing so, one of your hands drifted lower, ghosting over his hard length.

a sharp inhale came from leona when you palmed him through his shorts, his knees nearly buckling underneath him. you quickly changed positions, turning him around and pinning him to the nearest stonewall before he could even process what was happening.

he looked at you with hooded eyes, the hushed pants that fell from his lips made his chest rise and fall rapidly. his hair tie, that had kept his hair up for the past few hours, slipped off from the movement, his brown hair cascaded down his shoulders. you took a moment to give him a once over, noticing the sweat that coated his skin had begun to cool off, leaving his skin sticky.

your eyes drifted down to his lower half, his cock, which was merely half hard earlier due to the rush of training or your actions you couldn't determine, was now fully hard. if you were to pull down his shorts, there was no doubt his length would stand proudly against his stomach.

leona let out a grunt, your eyes snapping back to his as a response. "what's this?" your free hand glided over to his erection, gently palming it through his shorts. his hips automatically bucked into your palm, though you were quick to pull away before he could get that satisfaction.

from the corner of your eye, you could see his tail flicking around, out of annoyance or anticipation you weren't too certain. he had a new glint in his eye, one you recognised for when he say you as his prey, his little play thing.

in the mess of his hair, you could just make out the flicking of his left ear and for a moment you realised that if he really wanted to take you down, he could do so easily.

and yet, here you were.

"you didn’t think i’d just let you get away with all that teasing, right?" you kept your voice light yet stern, "i let you get away with it for so long... what do you suppose i do about it, your highness?" you finished with a playful hilt in your voice, relishing in the way his tail swished from side to side at the honorific.

you felt it before you heard the deep rumble coming from his chest and you smiled, "oh, i'm sorry, did you not want to be called that, my prince?" you continued teasing, the hands trapped in your hold struggled to loosen your grip, yet you held on tightly.

you pulled the end of his top up to his lips, nudging his lips with the material, "bite down on it." your tone left no room for defiance and with little resistance, the dorm leader did as told.

guiding his legs to part, you tugged down his shorts, his boxers along with it. you cooed at his cock that sprang up immediately upon being released from its confinement. the action had leona sharply inhaling through his nose, his dick twitching from the cold air that hit his sensitive skin.

his cock was big, you'd even go as far as to say it was larger than average. it was a struggle to wrap your hand around it, but it was enough to garner a reaction from him. precum beaded on his tip even though you hadn't done anything.

while nestling yourself in between his legs, you sent him a warning look, "keep your hands to yourself or i stop everything." before wrapping your lips around his length.

"mmf!" leona's muffled cry came from above you, his hands hovering over your head before ultimately settling beside him, nails digging into his palm. you lowered yourself as far as you could, your hands wrapping around the end you couldn't reach.

you hollowed your cheeks and moved back up, sucking harshly around his tip. you kept your eyes trained on his face, observing the way his eyes had fallen shut and his eyebrows furrowing while you sucked him off.

his stomach strained, tightening his abs and making the muscles more prominent. it was clear he was restraining himself from bucking his hips up into your mouth so as a result his back arched further off the wall.

your tongue teased his slit, the precum tasting bitter on your tongue. his cock twitched a few times at your teasing and you came off his dick with a wet 'pop!'.

the prince groaned, all husky and deep, his eyes shooting open and looking at you with frustration. you had sensed he was close to cumming, which was exactly why you stopped your ministrations in the first place.

one hand immediately went to replace the loss of your mouth, pumping his cock at a steady pace. your other hand soothed over the strained muscles, his hands latching onto your arm. you wanted to swat them off, but one look at his teary eyes fizzled out that thought.

"s-stop groping, a-ah!" his raspy voice was muffled by the damp cloth caught between his teeth but you could make out whay he was saying. you chuckled but your hands didn't stop, instead they continued to glide over the expanse of skin which slowly turned into you raking your nails over the firm muscles.

you gave a single firm pump before falling back into your set pace and the black cloth fell from his lips. now only a portion of his chest was bare, though the lack of exposure was made up for with his husky whimpers and grunts.

"quiet now, you don't want the other students to hear you, do you?" realistically, you were aware that no one could hear, and if they did, they wouldn't pay any mind to it, but it was rewarding to see your boyfriend grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut while his hips bucked into the warmth of your hand.

"i wonder what they would think if they heard their dorm leader whining like this." you cooed, your hands alternating their pace despite the glare you received.

the lion gripped tightly onto you, his long, untrimmed nails clawing into your forearm. the sound of his hushed pants growing rougher, his head tipped back onto the stone wall as his back arched into your touch. his sharp fangs bit down hard on his bottom lip in an attempt to silence the grunts that threatened to spill over, though it proved futile when you teased his slit.

"you're doing so well, my grace." you hummed, precum dribbled from his head at the praise. you flicked your wrist at his sensitive head and kissed the corners of his lips at the groan he let out.

"you're so lewd, rutting desperately into my hand right after spelldrive practice." if looks could kill, you'd have perished long ago.

"to think, the scary, demanding captain of the spelldrive team is here, falling apart in his boyfriends arms... aren't you a naughty one?" leona growled at your words, though he cut himself off with a loud, needy whimper. his cock twitched at your words, despite the strong reaction at the degradation and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"it's a shame that this is a punishment, i love seeing the face you make when you cum... though i will admit i like seeing the face you make when i don't let you cum a teeny bit more."

the teary eyes that snapped to yours just made the urge to tease him stronger.

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2: Voices

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

You and Steven both try desperately to put your forbidden feelings behind you, but you're both finding it extremely difficult. Steven starts worrying that he's hearing things.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded.

Word Count: 2.7k

You woke up the next morning feeling better than the night before. You’d resolved to forget about anything to do with Steven that didn’t involve schoolwork. He was just a history professor. Nothing more, nothing less. It was nearly ten, and Layla was already gone. You wondered how you had managed to miss her alarm, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’d slept through noises that could cause an earthquake.

Your first class wasn’t until eleven, giving you ample time to get ready for the day. When you left, and you saw the logo for Moonbean Coffee down the road, you thought about going in there for a second. You gulped, clutching your bag close to yourself. As you approached the glass doors, you noticed he wasn’t inside and let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment. A small part of you had hoped to see Steven at the counter.

When you walked inside you waved to the cashier who saw you and got started on your order. There was a poster on the wall that you decided to read over while you waited. It talked about different attractions in the area. Your eyes stopped on a local art gallery, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Steven was at all interested in art.

“Here you go!” T said.

She snapped you from your thoughts. You thanked her, paid and then took your warm drink. It was disappointing not to have your quirky walking partner today, but it was for the best; at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

As you approached the brick building, you pulled your schedule out of your bag. You’d forgotten the room number for your creative writing class. Room 301 with Professor Harrow. You’d had a class with him a couple years ago and always remembered him being nice enough. His voice was soft, and he was understanding when you missed a couple of assignments due to poor time management.

When you got to the room, there was a guy you’d had writing classes with before, Cameron, sitting next to the only open seat. You walked over and sat down next to him, giving him a friendly smile which he returned.

“Same professor, same room,” he chuckled, flashing his charming grin.

“Same seat.” You said, recalling that the two of you managed to sit in those seats the last time you were in Harrow’s class together.

Professor Harrow, or Artie as he liked to be called, walked to the front of the class with a calm smile across his face.

“Welcome class, did you all enjoy your winter break?” He asked, to which the class responded with a few lackluster ‘yeahs’.

“Good. I see some familiar faces.” He looked at you and Cameron. “And some unfamiliar ones.”

As much as you enjoyed listening to Artie’s lectures, he had a tendency to talk very slowly and lull you nearly to sleep. If not for the man on your left, you would’ve been reprimanded for falling asleep during the class. There was one thing that immediately perked you up though. You looked out to the hall through the open double doors as a familiar curly haired man walked by.

----------------------------

Steven’s morning began on an odd note. He woke up on his couch, television on a channel he didn’t frequently watch, and his alarm blaring. He didn’t remember setting an alarm. Steven groaned, sitting up and running his hands over his face. This had to be addressed, before it went much further. With a tired stumble, he made his way to the bathroom, hands on either side of the sink, eyes directly at his reflection.

“If you’re in there, yeah, movin’ around and all, the least you can do is let me in on it.” He stared at his own reflection for a while, watching for any change, any sign of them. “Who was it? Was it you, Jake? Marc?”

Nothing. Not one sound.

“If you’re not going to talk to me, then leave me alone.”

He walked out to the living room again and started his day, getting his coffee brewing while he showered. You crossed his mind while he stood there washing himself. He felt guilty for touching himself the night before to the thought of you. It really was so wrong, and Steven normally behaved by the book.

When he’d finished, he went out to the kitchen in just his towel, grabbing a travel mug and filling it with his usual brew. He sort of wished he’d made his coffee himself yesterday. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t be trying to fight these new and confusing feelings he developed for you. He had just wanted to try the local coffee shop on his first day.

He found himself thinking about you more while he dressed himself. What was your favorite color? He was glad he didn’t know, or he might’ve tried to pick a tie to match. His cheeks were reddened by the thought of it, dressing in something that he hoped might catch your eye. He didn’t know if he could handle you looking at him again, though he knew he’d have to get over it sooner rather than later. You were his student after all. That’s all you were, just his student.

He didn’t live far from the building that his class was in, and he enjoyed the walk, even though it was chilly. When he was going by the familiar cafe that was Moonbean Coffee, he looked inside.

There you were.

His heart leapt and caught in his throat. If you turned around and caught him staring, it would be extremely awkward, but he needed to look, even for just one moment.

You were reading the poster on the wall, not looking in his direction at all. He remembered seeing it yesterday. Something on there made your lips quirk and he briefly wondered if you were also interested in the art gallery. He’d noticed it too when he was in there yesterday and it piqued his interest. When you turned to grab your coffee and leave, he knew his time was up and so he shuffled away quickly, not wanting you to catch him staring.

He got to the building without your noticing. He even watched you from the safety of his classroom as you walked by. You hadn’t even looked in to see if he was there. That was probably for the best; it meant you weren’t thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you and that was good. As his class ended a little while later, he continued to remind himself that you didn’t care, that you’d just casually walked by.

There was a paper he needed to make copies of, a handout for his next class on Ancient Greece, and a book he needed to borrow. With a smile on his face, and relief from the pressure of his impeding thoughts, he felt lighter as he walked toward the library.

Finally he was thinking about something other than you while he roamed the halls. He was thinking about the new show on TV he’d been waiting for. It also occurred to him that he didn’t do the crossword for the day yet. He smiled as he thought about stopping by the local diner to grab a bite and cozying up on the couch for a quiet evening in. Just him and Gus.

That is, until he looked into room 301, and you looked back, shattering all the thoughts in his mind.

You stiffened immediately. He even froze in the hall, catching your gaze. Your lips parted as you recalled the night you’d spent with your finger inside your soaking channel, wishing it were his instead. He moved away quickly, breaking your line of sight. Professor Harrow said your name, causing you to jump nearly out of your seat.

“Is there something much more interesting than this class happening in the hall?” He asked you, raising heat to your cheeks.

“U-um, no Mr. Harrow, I’m sorry it’s just…class was over five minutes ago and I have to get to my next class.” You gulped.

He squinted at the clock above the door and his lips curled into a humble smile.

“Would you look at that, it would seem I’ve become carried away once again. Well, I need that five page short story on my desk Thursday morning.” He said to the class. “Enjoy this beautiful day, folks.”

“He��s such a weirdo.” Cameron said, letting out a chuckle from behind you as you made your way to the door.

You giggled, “No kidding.”

You didn’t have another class for a couple of hours, meaning you could turn right and head to your dorm to pass the time with some TV or doing homework, but you were instead drawn to the left…where Steven had gone.

There was only one thing in that direction you could imagine Professor Grant heading toward: the library. You should’ve turned right. You should’ve walked away right then and there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He was right there. He was right down the hall and you just needed to see him.

Your school had a decent selection of books, both fiction and nonfiction. It was two stories tall, one of the biggest libraries you’d ever been in. There were a couple of librarians tending to some students at the counter, and several other students in the various tables and study spaces around. The lighting was dim and relaxing, you could spend an entire day in there easily, and figured that you might do that the next time you needed a quiet place to study.

You couldn’t very well walk up to the librarians and ask them to tell you where the frazzled looking british man went when he walked in there. Instead, you listened. Steven was anything but quiet in the short time you knew him.

“Bugger, this bloody machine!”

As you’d suspected, he gave himself away too easily. You still shouldn’t have been there, chasing after your history professor like a lost puppy, but you couldn’t help yourself. You heard him smacking something when you walked by several shelves of books to see him in the printer room, fighting with the machine.

“Steven?” You said softly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m trying to get this damn-” He turned around and finally noticed that it was you talking to him. “Oh…hi.” A dopey smile spread over his lips.

“Hey.” You said, returning the awkward smile.

He shook his head out of the fog it was under and slapped his hand on his thigh in frustration.

“This bloody thing, it…I can’t get it to work. I just need twenty copies of this one…” He turned back around, crinkling the sheet in his hand as he tried to pull it out of the printer.

“Steven, stop, Steven!” You said, grabbing his hand and putting your other palm on his back.

He stopped trying to pull on the paper, like your touch had frozen his body in place. You had moved to grab his hand so quickly you hadn’t really thought about the fact that you were touching the man who you’d masturbated to the night before. His hand was soft, you thought nervously, letting go as if he’d burned you and stepping back.

“I…erm…the machine, it…doesn’t work.” He said as if all the air had been removed from his lungs.

“Let me take a look. I used to help out at my dad’s office sometimes.” You squeezed around Steven and into the small space.

All the air had all escaped his lungs. The feeling of your fingers around his hand remained like a burn across his skin, branding him. He stepped back, giving you space to work. You were gentle in the way you opened the printer, pulling out the crumpled sheet of paper. You looked at him, holding the manhandled sheet, raising your eyebrows.

“You’re going to need a new paper to make copies with.” You said to him.

“It…it was my only copy and I thought, I thought I knew how to use a little printer. Got myself through a PhD, no problem.”

He watched you go back to work, completely dumbfounded. You straightened out the sheet. He was mad at himself for staring so longingly at every curve of your body. There was a little bit of your back showing where your shirt and the waist of your pants were supposed to meet. He found his hand pressing to his chest in sheer amazement of your beauty. He’d never felt so foolish as he did in that moment.

That was, until you bent down. He hadn’t backed up nearly far enough and your rear brushed against him. He stepped back quickly when you whipped your head around, eyes full of surprise. He raised his eyebrows sheepishly and stared at the floor.

“Sorry I-erm-I didn’t realize I was so close.” He said, nearly collapsing from embarrassment.

Settle down, pendejo.

“Sorry, what?” Steven said to you.

You stood and turned around, “What?”

His blood ran cold. That couldn’t have been…

“Sorry I thought you said something.” He muttered.

“No, I didn’t. How many copies did you say you needed?” You asked, waiting expectantly.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, “erm, twenty.”

Amazingly, the deformed sheet went through without an issue, and the printer started spitting out pages. When you turned back around, you noticed Steven’s hands clasped in front of his nether region. You trailed up to look at his eyes, following his tie that coincidentally was your favorite color. A genuine smile spread over his face.

“Thanks for your help…” His toothy grin remained as you skirted by him.

“You’re welcome. See you in the morning.” You said, leaving the library quickly so your knees wouldn’t give out from shaking so hard.

For the rest of the day, he flooded your mind. Steven was a heavy cloud, sitting inside your cranium and soaking through you, deep into your core. His smile burned into your memory like a hot iron. You’d never felt like this about anyone, so why him? There were perfectly attractive men at your school that you could date. Perhaps Cameron would be interested in going out for coffee. There was no reason to be so infatuated with the one that you weren’t allowed to have, but you couldn’t help it.

Why did he have to look at you like that, like his brain shut down the moment his eyes fell on you? Every. Single. Time. Why did he have to stand so close to you while you worked on that damn printer? Why did you go to the library after seeing him walk that way in the first place? You should’ve walked to the right, back to your dorm, when you’d left Professor Harrow’s class.

Steven was asking himself the same questions, but particularly falling on the one regarding his close proximity to you while you fixed the printer. He stayed in the printer room for a while, even after the pages had finished spitting out of it, just willing his erection to cease before he went to his next class. You had his mind racing, only thinking about you.

He was ashamed to have given the class a simple writing assignment so he could spend his time thinking about you instead. The way you smiled, how your hand felt touching his, how your bum felt against him. He cleared his throat, catching the attention of several others in the room before they returned to their work. He looked down at his glasses, and there was a delay in his reflection, as though it were running behind. It was there, for sure. He saw it.

There was a delay…they’re back.

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sairee · 4 months

Text

Keep it buried (Ghost x Soap)

Laswell confronts Ghost about leaving. When she brings one of Soap's sketchbooks, Ghost can feel his resolve cracking.

Chapter 41 excerpt from Don't Let Me Go on ao3.

Ghost shook his head and took a sip of his drink to stop his thoughts. He’d carefully trained his brain to think of nothing but the present. It was easier that way. Less painful.

An eruption of boisterous laughter coming from his team caught his attention and forced him to look up against his better judgement. He let out a huffed breath and quickly looked away. He leaned back in his chair and rested his head against the wall, the tiredness he felt weighing down his eyes.

He tapped his nail against the glass and pointedly ignored them across the way.

Maybe the free drink wasn’t worth it.

Ghost looked to the right and squinted his eyes slightly as he searched for a washroom sign against the back wall. He’d just located the neon sign hanging above a small corridor when he noticed a figure approach his table out of the corner of his eye. He looked over just in time to see it pull out a chair and sit down across from him.

Ghost let out a sigh as he immediately recognized who it was.

“You’re not supposed to know where I am…” Ghost stated blankly.

Laswell shifted slightly in her chair and leaned forward on the table, clasping her hands in front of her.

“I took some liberties with the rules,” she said matter-of-factly.

Ghost let out a huff in disbelief. “You do that a lot.”

“I can when I made them in the first place.”

Ghost took a long and drawn out sip from his drink. He looked past her to scan the bar again. He didn’t want to look at her… or couldn’t. He didn’t need to be reminded of the past any more than he already was. This was the last thing he needed. Why was she here anyway?

After a few moments of tense silence, Laswell spoke up again.

“I never took you as one to make rash decisions.”

The even-toned insult cut right to the chase and forced Ghost to look at her. She stared back with a neutral expression.

Ghost grunted. “You must not know me very well then. Why are you here?”

“I’ve known many men who decided that happiness wasn’t for them,” Laswell said, ignoring Ghost. “They dedicate themselves to the job. Dedicate their bodies to the work. Refuse anything that goes against this ideal.”

Ghost shook his head at yet another lecture he appeared to be getting. Surely she had better things to do with her time.

“Some might find that noble,” Ghost replied. He hoped he didn’t sound too defensive.

“It’s not,” Laswell retorted. “It’s self-sacrificing bullshit. The world doesn’t need another martyr. It doesn’t care. It’s not honourable to give your life – anyone can do that. Real bravery comes from choosing to be happy when the world is fighting to keep you miserable.”

Ghost rolled his eyes and put his drink down on the table with a thud.

“Did you come all this way just to insult me?”

“No,” Laswell said, leaning over to reach at something underneath the table. She ruffled through a black bag for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, placing it on the table in front of Ghost.

It was a regular notebook about one centimetre in thickness. The hard, black cover was wrapped in a small elastic from top to bottom to keep the slightly yellowed pages shut. Imprinted gold lettering at the top read out NOTEBOOK and was surrounded by a simple, rectangular border. The worn away edges and sporadic scratches against the cover indicated it had been well-used.

Ghost immediately recognized it as one of Soap’s notebooks.

“This one was accidentally left behind when cleaning out your old room and locker. By the look on your face, I’m assuming you know what it is.”

Ghost flicked his eyes up to look at Laswell with careful caution.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

Laswell linked her hands together again. “I don’t know,” she stated plainly. “I didn’t look. It’s not for me to look, now is it?”

Ghost felt the unwanted presence of the notebook demand his attention again and he slowly trailed his eyes down to look at it. He clenched his jaw as he focused intensely on keeping his expression neutral. He remained silent.

Laswell shifted in her seat and let out a sigh, the first display of emotion cracking through her stony exterior. She tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips, a tinge of sadness glinting in her eyes.

“Let me ask you this, Simon,” she said softly. “What do you think will cause more harm? You staying or you leaving?” Laswell paused for a second before finding the right words to continue. “Who are you hurting more? You… or John.”

Ghost harshly clenched his fist underneath the table, hoping the pain would help him clear his mind from of the incoming thoughts that threatened to spill over.

Laswell stood up from the table like it took great effort to move her body. She picked up her bag and let it hang down from her hand. Her other hand rested gently on the table as she stopped her movements, hesitating.

“I won’t be keeping tabs on you anymore – I’ve stuck my neck out enough as it is. I just figured you should have that. Simon, I truly hope you’ve thought about what you’re doing and… and if this is what’s best… then I wish you luck. If not… well… just know you’re not as alone as you think you are. You still have a family out there.”

With that being said, Laswell slung the bag over her shoulder and turned away from the table. She took a few long strides across the bar and opened the door to the outside, disappearing into the chilly night yet again.

Ghost’s thumb wiped away the condensation on his glass, unable to tear his eyes away from the notebook. The entire bar appeared to go silent as if waiting with bated breath for him to do something. The edges of his vision darkened until nothing beyond his table existed.

He should walk away. He should throw it in the trash. He should…

He traced his fingers along the edge of the notebook as his mind continued to scream at him to stop. He struggled with his heart which tugged him in the opposite direction. The book felt like it was sparking with life underneath his fingertips.

His willpower cracked and Ghost pulled the book closer. He slipped the elastic off and gently turned over the cover, beginning to flip through the pages.

The drawings were scattered messily across the pages without any rhyme or reason. On some pages, every last inch of space was filled while on others there was just one image. They ranged from loose line art, to detailed sketches, to fully shaded drawings. As he flipped through the pages, Ghost carefully examined everything he saw.

There were a few drawings of the paper crane he had made from several different angles. To his knowledge, Soap had only seen it for a short period of time. It amazed Ghost how much Soap could draw with detailed accurately just from memory.

Soap’s dog tag looped across two pages in winding coils and curves. A large Rubik’s Cube remained unsolved with various levels of shading on the pieces. A bottle of Scotch poured out into a small glass, a few drops splashing out and dripping down onto the table it sat on. A tree bent over slightly as its branches blew in the breeze through a wide window.

There were a number of drawings of people Ghost didn’t recognize. They were other soldiers as indicated by the collars of their shirts on some of the portraits. There were a few of them he recognized as being on the base when they were holed up in Austria many months back.

A full body image of König took up the entire height on the page as he stared straight forward. A curved arrow pointed to his head with the caption ‘He has no right being this tall. What do they feed Austrian babies anyway??’ written in Soap’s normal, messy handwriting.

He also saw detailed drawings of the rest of the 141.

Price slept in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his ankles linked together. The image was a familiar one. Ghost imaged Soap would have had many opportunities to draw this one. His chin was tilted down and his hat obscured half his face.

Next to him, Price’s hat was drawn to greater scale. ‘Burn it.’

Just below Price’s hat was also a drawing of Gaz’s baseball cap. ‘This one too while we’re at it.’

Ghost let out an unexpected chuckle.

Gaz’s side profile was intensely focusing on something undrawn in the distance, his brow furrowed seriously. On another page, Alejandro scowled deeply as he sat next to a beaming Rudy giving a thumbs up.

Ghost came across a small conversation the two of them had had while listening to a boring debriefing one day, the memory sparking to life before him.

‘wanna bet 50 quid on which direction the lieutenant will authorize the siege?’ Soap had written.

‘YOU’RE ON.’ Ghost wrote in his normal capital letters. ‘SOUTH IS THE SMARTEST OPTION.’

‘you’re right. that’s why I’m saying north.’

Against his better judgment of the situation, Ghost had lost the bet. The memory of Soap’s smug smile made his chest clench painfully.

‘I DON’T ACTUALLY HAVE 50 QUID.’

‘oh no… what could you POSSIBLY do to repay me…’ An innocent smiley face.

Ghost kept flipping through the pages until he was several pages in. There he started to see a lot of drawings of himself that made his heart flutter.

Incredibly detailed drawings of Ghost with his mask on from a number of different angles and looking in various directions. His eyes looked so real and somehow appeared to sparkle under nonexistent light on the page. In one image, his eyes were half-closed in an annoyed expression. In another, the corners of his eyes crinkled happily and, although he couldn’t see it in the image, he could feel he was smiling under the mask.

There were a few drawings of him with his eyes closed, the relaxed looseness of his brow and the way the mask folded oddly on his face indicating that he had been asleep when they were drawn.

Ghost recognized several iterations of his balaclava and hard skull mask across different lighting conditions. His knife was clenched tightly in his hand, the sketching work on his fingers looking incredibly realistic. Two entire pages were dedicated to sketching all of Ghost’s tattoos in a mosaic of no particular order.

He flipped the page and felt his breath get caught in his throat.

Two detailed drawings of Ghost’s face filled the page – without his mask. The lines that shaped his face were soft and perfectly placed. His expression was open and his eyes squinted tenderly, as if amused by something. The corner of his mouth was pulled up in a small smile that one could easily miss. Each of his scars were meticulously drawn on his skin that even he himself would not be able to place correctly.

A scattering of eraser bits littered the page which hadn’t been wiped away yet. Ghost gently dragged his hand down the page and wiped them away, the shavings floating silently down onto the table.

Ghost could feel tears start to sprout in the corners of his eyes and he swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. He focused on the sound of his own breathing, struggling to keep his mind level-headed.

The carefully crafted wall that Ghost had built up began to crumble down in a matter of seconds. The thoughts he had tried to keep at bay for so long flooded his mind. If he didn’t get control of himself soon, he would surely drown in them.

He missed Soap so fucking much. He missed Soap so much that he felt every nerve ending in his body longed to touch him again.

He missed Soap’s unwavering presence by his side both on and off the battlefield. He missed the way Soap would start to bounce his leg or tap him fingers when he was starting to lose focus. He missed Soap’s annoying humour and shit-eating grins.

He missed Soap’s kind eyes that seemed to see deeper into Ghost than anyone had before. They seemed to see something that even Ghost couldn’t see in himself. He missed the way he pressed his lips desperately against Soap’s as if he was the air in Ghost’s lungs. He missed Soap’s warm body and warm hands that clung to him at night as they lay in bed together.

He missed the way that everything felt easy when he was with Soap. How everything felt like it was going to be okay. The world didn’t seem so dark when Soap was the light next to him, the two of them walking side by side.

Ghost slowly closed the book and rested his head back against the wall, every fiber of his being pulsating with longing.

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 2 months

Text

you're a bad idea (i'll never say no to)

Summary: After an awful one night stand, you find some comfort (and more) in an unlikely source

Pairing: Nick Miller x fem!reader

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+, oral sex (fem receiving), sexual innuendo, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating

A/N: i remembered i had this draft lying around and it was not as bad as i thought, so here it is for y'all to enjoy!!

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @elfinbloodbag @fictionobsession (not sure if you care about nick miller, but if you do, i hope y'all enjoy!! if you don't want to be tagged, let me know <3)

\_/

Entering the loft, you found Nick laying on the couch in complete darkness. You only noticed him because of the dim light that shone through the windows. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, his hand wrapped around a bottle of booze that, in the darkness, you couldn’t entirely make out.

“Hey, Nick.”

He groaned, raising his bottle in what you imagined was his way of greeting you home.

“Anyone else home?”

He answered with another —negative— groan, putting his lips around the bottle and taking a long sip. You sat down on the other end of the couch, reaching out for the bottle that, after a scowl, he handed to you.

“So, what are we drinking for?” you asked, after gulping down some of the liquor. Probably whiskey, given the burning taste it left in your mouth.

“I’m drinking,” he started as he sat up on the couch, “because life sucks.”

“Preach.”

You took another sip under Nick’s tipsy but inquisitive stare.

“Why are you drinking?”

“Can’t I just drink because I want to?”

Nick raised his eyebrows, scoffing slightly and raising his hands in surrender. “Trust me, I won’t be the one to stop you.”

You nodded, lowering your gaze on the glass bottle in your hands as you pondered pensively if it was wise to drink more of that. You had to show up at work the next day, you couldn’t miss another shift without a reasonable excuse.

“Didn’t you have that big thing tonight?”

Your fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle.

“Yeah, you had that date with the guy you met a while back at the bar.” He turned towards you, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa. “How did it go?”

You didn’t answer. You just took another swing of the liquor —definitely whiskey, your burning throat confirmed— before giving the bottle back to Nick.

“Wow…” he chuckled as he placed the whiskey on the floor, “that bad, uh?”

“I mean…” You threw your head back on the couch. “It wasn’t going that badly but then…” You groaned in frustration, covering your face with your hands.

Nick scooted a little closer, the leather of the couch creaking under him. “Well, well, color me intrigued.”

Your arms fell to your lap as you skeptically looked at him. “I don’t think you really want to hear anything regarding my misadventures in dating.”

“You underestimate me, I love hearing about other people’s misfortunes.” He took the bottle once again before handing it back to you with a smile. “Makes me feel better about my awful life.”

You snorted as you gladly accepted his offer.

“Well, then you’re really going to enjoy this.”

“His mom?!”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes through the embarrassment. Your hand moved on his own and brought the nearly empty bottle to your lips; some more booze to hopefully quiet down those memories freshly ingrained in your brain.

“And she did not only walk in on us having sex, but she also started giving both of us a lecture on protections, trust and cheating…”

“Don’t tell me he has a girlfriend,” he murmured, already in a fit of giggles.

“He has a girlfriend! Good job, Miller!”

You clapped as you watched Nick almost rolling with laughter. His head was thrown back, his body incredibly close to falling flat either on the couch or the ground, depending on which direction he swayed in. Every time you thought he was about to fall face-first into the floor, and every time he managed to balance himself at the last moment and not break his nose.

“That’s the LA experience right there, little Day.” He gave you a fist bump and stole the bottle from you. “You haven’t lived here unless you’ve had at least one weird hook-up.”

As he downed what remained of the whiskey, you realized how cute he looked when he smiled. In the two weeks since you had ‘moved in’ with your sister, crashing in her shared apartment while you looked for one of your own, Nick Miller hadn’t exactly been Mr. Sunshine. The moment you had set your foot through the door of the loft, he had made clear he didn’t love the idea of you staying there —or at least, that was before you said you were going to help with the rent— and since then, whenever you were around he acted more like a robot than a human.

Answering in monosyllables, sometimes even ignoring you when you were in the room, it was almost logical that you had come to the conclusion that Nick Miller hated you.

“He does not hate you,” Jess had assured you despite your skepticism. “He’s just not the biggest fan of change.”

Telling the truth, from what you had seen so far, Nick wasn’t the biggest fan of anything. He spent most of his day complaining about everything he could think about. The half-broken sink. The socio-economic injustice that plagued the US. Pants with tight crotches.

But most of all, something that he avoided like the plague itself: talking with other people. Sure enough, he and the other three roommates talked all the time: always fighting, bickering, gossiping, bothering each other in that irritating but loving way that you —as a sibling— could understand. However, when it came to opening up and communicating without filters or jokes, it seemed like he would’ve much preferred jumping off the roof of the loft than to actually say how he felt. He could do it, but he always seemed about to puke when he had to.

After the cold shoulder he gave you for two weeks, you were surprised that you were able to have a civil conversation with him at all. Obviously there were no feelings or any other deep emotional stuff, but it was still baffling how easy it was to just be with him like that.

Maybe it was just the booze.

“I bet you’ve had many weird hook-ups,” you teased him, poking his leg with your shoe.

“I’ve…” Nick trailed off for a moment, his eyes following the shape of your leg —from the ankle to the knee— before clearing his throat and looking away. “I’ve had my fair share.”

You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head as you watched Nick in the dim light. It might’ve been the booze, but he looked incredibly hot. Since you had arrived at the loft, your eyes had always been drawn to Nick, one way or the other. You often found yourself lingering on him as he walked by, replaying every interaction you two shared in your head for hours before letting it go.

His scruffy attractiveness wasn’t a subjective matter, it was a fact. But at that specific moment, there was just something more to him. Perhaps it was his hair, all messed up and going in all different directions, or his cheeks, slightly flushed because of the whiskey… or perhaps —you thought— because of you.

When he looked back at you he scoffed, shaking his head and standing up, his gaze glued to the ceiling.

“Don’t look at me like that, little Day.”

“Like what, Nick?”

He didn’t answer: he just stepped away from the couch, heading to the kitchen while chanting no to himself. You followed him with your eyes as he opened the fridge and took a beer. The condensation glistened on the glass as Nick opened the bottle and brought it to his lips. You swallowed as you watched him drink, transfixed by the movement of his Adam’s apple with every gulp he took.

He came back to the couch, sitting on the other end of it, putting as much distance between you two as he could. Despite that, he kept glancing at you before looking away immediately after.

“You’re Jess’ younger sister.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“She will kill me if I…” His eyes darted to your face, falling to your mouth and then lowering even more. “If we…”

“If we what?”

He shook his head and took another long sip of beer, avoiding your piercing stare.

Frowning in annoyance, you stood up and plopped on the couch next to him. You took the beer from his hand and put it on the shelves behind the couch. When you did, your fingers brushed: despite the cold bottle in his hands, his skin was warm. You blamed the booze for the thoughts that started filling your head, wondering how his fingers would’ve felt on you.

“If we what, Miller?”

Nick took a deep breath before turning towards you with a wry smile. “It’s the rules of the loft, little Day.” He moved one arm on the back of the couch, just behind your shoulders. “As roommates, we vowed not to nail each other or each other’s siblings.”

You raised your eyebrow with a smirk. “So you want to nail me?”

“I never said that,” Nick pointed out immediately, shaking his head with a smile, “and I’m ready to deny these accusations in court.”

You nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“So…” you started again, shifting on your seat until your shoulder was pressed against his side, “you don’t want to nail me?”

The smile on his face faded, leaving behind just a hint of softness in his features. “I never said that either.”

He stood still, looking into your eyes while someone shouted in the streets below and a far away car alarm kept ringing. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers moved on the back of your neck, brushing on your skin and leaving behind a trail of fire. You held your breath for a moment, getting used to the sensation and keeping your tipsy mind from roaming too far away.

“I see,” you whispered as your fingers moved along his jaw, the rough stubble grazing against your fingertips. “It must be a very hard decision for you.”

He nodded, his mouth opening ever so slightly when you pressed your thumb on his bottom lip, still damp from the beer. You leaned in, stopping just a couple of inches from his face. So close that you could feel his breath on your face.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

You pulled away with a smirk, quite amused by Nick’s annoyed face. “So you can make up your mind without any distractions.”

You pushed yourself up, headed to Jess’ bedroom. You were already dreading sleeping once again on the air mattress that she had kindly lent you when a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back on the couch.

As you fell across Nick’s lap, one of his arms wrapped around your back and the other held your waist. His mouth was on yours before you could say or do anything, and when his lips started moving your brain melted just as much as your body did in his hold. It was unexpected, a mess of crashing limbs and lips that tasted of alcohol and poor decisions, and a warmth almost too intense for your fogged mind.

When you pulled away, breathless after just a few seconds, you found him staring at you, his lips parted as he inhaled shakily and a longing glimmer in his eyes.

“I think I might’ve made up my mind.”

You snorted, gently holding his neck as you ran your thumbs along it. “Took you long enough.”

Your back soon met the cushions of the couch as he cupped the back of your neck —tugging ever so slightly at your hair— and dove back onto your mouth, deepening the kiss when you parted your lips again. Gripping his scratchy flannel, you pulled Nick closer as you kissed him back, wrapping your legs around him. When you felt his crotch pressing against your core, a groan of desire left your lips, silenced by Nick’s mouth while his hands wondered along your thighs and towards the hem of your shorts.

“Jess can never know about this,” he stressed as he pulled away, just enough for your eyes to meet. “Ever,” he added, your lips brushing when he spoke.

“I’ve lied successfully to my sister thousands of times.” You nudged your nose against his with a smirk. “What about you, sweaty-back? Will you be able to hide it?”

Nick rolled his eyes, half a smile gracing his face before you pulled him back in for another kiss. Despite the stubble, his lips were soft and gentle, even when you were eating each other’s mouths. It might’ve been the booze that still lingered on them, but the more you drowned in their taste, the more intoxicating it got and the harder it was to pull away from them, even to just breathe.

“Maybe-” you gasped, moaning softly while Nick left a trail of kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, “maybe we should go to your room. Before anyone-”

He shoved those few words back in your throat with another kiss, pushing your shirt up as his hands glided along your skin. His warm palms pressed against your bare waist created a loud cacophony of sensations which made your guts twist all around.

“Yeah,” he nodded as he pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his lips ever so slightly glimmering with spit in the dim light. “Let’s do that.”

It took you all of your self-control not to drag him back on top of you.

He clumsily stood up, his legs all tangled in yours, and then helped you to your feet. Before you could take another step, Nick placed his hands on your waist and pulled you into him. His mouth was back on your neck, almost tickling as he kept kissing and sucking your skin.

“Nick, I swear to God,” you muttered between a giggle and a moan as he dragged you both to his room, “if you give me a hickey I-”

His mouth moved from your jaw and sloppily closed around yours. His tongue moved on your lips, that opened to it without any resistance. You threw your arms over his shoulders, pulling him in as he blindly opened the door and then closed it.

After hearing the lock click, you felt the plywood pressing against your back while his mouth wandered even deeper into yours. Your hands tightened on his hair, gaining a moan from Nick that died in your throat.

When he finally pulled away, the only sound in Nick’s bedroom was your heavy breathing as your lungs slowly filled.

“As I was saying,” you sighed with trembling voice, “I will not hesitate one second to throw you under the bus.”

“God.” His whisper brushed onto your numb-kissed mouth, his fingers cupping your jaw and running on your bottom lip. “Do you ever shut up?”

You threw your head against the door, eyebrows cocked and a smirk gracing your glistening lips.

“Do you want me to shut up?” With your eyes glued to Nick’s, you hooked your finger to his jeans and pulled him in. “Or do you want to hear me scream, Miller?”

“Fuck!”

The moan left your mouth louder than you expected as Nick curled his fingers inside of your cunt, reaching the deepest part of you before pulling them out and then thrusting them in at an agonizing pace.

“Do you like this?”

His whispered question hit your inner thigh, followed by the grazing of his beard as he let his lips run over your skin. His warm breath brushed on your core, tingling on the wet and sensitive skin between your legs.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding quickly as you watched him pushing his fingers in again, both of them disappearing inside of you up to his knuckles. “Can you go faster?”

Nick chuckled against your leg, curling his fingers once more —almost touching that soft spot inside of you— before slowly pulling them out. You groaned, throwing your head back on the pillows, while he moved the sticky fingers up and down your thigh.

“You don’t have a grain of patience in you.”

“Well, at least I’m not edging someone who’s had a terrible-”

You took a sharp breath in when his tongue lapped your folds, his hands grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. Before you could even think about anything else, he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking onto it, stealing another loud whimper from you.

“God, you’re so loud.”

His words rumbled against your slick, twisting the knot in your abdomen that was aching to be released. You bit down on your lip as you felt a flush of warmth growing on your face, suddenly too aware of yourself, too bare in front of him. Then a soft tapping on your thigh drew your gaze back between your legs. Nick was there, looking back at you with a smirk pulling upwards his lips damp with your slick.

“I love it.”

Your throbbing core sent one last aching pulse before Nick, his eyes still stuck in yours, dove right back into it. When his tongue slithered inside you, lapping your folds and walls, you closed your eyes as your mouth started letting out the most lewd sounds you had ever heard.

He kept fucking you with his tongue, moving it back and forth as you bucked your hips towards him for more friction, chasing that release you’d been looking for all night. Then Nick turned his head ever so slightly —an accident, probably just trying to find a position that hurt less for his neck— and, with every thrust inside of you, his nose started nudging your clit. Over, and over, and over.

Your hand jolted to his hair, keeping his face in place as you bucked your hips again and again, as much as you could despite the rush of pleasure that was starting to overcome you, the same rush that had transformed you in a whimpering mess, unable to form one single word.

“Fuck- I-”

Whatever you wanted to say, it died in your mouth as his tongue curled inside of you and his nose nudged once more against your clit. That was the last push you needed; soon after you were writhing in the bed, your hands tightening around Nick’s hair as the knot in your abdomen finally loosened and a sudden warmth rushed to your face, and every other inch of your body.

As your muscles and grip eventually relaxed, you felt one final lick running along your sensitive and over-stimulated folds before Nick sneaked out of the nestled spot between your legs.

“So.”

He crawled to the spot next to you, his fingertips roaming along your sternum as your chest kept slowly raising and falling with each breath you took. With the rush of adrenaline and desire still running through your veins, even his ghost touch was enough to make your insides tremble.

“So what?” you breathed, turning your head to meet that annoying, attractive grin — still glistening with your cum.

“Was it or was it not the best oral of your life?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I see, you’re speechless.” He nodded to himself. “Understandable, I’ve trained a lot for this.”

“Ah, yes…” you chuckled lightly, taking his hand in yours and playing with his fingers. “Nothing more romantic than to hear about your previous one night stands.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Was this supposed to be romantic?”

“This? God, no! But next time…”

Nick scoffed. “You’ve already decided there’s going to be a next time?”

“Why not?”

“Little Day…”

Before he could say more — before he could try and convince you how that was a really bad idea — you pushed yourself up and sat on his abdomen, legs spread on either side of his body.

“I mean, at least let me ride you before you decide.”

His mouth hung open for a few seconds, a couple of terrifying seconds. Then his hands slowly crept along your thighs, taking hold of your flesh with a mischievous grin.

“I would never say no to that.”

#nick miller x reader #nick miller #new girl #jessica day #annie writes

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sarcasticscribbles · 4 months

Text

MAG 022 Sasha the Archivist AU

(Statement of Timothy Stoker, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding a close encounter with something he believes to have once been Jane Prentiss). Context (role switching)

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST Tim, are you sure?

TIM I want to make a statement, something happened, and I don’t know- I mean, it’s what we do, right?

ARCHIVIST Not really, we research statements. Then we archive them. We don’t make them.

TIM Fine, fine, but I need to tell someone what happened and you- or this, is the best I got.

ARCHIVIST Tim.

TIM Just, hear me out, okay? And then, you can either toss it aside or dismiss it, like you usually do with everything I say.

ARCHIVIST I don’t do that.

TIM It doesn’t need to be an official statement, I just need it off my chest, please, Sasha.

ARCHIVIST … Are you okay?

TIM I don’t know.

ARCHIVIST … Tell me what happened. Statement of Timothy Stoker, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding…

TIM A real encounter with what I believe to have once been Jane Prentiss.

ARCHIVIST Recorded direct from subject, 12th March, 2016.

Statement begins.

TIM Well, a while ago, a few weeks, you were looking into that statement about the spider that wouldn’t go away. Carlos Vittery, the haunted spider statement. Something about it didn’t sit right with me, the whole web death, that doesn’t happen. No other recorded cases of spiders spinning their web around human corpses in England. I asked Martin about it, he loved Spider’s- a little too much if you ask me. Remember the lecture he gave when you smashed that big one in the library –

ARCHIVIST Stick to the statement, Tim.

TIM Right. Right, yes. You asked me to find anything I could about Mr. Vittery, and when my usual methods ended up empty-handed, I.. I decided to check out his flat in Boothby Road. It wasn’t too far of a trip, I know the Institute won’t cover it. That’s not why I’m doing it, I’m not looking for Institute funds any more. I found the building, early morning, and it looks just like Mr. Vittery described in his statement. It’s locked, obviously, I can’t get in and no one answered the buzzers. I had already got this far and I didn’t want to come back with nothing to you – because I know what that entails, so I started looking around. I found a basement window that slightly ajar. It isn’t much, but I’m pretty sure I can get through if I can open it.

[...]

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends. And you’re sure, about this, Tim?

TIM I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about something like this. I know you take your job seriously, I wouldn’t want to waste your time.

ARCHIVIST I didn’t say you did.

TIM No but… I would only do this if it happened.

ARCHIVIST I suppose. Tim, I-

There’s a room in the Archives, I’ve used it before when I’ve worked late. You can stay there for now, if you want, it’s not too bad. I’ll talk to Geuturde and maybe have her look into some extra security. The Archives have enough lock to make you feel safe, and the windows should be properly sealed.

TIM [Confused & flustered] Oh. Okay… Yeah, thanks. I honestly didn’t expect you to… Believe me.

ARCHIVIST I thought you said you lost your phone two weeks ago?

TIM Yeah, something like that, when I went back to the basement.

ARCHIVIST Yeah. I have received several text messages from your phone, claiming you’re still ill with a stomach bug… Last one said you thought it “might be a parasite”. I tried calling you and you never picked up. So, if this does involve Jane Prentiss, then I take it very seri–

[PHONE BUZZES] Wait

TIM What?

ARCHIVIST Another text from you. “Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.”

TIM Excuse me?

ARCHIVIST It means I’ll ask Gertrude to hire some extra security. I’ll tell Jon and Martin too. I’ll check through the Archives, as I think we have a statement from Ms. Prentiss herself in here somewhere.

Recording ends.

[CLICK]

#a draft #I'm working on more s1 eps too #i want timsasha tension #the magnus archives #tma #mag #sasha the archivist

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pickalilywrites · 5 months

Note

Aruani fic. Armin is nervous about his first date with Annie on Christmas. Asks advice from his friends.

i don't write aruani a lot so thank you for this!!! it was fun!!! happy holidays :)

holidate to-do list

aruani. college au. 2205 words. read on ao3.

Armin's friends are piled up on the couch. Some are even seated on the floor because of the lack of available seats, but they don’t seem to mind. They sit in the dark, attentive as if they’re waiting for a movie to start when in reality they’re awaiting Armin’s upcoming presentation. The nervous marine biology student fidgets nervously in front of them, adjusting his sweater vest and tugging at the sleeves of his button up. In one hand he holds a clicker for his upcoming presentation.

One of Armin’s friends, Reiner Braun, raises his hand. “Can I ask that we skip over the reproduction cycle of whatever rare aquatic animal you’re going to be covering today?” he asks. “Because I think all these fish are cool and all, but hearing about how they reproduce really makes them seem so much less majestic afterward and I would like to cling onto whatever little wonder I have left for the world.”

“Weren’t you the one who said you would fuck a mermaid or a fishman?” Ymir asks. She’s sitting on a stool beside the couch, one arm thrown casually over Historia’s shoulder.

“That’s different,” Reiner says dismissively.

Armin clears his throat. “So, two things. First thing: this isn’t about fish or any kind of marine life. Second thing: If I were to give a seminar about marine life, I couldn’t possibly leave out reproductive cycles as they’re essential to any organism’s life cycle.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Reiner sighs.

“We are gathered here today to discuss a very important issue,” Armin continues before hitting the button on his clicker so that the slides appear on the blank wall behind him. The title slides have falling snowflakes and the words Planning the Perfect First Date in Times New Roman. “I am requesting your input on how to plan my perfect first date with a Miss Annie Leonhardt.”

The group of friends let out a chorus of oohs and Connie remarks, “Oh, I was wondering why she wasn’t here.”

“Not me,” Mikasa says. “I just assumed that you intentionally left her out.”

Mikasa and Annie’s rivalry is a strange one. The two are very similar: intelligent, of few words, and intensely loyal to their friends. Maybe it’s because they’re so similar that they clash so often. If Armin were to pick an incident that instigated the unspoken rivalry between the two girls, he would probably have to cite that time in the freshman year when Eren had given Annie a passing compliment in the gym. The funny thing is, Eren had forgotten what he had said as soon as it left his lips and Annie didn’t care enough to pay attention to him. It’s a bit unclear why Eren complimenting Annie had soured Mikasa’s opinion of the icy blonde so much, but the memory of it had left a lasting bad impression. The two had never been on good terms to begin with, and that incident had permanently doomed any goodwill between them.

“Why can’t you just ask Annie out normally?” Eren asks, belatedly throwing up his hand. He only ever participates in lectures if Armin’s giving them out in front of friends, much to his professors’ exasperation. Otherwise, Eren’s brain goes on autopilot. The only reason he’s getting passing grades in his courses is because Armin keeps dragging him to study sessions in the library every other day.

“That is an excellent question, Eren, but I would appreciate it if you guys would save any questions you might have for the end of my presentation,” Armin says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand. “You may find that the answers will be presented in my slides, and anything that isn’t covered can be explored in the Q&A session at the end.”

“I’m confused,” Marco says. “I thought you and Annie were already dating.”

“You are one of the only person who can tolerate her for extended periods of time,” Mikasa points out, which isn’t … untrue. If there is one thing that differs between Mikasa and Annie, it’s that Mikasa is much more sociable than Annie, who prefers her social circles to only consist of two or three people at most.

“I thought you two were dating, and I’m pretty much Annie’s best friend,” Mina adds.

“I know that being best friends with Annie is impressive, but you do know that you’re only competing with Armin for that spot, right?” Reiner asks. Unlike Mikasa, Reiner is on good terms on Annie or at the very least Reiner doesn’t seem to butt heads with Annie as much as Mikasa does.

“No, we’re just … it’s not official anyway and I wanted to ask her on the perfect holiday date to cement our status as an actual couple,” Armin says. He’s desperate to turn the attention back to his presentation, but it’s difficult with a large group of people with short attention spans.

“Holi-date!” Connie and Sasha shout in unison before bursting out into laughter.

“Look, Annie is special to me and I want to show her that I think she’s special in return,” Armin says. He clicks through a bunch of his introductory slides. They might never make it to the end at this rate, so he should just skip to the most important slides.

Armin skips straight to the slides with a list of Christmas-themed date ideas and stands nervously at the side, his hand bouncing nervously against his thigh. He shifts from side to side and waits for his friends to read the slides.

“These are just a few examples of what I was thinking,” Armin says after an appropriate amount of time has passed. He fiddles with the clicker in his hands and looks down at the floor in front of him instead of his audience. His oral presentation skills have improved since entering university, but they’ve completely evaporated now and he can only stare at the floor and stammer like a new university student introducing himself at orientation and struggling to think of a fun fact.

“That’s more than a few. That’s an extensive list. I bet if you printed it out, it’d be a foot or two in length,” Jean says, and Armin winces.

“I suppose I was a little enthusiastic about putting this list together,” Armin mumbles. He looks desperately at his friends. “Can you please help me decide what I should do with Annie on our first date? Deciding is one thing, but I also have to prepare for it to make sure everything is absolutely perfect.”

“Armin, it’s a really long list,” Historia says.

The slide is filled from top to bottom with text in 8 point font. Armin’s friends have to squint to read the activities listed, and Armin curses himself for not printing out a copy of the slides for everyone like he had initially planned. No wonder this is going horribly.

“How about we all vote for the ones we like and whichever one is the most popular is the one Armin goes with?” Mina suggests.

It’s not the method that Armin would have went with. He would have preferred that people picked the date activity they thought would be the best and have everyone defend their choice in a structured debate, but Mina’s suggestion would probably save a lot more time and frustration.

“Does everyone have pens and paper?” Armin asks, although he thinks he already knows the answer. He and his friends may be university students, but they’re also horribly underprepared when it comes to the spontaneous need for writing tools. He sighs and passes out pens and paper to all his friends.

“In our defense, you told us we didn’t have to bring anything,” Sasha points out, and she’s not wrong. Armin just didn’t expect nearly everyone to come completely empty-handed.

“Sasha and I brought popcorn,” Connie says, holding out a bowl of popcorn that he and Sasha had prepared in the kitchen before the presentation started. He offers some to Armin, who shakes his head, and Connie moves on to offer it to the rest of their friends.

After everyone is done writing down their choices on their papers, Armin reads them all and tallies them up. Somehow, he ends up with even more choices for holiday dates than he had started with, but he probably should have expected it. It would have been too easy if things ran smoothly.

⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Armin waits outside of Annie’s apartment complex, shivering in the cold. The outfit Historia had chosen for him is better than any outfit he’s ever put together himself, but it’s not as warm as the puffy winter coats he typically wears. He huffs on his gloved hands and his hot breath against his freezing hands gives him a little bit of warmth.

Armin had allowed Historia to pick his ensemble today because Jean and Historia had been fighting over what Armin should wear to his first date with Annie. Jean argued that he should be able to pick the outfit as a fashion design major. Historia made the argument that she was consistently the best dressed person in their friend group to which Jean scoffed and said if everyone had as much money as Historia then everyone would be dressed just as nicely. To prevent the squabbling between his friends from growing into a full-blown argument, Armin had quickly suggested that Historia choose his outfit for when he asked out Annie and Jean pick his outfit for the date, and his two friends grudgingly agreed. So far, Armin has found that Historia has great style but doesn’t think very much about the practicality of the outfits she puts together.

“If you were going to wait outside in the cold, you should have worn a thicker coat,” Annie says, her sudden appearance making Armin jump. She raises an eyebrow as she takes in Armin’s wardrobe. “You look … nice.”

“Th-thanks,” Armin manages to respond. He’s not sure if he’s stammering because of his nerves or because of the cold. “I probably should have asked to meet in a café or somewhere warmer.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I don’t really mind the cold,” Annie says. She’s dressed in a knitted sweater and jeans, but she doesn’t seem to be shivering at all. “Did you want to go somewhere?”

“Ye-es,” Armin says, his voice breaking in the middle, and he coughs to clear his throat. “Actually, first I wanted to ask you out.”

“Ask me out?” Annie repeats. She purses her lips, head tilted slightly.

“Well, yes. Because, you know, I like you. A lot. And I want to go out with you,” Armin says. He had told himself he wouldn’t get nervous. After all, he and Annie spend so much time together that they’re practically dating already. Asking her out on an official date shouldn’t be that different, and yet he finds himself speeding through his words as if to get through his embarrassment as quickly as possible. “So I came up with a list of activities we could do together.”

Annie takes the list of holiday date ideas that Armin had printed out. It’s printed on two sheets of paper, front to back, and in 8 point font with half-inch margins. She has to bring the list closer to her face to read it. It’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking as her blue eyes scan the first page.

“They’re just … silly Christmas-themed date ideas, but I think it’d be fun if we could do one together,” Armin hears himself ramble. He doesn’t know if it would be better to just shut up or keep talking, but he decides that he’d rather avoid an awkward silence so he continues to talk. “I had a list and I had my friends vote on them. I thought they would all converge on one particular idea or maybe gravitate towards the same ones, but everyone had a different favorite. And then some people thought it would be a great idea to suggest even more date activities, and I couldn’t just ibgnore them after they’d been suggested -”

“Just one?” Annie asks, looking up from the paper.

Armin blinks. “What?”

“I can only pick one?” Annie asks. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why don’t we just do all of them?”

“All of them?” Armin isn’t sure he’s heard correctly. “You … would you want to do all of them?”

Annie shrugs and glances down at the list again, flipping a page and then turning it to the back. “Well, I normally wouldn’t do a lot of these, but if it’s with you … I think it could be fun.”

Armin can feel his heart begin to flutter in his chest. “I … yeah, we could do all of it. I’d … I’d really love that.”

Annie smiles and raises a hand out for Armin to take. “Well, we’d better get started if we want to finish these anytime soon. You have a lot.”

Armin sees Annie’s hand extended towards him and he takes a moment to marvel at the sight of it before bounding over happily and taking his girlfriend’s hand, excited to begin checking off their Christmas date list together.

#aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhardt #snk #college au #requests #asks #answered #anon #anonymous

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mimilind · 4 months

Text

A Magical Classmate - Part 5

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 3200

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

You have two magical evenings with Drake.

5. Classical Music and Dancing

The first lecture after Christmas, Drake strolled inside very much like the day he first joined your class. A bit late, looking elegant in suit and tie, and paying no attention to the teacher. This time, however, he paid all the more attention to his classmates. Nodding, smiling, giving little waves, and to your increased delight he took his seat next to you.

Sitting beside him, you were reminded of how much you had missed him. Every day of the holidays you had thought about him and even counted the days until uni would start again – highly unusual, for you.

“How was Christmas?” you whispered.

“Dull.”

“Were you in America with your family?”

“I was here in town, not doing much. I learned to bake gingersnaps… and practiced my Swedish. Oh, and I memorized the textbook for the new semester if there is anything you want explained.”

Your chest grew tight. Had he been alone all through Christmas and New Years? Poor him… You wished you had known, then you could have come to visit.

He poked you playfully. “Don’t look like that, it wasn’t too bad. I listened to a lot of music which was fun. I even bought CDs with that loud, noisy junk you guys listen to.”

You couldn’t talk more because of the ongoing lecture – people nearby were frowning at your whispering – but his grateful smile made you feel better. You were glad that Catrine suggested you buy him a present, and even more glad you had chosen something music related.

At lunch, Drake gathered everyone around him. “I have a belated Christmas gift for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” said Catrine.

“I wanted to.” He unfolded a glossy folder with the title ‘The Barber of Seville’. He explained it was an opera by Rossini, and that he had tickets for the entire class to the Sunday performance.

You were thrilled to get an evening in Drake’s company – even if it was together with everyone else. But when Sunday arrived, you became nervous. Opera seemed so fancy; what would you even wear? Should you bring a snack? Probably not popcorn and soda like when going to a movie…

After changing clothes several times and spreading the contents of your wardrobe all over the room, you at last picked your most proper outfit, and brought no snacks.

You arrived at the opera house half an hour early, and found Drake already waiting in the lobby. When you joined him, you decided to be bold. “I have never been to the opera before. Can I sit with you, so you can explain if I don’t understand?”

That was an excuse, of course; you just wanted to be near him.

“Sure.” He didn’t seem to suspect anything.

When everyone had come, you went to your seats together. They were at the third balcony, right in front of the stage. Ascending the stairs, you looked out through the panorama windows and admired the view of the Göta Älv river gleaming pink and orange in the evening sun. A sheen of frost was covering its calm surface.

You entered the narrow balcony and took your seat. When you peeked over the railing you saw how far below the floor was.

“Afraid of heights?” asked Drake amusedly.

You weren’t, but you didn’t mind if he thought so. “Very. You must comfort me!”

“I don’t believe you.” He grabbed your shoulders, jokingly pushing you forward.

You gave an undignified squeak as the sheer drop before you made your belly tingle. “Asshole,” you giggled, though you were secretly pleased with his teasing.

“That’s me,” he acceded unashamedly.

You took hold of his arm, leaning against him. “Now you made me even more afraid.”

“Liar.” But he didn’t push you away.

A sound began; the orchestra was tuning their instruments in the pit below the stage. The murmur of the audience silenced expectantly as everyone took their seats, and then the lights went out and the music began.

Drake whispered in your ear: “This piece is called the overture. It’s an intro to the opera.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered.

His arm was warm under yours and his perfume drifted to you. Did he think you could focus on the music under such circumstances?

But to your surprise your attention was soon caught by the unfolding drama. They sang in Italian, but there was a thin monitor above the stage with the translation. The singing was beautiful, and you found that you cared about Rosina and Count Almaviva. You wanted them to have their happy ever after, despite how stupidly the count went about his wooing.

Drake kept whispering explanations to you, because the storyline was often confusing and not very realistic – though still entertaining – and in doing so he sat so close to you his leg was pressed against yours. You still held his arm and contemplated taking his hand instead, but you were too afraid. What if he pushed you away? Hand-holding was quite something else than just sitting close. He might not be as into you as you hoped… and you didn’t want to risk losing his friendship.

Instead you decided to be content with what you had and enjoy the pleasant evening.

The following weeks, the lectures and labs continued as usual, and as time passed you became more and more convinced you had to do something about your crush on Drake. You couldn’t keep pining like this; it had a bad effect on your studies. And your appetite, and sleep, and mostly everything else, too…

On top of it all, there was talk on your campus about the upcoming spring ball, a very grand prom hosted by the technology university. One of your classmates had a contact who was a student there and could get you tickets.

None of your friends were going; Catrine found it too expensive and Martin didn’t like parties with a dress code. Andreas was not in town that weekend, and Drake seemed unaware of the event.

But you were intrigued. A ball… it sounded luxurious and exotic, like being in a fairy-tale. But in order to go, you needed a date, and the only date you wanted was Drake.

If you asked him, he was sure to suspect why.

After pondering about it through many sleepless nights, you finally decided to ask him after all. A prom meant classical music and classical dancing – you could make it sound like you asked him because he might like it, not because you wanted to go on a date with him.

And if he turned you down, then at least you would know. Then you could forget him, and the way it felt now that would almost be a relief.

Despite your sound reasoning, bringing the subject up the next day made you a nervous, fluttering mess. You could only pray he wouldn’t notice how badly your fingers trembled.

“So, eh, did you hear? There’s this ball coming up at Chalmers, with fancy clothes and music, and waltzes and everything. Right up your alley. Wanna go?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I bet you are good at dancing, and I need a…” You had meant to say ‘date’ but changed the word at the last moment. “Uh, a friend to go with.”

For some reason, being called “friend” always made him look pleased, but he still seemed ambivalent. It took a while until he replied, during which your heart pounded so hard you feared he could hear it, and the trembles in your fingers worsened.

“Sure, why not?”

Nearly staggering with relief, you fought the urge to make a victory dance. “Good. That’s settled then,” you said as calmly as you could.

The day arrived at last. When you went out to the waiting taxi, you for once felt beautiful and attractive. Your outfit was rented for the occasion and fitted you perfectly, like it was made for you.

Drake had asked you to order the taxi, since he – strangely – had no phone. But he said he would pay for it, which was a relief; after buying the ball ticket you were rather broke.

When the car drove up his street, you became nervous, but in a good way. Drake and you were going on a date! Or, not outright a date, but it still felt that way. You fidgeted with the fabric of your fine clothes as your heart beat faster and faster.

You saw him from far away where he stood waiting. He wore a black dress suit with tails again, with a green bowtie and matching pocket square, and he had combed his hair differently. It fell over his forehead in a side parting that suited him much better than his normal slicked back style.

As he entered the car, he looked around curiously as if he had never been in one before, and patted the leather upholstery appreciatively. “Nice.” Then he turned his eyes to you and stopped his motions. “You look great,” he said after a brief pause. It sounded like he had meant to say more.

You felt at a loss for words too. He was so handsome it almost hurt you physically just looking at him.

“You too,” you managed.

Then the taxi started and the intense moment was interrupted by Drake’s excited exclaim: “Wow, look how fast we’re going!”

The driver chuckled. “Fast? This?”

The car was in fact going very slowly, yet Drake seemed mesmerized by the ride, his face glued to the window like an eager retriever.

After a while, he seemed to remember something and managed to tear his gaze away. “This is for you.” He put a small box in your hand.

“For me?” Surprised, you opened the box. There was a bracelet inside, with alternating green and silver beads. “Oh my God…” you breathed, toughing it with awe. “It’s beautiful.”

He pulled up his sleeve, showing an identical one on his wrist. “I wanted us to match tonight. Here, I’ll help put it on.”

As his finger touched your arm, a shiver went through you. The bracelet felt cool against your skin.

“Thank you. I love it!” You probably ought to say that it was too much, and he shouldn’t have, but for once you held your tongue. He wanted you to have this and obviously could afford it. You didn’t want to make him feel bad.

When you arrived not long afterwards, you ascended the stairs to the banquet hall together. Observing the other finely dressed students, you saw Drake was easily the most handsome man there, looking so much like a prince you again wondered whether he was one for real. A prince in exile.

Walking on his side, you felt like royalty too.

On top of the stairs, a photographer offered to take a picture of you together. You were about to say yes but Drake swiftly said: “Nej tack,” in heavily accented Swedish.

As he pulled you away, you gave him a quizzical look.

“We will remember this night without a photograph, I am sure,” he said smoothly.

You nodded. There was no way you would ever forget such a magical evening, and then it had not even begun.

The banquet hall was amazing. Chandeliers spread a mild, warm light over the many tables, decorated with spring flowers and confetti. You found your seats next to each other, with your names written in gold letters on neat cards. Drake pulled out the chair for you before taking his own.

Drake and you were surrounded by technologists, who turned out to be both nice and funny. They didn’t mind speaking English for his sake.

Thanks to them, you were taught the customs of a formal dinner. There were many toasts – to the spring, to women, to men, and other toasts just because – and each time you were supposed to say “skål”, raise your glass, and meet the gaze of first your date, then the person on your other side, and lastly the one opposite to you.

You loved the toasting. Looking deeply into Drake’s large, pale blue eyes gave you flutters each time, and you thought he might be similarly affected. The way his pupils grew slightly wider made you think he actually felt something more than friendship too.

The evening progressed most pleasantly. You ate, one tasty course after the other, sipped sparkling wine and cider, listened to speeches and classical music, and of course talked to Drake a lot. He told you about formal dinners he had attended in his boarding school, and what his favorite foods were, and named all the classical pieces the orchestra played in the background.

He treated you most attentively, politely refilling your glass, and actually standing up when you had to go to the bathroom, and again when you returned so he could pull out your chair. You had never before felt so indulged and cared for.

When the dinner was over, the tables were moved aside to make space for dancing. Drake bowed to you. “May I have this dance?”

You readily accepted, your chest becoming full of butterflies, even more so as he took your hand and led you onto the dance floor. His hand was larger than yours, warm and calloused.

The first dance would be a waltz as was the spring ball custom. You stood facing him, placing one hand on his broad shoulder and the other in his hand. Again feeling his warmth, his scent, meeting his gaze as he held you.

When the music played up he took the lead and elegantly moved you along the circle of pairs, dancing like a professional. His steps were so graceful you at first felt clumsy, despite how much you had practiced at home, but when you began to relax in his arms you soon found his skill helped you. Following his lead, you waltzed in unity, feeling light-footed and uncommonly gracile.

Others were looking at Drake and you with admiration, and no wonder. He was outshining the entire dance floor and it spilled over to you.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?” you asked breathlessly, both from the exertion and his closeness.

“I learned it as a boy. My parents often hosted balls and other social events before the war and I was expected to dance with all the old hags. I didn’t mind the dancing as such, but the stink of Chanel and mothballs nearly became the death of me.” He made a mock suffering grimace.

You frowned in puzzlement. “What war?”

“Did I say war? No, I meant before the… eh, bad times. You know, when uh…”

Even more puzzled, you tried to figure out what bad times those might be. Something financial, maybe, if it had put an end to balls and social events? “The nineties’ recession?” you suggested.

“That’s the one, yeah.” He spun you around a few turns and you had to focus on your steps instead of talking.

But you couldn’t help wondering a little. It felt like he really had meant to say “war”, but if so, what country was he from then? Somewhere in the Middle East? Perhaps his family were oil billionaires from Kuwait or something. Though, with his hair- and eye color he didn’t look very Arab… unless he was adopted?

Either way, his casual comment had managed to increase your curiosity about him even further.

After the waltz finished, more followed. You danced until your feet hurt and you became hot and out of breath.

“Shall we catch some air?” Drake suggested, offering his arm.

You went down to the street outside, joining a small crowd of other tired guests, letting the fresh spring night air cool you off. When Drake removed his suit jacket and vest, you had a hard time taking your eyes off his shapely torso hinting through the shirt he wore underneath. You wished he would button it down, but this time he didn’t.

You drifted closer to him under the guise of moving away from a woman’s cigarette smoke.

“I have had a magical evening so far,” you told him.

“Magical?” He grinned. “Glad you think so. I’m enjoying it too; great food, great music, and it’s been nice to waltz again. Been a while since the last time. Thanks for asking me.”

His smile was irresistible and you returned it. “Thanks for accepting.”

You returned inside and were thrilled when Drake hung his jacket on a chair first. Now when you put your hand on his shoulder in the dance, you could feel the warmth of his skin under the thin fabric. It made your heart throb quickly.

Your dancing improved steadily; you learned from his confident lead. It felt like being in a dream. You were allowed to be in his arms for a whole night… to continuously keep eye-contact. To feel his muscles move under your hand resting on his shoulder, and feel his hand holding yours…

The final songs were slow and romantic. Drake drew you closer until you were practically dancing in a hug. As you leaned your head against his chest, the surreal feeling increased. This was too good to be true.

But soon it would end, and despite everything you still didn’t know how things were between Drake and you. Was this only friendship, or had it become more? He was your prom date and you had danced all evening, but he said himself he had even danced with old hags in his childhood so that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe he just liked the dancing itself and didn’t care who he did it with?

You needed to see him again, just the two of you, but the next ball was a year away. What could you suggest instead?

The music stopped. Time to say something…

At the last moment you had an idea. “You know, now that we tried your kind of entertainment with that opera performance earlier and now a classical banquet and a ball, we ought to try my idea of a night out,” you said lightly, trying to act casual.

He looked amused. “What might that be? A student pub with bad music and getting wasted on cheap drinks?”

Your face grew hot as you were reminded of how you followed him home, drunk as a skunk. “No, but what do you say to fast food for starters, then watching a movie and eating lots of popcorn, and afterwards sharing a few drinks in the park?”

“Together with the rest of the class?”

You looked down, fidgeting with your sleeve. “Or just the two of us? Would be less, uh, crowded…”

He hesitated before replying, and when he did he sounded a bit guilty: “I’ve never seen a movie… it couldn’t hurt, I suppose.”

“What?” You forgot your embarrassment. “You never saw a movie? Not even renting a VHS and watching it at home?”

“My parents were very old-fashioned,” he said uncomfortably, and now it was his turn to avoid your gaze.

“That explains a lot,” you said, thinking about how he always struggled with technical appliances, and didn’t even have a phone or a TV at home.

Not until you were getting into the waiting taxi a while later, did your brain catch his choice of tense. My parents were very old-fashioned. Were. Had they died?

Maybe you could ask him on the next date.

The thought filled you with a new swarm of butterflies. He had accepted! This was not the end; soon you would go on another date! And perhaps after that one, you would finally know what his feelings for you were.

A/N:

In case anyone wonders what the reader’s outfit for the ball was, it’s a bit difficult to say because it depends on the reader's gender and style. But google “spring prom” and check images, and pick the most beautiful dress or suit you find – that’s what you were wearing. :)

Translations: Nej tack = no thanks, skål = cheers

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#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #university setting #fanfiction #fluff #feel good #draco x you #draco malfoy is nice #muggle reader #tom felton #A Magical Classmate #Mimi Lind

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