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brenwritesss · 3 days

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Tru Fru part 5

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: You miss your girlfriend too much, and she's completely whipped for you.

Warnings: smut and language

a/n: the final part of the Tru Fru series!! Have fun!!

It’s been seven months since you and Paige had made your relationship official and life couldn’t be any better. You loved waking up to her beautiful face every morning, going to every one of her home games at UConn, kissing her during the sunset, but most of all your favorite part was being loved by her. She spoiled you as if you were the only girl in her world. Every week followed the same routine: flowers, gifts, date nights, cuddles in bed, and sex. It was almost too good to be true.

However, with the end of the semester approaching, that came with too much homework and studying, and not enough time. Being a STEM major was tough work, especially when all you wanted to do was spend the time you dedicated to your work on your girlfriend instead. What made matters worse was that Paige was away for a game, and the amount of phone calls, texts, and FaceTimes didn’t lessen the miserable feeling of missing her at all. Not to mention, with all the stress you had been having throughout the past week, not having her with you to release that tension and stress was beginning to show.

You were sitting at your desk, so deep into your homework that you almost didn’t notice your phone ringing. You pick it up, Paige’s caller ID flashing across the screen. You couldn’t help the small frown that crept onto your face as you answered. “Hey.”

Paige’s voice that always soothed you came through your speakers. “Hey baby, I’m not interrupting anything right?”

You shook your head as if she was in the room with you. “No you’re not.”

“Ight, chill. You haven’t been responding to my texts all day so I got worried. Everything okay?” You could hear the genuine concern laced in her voice and it tugged at your heart. You didn’t mean to not respond, but with all the work you were doing and missing her, you kept pushing it off, not wanting her to see how much her being away was affecting you.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve been studying all day that I haven’t really been on my phone.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“I miss you,” she paused. “Well, I always miss you so I bet you already knew that.”

You wanted to laugh but knowing that she missed you just as badly as you did made you want to break down. “I miss you too.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked you. In the seven months you had been dating, Paige had instantly learned how to read you, even when she wasn’t near you.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. “Why?”

“Y/n, you’re my girlfriend. You think I can’t tell when you’re lying? Talk to me, princess.” And this was the reason you fell in love with her. How she cared about you was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.

“I just…” you trailed off, debating if you actually wanted to tell her what had you upset. “I’m really stressed out.”

“With finals?” It was like she read your mind. Almost.

“Yeah.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you that you got it in the bag,” she reassures you. “You’re the smartest girl I know. Not to mention the hottest.”

Thank God she wasn’t here to witness the blushing mess you had just turned into. You let out a small, breathless laugh. “Thank you.”

“But seriously, you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself. And I know this because I did the same thing when I was training, so I get it. But it’s not gonna help you," she paused and you could hear her take in a deep breath. "God, I wish I could hold you right now.” It was almost like she said that last part to herself and it made your heart jump.

“Yeah, I wish that too. I know I shouldn’t be doing too much, I just can’t help it. You’re not even here so I’m bored.” And that was when you heard her smug, deep laugh.

“Babe,” she says into the phone. “Don’t boost my ego like that.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me how much you miss me.”

You sigh, only causing her to laugh more. “I miss you. A lot.”

“Yeah?” she asked you and you could just picture that hot smile on her face. “How much?”

“Too much,” you whispered into your phone.

“Don’t lie to me like that.”

“Okay, fine. I hate that I’m feeding your ego like this but I’m miserable without you.” You braced yourself for her reaction to your words.

“There it is,” she says while laughing. “It’s almost like I was expecting that answer.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Fuck off? Hell no. Fuck you? Every damn day for the rest of my fucking life.” You’d be lying if you denied that Paige saying that did things to you.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why? Because it’ll get you all wet?”

“Paige Bueckers, what the fuck is wrong with you?” And you stood by what you said. Paige knew exactly how she was making you feel because she had made you feel it almost every day for the past seven months.

“Answer a question for me baby.” You replied with a soft “hm”, telling her to continue. “Is one of the reasons that you’ve been missing me so much because you’re horny?”

You froze. Damn, she knew you well. “Maybe.”

“I fucking knew it. You’re horny. Babe, I’m making you wet right now aren’t I?” She spoke to you in that hot, soothing voice that just made you melt every time you heard it.

“Talking like that, what do you expect?”

“Send me a picture of that pretty pussy for me real quick. I need to see something,” she ordered. And as she had expected, you did just what she had asked because a few minutes later, you sent her a photo of your pussy, all wet for her. Did it take you a few tries to get the angle right? Yes. Did Paige need to know that? Hell fucking no.

Paige, still on the phone when the photo was sent, sighs heavily through the mic. You just knew she was staring at that picture. A few seconds passed before she sighed again, “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Wait what?” That girl was states away and was not expected back for another three days. What the hell did she mean by that?

“I don’t think your pussy can go three more days without some attention. I’ll be at your place by midnight, love you baby.” And with that, she hangs up on you.

It was in that moment that you knew Paige Bueckers was insanely whipped for you.

So naturally, you did what any other sane, sex-deprived college student who was missing her girlfriend would do and sent her another picture. Only this time, you made sure it was extra wet. Just how she liked it.

Paige ❤️

All wet for me

Better be laid out all pretty for me

Yeah, that did it. If it weren’t for the fact that you knew she would be here soon, you would have jumped in bed and gone to town. But Paige wants you all wet and pretty for her. And who were you to argue?

You felt as if you had lived through a hundred years before you heard a knock on your door. You wasted no time in almost running across your living room to the front door, grabbing the knob, and opening the door to reveal a tall and muscular Paige leaning against the doorframe, hands in her pocket. She lifted her eyes up from the floor and they landed on you, taking in the sight of you in your bra and her shorts. She pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped closer to you. “Told you I’d be here in a few hours.”

Your throat went dry and you suddenly lost the ability to speak. Although, you figured that was only one of many times that would happen tonight. Paige walked in and shut the door behind her, not even waiting another second to wrap her big hands around you. The contact you had missed so much this week was finally back again and it made your heart flutter.

Her arms tightened around your waist, gently picking you up as you wrapped your legs around her waist. “Missed you so much.”

“From those pictures, I could tell,” she says as her hands move to your ass to support you. She kisses your cheek, walking to your room. “I missed you too.”

“Need you right now.” Your words set a fire inside Paige as she practically threw you on your bed, ripping her shorts off you. Her hands roamed all over your body and that was when you believed that your body was created to fit her hands. It just fits so well.

“Fuck baby,” she whispered in your ear. “You have no idea how bad it was on that plane, looking at your pussy and not being able to touch her.”

“Just my pussy?” you asked her in the most innocent way possible with a look that made her shiver against you. You tugged at her shirt, pulling it off her with ease.

She took it from your hands and tossed it to the side. “Every damn part of you.” That was all she said before she devoured your tongue, sucking it in between her lips and creating a slobbery, wet mess between your mouths. You wanted to get her kisses tattooed on you, never forgetting them for the rest of your life.

Her hand brushes up your stomach, palming your breast and that’s when you feel a small surge of pleasure coarse through your body and straight to your core. She brings her mouth toward your right breast, cupping it in her hand as she gently rolls her tongue over your nipple. You moaned at the sudden rupture of heat from her tongue, raking your hands through her hair. She spits on it, licking it all up again. “Only mine to see and suck like this.”

“Mhm,” you breathe out, tightening your grip on her hair. “Only yours.”

She licks a line all the way up from your tits to your jaw, latching her mouth back onto yours. One of her hands steadies herself on the bed while the other grabs your leg and hooks it over her waist. Using that same hand, she rubs it up and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps after each trail. You tighten your leg around her waist which earns you a small moan that you could almost feel deep in the back of your throat.

“Paige baby, please,” you whisper into her mouth. She lets go of your lips, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Need you to fuck me,” you say bluntly. It was almost as if you could hear the low growl coming from her throat as it vibrated through your bones.

Her hand moved from rubbing your thigh to caressing your inner thigh, inching up higher and higher. The way she caressed your thighs perfectly made you whine out for more as she demolished your collarbones and neck. Her fingers moved toward your pretty pussy lips, practically feeling your arousal. She pulled away from your neck and looked down towards her fingers, admiring the sight below her. You whimpered at the feeling of her fingers on you, just teasing you. “Baby please.”

Paige goes back to kissing your neck, nipping at your skin occasionally. “Just relax, gonna get you so wet for me.”

She spends the next few minutes teasing you; circling your clit a few times then applying pressure as she slid her fingers down to your entrance, drawing an invisible circle around it, then dragging her fingers back up to your clit only to repeat the same pattern again. She had you a whimpering mess, grabbing at her back and her hair, lightly pulling at it.

“Fuck, P,” you whined.

“Keep those beautiful words coming,” she says as she finally enters two fingers into your tight hole. You gasp as your grip on her shoulders tightens. You try to clench your legs together but she moves her knee in between them to keep them apart. And of course, knowing Paige, she had to say something about it too. “Don’t even think about it, princess.”

Her fingers thrust in and out and you could hear just how wet you were becoming. And to Paige, that was music to her ears almost as much as your moans were. And God, did you fucking love that sound of her fingers inside your cunt. “Paige, oh my–”

“Just like that,” she said, speeding up her movements which earned her another pornographic moan from you. She nodded at you. “Yeah, just like that.”

“That’s so fucking good, mmm,” you moaned, making direct eye contact with her. You were becoming soaked now and Paige knew that with a few more thrusts of her fingers, you’d be cumming onto her. And although seeing you cum on her fingers was one of her favorite things ever, she needed it to be better. To remind you how she was the only person who could even touch you like this. So she pulled out her fingers which resulted in an almost suctioning sound and stuck them into your mouth. “Taste yourself, pretty girl.”

You wasted no time in licking her fingers clean, even though you were slightly annoyed at the fact that she pulled them out before you could cum. “What are you doing?”

Paige smirked at you. “You tell me how much you miss me, I see your pussy, and I fly all the way over here, and you think I’m not gonna take my time and fuck the shit out of you?”

That’s when you knew you shouldn’t even think about making plans tomorrow. Or the next day after that. And maybe the day after that too. Before you could even say anything, she slides a box out from under your bed and pats your leg. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right back. And I better not see your hands anywhere near your pussy when I get back.” She walks into the bathroom with the box.

You felt as if you couldn’t even function properly with your body almost shaking and feeling as if you were out of breath. You wait a couple minutes, starting to grow impatient trying to wait for Paige. Finally, she emerges from the bathroom, a nice, long, and thick strap attached to her waist. You widened your eyes at the sight of her just as you did every time you saw her wear it. Every time, you always questioned yourself as to whether or not you’d be able to take it. But Paige always made sure you knew that you could take it perfectly every time.

She walks up to you and uses her hands to push your legs farther apart. You quiver underneath her touch. She uses two fingers and slides them between your folds, letting them become coated in your juices. She then pulls her hand away and rubs it on her purple dick. The purple, plastic dick she used to fuck you so many times. Once her fingers transferred your coating onto the strap, she then ran it down your folds like she had just done with her fingers. You felt as if you could cum just from that and you wanted nothing more than to flip Paige onto her back and ride her.

“Tell me how much you missed this,” Paige orders you, aligning it against your entrance. You gasped at the movement and gripped onto the bedsheets.

“I–” you breathe out as she begins pushing it inside you. “Fuck.”

“Keep telling me,” she says, not pushing it in all the way.

“I needed you to–”

Your gasps stop you from talking as she begins to sink into you even more. You gather up your strength to moan out, “fuck me like this so badly.”

Paige finally lets the strap sink deep inside you. Your moans filled the air of your room and Paige watched you in awe. She admired everything about you in this state: the way your eyes lingered on her, the way your knuckles turned white from gripping the bedsheets and the way your back arched from taking it.

Paige began slowly thrusting, putting her hands on either side of your waist to gain more control while she thrusted it inside you. You were a moaning mess at this point and you didn’t know where to put your hands. You continuously moved them from the bedsheets to the pillow under your head, to the headboard.

Paige took your moans as permission to increase her speed. As she moved faster against you, she gripped your hips harder. “Just like that. Taking me like a good girl.”

You could feel yourself getting more slick as she slid inside you every second. And you knew that at any point you were about to cum from her. Paige moved one of her hands from your hip to your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and then bringing her hand back to your hip.

Paige can tell you’re about to cum and that’s when she not only continues to speed up, but begins to thrust a bit harder, hitting the spot that she knew would make you come undone right on her. “Can’t take it anymore,” you whine out just as she begins hitting that spot deep within you earning more loud moans.

“Yes you can baby, you always do,” Paige says as soothing as she could. “Now let me see that pretty pussy cum.”

And that combined with how deep she was hitting was all you needed to release. You cum right onto Paige’s dick as the knot in your stomach breaks. You almost cried out at the sensation. Paige rubbed circles on your hips and helped you ride out your high like she did every time. “Just like that,” she cooed.

You go numb on the mattress, holding your breath as Paige pulls out of you. You spend the next few minutes trying to regain control of your breathing and let your heart beat get back to normal as Paige takes off the strap. You almost could still feel her inside you and she’d never let you forget it.

Finally, you gather the strength to speak, “You felt so good.”

Paige laughs as she slides the box underneath your bed. “You always take it like a princess.”

You laugh as your body is still trying to recover from being completely wrecked just a few minutes ago. Paige climbs into your bed, lying down beside you and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you closer to her. You lay your head on her chest, tracing random shapes on her abs. “I love you,” you whisper to her.

She kisses your head and pulls you as close as she can to her. “I love you too, princess.” You’re a smiling mess as you lie with her and enjoy the feeling of being in her arms. That is, until she speaks up, “So, you got any Tru Fru in the freezer?”

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #wcbb #paige bueckers x oc #uconn huskies #wlw smut #wlw #wlw post

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sistertotheknowitall · 2 days

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DCxDP Prompt

Because I couldn’t get Congratulations! It’s Triplets! By @rboooks out of my head.

—

Jason wouldn’t say he regret it. Sure it wasn’t what he planned nor was it what he would have wanted, but he didn’t regret it. They didn’t mean to become parents, it was a one night stand. He wondered if this was how Roy felt when Jade had Lian. Like the world had been flipped on its head. Like everything he thought he knew now seemed wrong.

Lian would like his daughter. From what Jason could tell he thought they’d be fast friends.

Christ. His daughter.

He watched as she ran through the front door, her mom following behind. She was talking a mile a minute, her hands flying around her face. Her mom threw her head back, laughing. God he wished he could hear it. Hear what all his daughter had to say. He wanted to be a real dad to her not just a father. Someone she could talk to and trust. However, as Jason continued to watch from the roof across the street, he knew that he could never get that close. This was as far as he could reach.

A crime lord, who was legally dead and had a kill count. He wasn’t cut out to be a dad. The two examples he had wouldn’t exactly be considered great role models.

Her mother had named her Ellie, short for Daniella after her late uncle Daniel or “Danny.” She was feisty and a little brash, his daughter. Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some pride in knowing some of that was him. Although he could see the same stubbornness in Jazmine.

He thinks that’s what drew him to her. Standing in a bar on a side of town she definitely shouldn’t have been in, she had held her own against two men trying to drag her out. Jason went to step in when she had pulled a police grade taser out and had both men on their knees in pain before he moved two steps. He didn’t introduce himself that night (she was a little preoccupied with the police). However, he got the chance to a few months later and one thing led to another and they had slept together. He left with barely a goodbye and they never saw each other again. Jason was too preoccupied with his plans for Bruce and the clown to spend time thinking about one night.

As for her, he knew she was a student at Gotham U and figured she had also spent little time thinking about that night.

Imagine his surprise when he stumbled upon her again but with a child. His child.

He didn’t know how to really feel about it, about her, Ellie.

As much as he hates to admit it he spent the first week getting drunk and despairing at being a deadbeat. He eventually calmed down and reasoned that it wasn’t his fault nor Jazmine’s. He had given her a fake first name and they hadn’t exchanged last names. Even if she did want to tell him she was pregnant she had no way of finding him.

And he never thought he needed to be looking for them.

—-

Jazz could feel them being watched and did her best to act normal. She never gave away that she was aware of him. She didn’t want to frighten Ellie and she was still unsure of how to handle the situation. It has been weeks and he never once seemed interested in harming them. Yet.

He just watched. Not all the time- not every day, but at least once a week she could feel him staring from a roof, a window, the mouth of an ally. He followed them at night and watched for a bit after they returned home. In a way it felt like he was protecting them, but in what sense did this hulking figure have a right to guard them? It also begged the question; what was he protecting them from?

Jazz was near positive that she had never interacted with the mask figure nor any other that roamed Gotham. She did her best to avoid them, all of them.

It could be he was fixated on her as a single mother to a reckless little girl. If that was so, then she was going to have to be more cautious. She didn’t want to even give him a chance to think he could approach Ellie. Stalkers were never a good thing but she knew the GCPD would never take it seriously.

All he was doing was watching.

Jazz knew her daughter was smart beyond her five years of life, but she was still just a child. So while Jazz was certain that Ellie had no idea about their predicament, she knew Ellie could feel something was off. The young girl had started to look around more on their walks home, her head swiveling, looking for something she couldn’t explain. Jazz hated it. Her daughter should be skipping as she told Jazz about her day in pre-school, not gripping her mother’s pant leg, silent as she looked for the source of her unease.

For the life of her, Jazz did not know what the man could possibly want and while it pissed her off to no end it also frightened her. Of course it frightened her. She was a single mother in Gotham City with a stalker. Maybe she should summon Danny or send Ellie to her grandparents for a bit while she takes care of this.

#is ellie really his in this AU? or is this another de-aging dimension switching AU?#the choice is mine #but feel free to also have your own thoughts #dpxdc #dp dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dp prompt #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc

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koolades-world · 3 days

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So, request for the Obey me boys (main and side). When I'm emotionally stressed or overwhelmed, I get the urge to clean (especially if my space has been needing it). So, how would they react to an MC spontaniously cleaning anything and everything in that sort of state (Dishes, Floors, surfaces, their own room, etc)?

hi! sure thing!

i relate to this on such a deep level. it's when i get my best cleaning done LOL. having a crisis? suddenly the room is the best it's looked in months

posting this instead of spellbound because getting my car took much longer than I expected. spellbound will be tomorrow for sure :)

enjoy <3

Mc who spontaneously cleans

Lucifer

he may just have to marry you on the spot

his brothers aren’t exactly the cleanest bunch and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one making an effort

he might cry if he comes downstairs one morning and the kitchen is sparkling

Mammon

if he’s not the messiest bitch ever… no shade but there’s no way his room doesn’t look like it was hit by a tornado

however if he ever sees you cleaning he'll try his best to help

he will also try his best to keep things tidy to make it less work for you <3

Levi

I can’t explain it but something about him screams neat freak to me

but, this only applies to his spaces because it would be too much work

he applauded your efforts because more than once he’s cracked and just deep cleaned everything haha

Satan

he’s clean when he wants to be

and most of the time, he is. the only times he isn’t is to piss off lucifer even though he’s just going to drag him back to do it anyways

after seeing how hard you work, he never does that again haha. he would hate for you to have to pick up after him

Asmo

somehow clean but messy at the same time

he won't stop you if you want to go to town cleaning up his makeup pallets and what not

afterwards though he makes sure to treat you <3

Beel

definitely the guy that takes three plus showers a day lol

he always asks you to make sure he's picking up after himself though just in case

he appreciates you and everything you do :)

Belphie

if you think he's tidy, i am so sorry you are wrong haha

will complain about an area being dirty and then proceed to ask why you were cleaning it up

however he will thank you every time he notices you've tidied up :)

Diavolo

despite the fact that he has a whole team that cleans for him, he hates to leave behind a mess

so, he always insists you get him when you get the urge to clean

everything is better when you have someone by your side! besides, he'll take any excuse to be by your side

Barbatos

you know him, he’s incredibly tidy to the point that it’s almost impossible to find a mess in the demon lord’s palace

but in the rare cause you’ve beat him to it, he’s grateful since it’s rare he gets help

afterward, you’ll be having tea together, his treat

Simeon

he also seems like his things are always clean no matter what

it's almost like he's magic at the rate at which messes vanish

he will feel bad if he sees you cleaning, and will take over

Luke

both of his dads (simebarb sorry for kinda sneaking this narrative in here lol) are both neat people, so it only makes sense for him to be too

after all, he wants to be just like them!

if he catches you cleaning, he will instantly join in

Solomon

he seems like he would live realistically, not too dirty, but also not too clean

if things are a little cluttered, he's alright with it because it looks lived in

if you do spontaneously clean, he'll try his best to make it up to you with his cooking!!

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fairytsuk1 · 3 days

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four seasons | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

prompt: meeting at a holiday resort, both with friends or family tagging along

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

words: 5.4k

warnings: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, spin the bottle, marijuana mentioned, alcohol, drunk sex, begging

It's everything you thought it'd be and more. The sun shines on you in a bright gleam that warms your skin. Your plans had finally made it out of the group chat! This was going to be the best vacation ever. Your sandals slap against the concrete as you trod to your friends with your luggage.

"Hey! Can you guys believe this? It's so beautiful!"

Ayami beams, her short hair bouncing as she nods eagerly, "I can already feel myself re-energizing! All this nature and ocean—oh, it's going to be wonderful!"

Ryoka's hand slips around her girlfriend's waist with a relaxed smile. "Hell yeah. We should go ahead and check-in."

"Already done! No need to thank me," Natsumi brags as she flings the dark oak door open, "had to do it since you guys were taking your sweet time getting out of the car!"

Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. You must've done something heroic in your past life, maybe saving a war-torn city, to have this warm feeling fluttering in your chest. The resort is made better with your friend's banter and complimentary slippers that sink into plush carpet.

An attendant explains things in a blur, yet your eyes are locked onto the glittering ripples of water that peek through a window. The pool is on the first floor, she says. And don't forget to ____, you ignore. Soon enough, all four of you are dashing to claim a spot on white resin lounge chairs. It feels like a dream when your manicured toes glisten under the hot summer air. It becomes more like a fairy tale when your wandering eyes land on something interesting.

He's hot. Scratch that; he's more than hot! Lecherous eyes start at sopping blonde hair pushed back by muscled biceps and veiny forearms. The way the water rolls down his back is absolutely sinful. Even his abs flex as he cockily smirks, pushing back against his red-headed friend during their game of roughhousing.

Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he looks like he fucks, which is the perfect maraschino cherry on top. You could bite into him, and it'd be sugary sweet as the sticky juice runs red down your jugular. Yeah, you could eat him alive and he'd love it. Confidence thrums through you, and you know your time is now. At the same time, he stands casually in the water, merely observing and completely unaware.

You slip in effortlessly and unnoticed, lurking like a shark behind him as you plan your words before making yourself known.

"Hey," you chirp, hands wading in the water.

You expect him to turn to you with a sly smile; maybe he'd grow close and lean on the pool edge as he asked for your name and whether you were single. Only he didn't do any of that. His eyes scan you like you're a drab beige wall, and then he has the nerve to shrug you off.

"Hey."

It's awkward. It's tense. It's very unexpected.

"What's your–"

"I don't need a drink right now," he dismisses with a casual wave.

It actually stuns you into silence. Your mouth drops open and then closes, and then opens again, "I-I'm not a worker! Do workers wear bikinis where you're from?"

The man sneers at your reaction and finally turns to face you. He's taller, broader, and you wish he wasn't so fine because he was turning out to be such a dick. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders to stare frustratedly into his eyes.

"No, but I don't bother paying attention to extras when I'm trying to relax," and lewd eyes dip down to your cleavage, "but maybe I can spare you some time."

"An extra!? Oh, fuck you!"

It comes out harshly, and your bottom lip droops as you stare at him: "I just came by to introduce myself, but never mind. I'm leaving."

"Then introduce yourself, or did I scare ya' off?"

You've never met a man so bold. A man with the audacity to call you an extra and still so obviously commit your curves to memory. Introductions come out in a stutter from you with warm cheeks, "and what's your name, so I can report your behavior with the front desk."

"It's Bakugou," he grunts. "Be my guest."

"I will," you challenge.

"How about I report you for harassment, hah?"

"You insulted me first!"

Bakugou shrugs with a smirk. It irritates you beyond belief to see his smug little face. The sun burns too bright and hot on you two, firing you up and encouraging you to storm out of the pool. Bakugou takes the opportunity to leer at your ass as you crawl out the side, wet swim skirt sticking to your curves and making him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Damn," he grunts as you prissily walk off.

Perhaps he judged you too harshly. But then he thought about it, and you just seemed like a spoiled brat. A pretty one but a brat nonetheless. He didn't take things like that. He reassures himself under his breath, but his thoughts know what he's really thinking about: sliding those wet bikini bottoms off you and spreading your legs. It would be all for him, too. You did approach him first.

You, however, collect your things in a huff. Your move to the other end of the pool may have been petty, but you don't care. Things had to be thought through. Was it worth actually pursuing this sexy asshole guy? As you type a pro-con list into your phone, Ryoka pats your shoulder, "Are you planning on missing the game for your phone?"

The exercise will do you some good. After squeezing your friend's hand and promising to return after you change, you opt to release your frustrations on a good game of volleyball.

After a bit, it's even hotter and you've only gotten sexier. It's important to note as Bakugou stares at you from the sidelines. Sure, you were prissy, but your body was killer, and the snarl escaping you every time you spiked the ball sent wrecking balls of fantasy into his mind. You were a spitfire, and Bakugou tries to swallow the flush when you look at him in an intense adrenaline haze.

A block. A quick run to the side for a spike. Light cheering. This was the sweet escape you needed, giving you just enough space to let out your blood thirst. If you had fangs, then you'd be chomping at everyone's face! You were in the groove. Your eyes pass over him easily. And then you meet again.

Parted, pink lips with beads of sweat on your upper lip. Your hair falls messily, framing your face with sticky strands as your dark eyes pierce Bakugou's. For a minute, neither of you seems to exist in this reality. You both stay in this limbo for a second longer than you should before your head snaps forward to bump an incoming ball. Bakugou’s frozen to the core with genuine butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't even think this has ever happened to him before, or even that it ever would.

A whistle is blown, and you’re cheering with your team. It always felt good to win. It was even better when you knew you had eyes on you.

"Good game, good game! Yeah, you did amazing, Ayami…" You towel off as you relish in the glow of your success. It wasn't all due to you, but you were being a bit of a try-hard.

You don't even notice how Bakugou makes his way through the crowd. How his lips curl into a frown as someone bumps into him, and how he taps your shoulder with a gruff, "Hey."

Your head turns with hair that cracks like a whip. Obviously, you recognize him immediately. You're not happy.

"Hey," you mutter, toweling off and ready to escape. "Nice seeing you."

"Wait a minute," Bakugou's hand curls around your wrist, and you're so irritated to feel heat rush through you at seeing the sinewy muscle move. "Lemme talk to you."

"I gotta get in the shower. So, no."

"You're being stubborn. I'm sorry for earlier," he huffs with eyes that lack the confidence to look straight at you. "Let me buy you a soda or somethin'."

"What makes you think I want a soda from you, an extra?"

He almost wants to shout in your face, but he knows there's no way around that. Bakugou mumbles about not meaning it while kicking at the ground, and your posture stays stiff. It happens so quickly you almost miss it, but you catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.

"What's so funny?! You're a real jerk, laughing and everything when you insulted me and–"

"You're all defensive at being called an extra. It's cute."

"I have a name," you nearly stomp your foot in exasperation despite the flush crawling up your skin.

"I forgot. You stuttered it out last time," he provokes calmly with a tilt of his head. Really, he just wants to hear that pretty name on your lips again.

You try to tell yourself that there's no time to think about the compliment that flies and waves in the air like a kite. You introduce yourself calmly, emphasizing the syllables and ensuring he gets it.

Bakugou repeats your name so slowly. So pointedly, velvety tongue and eyes narrowing. You could imagine him whispering it into your neck as strong hips hump to meet yours. Maybe in the morning, with a kiss on the cheek and the taste of coffee on your tongue. He puts so much care into repeating your name that you almost cave when he asks if you want to get smoothies together.

You're a strong, independent woman. That and, well, his pissed-off face was sexy. Your glossy lips smirk at him as you cock your hip, "Sorry, I'm getting drinks with friends. I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"

"...Alright, yeah."

The way you ditch him in the dust leaves him half-chubbed in his shorts. God, you were such a cock tease. If only he could kiss you and show you what you're missing out on by playing cat and mouse. Thick fingers adjust his shorts, and Bakugou pushes his hair back, opting to turn back to his friends indulging in flower necklaces and drunk karaoke.

If you wanted to be the mouse, he had no problem being the cat.

Everything's clear-headed and far too boring and bright. Within time and the coaxing with your friends; you're grinning ear to ear after too many puffs of a joint and sips of cocktails. Things tilt around you, and the music sounds irresistible as you feel the rhythm lend you dance moves. Everything feels like ecstasy as you twirl in circles with your crew. The alcohol was flowing, and you were starting to have that craving for closeness as things ramped up and up.

Natsumi practically topples you over as she blushes into your face. "Come with me. I made some friends."

“Friends? What kinda friends?”

"Don’t ask, just go. Come on, you have to! They’re cool, you really gotta meet 'em," your friend pleads as you give her a reluctant look.

"Well, okay…"

Natsumi hiccups as she escorts you a few tables over. She giggles about someone being your type, and there's a real worry that the alcohol is clouding her mind, and you’re about to have to reject a loser.

"Hey, Natsumi! I was wondering where you went!"

A yellow-toned boy speaks up, face flushed as he waves a sloppy hand from where he rests on a beachy pull-out. Next to him, Bakugou nurses a rum and coke, eyes red and cast downward towards the ground. They lazily crawl a path up to your eyes, a bit woozy but flickering with recognition.

No fucking way. Of course, he's here, and of course, he looks fantastic! You know your dress looks immaculate. There was no denying that, but Bakugou left your mouth embarrassingly dry. His white button-up was nice, but it was more about what it revealed; tanned skin and the promise of more the further you looked. As you looked down at his body, Bakugou looked up at yours.

As you sit down, you can't help but open your mouth, "What are you doing here?"

"My friends dragged me out, I could be sleeping by now."

You find yourself letting out a small laugh and turning toward him with interest. He really wasn't so bad.

“You sleep early?”

“You don’t?”

Amid it all, Bakugou and you end up squished together as the budding love story of your two friends blossoms. Every time their heated make out spills into limbs crossing over into your bubble, you grunt in frustration, inevitably scooting closer to your frenemy with a slight sway.

"She is so ridiculous," you comment on Natsumi with a slight huff. "So is your friend, by the way."

"Maybe they're made for each other," he snorts.

A beat of silence passes by as you both observe each-other. It was really more like admiring, though.

"Why're you so standoffish? I said I was sorry, called you pretty, ‘nd you don't wanna give me another chance?"

He grumbles when he says it but looks curious as his teeth sink into his lip for a split second. You almost get lost in the motion as you unconsciously lean closer like a moth to a flame.

"I didn't peg you as someone who begged."

"Sometimes you make mistakes, hm? And I'm not begging, babe, trust me."

The conversation dies, but the tension grows larger. The way his voice dropped made your thighs squeeze together. Blood flowed south as Bakugou traced over your red lips and briefly down to your cleavage–nice, he smirked.

"Well, whatever," you pray the sip of your lychee martini gives you a long enough reprieve to think of how to coyly flirt back. "What are you doing here anyway? Vacationing? Dying of an illness and this is your last hoorah?"

"Just relaxing. What're you doing besides bein' a brat. Spending daddy's money?"

"I paid for this trip myself, actually!"

"I like a smart woman," he says, moving to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek. He pulls away just as fast, and you can smell the breeze of his icy cologne. "I paid for myself, too. Can't rely on anyone or anything!"

You see the mask slip just a second. The calm persona dropped to reveal his boyish grin and messy hair.

"Yeah, you really can't."

It was so terrible that you knew deep down he was cute. You couldn't pretend at all. Now that you're starting to know him, you're falling head first into really liking him. You weren't sure if your girls' trip vacation could withstand a passionate, whirlwind romance.

"Oh my god, you know what would be totally fucking fun right now? What if we played a game? You guys know spin the bottle! C'mon," Natsumi beams excitedly.

"I haven't done that since I was still smoking cigarettes!" Ryoka shakes her head with a laugh.

"But, come on," she gives you all a pleading look. "If we haven't done it in forever, wouldn't it be fun to do it one last time?"

Natsumi's heartfelt yet drunken rambles strike a chord within all of you. You glance at Bakugou, who doesn't reply, only shrugging in acquiescence to the group. To hell with it, you call, raising your drink in the air.

"You know what, let's go for it! You're right, Natsumi."

Bakugou eyes you curiously as you stand to hug your friend with a slight wobble in your step. You had a point. To hell with it!

Moments later, you all were knee-rubbing, stumbling idiots sitting in a circle. The more you admire Bakugou as you sit across from him, the more you're hoping the stars align with the spin of the bottle. The kiss would be innocent. Fun and games. It meant nothing. That's what you told yourself to repent for your future sins.

A bead of sweat glides down the back of your neck as the glass goes round and round. You watch as Natsumi eagerly kisses a flushed Kaminari, who is all too eager to receive it. Ryoka and Ayami are familiar but sweet. Kirishima lands a peck on you, but it's nothing crazy.

You miss the way Bakugou's eyes glitter with disappointment every time the green bottle spun past him mockingly, taunting him deviously with the promise of vodka-tinged kisses. Only then do you both find a line drawn between point A, you, and point B, him.

"Finally," Ryoka slurs out.

Suddenly, you're nervous. You're nervous as you sit up a bit more and scoot closer over the bottle containing the will of fate. He looks calm and relaxed, his eyelids lowered just enough to make him look… wanting. Knees graze the carpet as you inch closer until you both can feel each other's breath.

The music is still bumping. The alcohol is still flowing, yet you're stuck in this standstill with nothing to break you out of your reverie. Other than the kiss that's planted on your lips, Bakugou tastes like rum and mint gum. You wonder if you taste like lychee, or maybe you'll mix into an entirely new flavor that leaves you both with incessant cravings.

You're unsure when or who pulls away first, but it happens. Your butt plops down right as the round of giggles surrounds you. Bakugou smirked as he sat back, crossing his legs and taking a smug swig of his drink. It was unfair that you were left dazed; he was the reason for it all.

You okay? He mouths over the talking that's come instead of the next bottle spin.

Are you? You ask with a smirk, flipping your hair in jest.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a full-on grin. You feel something fond bloom in your chest. Something that makes the sound of ringing bells when you see that flash of teeth and a glimpse of a slick tongue. Someone suggests dancing, and pairs of legs come into view as they stumble out as a crew, a unit. There are two missing cogs. You both stay sitting and facing each other.

"I thought you said you were okay," he jokes as he scoots closer.

You realize you have a tendency to mimic him, "I am. You're the one who didn't even try to pretend to follow."

"I don't pretend anything, pretty. I do and say what I mean."

There's a beat of silence, and your clit throbs at the tone of his voice.

"You know what I mean?"

His voice is deep, almost mocking, as he croons at you. You're going to fuck. It might be now, on the last day of your resort, but it would happen. Set in stone, if you will.

"I think I do."

"Mhm. Let's go dance, gotta show you what a real dancer looks like."

Bakugou offers a firm hand and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. It makes you feel tiny, and you wonder if the same effect will happen as you sway your hips against his dick.

You find yourself dancing to Nelly, and hearing lulls about being a promiscuous girl. It makes satisfaction thrum in your chest at having success in your findings. Grinding did, indeed, produce the same effect. Bakugou was trying to dominate your form, and you let it happen.

Bit by bit, you find yourself caring less about the group and becoming more preoccupied with Bakugou. You let him buy you drinks, giggling as your hands jokingly interlace before you pull away coyly. He only smirks at you, chasing you wherever you go, as if he didn't want you to forget him in your intoxicated parade.

He tells you to call him Katsuki when you slur his last name out, gripping the white button as you pout tiredly, "I want to go back to my room."

"Since when am I your keeper, huh?"

Katsuki lays a steady hand on the curve of your waist and lets you fall into him.

"Don't be mean, we bonded sooo much. I thought you were this asshole guy, but you're actually kinda funny and sexy."

"I think I knew that last part. Remember when you tried this on me before?"

"Are you dumb enough to still reject me?"

"Nah, not this time," he says, making sure to drink in your gaze as he does.

Thankfully, you'd already had your first kiss. That made it easier for him to lean forward and press his lips against yours. The promise of something more, and you practically purred as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki's hands skirt down your back, down to your hips, and pull you so close, "You're sexy, too."

A bartender squawks at your behavior, and his voice floats over the music and sticky kisses to yell for you to get a room! The man at your side noses your neck and then juts forward.

"Come to my room," and he's so gruff. Like he knows you want this, "Wanna get you alone and see how feisty you are then."

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, your friends would be fine; your eyes flit between him and the crowd dancing behind him. Yeah, they'd be alright. Your hand slips into his, and he's quick to tug you next to him by your waist. He makes you unsteady and chuckles, "Let's get goin', then."

Neither of you is composed as you tumble through Katsuki's–clearly luxurious–room onto his plush bed. He's not afraid to lift you with his raw strength and place you right where he wants you. It makes you laugh, tinged with shyness, as his red predatory eyes sweep over you before settling on your face.

It's silent as both eyes hold this deep, wanting gaze. He crawls closer, and you lay back further; he's on top of you with a forearm dipping into the mattress and a veiny hand supporting his weight. Katsuki doesn't touch you as if he's waiting for something. You can't wait anymore, and you're ungracefully yanking him closer till his body weight rests on you, and you can feel his hardness poking at your thigh.

He must have been waiting on you–the bastard! But you can't deny that feeling the rippling strength resting on your body and pressing you into the mattress feels good. You and Katsuki exchange saccharine kisses as your bodies grind together like you're one. He grits his teeth and takes a sharp inhale when your wandering hand brushes against his bulge, "don't, fuck, don't do that."

"Why? Sensitive?"

Katsuki's vermilion eyes meet yours and narrow, "you're such a tease, you know?"

His voice is low and honeyed as he slowly peels your skirt from your thick thighs.

"All I did was ignore you the first time–"

"And then I did the second!"

Seemingly having had enough of your quips, a hush falls over you when his hand swats at your thigh, "Yeah, and you're still under me, begging for my cock. Ironic, right?"

He then snickers when sticky strings stretch from your slick pussy to the cotton underwear.

"She's beggin' too."

In a flash, he's lapping at your folds and groaning at how sweet you taste.

"Oh! Oh my god, w-wait!"

“Nuh-uh, no waiting.”

He's so messy with it. His chiseled nose bumps against your clit with every lap as he mixes spit with your leaking arousal; it's so debauched, and yet you're wailing for more as you try to push his face further between your thighs. Katsuki groans and your eyes meet right when he suckles your clit with his plush, rosy lips.

"Y-Your mouth's so good, ohfuck!"

Katsuki lets out a pleased hum before wrangling your squirming hips under a flexing forearm, "don' move too much. Wanna enjoy this, babe."

His right hand comes up to toy with your soaked hole. His teeth are sharp, and he's downright predatory in how he sinks two fingers into you. They're thicker than yours; a keening whimper escapes you.

"C'mon, tell me how it feels. Since you've been dyin' for it, I want a review, baby."

There's a wet clicking sound as fingers crook against that deliciously torturous spot, leaving stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Gonna cum! Wanna cum, ‘mygod, ‘tsukiii!”

"Already? Such a needy girl," and he latches his tongue to your puffy clit, massaging it as your pleasure uncoils into a white-hot explosion.

Somewhere in the haze, you can hear Katsuki murmuring, "Good girl, good girl," and leaving sharp kisses on your inner thighs. He chuckles at how you jump, how cute, and sighs into your neck before biting your pulse point.

"Holy fuck," you mumble, hands wringing into his shirt as he peels off his shirt and makes his way up yours.

"You alright? Looked like things were good," and he has the nerve to snicker at you. "It's okay to admit it."

"You're such a cocky bastard. When are you gonna fuck me?"

Katsuki's hands are practically already in his pants as he unbuckles his belt. He shoves his jeans down, and your eyes widen at how big he looks, the fat head leaving a dark patch of pre-cum against his gray boxers. You're coming closer as he tugs off his underwear, leaving him exposed. His cock bobs, smearing on his navel, while a throaty groan escapes his lips once you wrap a soft hand around him. He's so hot and weighty in your hand that you can feel how he practically pulses in your hand; you can't help but want to go in for a little taste…

He's gentle as thick fingers press back on the crown of your head, a tut escaping his lips as he shakes his head, "No way. I'll cum way too fast, wanna give it to you good."

The scratchiness of his voice leaves your thighs pressing together. Katsuki kisses you before motioning for you to settle on your hands and knees.

"Like this?"

You're practically mewling at him! Your back arches so tauntingly, cute butt perked up in the air and swaying back and forth. Katsuki draws close, and your eyelids are fluttering when his fat head bumps against your soaked folds, "ohfuck, stop admiring me already."

"And here I thought you wanted it all nice and sweet," and you're whimpering as the head barely breaches past your pussy. "But, I'll give it to ya' how you like it."

With that, his hands are smoothing over the curve of your back as his heavy balls press against your pussy clit. You're already caving for him, with eyes threatening to roll towards the ceiling as his hips stick to yours. He's so full inside you that you can barely move, barely breathe, only able to leak around him as he grunts, "so fuckin' tight. 'S like you're a virgin."

"Katsukiii. Fuck, pleasepleaseplease move!"

He hums thoughtfully, hips rocking just the slightest inside your gummy walls.

"Ask me again," and he punctures it with a thrust that leaves you breathless.

"Please, wanna feel you fuck me. I-I've been waiting for your annoying ass, I wanna cum so bad…"

The man behind you doesn't seem convinced, though his hips move just a tad faster. " C'mon. I know you can do it. What is it you want again?"

He's pushing you to your breaking point. Katsuki's strong enough that he can press forward and bend you further into that delicious arch, nearly fucking you into the mattress if he would just move!

"Oh god, fuck me. Need to feel you take control, Katsuki, I-I can't! I need you, need you so bad, 'm gonna cry. I jus' wanna feel you breed me, please!?"

"Was that so hard?"

Within seconds, he's hunkering down and fucking you within an inch of your life. Your hands desperately cling to the duvet as if that'll ground you, but he's moving too hard and fast!

"S-So deep, ohshit!"

"Ngh, yeah? You're fucking grippin' me, I love how you sound, how you taste, how you feel–fuuuuck. Let me have it, baby."

You're wailing as you gush around him. The smell of sex is overpowering, and your panting breaths mingle with Katsuki's. You can't help but push back just a bit, the two of you joined together so intimately. His muscles ripple with every rock into your cunt. You wish you could see how debauched he looks–though your ears are privy to the hot groans and curses flying out of him as he slides home over and over and over again.

Katsuki loses himself in your pussy, head tipping back to expose the expanse of his throat as his balls tighten with his orgasm. God, fuck, did you say to breed you? He tries to recover as he watches your sneaky hand desperately rub you till you're trying to run from his thrusts (to which he only tuts and brings you back full force towards him). The slick, papping sounds echo, and you're not even sure what you're saying as you wail for him.

"Oh, 'm gonna cum all over you. Ohfuckfuckfuck, wait! I-I'm gonna, Katsuki!"

"Yeah? Cum all over this dick, let me feel it. Fuck, 'm gonna cum too, gonna fill you up."

Your wrist twists another tight circle, and you're falling apart. Your thighs shake and tight walls squeeze Katsuki, trying to draw him as deep as possible as he hits your g-spot dead on. A cry escapes you, and you know his base is creamy from your orgasm. In the haze, you can tell he's close by how his fingers twitch around your hips; you start mewling weakly for him, "cum inside me. Ohmygod!!”

He's sure he's leaving bruises, and yet he doesn't even care as he shoots rope after rope inside you. God, your pussy sucks him in like it wants every drop; despite the sensitivity, Katsuki can't help but keep moving till you're whining from overstimulation. Pulling out slowly and giving your thigh a playful swat, the two of you practically collapse into the soft sheets.

Katsuki's hand quickly grabs your chin and pulls you to face him. " Are you good?"

With your hair mussed and bruises littering your body, you were more than good. A soft nod, and then you're scooting closer for warmth. Katsuki lets it happen to your joy, a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hoists you close.

"Good, you gonna run off of me, now?"

"No. Are you?"

"It's my room, you stalker," he teases with a toothy grin. His features are relaxed, and his red eyes are a bit glazed.

He looks wonderful. Beautiful, even.

—

You review your mental checklist one last time as you pace about your room, door open. How could it have all ended so soon? You'd spent the rest of your days happily fucking, drinking, and soaking in the luxuries of the resort.

Katsuki lingers by the doorway. A flicker of fondness grows into a fire when you turn to see him and smile. When did he get so soft?

"Hey! What's up?"

"What's up? It's your last day, and you're what's upping me."

"Katsukiii," you drag out the syllables and catch the faintest smirk on his lips. "Don't get too sad while I'm gone."

"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you making eye contact that holds longer than it should.

The two of you shouldn't be so dramatic; you should try to steel yourself. It's not like you've known each other for that long, Katsuki thinks before reaching out and pulling you into a loose hug.

"See ya," he grumbles.

"Hehe, text me! Call me whenever," you mumble into the muscle of his chest.

He smells like the start of a campfire, mixed with a cool cologne that wafts like the breeze of a nearby ocean. You pull away and look into the tides of his eyes, the Red Sea staring back at you, before he gently kisses your lips.

"I'll think about it. For now, I'll walk you out," and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist.

There was no other option; he was walking you out. You squawk at his comment, "That is not an 'I'll think about it' statement!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, lemme think on it."

"Stop it!"

159 notes · View notes

m0nnypie · 2 days

Text

DATING DEKU (BUT BEING KATSUKI'S SISTER)

Warnings: just Deku being fool for reader, 'n Katsuki being a jealous brother.

synopsis: You're dating this cute green-haired boy, but you're related to that stressed-out blonde bitch 💔

- Well, it's obvious that you've known each other since you were kids. And according to both parents, you've shown that you liked each other since you were young (Katsuki says that's stupid)

- Because you were a year younger, you didn't go to U.A. with them. But that doesn't mean you didn't spend time with Deku.

- To be honest, Katsuki did everything he could to keep you away from Deku. Saying things like "he's a loser, and we're amazing" and "you're my sister, you shouldn't hang out with a nerd like him". But it's not like you listened to the blonde. Since you didn't want the blonde bothering you, you continued hanging out with him, even in public.

- But that stopped after Katsuki simply called his friends to beat up the green-haired one. You literally stopped talking to the blonde for a whole month, and that worried your parents, because besides affecting Katsuki, they could hear you crying every night, saying how stupid Katsuki was. In the end, you guys resolved it after he promised he wouldn't bother Deku anymore. Not that he kept his promise.

- After what happened, you started sneaking out with Deku. Whether it was going to his house, or going to play somewhere, when you knew Katsuki was going to train. And it's obvious that he never told you about Katsuki. That's why, the day he arrived all hurt, you almost had a fit.

"WHO HURT YOU?"

Sometimes he forgot that you were capable of screaming as loud as Katsuki.

"I-it was nothing!"

"NOTHING? DEKU YOU'RE ALL HURT!!"

He simply held your hand and smiled.

"It's okay! No need to worry! I already told you."

The simple contact made you blush. It was funny how children dealt with affection.

- Over time, you started to drift away. It wasn't that you hated him, but most of your time was spent training with Katsuki. So in the last year, before the two of them went to U.A, you barely saw Deku.

- You were on good terms with Katsuki. That is, until you found out that he never really left Deku alone. The moment you walked into the classroom in a rage, he thought it was strange. But as soon as the blonde felt you attack him with all your force, he was in shock.

"DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR HIM AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOU SHIT?! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MY BROTHER"

you pulled Deku with you, leaving behind an extremely angry blond, yelling that he didn't care about you.

That afternoon, Deku comforted you while telling you that everything was going to be okay. But you didn't believe it.

- Obviously things got weird between Katsuki and you. Especially because you would stay in the same house for months before he went to U.A. And even though your parents tried everything to make things work out for you, nothing worked. He was too proud to do anything, and you had too much anger built up to be on good terms with him.

- You continued to be close to Deku. Staying with him all day now, and threatening anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way. And even if he said he didn't need all that, you just told him to shut up. You two became really close after that.

- At the time, when he would just disappear sometimes, you were really worried. Even though you didn't have much time, as you were busy with your own training.

- Of course, when you found out he got into U.A. you wanted to celebrate. When you brought up the subject of the quirk, he got all weird, so you let it go.

- At the same time, you and Katsuki still haven't made up. Neither of you wanted to apologize, you were too proud for that. And now, it would be even harder with him at U.A.

- At first it was really strange, when you didn't see Deku as often anymore. Even though he always called you every night, and sent you messages all day long.

- He was saying how wonderful U.A was. That he had met All Might (he said he told you about it, and you almost had a heart attack). You were so excited for him! (and for Katsuki even though you wouldn't admit it). But of course things changed when he was kidnapped.

- As soon as you found out about the kidnapping, your first instinct was to call Deku. You were desperate, and he tried to calm you down by saying he would fix everything. That's when you had your first fight.

"IT'S NOT GOING TO BE OKAY, DEKU! HE'S BEEN KIDNAPPED!"

"You need to calm down... I told you! I'll find a way! You need to trust me!"

"A WAY, DEKU?! MY BROTHER WAS KIDNAPPED BY THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS! IT'S NOT SIMPLE!!! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? HUM? UNTIL A MONTH AGO YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK"

the silence that fell was deafening.

"I'm going to hang up."

"(Name) Wait-"

You hung up on him, you knew what you said to him was wrong. But your concern for your brother's life was greater than any guilt. You ignored all his other calls for the rest of the day.

- As soon as Katsuki came back. You punched him in the face. Well, brotherly love, right? But you didn't let go of him for a whole week.

As soon as you met the blond again, with the weight of your fight and the worry you felt, all you could do was punch him.

Everyone was shocked, your parents, All Might who you didn't even realize was there. Even Deku wasn't expecting it. Of course, Katsuki didn't take it personally, certainly not. But before he could yell something stupid, he felt you hug him.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

He simply gave you an ironic laugh and hugged you back. He didn't like hugs, but he knew he couldn't deny you that.

Well, now everyone was really in shock.

- Well, they gave you a week to stay with Katsuki (With All Might asking for it, it became easier for it to happen). No one had ever seen this hot-headed blonde treat someone well, so when they saw how he treated you (despite still having the insults), everyone wanted to meet the grumpy blonde's dear sister. And he hated the idea, although he wasn't the only one. A certain green-haired boy, perhaps, was quite sullen.

- Of course when you saw Deku, the first thing you did was apologize. It was funny that even though you were as proud as your brother, when it came to Deku, things were simpler and easier. He obviously accepted your apology, you spent an entire day together, with Katsuki obviously hating every second of it.

- Well, the rest of the year was tense too. With all the fights and stuff. The only times Deku could relax were when he was with you.

- It didn't take long for him to realize that he was in love with you. Because of course, with his friends making jokes about it, it was hard to hide it. He had no intention of confessing, he didn't want to ruin his friendship with you. But of course Uraraka, Mina and Denki thought otherwise.

- After coming up with a plan to make you two finally confess, everything went wrong. Katsuki was suspicious, so he simply wouldn't let go of you the whole time. Until, of course, the guys decided to bring All Might into the plan (bros are determined). Somehow, they convinced All Might to distract Katsuki. So when you were finally alone, he got nervous, not knowing what to do. And before everyone could intervene to help him, they saw you kissing Deku.

- Obviously you started dating. Everyone was happy for you, your parents thought Deku was adorable. But of course one person didn't like it. A certain blond guy was totally against your relationship. But not that he would do anything other than threaten Deku, saying that if he touched a single hair on your head, he would end up underground (he takes threats seriously). Anyway, he would always be in the corner complaining, not that you care.

- The best thing that could have happened was when you started at U.A. Many nights, he would sneak into your dorm. You would have lunch together, walk hand in hand through the hallways. He would train with you (you loved it when training turned into a kissing session, which embarrassed him). Anyone who looked at Deku would realize how much he loved you, even Katsuki knew that.

- Most of the make-out sessions were initiated by you. Sometimes in the bedroom, during training, or during breaks. One time, you almost got caught. He almost died because he thought he would get caught, while you could only laugh.

- Every time you went home, you always took Deku with you. Katsuki hated that. You also went to his house a lot, his mother adores you! She loves showing you pictures of him, which makes him embarrassed.

- You two love to sleep cuddling. One time you were cuddling on the couch kissing, and Katsuki decided to get between you. You were sulking, and Deku didn't know where to hide his face. Poor Deku if Katsuki knew more.

- Even if Katsuki doesn't admit it, he trusts Deku. And he'd much rather you date the green-haired boy than any other guy.

SERIOUSLY I'M SO OBSESSED WITH THESE TWO!! I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE IT!!!

'N SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH!!!

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annievrse · 3 days

Text

that's not my name!

college!eren jaeger x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: eren refers to reader as 'my girl', she/her pronouns, established relationship, reader is shorter than eren.

"call me that one more time and see what happens."

you roll your lips between your teeth, a smile threatening to break across your face. "eren, eren, eren."

"baby!" he pouts. "you always call me baby. stop that."

you giggle into your hand, eren’s fallen expression causing you to burst. his eyes shift under his dark eyebrows, mischief swimming in his green irises.

then, eren abandons his protein drink and reaches over the table, placing his hands on your shoulders. "don't make me shake you."

"baby," you whisper, peering up at him. at the sound of his name, he visibly melts. his shoulders relax, and his expression morphs into relief.

"thank you," eren nods, rubbing your skin. "now, was that so hard?"

"i dont know, eren, you tell me."

"ugh," he rolls his eyes, sitting back down and taking a swig of his drink.

"can i try some?"

"no, because i know you're not gonna like it," eren deadpans. "then you're going to ask me how the hell i like it, and i don't want to listen to that right now."

"you're so mean."

"says the one purposefully messing up my name before."

"are we gonna stop them soon?" armin whispers to mikasa, the pair governing the other half of the picnic bench—you next to mikasa & armin beside eren.

the girl rolls her eyes and sighs. “we have to meet up with the others soon. are you done?"

you face her with a wince and give your best friend a sheepish smile. "sorry."

"she's lying," eren quips, winking at you across the table. he finishes his drink and shoves the cup into the side of his backpack.

"am not!" you say, throwing him a glare. you don't miss the anxious expression on armin's face. "and look! you're even stressing armin out."

armin's cheeks glow red at your comment. "i just don't want to be late."

eren grins and raises an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. a few loose strands from his bun fall in his eyes as he tilts his head. "you two can go on. we'll catch up with you later."

mikasa rolls her eyes and stands, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. she yanks armin up by his shirt collar. "don't be too late."

"when are we ever?" eren smirks, eyes never straying from yours.

armin scoffs, pushing his glasses up his noise. "do you really want us to answer that?"

"damn," eren pouts. "fine, we'll come with you right now then." he stands from his spot and rounds the table before you can do the same. eren plucks your bag from your side and heaves it onto his shoulder, slipping his arm through his own backpack seconds later.

you giggle as he urges you to hurry up, running ahead of mikasa and armin. "we're never late!"

mikasa nudges your shoulder when you fall into step beside her. "better get going. you don't want to be late."

you roll your eyes and quicken your steps to catch up to your boyfriend, who almost tackles you when he notices you approaching. "my girl."

"my baby," you laugh and shove your face into his shoulder. his strides are much longer than yours, so you half jog to keep up with him. giggles fall from eren's lips as he kisses your head.

"you're going the wrong way!"

"shit," eren mumbles, steering you across the grass to the path where your best friends walk.

with your hand in the crook of his elbow, you walk behind them, whispering about nothing and everything and sharing kisses between laughs.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren jeager x reader #aot x reader #aot imagine #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan

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sweatervest-obsessed · 2 days

Text

Last, Last Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: ~7.3k

TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.

a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!

Spencer Masterlist

“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.”

“Y/n…”

“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”

The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart.

“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.”

“Wait for the potential of us?”

Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.

“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.”

“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”

“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.”

Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face.

“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....”

“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…”

The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.

“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved.

The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough.

“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.”

Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home.

Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..”

About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him.

He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty.

And it stuck.

Now? It stung.

All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.

“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms.

“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...”

Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face.

You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time.

You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you.

Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it.

Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you.

You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—

Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years.

Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job.

Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—

The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off.

This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years.

You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone.

Emily Prentiss

______________________________________________________________

The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.”

Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”

The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. .

Spencer just stared at the photo.

Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”

He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”

“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours. I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

______________________________________________________________

Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call.

You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“

“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.”

Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything.

“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?”

“What?”

“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.”

“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?”

Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now.

You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life.

Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter.

You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely.

It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit.

You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night.

As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car.

Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face.

Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.”

“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort.

“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.

“Let’s head inside?”

The three of you moved inside.

Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like.

As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you.

“What do you know about Cat Adams?”

That bitch.

______________________________________________________________

“I would like to go on a date. With you.”

Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”

“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”

Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.

“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”

Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”

“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”

Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”

His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.

______________________________________________________________

Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.”

They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was.

“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.”

Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips.

Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too.

She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”

“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file.

Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh.

“What is the last thing you know about her?”

You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later.

They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces.

“What? What happened?”

“Y/n..”

“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?”

Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—

“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”

“We didn’t think you’d–”

“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.”

Both of them went silent.

“So is he out?”

They nodded slowly, silently.

“How long was he in there.”

Nothing.

“I asked. How. Long.”

Luke spoke up. “Three months.”

“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down.

Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you.

“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?”

“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.”

Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her.

They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile.

You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind.

Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.

“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.

At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed.

______________________________________________________________

“Victimology is off.”

“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room.

“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.”

Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.”

Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.”

“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer.

Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.

While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid.

Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture.

Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?”

“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.”

______________________________________________________________

After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it.

Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.

There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest.

Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong.

Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter.

“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”

You nodded. “How does this affect me?”

“She took your father and sister.”

Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.”

His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear.

“So why is she here?” You whispered back.

“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.”

Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation.

The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet.

It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent.

The pity from Rossi's look was palpable.

“Don’t even start.”

He shrugged and stayed silent.

Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.”

You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone.

Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch.

Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch.

______________________________________________________________

“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”

Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “

“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.”

“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.”

Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.”

“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?”

“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office.

“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily.

Emily sighed in agreement.

Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n really shouldn’t be in there.”

Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.”

Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ.

JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.

Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”

“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”

Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”

Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.”

______________________________________________________________

Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open.

And there he was.

This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years.

And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams.

The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship.

After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours.

It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit.

You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine.

His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger.

You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…

“What are you doing here?”

You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face.

Remember what Prentiss had said to you.

“You know why I’m here.”

Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them.

Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back.

Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off.

She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.

“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”

Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?”

“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”

Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?”

Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser.

“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue.

Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.”

You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense.

Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face.

Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before.

“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.”

Spencer spoke up. “With you?”

“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.”

“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud.

“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?”

Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”

Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”

Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.”

You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.

Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”

Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?”

“No.” you just looked down at your hands.

“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.”

“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?”

“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.”

Spencer stood up, squaring off against her. “That was a very different situation.”

“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch.

“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.

“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed.

Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”

Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?”

Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”

Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine.

Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”

“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”

Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.”

“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.”

“That doesn't mean I-I would…”

Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”

Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head.

After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.”

It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where.

Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.”

Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”

You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”

Spencer just looked over at you.

Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”

And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you.

Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?”

You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.”

“Stop.”

Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?”

You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”

That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.”

Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.”

“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”

You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?”

“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”

You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here. Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”

She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”

“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”.

Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”

“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”

“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”

You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”

Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?”

“Last year.”

“Was he good in bed?”

Spencer stood up. “Shut up.”

Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”

“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”

There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow.

Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?”

You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”

“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?”

“ I planned and I... I waited.”

Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “

“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”

Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."

You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send.

Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”

Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”

“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.”

Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.”

Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” .

“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.”

The phone in your hand buzzed.

“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.”

Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.”

She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer.

Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.”

______________________________________________________________

The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up.

“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?”

Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”

“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”

Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.”

“Would you have written me back?”

When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer.

“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison.

______________________________________________________________

The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke. “We need to debrief.”

Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in.

“Spencer, are you okay?”

Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug.

He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.

You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound.

Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached.

“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”

She nodded at him and walked away.

Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other.

“I should explain all of this.”

Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.”

You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.”

He just nodded, staring at you really.

You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back.

“Thank you for saving my sister and father.”

Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find.

Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.”

Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face.

He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger.

“They gave me an ear piece and everything.”

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.”

You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…”

Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”

“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation.

You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…”

She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was.

He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.”

Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better.

You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago.

You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him.

As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you.

Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.

It was Spencer who spoke first.

“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—”

You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did.

“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered.

The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different.

It’s not the way it used to be.

“I need to go Spencer.”

He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure.

“Y/n…”

You took another step away from him and shook your head.

“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.”

You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.”

“Y/n please.”

“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.”

Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out.

You didn’t.

His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you.

But it had to end.

You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you.

Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car.

Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces.

You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you.

The doors shut.

You were all alone in this hollow parking garage.

Your heart was aching, burning.

But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time.

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charlesxavierthirster3000 · 2 days

Text

Denim — C. Xavier

Pairing: 60s (First Class)!Charles Xavier x GN!Reader

Summary: Charles takes you out, but you're quite the fussy shopper. (Pls spare me idk how to write summaries 😥)

CW/Tags: suggestive content, pre-beach divorce Charles, no use of Y/N (there never will be on my blog), don't like don't read.

A/N: Huzzah guys I'm finally writing !!!! This prolly won't get much traction bc it's not Logan but fuck it we ball 🔥🔥 This has been rotting in Docs for like a week and I just finished it like 15 mins ago so here we go.. 😁 Also I wrote this as Fem!Reader in mind but I realised it could be GN so I'll just put it as that :3

WC: 461 / Navigation

Divider credits (They're so cute istg bro) here and here

Charles Xavier was not your sugar daddy. He could believe he was all he wanted, but your very minimal amount of dignity drew the line at that title.

The man could buy you everything you ever even thought of — which was fairly easy, considering his mutation — yet you wouldn't admit it even if you had 8 fully loaded AK-47s pointed at your face.

“Just get it, for God's sake,” Charles drawled, nodding at the pair of mid-blue bootcut jeans you'd been fawning over for what felt like half his lifetime.

When you give the gorgeous denim another doubtful up-down, he gets up from his concerningly squeaky stool bordering the men’s section and reaches for your wrist.

“It would take immense effort to make me go bankrupt, sweetheart.” He places his credit card in your palm, gently forcing your fingers over it with a short smile. It's not the first time he's done this, and it most definitely won't be the last.

“I have a pair just like thi—” you try to argue weakly, but the gloved hand over your mouth leaves you no choice but to shut your gob. God, this man was direct.

“Uh-uh, not hearing it. We both know exactly how much you want it. End of discussion. Go pay.”

He carefully nudges you forward in the direction of the distant cashier, but you blatantly refuse to move an inch. He stares incredulously at the back of your head and you have to bite back a laugh beneath the confines of his palm.

You should’ve expected it, but the British in your brain still catches you by surprise. Damn colonizers.

“Get the damn pants. Your ass would look lovely in them,” he pats your ass with his free hand as punctuation, attempting to urge you forward yet again.

“All you care about is my ass,” you retort mentally.

“Yes and no. It's definitely up there.”

“I'm gonna bite you.”

“Kinky. But keep it in your shorts ‘til we get back, yeah?”

He takes his hand off your face and gets out of your head. You whip your head around to silently complain at him, but he's staring right back at you with a smile that, to the normal person, would look as if he'd done no wrong. But to you, it was only making your situation worse.

The same smile which was pissing you off in ways you didn't even think possible morphs into a genuine laugh delivered softly, and for God's sake, you can't keep your stomach from doing a brief flip at the sound.

“Fine. Pretend you don't want them. But you're going to pay with my card, and I'll show you exactly how much you won't regret buying them when we get back to my office.”

#charles xavier #x men #x men first class #professor x #beach divorce #deadpool and wolverine #james mcavoy #x men x reader #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier smut #sugar bae #i need a lobotomy #cherik #Spotify

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hyunebunx · 3 days

Note

💛 w/ felix please!!

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333

Sunsets were your absolute favorite.

It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.

Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.

Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”

Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”

You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”

“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.

The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.

“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.

Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”

Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.

You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.

Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.

“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”

His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.

You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.

The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.

“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.

You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”

Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.

Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.

There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.

When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.

The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.

And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #stray kids x you #skz fluff #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #felix x you #felix fluff #lee felix fluff

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narryffdreaming · 3 days

Text

lia and harry's story (two)

summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) word count: 15,7k

(ONE)

Harry never texted her.

Of course he didn’t. And it wasn’t as if Lia actually expected him to, but then why did he even bother asking for her number in the first place? Why pretend he wanted to talk to her? Why pretend there was the slight chance they would ever interact again?

Lia tightened the grip around her grocery bag and sighed. Her mind was about to explode. It really was. She was too tired, and not even the fact that it was already Friday and the weekend was ahead of her was enough to cheer her up.

There was just too much going on. She couldn’t stop thinking, so she hadn’t been sleeping very well.

After Harry had left her apartment, Lia had locked the door and leaned her back against it. And then she’d closed her eyes and recalled everything that had just happened — from Harry running after her, to him looking one last time over his shoulder and waving one final goodbye before walking down the stairs.

Their interaction had started for the wrong reasons, but it had been too good to be true, and not at all a fantasy of her mind.

Harry standing in her living room had been real. His words, his stare, his smile. The sound of his laughter. The way he had cared about apologizing to her…

It had all been real, it had all actually happened.

And it had stirred a new feeling of excitement in the pit of her stomach. It had made her walk to the kitchen with a massive grin on her face, then giggle to herself while preparing things for the next day.

Then of course, as minutes went by, everything she had just spent weeks promising herself she wouldn’t do anymore, happened all over again.

She wasn’t proud of it. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. No matter how innocent his actions had been, they were enough to fuel her with endless ideas and possibilities of how that night could’ve ended instead. And although she felt terribly embarrassed to admit, for more than one second she’d allowed herself to truly entertain those thoughts.

She imagined a conversation where she had been interesting and fun enough to captivate him. Or to fascinate him, just as much as he had fascinated her. She imagined her acting confident enough to seduce him, confident enough to flirt with him. She imagined Harry reciprocating the feeling. And a moment where, instead of leaving to go back to work, Harry ended up touching her freely and thoroughly. She imagined him hugging her, kissing her. Making her feel everything she so desperately wanted to feel. She so desperately needed to feel.

By the time she was lying in bed in silence and staring through the window, reality had hit her again: inviting Harry inside of her apartment had been a terrible, terrible idea.

She’d just gone from wondering what being around him would look and be like, to actually knowing it. And no matter how great she could be feeling right then and there, at the end of the day it would only complicate things. She knew that. It would only make everything worse.

At the same time, as ashamed as Lia felt of her imagination, the truth is that Harry’s real words weren’t helping her, either — like when he mentioned he owed her a drink, or when he asked for her number.

Those very real words weren’t easy to get rid of. They echoed inside Lia’s mind constantly, ruining all of her attempts of never thinking about him again. They kept her company in the mornings while getting ready for work, then at lunch and in between classes, and also all over the afternoons. They popped up again, randomly, as she jumped off the bus and waved a timid goodbye to the very well-known driver, and again later at night when she took a shower, ordered takeaway and went to bed once again.

During the weekend, because she needed a distraction, once again she’d taken a train back to her parents. And it helped her, mostly because it meant also getting to see her brother and sister-in-law. Something she enjoyed. Something she always thought she should do more often, anyway.

But then it was Monday, and she was back into the real world. Going from her apartment to work. And from work to her apartment.

By Friday, after almost getting no sleep all week and paying no attention to anything but work, she wasn’t only ashamed and embarrassed—she was also sad and frustrated at how lame and uneventful her life was.

She was tired of living inside of her imagination, and angry at only watching others reaching their dreams and happiness. She was mad for not being able to let things go, and she was bored of the way she handled things.

And, above it all, she was longing for someone who could take all her loneliness away.

It was a mix of emotions that she could only express by huffing and grumbling to herself as she stood in front of her building, one hand inside of her stupid gigantic bag while she frowned and blindly searched for her keys.

She had only left the house to go to the grocery store, so why did she even take that thing bag with her? And why was there always so much stuff inside it?

She was so distracted and so madly annoyed at herself and her life, that she didn’t hear the bam when Harry closed the door of his car; nor the beep beep when he pressed the alarm and locked it; nor the pitter-patter when he got closer to her building. She also didn’t notice when he stopped by the first step, nor when he leaned his side against the railing and crossed his arms on his chest, nor when he watched her with an amused smirk on his face.

“Need some help there?”

Lia jumped and turned around, and the gasp that left her mouth was muffled by the crash of her bag hitting the ground, right next to her feet.

“Shit.” Harry ran up the steps in a blink of an eye, then squatted in front of her.

Lia tucked her chin and looked down, letting her arms hang loosely by her sides and watching as he gathered the few objects that had fallen from her bag and threw them back inside.

He was wearing her favorite t-shirt — again. The old tight fabric perfectly outlining the muscles on his back and shoulders as he moved his arms here and there.

His voice was a soft murmur in the back of her ringing ears, and she only noticed he was actually saying something when he placed one elbow on his bent knee and looked up at her with a frown on his face.

“Sorry.” Lia shook her head and took a step back. “W—what?”

“I was just apologizing.” He stood up, pulling her bag along with him by the thick strap. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lia tightened her fingers around the single grocery bag she was holding, gripping at it as if her sanity depended on that frozen pizza she’d just bought for dinner.

“Right.” She nodded slowly, then licked her chapped lips. “It’s fine, yeah. You didn’t scare me.”

Harry half-snorted, half-scoffed. “I sure did, love. Is everything alright?”

Lia slumped her shoulders, and a lough sigh escaped through her lips and nose. She closed her eyes and scratched her forehead, then told him the exact same lie she’d been telling every single person who’d asked that same question in the last couple days.

“Yeah… Everything’s fine. Long week at work, that’s all.”

Harry hummed, and when she opened her eyes again, she found him leaning his lower back against the railing of her building.

He looked at her curiously, green eyes staring at her as if he could see a different answer written all over her face.

It was unsettling, but also oddly comforting at the same time.

“Haven’t seen you at the bar anymore,” he finally said.

Lia looked around the street, watching the few people walking by.

She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t even a question, to begin with. He didn’t see her at the bar, because she didn’t go to the bar. Period. It seemed obvious, and boring.

Was there anything else she could say instead? Something that would be more… Interesting?

“Hey.” Harry circled her wrist with one hand, then gently squeezed.

Lia looked back at him, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a closed-mouth smile, a dimple, and wrinkles around his eyes.

“You sure you’re ok?” He let his arm fall back to his side. “You look tired.”

Lia shifted on her feet and looked down, pulling her hair over one shoulder. She used her fingers to brush through her locks and put down some of her untamed strands. Then, as she rubbed under her nose with the side of one finger, she took her occupied hand to pull the hem of her sweater down.

“I look like a mess, I know,” she mumbled, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess… I haven’t been sleeping that much.”

Or at all.

“That sucks.”

The tone of his voice carried his sentiment, and she fed her curiosity by glancing at him. Once again, she met his green, caring and concentrated eyes, and for a moment she was convinced the entire world had stopped just for them.

There was a curl threatening to fall onto his forehead, and a very obvious stubble around his soft mouth — covering his chin, the sides of his face and the mole on the left side of his bottom lip.

The smoothness of his facial hair drew even more attention to his unprompted dimples, and the boyish breeze around him clashed with the intensity pouring out from his broad shoulders, sharped jaw and thick neck.

He stood so unconcerned in front of her, casually leaning against the cold iron that led to the front door of her building and holding the strap of her bag with both hands as it hung in between his parted legs and—

“Oh my God!” Lia gasped. Shit. She straightened her back and took a step closer to him, stretching her arm to clasp her fingers around the strap of her bag. “‘M so sorry. You’ve been holding this and I just… I didn’t… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Shaking her head, Lia pulled one side of the strap towards her chest, expecting Harry to easily let it go.

Harry tugged back, though, yanking her forward and in between his legs.

A yelp left her throat as she stumbled on her feet, her hand flying up along with the grocery bag to hold herself on his chest.

Harry’s free hand landed on her waist, keeping her in place while his other hand remained attached to the strap of her bag, just like hers.

“Just to be clear,” Harry murmured, sinking his fern green eyes into her dark brown ones. “I never said you look like a mess.”

Lia pressed her lips together and breathed out through her nose, then drifted her eyes down and between them.

Her hand was still on his chest, and a tingling swept up through the back of her neck and across her face — she had just shoved a grocery bag into Harry’s chest. A grocery bag, with a frozen pizza in it.

And he didn’t seem at least one bit bothered by it.

“It’s not what I meant, either, y’know,” he added. “When I said you look tired.”

Lia swallowed the nervousness down, ignoring the way her cheeks were burning.

(Or, well, maybe actually trying to ignore the way her entire body was burning.)

“What… Uh… What did you mean, then?”

Harry shrugged, slightly digging his fingers into her waist. The way he held her, so firmly and yet so casually, made her heart skip a couple of beats. It was hard to pay attention to what was happening whilst also being hyper-aware of everything she was feeling, and an overwhelming emotion she couldn’t name spread all over her chest.

“Just that I can tell you’re not doing ok.”

Oh.

Lia frowned.

Was that…

Was that supposed to make her feel better?

Harry let her waist go and reached for her hand, covering her hold around her bag. “May I?”

She answered by loosening the grip on the strap, and his response was just as instant — he slid his fingers under her palm and held her firmly, meanwhile lowered the item to the floor with his other hand and slowly dropped it between his feet.

“I can also tell you could use a good night of sleep… Or maybe two,” he added. He took his new free fingers to his chest, removing the grocery bag from her other hand and putting it on the floor, too. “Probably could use some loosening up. Have some fun. Laugh a little.”

“Right,” she whispered, if only to stop him from listing everything that was wrong with her life. Or everything that could be better. Or everything that was missing. “That…” She cleared her throat. “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because… I mean… None of that sounds good, y’know?”

Harry’s lips twitched up.

“Yes, I know…” He nodded. He took his hand up to her face, brushing her skin while putting her hair away and locking it behind her ear. “Sorry. Promise it’s coming from a place of worry, though. That’s all.”

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

“I—I mean…” Lia licked her lips. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.”

“Hmm…” He let his arm fall on his lap, but his other hand kept holding hers, thumb moving in circles and gently brushing her skin. “Is there anything I can do? I’m here if you need any help.”

Lia furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…” Harry shrugged. “Whatever you need. Or want.”

An awkward laugh left Lia’s mouth, and she shook her head.

If Harry knew what was keeping her awake at night, he wouldn’t be offering that.

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

“Ok,” he murmured. “What about tonight, then? Any plans?”

“Well… I just bought myself a frozen pizza, so…”

“Hmmm.” Harry smiled. “Yummy…”

Lia bit her lip. The low and teasing tone of his voice made her skin tingle.

“And what about after dinner?”

“What—What about it?”

“Any chance you’ll come over to the bar? I still owe you a drink, remember?”

She brushed the tips of her fingers on his t-shirt, drawing random patterns before slowly pulling her arm away from him.

“I... I don’t think so. Sorry. I just... I’m really tired, and I don’t think being around too many people will help… It’s just… I don’t know… I guess… A lot of information? If that makes sense? Sorry, I don’t know how to explain it and—"

“Hey,” he called, squeezing her hand. “I get it. Makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. Of course. The bar can get really loud and crowded… Not fun at all if all you want is to relax.”

“Yeah…” Lia blinked. Again and again. “That’s… Yeah. Thank you.”

He tilted his head. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know… For understanding? I guess? Not a lot of people do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause people suck.”

Lia snorted, and chuckled. She dropped her head, covering her mouth while her shoulders moved up and down.

Hopefully, even though he was standing extremely close to her, Harry wouldn’t see the way her entire face scrunched up when she laughed. It wasn’t a very pretty sight to see.

“Lia?”

She cleared her throat, shaking her head twice before taking a deep breath in and lifting up her chin.

“Yeah?”

Their eyes found each other, and Lia immediately froze.

Harry wasn’t laughing, and he wasn’t smiling. But he wasn’t mad, either. He held her stare with an inquisitive look, and it was so intense that it made her gulp down, unsettled by the hint of something flashing through them—something she was afraid to name, but wasn’t so hard to guess.

“I’m glad you called me an asshole.”

She raised her eyebrows, and her voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “You are?”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded. “I really am.”

“W—why?”

He slid his tongue between his lips, getting them wet. They glistened under the sunset shades that surrounded them, and Lia stared at their slow movements as he spoke. “It brought us here, didn’t it?”

Shutting her mouth, Lia blinked blankly at him.

“I mean, of course I wish I hadn’t made you feel like that in the first place, but still… I’m glad you called me out for it.”

“Yeah I don’t… Usually do that, y’know? That’s why I freaked out and… Why I was so embarrassed about it. I guess I’m just… I’m just not brave enough to speak up. I don’t know.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll respectfully disagree with that. You seem a lot braver than most people I know.”

Lia looked down, not able to hold back a smile.

“I think…” she murmured. “I think I should go. It’s getting late.”

“Is it? Huh… Could stay here for hours.”

Heat flushed up her neck, then spread all over her face.

“Don’t you have to work tonight?”

“Oh, ooook then.” Harry laughed and stood up, straightening his body and causing her to stumble backwards. “Gotcha. Message received. I’m leaving now.”

“What? No!” Lia shook her head. “What message? I wasn’t—I just… It’s Friday, so I know it gets busier at the bar and… I wasn’t… Y’know… I didn’t mean… I just—"

“Hey, hey…” Harry squeezed her hand, pulling her to step closer and into him again. “I know. I’m just teasing you, love. It’s fine.”

“Ugh… I really suck at this.”

“You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t, and I mean it. If anything, I think it makes you even more interesting.”

They stared at each other.

Stared at each other.

And stared at each other.

They stared and stared, until the trembling inside Lia’s belly felt too much and she looked away.

Harry cleared his throat.

“Ok… I’ll let you go now, since it’s getting late and you’ve got a frozen pizza to cook…” he teased, happiness lingering in his voice. “But I’ll see you around, tho, right?”

“Y-yeah, sure… I—I’ll see you around.”

Lia nodded, forcing her smile to stay longer even though the idea of saying goodbye to him only brought sadness to her chest.

What the hell was happening?

And how long would it take until she saw him again?

— — — — —

Pam was on the phone with her mom and Jim had just walked in the office when Lia’s phone buzzed on the couch, next to her thigh.

How’s pizza? Keeping you company?

Lia furrowed her brows, checking twice that the texts had been sent by an unknown number. And then her heart skipped a beat, and her hands began to sweat.

The idea of Harry reaching out was just as exciting and joyful as scary and unbelievable. To be fair, she couldn’t imagine who else it could be, but she also was too afraid to just assume. What if someone was pranking her? What if he was pranking her?

Her phone buzzed again.

This is Harry, btw.

“Shit,” Lia murmured.

She sat upright and pulled the blanket off from her lap, then grabbed her phone with her trembling and nervous hands.

It took her at least five minutes to come up with a calm and collected answer.

still in the oven hi harry:)

Heat spread through her cheeks.

She was so lame. So boring.

Why was Harry even texting her?!

Her phone buzzed again.

Hii :) That’s a shame You should’ve found yourself better company

Lia stared at her phone and bit her lip.

The opportunity was there, right in front of her. In a fantasy world, she would’ve pointed out how he should’ve kept her company instead. Or maybe she would have invited him to be that better company.

Both options ran through her mind. Both options tinkled on her fingers. And yet, it was Lia’s world she lived in, so she settled for the safest words to say.

it was the best thing I could find at the grocery store

Opposite from her, he didn’t take a second to reply. As if he didn’t even need to think before he spoke.

Hmmm Maybe next time you should try somewhere else, then

She read his text once, and twice. For a moment, an empty feeling in the pit of the stomach turned into nausea, but then her mind seemed to act on its own. Disconnecting from the rest of her body as it directed her fingers to type again.

I might… do you have any recommendations?

The three dots on Harry’s side of the conversation came up quickly, then they flashed for a while. And then, they disappeared.

Lia swallowed hard, watching the screen for another minute or two just to make sure that no more answers would come through. When they didn’t, her stomach clenched, and the nausea became hard to ignore. So she put her phone away and stared back at the TV, pulling her knees to her chest and pretending to pay attention while she kept checking through the corner of her eyes. Then wincing every time she thought about her last text to him. Or how she never got a reply.

Not then, not ten minutes later, and not even half an hour later.

No matter how much she checked her phone, or how many times she peeked at the screen for a new notification, Harry’s answer was nowhere to be seen.

— — — — —

Half a pizza and three episodes of The Office later, a loud knock on her door had Lia jumping on her seat. She paused the show with a frown, then waited to see if something else would happen.

Maybe she could get away with pretending she wasn’t home. Maybe whoever was on the other side would give up and move on to the next door.

But then…

Another knock. And another one.

And Lia finally got on her feet — because what if something bad had happened? What if someone was hurt?

Another knock on the door.

“Just a second!” she yelled, walking as fast as she could with her slippery purple socks.

She rubbed the tip of her nose and took a deep breath, then turned the key around and stepped aside to reveal…

Harry?

Lia jerked her head back, chin slightly going down while she blinked at the tall figure standing in front of her.

“Good evening, miss,” he said with a thick British accent and overly-polite voice. A proud smirk matched the twinkle in his eyes, and it only got deeper when he raised one hand and showed off a glass. “Did you order a mojito?”

Lia just… Stopped functioning? Or her mind went completely blank. And then, after a moment, her body reacted unconsciously, all at once—her arms fell to her sides, her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened.

Maybe only a second passed until Harry chuckled and spoke again. Or maybe a minute, or maybe an hour. It would be hard to tell, and she wasn’t even paying attention to that. It didn’t really matter.

“Surprised?” he asked.

Lia blinked once. Then twice. Then a couple of more times.

“I…”

Dizzy, she shook her head and closed her mouth, swallowing the awkwardness down and darting her tongue between her lips.

“I mean…” She pulled each side of her cardigan with one hand and crossed her arms on top of her belly, covering the old white loose tank top she had at some point of her life turned into pajamas. “Yes? Y—yes! Of course! What are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “I brought you a mojito.”

Lia glanced at Harry’s hand, then at his face, then back at his hand. The glass looked minuscule while wrapped inside his long fingers, but it was there. It was actually there.

“But I don’t… I didn’t …”

She furrowed her brows, and slowly dragged her attention back to his eyes.

What the hell was happening?!

“I know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I brought you a mojito.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged.

“Because I wanted to cheer you up.”

“But why?”

Amusement crossed Harry’s face. He tilted his head to the side, and his lips twitched into a smile.

“Sorry,” Lia said. “I just…”

She glanced at the glass in his hand. Green leaves, ice cubes and lime wedges. Her stomach fluttered, and she tightened the grip around her own body.

It truly was a mojito. A mojito.

Out of all the things he could’ve surprised her with, that’s what he had chosen?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, then slowly released the air out of her body. It was embarrassing to have to do that in front of him, but it was the only way she knew to be effective and get rid of the tension off her shoulders. It was what she did all the time — breathe, sigh, breathe again. Calm down her desperate heart.

“Sorry.” She blinked, then focused back on his green stare. “I just honestly don’t know how to react… I mean… I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”

His face softened, and he shrugged one shoulder.

“No need to react,” Harry said, putting his free hand inside of his pocket and stretching his other arm towards her. “Just take it inside with you. Drink it. Give it to your plants. Flush it away. Whatever you want. I’ll never know.”

Lia chuckled.

She unclasped her arms calmly, lifting one of them to wrap her fingers around the glass. They inevitably brushed Harry’s skin, and her breath sped up, matching her already racing heart.

“Thank you,” she said, holding his stare as she pulled the drink closer to her body. “Of course I’ll drink it.”

He smiled into her eyes, and Lia glanced down to the mojito.

“Did you make it?”

At that, Harry scoffed. “‘Course I did. Why? Should’ve I asked Rohan?”

Lia furrowed her brows.

“What? No.” She shook her head. “That’s not… He never gets it how I like it.”

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle left Harry’s mouth.

“Oh my God.” Lia widened her eyes, then raised her chin to stare back at him. Harry was laughing silently at the floor. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t think he’s good… Shit. Not him… The mojitos… I mean… His mojitos are good… It’s just… He’s not… I don’t… He’s—"

“Hey.” Harry placed his hand on her shoulder, and Lia pressed her lips together. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and his eyes soothed her. “I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Lia sighed.

“Thanks.”

Harry let her go, shoving his now-mojito-free hand inside of his other pocket and curling his lips up.

“Hope you’ll like mine, tho.”

“I… I will. Yeah.”

I always do, she wished she could add.

Making sure the words wouldn’t slip out of her mouth, she lifted the glass up to her lips and took a timid sip out of it.

Almost immediately, heat radiated down her throat and through her chest. So she closed her eyes and took a second and longer sip, focusing on properly tasting it this time.

The flavors were all easy to recognize—the mint, the lime, the club soda, and the rum. When she swallowed, she pressed her lips together in a smile, unintentionally humming at the sweetness and freshness.

It was… Delicious. The perfect balance between all ingredients, including the amount of sugar and ice.

Harry cleared his throat, and Lia batted her lashes to focus her sight on him once again.

He watched her with a grin on his face, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Lia whispered. “Really good. Delicious, actually.”

Harry grinned even wider, and Lia found herself smiling, too.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course. Maybe next time you can get some mojitos instead of pizza. I’m sure they’ll enjoy keeping you company.”

Butterflies batted their wings in her belly, and a rush of adrenaline bolted through her veins.

“T—they?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah… Y’know… The mojitos… Me…”

Lia shuffled on her feet, wiggling her toes inside her purple socks.

“I was going to tell you that earlier, by the way,” he added, saving her from the embarrassment of letting him know she had no idea how to answer that. “But things got crazy at the bar and I had to put my phone down so… Sorry.”

“That’s—That’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She cleared her throat, then tightened the grip of her fingers around the glass. “Do you… Uh… Do you have to go? Or… Maybe… I don’t know… I mean… Would you… Would you like to come in?”

Harry tilted his head and, just like earlier, his eyes twinkled with something. Something different, though. Playfulness, maybe? Or amusement?

Mischief, perhaps?

Lia wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it didn’t make her uncomfortable, nor embarrassed.

“Would love to, really. But I gotta go back to work… I’m sure my break ended a while ago.”

“Oh… Y—yeah, right. Of course. Sorry.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t be. I’d rather stay here with you, to be honest.”

Feeling herself about to smile again, Lia looked down at the drink in her hand and bit her lip.

“Uh… And what… What time do you finish work, then?”

“Tonight?”

“Mhm.”

Harry took a tiny step forward, and Lia held her breath.

“Well… We close the bar at two.”

“Right.”

The last t left her mouth and echoed in the hallway, and Lia watched Harry’s feet get closer and closer as he walked forward, stopping only when he was right in front of her.

He took a hand out of his pocket and lifted his arm, then placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him again.

The butterflies seemed to abandon her belly and fly all over her body, because every inch and every corner inside her tingled and fluttered.

Harry wasn’t smiling anymore. The playfulness on his face had been replaced by determination, but his eyes were still soft and gentle when staring inside hers.

“Any chance you’ll still be awake by then?”

“M—maybe? I mean, I could be.”

“You could, huh?”

Lia shrugged, then nodded.

The smirk grew easily on his lips.

“You sure? It’s gonna be late… I don’t wanna bother you.”

Lia’s heart pounded inside her chest. So loudly she was afraid even Harry could hear it.

Truthfully speaking, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever stay awake so late just to meet someone.

However this wasn’t just someone, was it? It was Harry.

Harry.

The guy she had been secretly dreaming about for almost a year now.

Would she be able to forgive herself if she didn’t try?

Of course she wouldn’t.

So Lia silently and slightly nodded again.

“Hmm…” He brushed his thumb up and down her jaw. “In that case… How do you feel about watching a movie?”

Lia licked her lips, and swallowed. “Here?”

“Mhmm.”

“After your shift?”

Harry nodded.

“I—Yeah. Okay. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you stay awake for me, then?”

“Mhmm… I’ll… I’ll be awake.”

“Good.” He moved his thumb up and down again, then slid his hand to her neck and held her for a moment before he dropped his arm back to his side. “See you in a couple hours, then.”

— — — — —

At 2:17am, Lia buzzed Harry in.

She waited for him in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed under her chest. Her insides blazed with anticipation, and the sweating of her hands was getting hard to control—and even harder to hide.

Everything was silent. Quiet. Empty. The perfect scenario for her to get lost inside her mind and start doubting every decision she’d ever made leading to that exact moment in time.

Shit.

Lia looked down at her feet and tapped her heel on the floor.

She couldn’t start spiraling. Not right then. Not when she was about to see the guy she had fantasized about for so long. Not when she was about to watch a movie with the guy she had crushed on for so long. Not when she was finally getting attention from the guy she had silently dreamed about for so long.

She couldn’t. She really couldn’t.

And yet…

She should’ve put on something more flattering to see him... Shouldn’t she?

She didn’t want him to notice she had showered, shaved, and changed her underwear just to see him, so she had put on the same outfit he’d had seen earlier—the same gray loose pants and basic white tank top, and even the same beige cardigan and purple socks. Which was also the same outfit she had slept on the night before, and that she was planning to wear to bed again that night.

Shit.

What was wrong with her?

Why couldn’t she have tried a little bit harder?

Desperation sparked and unrolled inside her, but then the sound of Harry’s feet reached her ears, loud and clear — walking up the stairs, a floor or two below. And that was enough to absorb all of her attention. To make her forget all about everything and look up.

Look up and just wait for him.

Wait to see him.

Those minutes it took for him to get to her floor were the worst. And the longest. Harry took his time, climbing step by step. And the anticipation inside Lia’s body seemed to increase a hundred times.

By the time she finally saw him, her heart was racing, and her belly quivering.

Harry looked handsome. Like earlier, and like he always did.

He was wearing all black, though, something she hadn’t noticed earlier, when he’d brought her the mojito. Wasn’t he wearing her favorite t-shirt when they’d met outside?

His curls were messier than before, too. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a glimmer of sweat peeking from the back of his neck.

He seemed tired, and it made sense that he was.

Guilt flared all over her.

Friday nights at the bar were busy. Anyone could imagine that. And Lia not only could have figured that all by herself, but she had also seen it happening right in front of her eyes at least once or twice.

What kind of person made plans at 2am on a Friday?

Or, well, technically, on a Saturday… But still…

Was that even normal?

Was it a thing?

Was she out of her mind?

Harry looked up before reaching the last flight of steps.

As soon as he met her eyes, he curled his lips slightly up.

“Hii,” he murmured.

Lia bit her lip.

Despite everything, there he was. Casually walking under the yellow lights of her hallway, as if that was exactly where he was supposed to be. Stopping by her door with certainty, as if he had been on the exact same spot hundreds of times before. And looking at her with softness and tranquility, as if she was the only cure for his exhaustion.

Lia liked that. She didn’t know what was happening or why, but she liked that.

She liked that a lot.

“Hi,” she murmured back, offering him a soft smile. “Come on in.”

She gestured behind her, determined to offer her couch if only for him to sleep for as long as he needed to.

“Thanks.”

Harry walked past her with a polite smile on his face, stopping by the door to take his shoes off and then moving towards the couch.

Meanwhile, Lia shut the door, turned the key around, and locked them inside.

And then…

Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twirled.

It was just the two of them.

Lia and Harry. Harry and Lia. And no one else.

She hugged herself with her cardigan and breathed in, then out. When she turned around, it was just in time to see Harry drop his weight on the middle of her couch.

Thankfully, he didn’t need an invitation to make himself at home. He put the fluffy blanket next to him and scooched backwards, squaring his shoulders against the dark pillows and spreading his legs slightly open. Next, he sighed, dropped his neck, and rested the back of his head on the edge of the couch.

And then, he tilted his chin to the side, and finally faced her.

His strong eye contact captured her, and a shiver ran over her skin.

Harry curled his mouth into another smile.

“So, did you enjoy your mojito?”

Tightening her arms under her chest, Lia looked at her feet and nodded.

“Y—yeah… I… It was really good. Thank you.”

“‘Course. Any—” A yawn got in the way of his answer, and Lia darted her eyes up.

Harry faced the ceiling now. His eyes were shut and his mouth was wide open. His chest went up, up, up. And then he exhaled, loudly, and his chest went back down at the same time he slowly closed his mouth.

Lia pressed her lips together and covered half of her face with one hand, stifling her own yawn.

“Shit.” He chuckled, shaking his head briefly then looking back at her. “Sorry. Long night at the bar.”

She shook her head and dropped her hand on top of her other arm.

“‘S fine. Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda guilty, to be honest.”

“Guilty? Why?”

Lia shrugged.

“For making you come here after work? I mean…” She looked at the TV on the wall across from him, and then at her feet. “It’s so late… I get it if you’re tired. I should’ve thought about that."

There was a pause.

A beat.

Maybe two.

Or maybe three.

Or maybe none.

It didn’t matter. The silent air wasn’t heavy around them.

Eventually, she gathered enough courage to lift her head and look at him again. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise to find Harry already staring, but it still made her chest tighten.

So she bit her lip.

And Harry blinked. Several times.

Then, he cleared his throat.

“You know I wanted to come here, right?” he asked. “I thought I was being obvious, but I don’t mind saying it. Like, I was the one who suggested this, so if anything I’m the one who feels like a dickhead for making you stay up so late.”

An amused—yet small—smile grew on Lia’s face.

“I didn’t mind.” She shrugged. “I wanted to wait.”

Harry smiled, too.

“And I wanted to see you. So that’s settled.”

Warmth filled Lia’s chest, and her body tingled. Unable to hold herself from stupidly smiling, she pursed her lips tightly, then bit the insides of her bottom lip. The feeling took over her brain, though, and without any warning, happiness erupted out of her mouth in the form of soft and genuine giggles.

“Sorry,” she said, taking a hand up to her face and covering her lips.

Harry sighed.

“C’mon now,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “You’re too far away.”

It was hard to contain the butterflies and nerves, but she still found a way to move her legs and shortened the distance between them. She uncrossed her arms to put her hair behind her ears, looking at the floor and being careful to not step on his feet or trip on his ankles as she made her way past his knees.

His head followed her movements along with his eyes, turning from one side to the other.

When she sat next to him and lifted her chin, she glanced directly at his eyes.

Harry was already beaming at her.

“Hi,” he murmured.

Excitement fluttered deep in the pit of her stomach, and Lia smiled.

“Hi,” she murmured back. “I love mojitos.”

Harry chuckled, moving his head and closing his eyes to the ceiling.

Damnit.

Turning slightly to see him better, Lia observed him with adoration. It felt impossible not to. He was captivating. There was something truthfully genuine about him. A simplicity surrounding his eyes, wrinkling his skin in a boyish way. Even tired, and even after a long shift, a glowing energy surrounded him. And it was mesmerizing.

He was mesmerizing.

“You do, yeah,” he said, still smiling, and tilting his head to face her again. “I’ve noticed.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“I… That’s…”

Lia blinked. Actually, she didn’t know what to say, so she furrowed her brows and shut her mouth.

What did he mean by that?

Had he noticed how much she loved mojitos in general, or how much she loved his mojitos?

And what else he had noticed about her?

Had he noticed how deeply into him she was?

How much she stared at him?

How much she daydreamed about him?

“I should’ve asked you on a proper date, y’know?” Harry said. A playful smile grew on his face, and his tone came out teasingly. “Take you out somewhere nice… On normal hours… After at least taking a shower…”

He sounded calm, as if that was the most natural thing he could say to her.

Lia’s chest, on the other hand, kept moving up and down quickly, as if her heart and lungs had completely forgotten how they were supposed to function to keep her alive.

“A—a… A d—date?” she barely managed to ask.

“Well, yeah.” Harry dragged his eyes off hers, only to watch himself raise his arm and reach for a lock of her hair. “A date feels more… I don’t know… Gentleman…ly?”

He chuckled — tiredly, but honestly.

“Is that even a word?” he asked, twirling her hair around his finger. “Anyway…”

He stopped moving, yet didn’t pull his hand away. Meeting her gaze again, uncertainty flashed through his eyes, but soon was covered with the comfort of his smile. “I should have, but… I guess I just didn’t want to wait. So this late night thing just kinda happened, y’know?”

Lia swallowed.

“Y—yeah… I know.”

He placed his hand on her neck, resting four fingers on the side of her throat while his thumb stroked up and down her jaw and cheek.

“You have a beautiful smile, by the way,” Harry suddenly pointed out.

“W—what?”

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but…” He shrugged. “You hide everytime you smile or laugh, and it’s just... I don’t know. It’s beautiful to see you smiling. That’s all.”

Lia’s neck burned, blood rushed through her cheeks, and the cardigan she was wearing turned out to be too much for her now boiling body. Thoughts swirled so quickly that it was hard to catch them. Her mind raced, and it yelled. It yelled so loudly that it became silent, and everything went blank—as if her brain had finally given up on her.

“Sorry,” Harry said, dropping his hand and shaking his head. He shifted on the couch, then. Straightening his back, he turned sideways and fully faced her, then folded the leg that was closest to her body up on the couch and squeezed his ankle underneath his other knee. “Bet you didn’t think I could get this soppy, huh?”

Harry joked and chuckled.

Lia blinked a couple of times. He was trying to lighten up the conversation, she could tell, but there was no way she would just laugh. She didn’t want to.

So she shifted on the couch and mimicked his previous movements, turning around to fully face him and folding her closest leg to him under the other.

And that was all it needed for their legs to touch.

“Thank you.”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face, causing Lia’s mouth to curl up as well.

He raised his arm and placed it on top and along the backrest, invading not only all of her senses, but also her physical space.

Lia looked down and between them, watching the way their thighs were pressed against each other. Watching the way so many of her dreams were slightly coming true.

That is, until Harry spoke again.

“Let’s talk about Rohan,” he said, and Lia jolted her head up.

She scrunched her face up in confusion, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she was able to slowly breathe out one single word: “What?”

“Rohan, from the bar.”

“From the—” Lia shook her head, and the tone of her voice suddenly catched up with her emotions. “Of course I know who Rohan is! But what—You—Why would we even talk about him?!”

Harry shrugged, a playful and amused smirk crossing his face. “Because you two seem close… Have fun together…”

Lia gasped, her mouth falling open as one incredulous and single laugh bursted out from her chest.

“We barely— We just talk!”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

“So?” Lia scoffed discreetly, the sound getting caught on her throat. “That’s hardly having fun.”

“Hmm… Well, I don’t know. I just thought something would’ve happened between you two by now. That’s all.”

Lia flinched her chin back, eyebrows raising while she batted her eyelashes in disbelief.

“That’s—Again, what?!”

Harry shrugged, his expression getting serious as he looked away from her.

“He’s clearly into you,” he said. “You know that, c’mon. Thought you fancied him, too. That’s all.” Another shrug, and then, “Don’t you?”

“Oh my…” Lia whispered.

She furrowed her brows and dropped her chin down, once again looking at their thighs.

“I can’t believe this. Why… Why would you think that? That’s so… I mean, where did you get that stupid idea from? And why would you even bring it up right now?”

Her shoulders fell. And her body relaxed.

Damn. It felt so good to just say whatever was going through her head. At least for once.

“So… You don’t?”

Lia breathed in, and raised her chin.

Harry was looking at her again, but he kept narrowing his eyes, as if he was ready to call her out for lying.

He wasn’t teasing her.

Harry was actually doubting it.

He was actually after an answer.

Lia blinked. Multiple times. And then more laughter bursted out from deep inside her.

“Oh my God, Harry! No! Of course not!”

“You say it like it’s supposed to be obvious!”

Harry laughed, too—although from the way his voice wavered, it seemed more like nervous laughter. Or maybe a questioning one. Or a suspicious one.

Either way, it wasn’t actually joyful. It didn’t feel like it, at least.

So Lia pressed her lips together, then took another deep breath in.

Honestly, where was he coming from?

Had she ever done anything that could lead him to believe that? Because she was convinced she hadn’t. In fact, all along she had been afraid Harry would find out how attracted to him she was. Not to Rohan.

“Well… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “I don’t know, but to me it is pretty obvious… I mean… Why would I even be here if I fancied him?”

“Huh.” Harry raised his eyebrows.

He blinked once, and then squinted, focusing on her eyes as though he was trying to find the secret answer for an unasked question written deep inside them.

That whole interaction was too weird. And not at all what Lia was expecting for that night—or any other night, for that matter.

“I just…” she said, then paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Pressing her lips together, she batted her eyelashes and looked towards the back of the couch, targeting the wall. She sighed, and tried again. "I don’t… I don’t get why you thought I… That I wanted… But you didn’t notice that I—Y’know… That I… Ugh!"

Shaking her head, Lia took her hand to rub her forehead and chuckled. No matter how much she wanted to tell him, she couldn’t do it. She really couldn’t.

They were having such a great night…

What if she ruined everything?

What if she told him how much she fancied him and he decided to leave?

What if she decided to be open and honest about her feelings for him, and he turned her down?

She wouldn’t be able to talk to him again. She wouldn’t be able to look at him again. And she would never be able to get over the humiliation.

So she couldn’t risk it. She just couldn’t.

“Hey,” Harry said, placing his hand on top of hers.

Immediately, Lia loosened up. She relaxed the grip of her fingers, dropped her shoulders, and looked down at her lap.

And then, she frowned.

Apparently, she’d been gripping at her own hands, tightly squeezing them while completely unaware of it. Her muscles were sore, and there were small prints on the places where the tips of her fingers had sunk on her own skin.

“Lia…” Harry sneaked his fingertips underneath her palm, breaking her hands apart. “What’s going on? What were you going to say?”

“Uh… No—nothing.” Staring at their now connected hands, Lia shook her head. “Nothing, yeah. Forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon!” His voice was cheerful, almost playful. “Say it… Please?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Really.”

He kept his thumb on the back of her hand, gently and slowly caressing her skin.

And Lia focused on that. She watched the way he moved up and down. She absorbed how soft yet rought the brush of his finger felt. She appreciated how warm, large, and strong his hold felt.

“Lia…”

Harry tugged her hand, pulling it off from her lap and holding it against his chest.

The movement caused Lia to lean forward, and she looked at him.

Harry’s intense green eyes were truly, really hypnotizing.

She licked her lips, then softened her voice. “Just… Let it go… Please?”

Harry flickered his eyes between hers, and he studied her in silence for a moment.

Instead of making her uncomfortable, though, it gave her enough time to focus some more on physical things. Like how he kept holding her hand firmly inside his. Secure. Fully enveloping it while clutching her palm against the middle of his chest.

Lia was almost sure she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage, and the fabric of his t-shirt was right under her skin.

Without dragging her eyes away from his, she moved her own thumb up and down, too. It was a subtle and cautious movement, but enough to brush and feel the texture under the pad of her finger.

Harry curved one side of his mouth up, and gave her palm a little squeeze.

“Fine. I’ll forget about it.”

He lifted his free hand to his hair and pushed the short curls out of the way, then dropped his arm next to Lia’s shoulder.

After a moment of patient and quiet staring, he added, “You’re not awkward, you know? Or boring. And it’s not true that people don’t want to be friends with you.”

Lia pressed her lips together, straightened her back, and shifted backwards.

Right…

They were back to that, then.

It was nice of him to say that, sure it was, but she didn’t agree with his words. In fact, she couldn’t even believe he truly meant them. Not when, up until then, he had never cared about getting to know her.

On the other hand, she also wasn’t expecting him to throw her own words back at her, especially because weeks had already gone by since that embarrassing night.

Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath in.

God. She really didn’t want to think about that night, but there was a weight in her stomach, a heaviness she didn’t know how to get rid off, so she still found the strength to open up her mouth and say, “You never wanted to, tho, did you?”

Harry widened his eyes, and Lia looked down.

She focused on their still touching hands, then brushed off the weight of her words with a shrug. “I mean, it’s fine. I’m just saying.”

A couple of seconds passed without any answer, so Lia peeked at him through the corner of her eyes.

Harry was staring at where his other hand was, near her shoulder — with narrowed eyes, pursed lips and furrowed brows. He seemed lost inside his thoughts, and Lia rolled her lips into her mouth.

She hadn’t been wrong for pointing that out, right? It wasn’t like she wanted to, but more like she had to. More like she needed to. Because it was the truth, and it was what he had made her feel and believe all along, wasn’t it?

The fact that he had apologized to her didn’t erase the fact that he had made her snap in the first place. Right?

Or was she supposed to completely forget about that?

Harry sighed, and Lia blinked. She relaxed her jaw, darting her tongue through her lips as she focused on him again.

“That’s…” He paused, eyeing his thumb as he grazed it over her shoulder, on top of her cardigan. “It wasn’t like that. I’m just… I’m not good with people. That’s all.”

…

What?

Lia was glad he wasn’t looking at her face, because she couldn’t help but frown.

“Yes, you are,” she said, wandering her eyes around his distressed expression. “I’ve seen you with Rohan, and you’re good with him. You joke a lot, and you laugh, you offer your help when he needs it… And with Sage, I mean… I’ve only seen you around her a couple of times, but… You seemed to get along with her really quickly, so…”

The corner of Harry’s mouth turned up very slightly, only enough for her to notice it. Just like she noticed the way the muscles of his face relaxed, making all wrinkles disappear.

He tilted his head, and met her gaze.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked in a low and amused murmur, “How do you know that, huh? Have you been watching me?”

Shit.

“I… I mean…” Shit. Shit. Shit. “I think I…” Well, there was no point in denying it anymore, was there? “I have, yes. Yeah.”

Harry dropped their hands on his lap, then moved his thumb up and down, stroking the back of her hand.

“You have, huh?”

Lia shrugged. “Yeah…”

“Hmm… I never noticed.”

With another shrug, Lia looked away.

She wouldn’t answer that.

She already knew he’d never paid any attention to her, so of course he wouldn’t have noticed the way she watched him. The way she daydreamed about him.

There was no need to point that out, though.

“Still,” Harry added, “Rohan is probably just an exception.”

“Right… And Sage?”

“Just another exception.”

Lia snorted. And chuckled.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a moment.

She needed to organize her thoughts and memories, because she knew that wasn’t the truth. She’d watched him for long enough to know that he was a joyful and caring person, but she didn’t know if that was something she should let him know, or not.

When she opened her eyes again, she met his calm and gentle stare. She bit her lip and leaned her side against the pillows, resting her shoulder under his stretched arm.

Harry kept moving his thumb gently on the back of her hand. Simply watching her.

He didn’t seem bothered by the time it took her to answer, nor seemed to be about to rush her.

It was different from what she was used to. Coming from him, sure, but in general, too. And it caused the words to simply roll out of her mouth.

“I just… I’ve seen you around people, and… I don’t know…I used to see you with that girl… Well, that woman, y’know? And you always seemed so gentle to her… I mean, a gentleman, really, and I—”

Harry shifted, suddenly and abruptly. He withdrew his arm from the couch and looked away from her, then rubbed his finger under his nose.

Lia pressed her lips together, stopping herself from talking even further.

She’d said something wrong, hadn’t she?

She totally had.

Of course she had.

She looked down at her lap, biting the inside of her bottom lip.

Harry was still holding her, but he had stopped brushing his thumb on the back of her hand.

And she didn’t want him to stop. She really didn’t.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I—” Shit. “I shouldn’t have said that… That was just… I didn’t— I mean—”

Shit.

What was she supposed to say now?

She had gone too far.

She knew that.

She knew she had entered a touchy subject.

Of course she had.

Honestly… What was wrong with her? Why would she even bring that woman up? Why would she bring someone Harry used to date up into their conversation? Why would she—Oh shit. What if… Wait, were they still together? Were they still a couple? The idea hadn’t crossed her mind… She hadn’t seen her at the bar anymore, so she’d just assumed and— Shit.

She looked up at him.

“Are you… You and that woman… Do you still… Are you two…”

“I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh. Okay. So… Is it over? Between you two?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s over, yeah. Look, I don’t… We haven’t seen each other for a couple of months now and… Yeah, it’s over. I’m not going back to that.”

Lia sighed through her nose. Emptying her lungs all at once.

At least, when he spoke, he kept his eyes on her. And Lia knew he was being honest, she recognized the struggle to let something out of your mind.

She didn’t mean to pry, though. All she needed to know was if Harry was cheating on someone or not. And if he wasn’t, then that was enough for her. It’s not like she was planning on telling him about her own ex-boyfriend, or the few horrible one night stands she had before moving to that building. She wasn’t ready to share that much, so… Yeah, Lia understood him.

“It’s fine.” She curled her mouth up, wanting to go back to playful smiles and soft touches. “We don’t have to talk about it. Honestly. I just wanted to know if you were… You know, cheating or something.”

As soon as the last words left her mouth, Lia saw Harry flinch. His eyes darted to their laps and his shoulders tensed, and it was very obvious that she had hit a nerve there. Another nerve.

It didn’t seem like something that made him angry, though. He didn’t look like someone who was about to yell or get into a fight. He looked… Sad? Ashamed? He looked like someone who really needed a hug. And that made Lia’s heart drop.

Had Harry’s heart been broken, just like hers?

Even worse, had Harry’s trust been broken, just like hers?

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I just… I meant… God. I keep messing it up, but… I swear in the end all I wanted to say is that I’ve seen you around other people, and that I always thought you seemed to be really nice… And like… A fun person to be around, y’know? Like, you seemed really sweet, and… I don’t know. Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Harry took his free hand to cover his mouth and cough, clearing his throat.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s just… She’s a complicated story and I wasn’t expecting this to come up so… Bad reaction on my side. Sorry.”

Lia sighed.

“I should’ve just… All I meant is that you seem good with people. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well…” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It takes a lot of effort, I think.”

His voice sounded lower and deeper, and Lia recognized the vulnerability in it. It felt as if he was confessing something to her, as if he was sharing a hidden part of him with her.

Lia also recognized the struggle he had just described, and how real the statement was — interacting with people truly took a lot of effort for her, too. To the point where most of the time she chose to not interact at all.

“Yeah,” she said, so soft it felt almost like a whisper, “I know what you mean.”

Harry peeked at her from the corner of his eyes, pulling his lips into a thankful smile, then looked away again. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t place his arm by her shoulder anymore, and he also didn’t brush his thumb against her knuckles anymore. He just seemed lost inside his mind.

It was easy to tell, because Lia also recognized what that looked like. What that felt like.

Apparently, the table had turned between them, and she felt the urge to make him feel better—just like he had made her feel better earlier that day.

Did Harry feel as lonely as she felt?

Gulping down, Lia looked at their still connected hands. His entire body language had changed, but he hadn’t let go of her, he hadn’t stopped touching her.

Her lips turned up into a smile, and she bit her lip.

Tightening her hand around his, she squeezed his fingers. She watched as she moved her own thumb up and down on the back of his hand — brushing slowly, from his wrist and up to his knuckle.

Silence engulfed them comfortably, all while she steadily moved her thumb up and down.

Up and down.

Up… And down…

Up…

And down…

His skin was warm and smooth under her fingertip. And the idea of pressing a kiss to his cross tattoo kept flying through her mind.

So she took a deep breath, then blinked a couple of times — because no matter how tempting it was, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to take the risk.

“I knew your name from the first day, y’know?” Harry said.

Lia drew her eyebrows together, and lifted her head to look at him.

“What?”

Harry shrugged, then curled the corner of his mouth up. “That day… When you said I never cared to know your name? That wasn’t true. I just never asked because I didn’t need to… I asked Rohan to ask you.”

Lia dropped her mouth open and widened her eyes.

When she spoke, though, her voice was barely a shocked whisper, “No you didn’t.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head and looking away for a moment. His smile was big to the point of showing off his teeth, and his eyes were practically fully closed, creating wrinkles around them.

His reaction was so genuine…

And apparently contagious, too, because before Lia could prevent it, her lips had already turned up into a foolish, big, and stupid grin as well.

“I did, yeah. However…” He looked back at her. “I gotta be honest with you… That wouldn’t have happened if I’d known you two would end up fancying each other.”

“Oh my God!” Lia dropped her head back with a groan. Again? Really?! “Harry… C’mon…”

“What?” He laughed.

Lia looked down and back at him, trying her best to hide the annoyance out of her face — although she could feel it in her body as she breathed out and loudly through her nose.

“We don’t fancy each other.”

“Mhm. You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you his favorite customer, tho?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, but he definitely isn’t my favo—”

Shit.

Harry tilted his head, then lifted his lips up in a smirk.

“He isn’t what? Your favorite?”

Lia snorted, then tried to pull her hand away from his.

Harry didn’t let her, though.

“Who’s your favorite, then?”

“This is… This is just… It’s just ridiculous, y’know?”

Harry hummed.

“Maybe. I don’t know. For what’s worth, I still think he fancies you, but…”

With a dramatic pause, he leaned forward, as if he was about to make the most important point of the night, or as if he was about to share the deepest secret of their lives.

Lia swallowed.

He was so close. He hadn’t shaved in a while, because his stubble had gotten longer around his mouth and along his cheeks. It looked messy, almost kind of dirty, but also extremely sexy on him.

And his lips…

Oh God… Harry’s lips were so… Attractive. They looked soft, smooth, and gentle. They weren��t the biggest or plumpest she’d ever seen, but she had certainly never wanted to kiss someone’s lips so badly like she wanted to kiss his.

“I’m happy to know you don’t fancy him,” Harry said, his voice a tone or two lower than before.

And the way they moved…

“You are?” she murmured.

“Mhmm…”

What would it feel like to kiss him?

What would it feel like to taste his lips?

Because she wanted to.

So bad…

She wanted to taste his lips.

She wanted to touch his face.

She wanted to feel his scruff under her skin.

What if she did?

What if she extended her arm and brushed her fingers against his cheek? Over his facial hair?

Would it be soft?

Would it be scratchy?

“Hey there,” Harry said, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His touch was both rough and delicate, holding her into place and drawing her attention back to his eyes while still being careful not to hurt her. “You seem distracted.”

Her skin tingled, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Shit.

The smirk on his face and the tone of his voice were enough to let her know he’d seen her staring at his lips.

And Lia didn’t—Shit.

She was supposed to say something.

She knew she was supposed to say something.

But every fiber of her body quivered with nervousness, and all words got stuck in her throat.

And the way he kept looking at her…

Fuck.

Looking at her with those patient and soft green eyes…

As if he had all the time in the world to stare at her…

Or as if he had all the time in the world to wait for a proper reaction…

Shit.

Lia’s brain was frozen.

She had been physically attracted to him for such a long time, always watching from far away and never able to see him up close. To really see him…

And he was being so nice to her…

So, so nice…

Beyond what she could’ve ever imagined he would be…

She didn’t want to misinterpret his intentions, though… Or get her hopes up…

She didn’t want to overstep…

And yet…

How could she even misinterpret his intentions, when he was right there, acting like that?

Looking at her like that?

Oh God.

Lia’s breath quickened, just like her heartbeat.

She wanted him. So much. She truly wanted him.

Her chest tightened so hard that it was almost painful, like she needed to release the tension somehow or she would explode. She could feel it bobbing up and down in double quick time, just like she could feel her pulse throbbing not only against her ribcage, but also inside her throat and her stomach. And all over her legs. And right into her… Fuck.

She clenched the muscles of her thighs, and swiftly shifted on the couch.

“Lia…”

She needed a distraction.

She needed to divert her mind from how much she wanted him. And she needed to pay attention to something that wasn’t his intense eyes burning into hers.

She needed to say something.

“Lia, hey…”

Anything.

C’mon.

Just say something.

Lia…

Say it.

Say it!

“I always wanted to see your tattoos!” she blurted, although a little bit louder than she intended to. “Just…” She cleared her throat. “Y’know… Up close.”

There was a pause. A loud and meaningful pause, as a heartbeat coming back to life.

She swallowed hard.

And then Harry’s expression softened, and his mouth turned into a smile.

A smile that genuinely lighted up his face.

A smile so sincere and spontaneous that it slowly caused Lia to smile, too.

So they both stared at each other, and smiled at each other.

Widely, openly, and simply.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Well… That worked out just fine, didn’t it?

She nodded.

“Mhmm…”

Harry went back to his previous position, letting her chin go and casually placing his elbow on the backrest of the couch. Then, without dropping the hold of her hand, he stretched his left arm and offered it to her. “You can look at them now, if you want.”

“Really?”

He brushed his thumb up and down the back of her hand and nodded.

“Of course. All yours.”

Lia nibbled her bottom lip and, without giving him any other answer, slid her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then directly to the sleek lines of his arm.

Scanning the black ink covering most of the skin, she didn’t waste any more time before taking her free hand to his left wrist. As soon as she touched him, her fingertips tickled. She slid her tongue between her lips and outlined his anchor tattoo with delicacy, dancing with the tip of her index on top of his tender and smooth skin.

Next, she moved on to some very tiny tattoos, brushing each one while she tried to make sense of them. There didn’t seem to be a connection between the different drawings or words, but they somehow still fit together.

Reaching the side of his forearm, she traced a mermaid, then leaned forward when she couldn’t see the entire silhouette.

With a deep breath, she moved her soft touch upwards, reaching his rose tattoo.

That one seemed older, as if the ink had faded already.

She could still see it perfectly, though.

Drawing her index finger over the stem, she traced it from the bottom and up to the petals, then back half-way down to follow the path to the two leaves.

She took her time with that one, tracing it so carefully and so attentively that it felt bigger than it looked.

She was enjoying the moment. Too much, to be honest. It felt intimate… Better than she could’ve ever imagined.

Her fingertips went from tingling to burning, and when she noticed that their deep and slow breaths were the only sound echoing inside her living room, her stomach bubbled.

Light-headed, it took her a while to finish. She wanted to give equal attention to each one of the petals, but she also didn’t want to ever stop touching him. She wanted to get even closer, and she wanted to get to know him even more.

Would other parts of him feel the same?

Would he ever let her explore his entire body like that? With the same discretion and delicacy?

Would he ever let her admire and adore every inch of him?

Would he ever let her know every part of his life?

Lia was almost getting to his elbow, finishing his rose, when Harry shivered under her touch. She paused her movements and looked up, meeting his determined and fervent stare.

He was breathing steadily through his parted lips, and he seemed flushed.

Lia’s heartbeat sped up again, and she bit back a smile — was he enjoying all of it as much as she was?

Shit.

She hoped he was.

He was so pretty.

And she wanted him. She really wanted him.

She felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. She just did — she wanted him.

She really-fucking wanted him.

She wanted to hug him tightly, she wanted to lay on his chest, and she wanted to tangle their legs together. She wanted to snuggle on his lap, press her nose under his jaw, and smell the curve of his neck. She wanted to visit every corner of his body, kiss every spot along the journey, and taste every flavor of his soul.

And it was scary, because she couldn’t remember ever wanting someone that much.

She couldn’t remember a time in her life when her entire body had ached to touch someone. To kiss someone.

She had never felt that desire burning up through her veins, tingling down her toes, blazing up her fingers.

She had never experienced an overpowering feeling like that.

To want someone like that. To need someone like that. To desire someone like that.

Like she wanted him. Like she needed him. Like she desired him.

So bad.

So, so bad.

Shit…

She bit her lip.

What was she supposed to do with all those feelings?

She grazed her fingers over the hem of his sleeve, then kept her hand on his arm, wrapping it around where the fabric ended and his bare skin began.

“Where…” Lia murmured, almost out of breath. “Where do they end?”

Harry blinked, then cleared his throat.

His voice was also barely a whisper when he answered, “My tattoos?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Oh…” She glanced to where her hand was, then bit her lip. “Okay…”

She didn’t want to get her hopes too high up, but it seemed like Harry was just as affected as she was. The atmosphere and the interaction between them had turned into something different. Something exciting. She had no doubts about it. She knew she wasn’t the only one feeling something. She knew he would say yes to whatever she asked.

For the first time, she couldn’t even question it. She just knew it.

Harry sighed. It was enough to get her attention back, but he still moved his free hand back to her chin, once again encouraging her to stare into his eyes.

“You’re just so…”

“W—what?”

“Beautiful.”

Lia’s stomach swirled.

Tightening the grip on her chin and slightly pinching her skin, Harry used the tip of his thumb to touch her lips, caressing them with a stroke that went from one side to the other. He went back and forth a couple of times, then stopped precisely on top of her cupid’s bow. When he pressed his finger down, and into her closed mouth, time stopped around them.

Lia watched him breathlessly through glossy eyes, whilst Harry immersed himself into his very own movements.

He brushed his other four fingers towards her neck, invading the side of her throat. Then, he slid his thumb down, and pulled her bottom lip along with it.

He stared at the way his fingertip glided through her warm, pink and damp flesh; getting wet from the ring of his finger to the tip of his nail.

Frozen, speechless, and out of breath, Lia lost herself in time, not even remembering what they’d been talking about or how they’d gotten themselves into that situation. Or how long they’d spent in that same position, sitting on her couch.

As soon as his thumb reached her chin and he let go of her mouth, Harry batted his eyelashes, dragging the tip of his tongue in between his own lips and licking them.

And then, still hypnotized in her mouth, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Lia nodded, because it was all she trusted she could do.

And Harry sighed, dragging his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her forward.

He leaned to meet her halfway, closing his eyes and pursing his lips before crushing their mouths together. His lips were cold and wet, and he didn’t move them against hers, just like she didn’t move hers against his. They simply remained forcefully pressed against each other, as if their mouths connecting was intense enough to freeze them both.

After a moment, Harry softened the grip on her and pulled away from her mouth.

The sound of their lips disconnecting echoed in her apartment, vibrating into Lia’s chest and mind. Only then she took in what had just happened, and she gasped quietly, drawing a deep, audible breath in.

Harry blinked.

“Lia, I’m—”

Cradling his cheeks, Lia leaned back in, closing her eyes and pressing her mouth against his once again. Their lips fit perfectly this time, molding around each other as she took his upper lip between hers and slightly sucked it into her mouth. Without rushing, she darted her tongue over his flesh and savored him, finally getting a taste of what she’d been craving for so long.

Her belly fluttered as her body reacted to the minty, juicy, and warm sensation. Something she could only describe as delicious, addictive, and magnetic.

With a gentle bite, she pulled away and blinked, letting his lip slide slowly through her teeth as she created some distance between them. When she looked at him, she found him frozen in place with closed eyes and parted lips, breathing out small puffs of air that made Lia ache for his mouth all over again.

“What?” she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. “What were you going to say?”

Harry fluttered his eyelashes open, but only for half a second, immediately shaking his head and going back in for a new kiss. He didn’t hold back, then, nor wasted any more time, sliding his palm down her spine and crossing both of his arms around her waist whilst dipping his tongue between her lips and searching for hers.

And Lia gave in just as quickly and just as desperately, granting him free access as she met his tongue with her own and moved along with his body, putting both of her legs up and kneeling on the couch.

There was a new sense of urgency between them. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, meeting over and over again for desperate kisses that erased all of her doubts and paused all of her thoughts.

His mouth was tender, and yet hungry for her. He explored her with the same curiosity, desire and need she explored him, tugging her closer whilst shifting to get closer as well.

Her belly bubbled and swirled. Sweat dripped down her neck, and a wave of annoyance quivered through her. It was too good to be true, and yet it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She needed more.

So she pulled away and broke the kiss, straightening up and moving her arms to take her damn-freaking-useless cardigan off.

Everything happened so fast that she barely acknowledged Harry’s help, or the way he smiled at her reaction. All she noticed was how he dropped the item on the floor and didn’t miss a beat before launching himself onto her neck, spreading open-mouthed kisses while sneaking his hands under her tank-top and pressing his palms onto her back.

Following his pace, Lia threaded her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes, relishing on his actions. Harry shifted backwards, and without even once breaking them apart, he squared his shoulders with the back of the couch and pulled Lia along, guiding her to climb on top of him.

Lia held herself onto him and kneeled on the cushion, swinging one leg over his lap before easing her weight down and landing on his thighs. It was all he needed to be able to taste her skin with the same urgency he’d tasted her mouth. Burying his nose, parting his lips and poking his tongue out. Sinking his fingertips into her sides while shifting the brush of his scruff up to her jaw, then further down to her ear.

And then a soft, unexpected moan vibrated in the back of her throat, and Harry stopped moving.

“Damn,” he breathed into her neck, then dragged his mouth up and back to hers. “C’mere.”

He kissed her eagerly and passionately, taking his hands up to the back of her head and getting his fingers tangled with her hair. Then pulling her closer and right onto his lap.

The new pressure between her legs spurred another moan from Lia’s chest, which was quickly muffled by their twined, impatient tongues. And by the way Harry sighed into her mouth.

He untangled his fingers from her hair and wandered both of his hands through her back, tracing roughly all of her curves before landing on her bum. He spread his hand open and gave her ass a rough squeeze, then directed her to adjust on top of him and roll just the tiniest bit on his length.

The new friction was enough to smudge her wetness over him, and a delicious throb and shudder shot through her body. She moaned louder this time, and a low and guttural sound rasped in the back of Harry’s throat.

“Keep going,” he mumbled. “Yeah?”

With a nod, Lia placed her arms around his neck, turning her building emotions into a desperate hug before unashamedly rolling her hips once, twice, and thrice.

Shit.

Knowing he was getting hard was hot, but being able to feel him getting hard as she pleasured herself on it was on a whole other level. It turned every sensation into flames, and it made everything inside her combust.

And apparently it made Harry go feral as well. Wandering his hands all over her body, capturing every inch of her. Squeezing her waist, exploring her chest, grasping her thighs, sliding to her bum and clinging to it while scooching down on the couch and guiding her to keep rocking back and forth.

Harry was in charge, there was no doubt of that. He guided their kisses skillfully — with a mix of hunger, lusciousness and softness. He moved vehemently, devouring her tenderly and yet with no mercy at all. He tasted fresh, and sweet, and powerful. Pulling away for half a second only to tilt his head to the opposite side and start all over again.

Lia had never been kissed like that, and she already knew she would never be kissed like that again. The way he grabbed her — so tightly — and the hungry sounds in the back of his throat — so manly — made her body ache for more. Pleasure pulsed through every single one of her veins, and everything burned. Burned. And burned.

Dropping her hands down his chest, Lia tugged at the fabric of his t-shirt and helped him get rid of it. Just as easily and hurriedly as they’d gotten rid of her cardigan. And then Harry dropped both hands to the hem of her top and tugged it up, too.

“Off?”

Lia nodded and lifted her arms, and soon the item was thrown somewhere she couldn’t see and Harry’s mouth was attached to her breast. And also his hand. With every single one of his fingers digging into her.

She sighed, and perhaps she even quietly moaned, too.

It was just so unexpected and so… Good.

So, so good.

The way he sucked her in and flicked his tongue — up and down, side to side. The way he sank his teeth, meanwhile squeezed his hand around the other one. The way he pinched. Teased. Played with it. With them. With her.

“Oh God,” escaped through her mouth, and Lia bit her lip. Embarrassment quickly spread through her face, so she pressed her cheek on the top of his head and looked away. Hiding from him.

Harry let go of her with a pop and one last flick of his tongue, then crossed his arms around her back. He kissed her chest, and her shoulder, and her neck. Trailing a wet path all the way to her ear.

“You sound really nice,” he murmured. “And I’m so turned on right now… But I don’t… I don’t have a condom with me.”

Lia pulled away from the position she was in and shook her head.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d bought a condom.

“Me neither.”

She leaned in, searching for his lips and kissing him again.

Harry kissed her back, until he twisted his fingers around her hair and yanked her away from his mouth.

“We can’t…” he breathed out. “We can’t keep going without a condom.”

Lia blinked and looked at him.

Harry sat underneath her. His lips were wet and swollen from so much kissing. His hair was disheveled and untamed. And his t-shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“I—I know, but…”

She slid her palms down his chest — his solid, warm, hairy chest.

God, she was so, so needy. She couldn’t stop now. She didn’t want to stop now. She was so lost in pleasure. So lost in how he looked. How he tasted. How he sounded. How he smelled. So lost in how he made her feel, and so incredibly aware of how her deepest dreams were finally — finally — coming true. Of how much she wanted him.

So, so lost, and so, so aware, that funnily enough she didn’t even notice when she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, then held onto his neck and resumed the rolling of her hips — back and forth, back and forth.

“Can’t we just…” Lia murmured, then stopped to bite her lip and hum.

“Jesus Christ.” He crossed his arms around her back and kissed her. “We can. Yeah. We sure can.”

He squeezed his hands around her, constantly guiding her to keep grinding on him, and soon the entire living room was filled with their urgency. And the urgency between them was filled with pure determination. And their determination was made of hurried breathings, dizzy groans, and hot moans. And everything became so intense and so greedy that it suddenly became extremely uncoordinated, and Lia couldn’t focus on kissing him anymore, and she had absolutely no idea what she was doing with her hands anymore.

Harry must’ve sensed her, because he was quick to crawl one hand up her spine and place it on the back of her head, entangling his fingers with her hair and keeping her face close to his. At the same time, he kept his other arm firm and secure around her waist, and made sure she wouldn’t break their closeness, nor stop the back and forth of her hips.

Dizzy, Lia hummed another moan. She rested her forehead against his, smudging their noses together while they breathed from each other’s mouths. She blinked, and through blurry eyes watched Harry’s eyebrows pulled together, and his eyelids shut tightly. He kept his lips parted while he panted, breathlessly just like her, and then he tightened his hold on her, scooched even further down the couch, and thrusted his hips up, meeting the rolling of her hips.

His hardness stroked exactly where Lia needed him the most, and her entire body jolted.

With a moan, she placed her hands on the back of the couch to hold herself and closed her eyes, concentrating on how incredibly good he felt between her legs.

“Fuck,” Harry’s husky voice grunted, his hot breath hitting her mouth and cheek. “That’s… That’s it. C’mon.”

Lia felt him vibrating all over her body, and electricity blasted her senses.

It was maddening, and agonizing.

It was addictive, and satisfying.

Harry’s body kept stroking and rubbing the right place between her legs, the one she needed for the bubble of tension and pleasure to grow. It spread to her lower back, her belly, her chest, her core. It caused Lia to squeeze her eyes, to furrow her brows, and to tremble. It prompted her to move faster. And also to straighten up a little, shoving her chest onto Harry’s face as she moved her hips to find the constant pressure on that exact wonderful spot she needed to finally explode.

As soon as she found the position she was looking for, she grasped onto the couch and focused on pressing down — pressing down, down, and down, while rolling more, more, and more.

“Fucks sake you’re so hot,” he breathed out, digging his hands into her thighs and his lips all above and around her breasts. He thrusted up to meet her again, gripping and squeezing as she lost the strength and coordination of her body. “Don’t stop. C’mon.”

“Oh my—”

Letting her mouth fall open, Lia cried a gasped moan into the top of his head. A mix between shock, euphoria, and need.

She shut her eyes tightly and shivered, squeezing his waist between her thighs and falling onto him while every single one of her muscles contracted and relaxed all at once.

Frantic.

Shattering.

Fiery.

Pleasure rippled through her. It waved all over — from her belly, to her cheeks, to her toes.

Everything went dark as the thrill and the fizz took over every inch of her. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a while since she’d been with someone, and even longer since she’d had an orgasm while being with someone, so it made sense that her feelings were so intense. Or that her exhausted body couldn’t handle the sensitivity.

So she nuzzled on his neck and embraced the bliss, catching up her breath while he guided her to ride out the high with slow and gentle touches.

But then, Harry cursed.

He shifted slightly underneath her, grunted, cursed again, and then apologized.

Lia opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times to focus on her surroundings. Harry’s neck was all she could see, though. Pretty, smooth, sweaty skin of his neck. The urge to kiss him was instant, so she licked her lips, snuggled closer, and pressed her mouth to the side of his throat.

Harry squeezed her hips and thrusted up, his covered length sliding onto Lia’s front.

“Fuck. Shit—Sorry.” He chuckled, saying the same words for what felt like the hundredth time. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“S’okay…” Lia murmured, sliding her hands from his shoulders to his chest. Her lips brushed his skin as they moved, and she took the opportunity to kiss it again, and again.

“I’m just… I’m really hard right now…” he confessed the obvious, dropping his head back and grunting to the ceiling. “Shit.”

He shifted again. As if trying to get away from the friction. Or maybe searching to get some more of it.

Lia hummed, slithering her fingers further down his upper body while she scooched backwards on his thighs.

As soon as she reached his high-waisted pants, Harry jolted. He circled her wrists with one hand and squeezed her hip with the other, warning with a chuckle. “Lia…”

He never stopped her, though. So she brushed her nose up and down his neck, and drifted her fingers smoothly along the black fabric.

“What?” she whispered, then pressed a kiss right under his ear. “Want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

Lia smiled.

Turning her hand upside down, she covered his bulge and stroked him over his pants. Once, and twice.

At that, Harry moaned.

The sound was so husky, so low and so manly, and yet so vulnerable and so weak at the same time, that it prompted her to repeat the movement. Again. And again.

Even through the fabric of clothes, he felt amazing under her palm—long, thick, and firm.

Lia could only imagine what he would look like, or even taste like. And so she asked, repeating the same question he’d breathed out earlier, “Off?”

Harry barely nodded once before he was already shifting and unbuttoning his pants, and he didn’t even have time to pull his briefs down before Lia’s hand was already working on him. Each time with more strength and confidence. Over and over. Licking her palm to make it easier. Better. Brushing around his tip. Twisting here and there. Squeezing and gripping as she moved up and down.

“Holy shit.” He bucked his hips forward, then covered her hand with his, panting heavily while guiding her touch.

Lia hummed. Parting her lips, she pressed her mouth to his jaw, then slid her tongue to taste the scratchiness of his facial hair.

He moaned again, and then he took his free hand up, ranking his fingers through her hair and yanking her head away from where he couldn’t see her.

“Kiss me,” he murmured, directing her face to his and drawing her in to get exactly what he wanted.

Lia’s response was immediate, losing herself with his mind-numbing, sloppy, and harsh mouth. Kissing the hell out of him while he writhed and struggled beneath her. Going along with the urgent pace of his hand and swallowing each one of his raspy curses and low rumbled moans. Whimpering along when he drove their connected hands from his base to his head, and then back to his base. Or when he squeezed her hand so they could squeeze himself together, or when he stroked further down and managed to focus on other sensitive parts of him.

The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he sounded, the way he felt. Watching him, listening to him, and helping him as he crumbled beneath her with pure and raw pleasure. Everything was so powerful that she wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up leading her into another orgasm.

And then every muscle of his body tensed as he pulsed one last time and growled with pleasure.

Lia broke the kiss and pulled away, keeping the pace of her hand and watching the way his mouth fell open, how he furrowed his brows while shutting his eyelids tightly, and how he shuddered underneath her touch. And just like that, the mess was all over her, and him.

The sight was so intense and intimate, that it filled her heart with emotion. So Lia took her free hand to his face, cradled his cheek, and kissed him again. Capturing his bottom lip between hers, sucking it into her mouth, and pouring him with affection.

Harry hummed, closing his mouth around her upper one while slowly coming down from his own high.

He sounded content, and relaxed. And a happy smile bursted out from Lia’s chest, inevitably breaking their kiss.

Smiling as well, Harry leaned in to peck her mouth one more time and pulled away, collapsing onto the couch.

“Holy shit…” he chuckled, breathlessly and quietly. Only for them to hear. “Just… Just so you know… Tomorrow morning I’m going out… And getting us some bloody fucking condoms, ok?”

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #this is it for now #there's only so much i can embarrass myself without caring too much about it hehe

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hoe4hotchner · 3 days

Text

With blood on his hands | [A.H]

Pairing: UnSub!Hotch x gn!reader CW: Dark. This story contains descriptions of graphic violence, murder, mental illness, grief, and emotional distress. Dark themes, betrayal, loss of control, and fear, kidnapping, physical aggression, helplessness. WC: 5.2k

Please don't request a part 2 unless you have a very specific idea, my brain physically couldn't come up with more plot for this.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Bearing signs of life throughout the whole layout of the building, yet the disturbing truth of what had happened made you uneasy.

It was the same scene they’d encountered twice already - an all-American family, slaughtered in their home, with no apparent struggle, no clear motive. A mother, a father, and their young son, all lying lifeless, their blood staining the carpets, their lives ruthlessly cut short.

You stood beside Rossi, your hands clad in gloves, and a frown etched upon your face as you surveyed the scene. The scent of blood and suffering hung heavy in the air, choking your senses. You had seen your fair share of horrors, but this was different. This unsub was different.

"Third one this week," Rossi murmured beside you, his voice gruff with exhaustion and irritation, feeling the weight of the case starting to take its toll. "We need to catch this guy before he strikes again."

You nodded, eyes scanning the room as your mind worked through the details. This unsub wasn’t just killing; he was destroying. The brutality of the murders suggested rage - deep and personal rage. There was a familiarity to the way everything was laid out that you couldn't put a finger on.

You stepped over to the nightstand, where the mother’s jewelry lay scattered. Your eyes caught a golden ring, glinting in the light. You reached for it instinctively, feeling a strange pull toward the piece of metal. It was simple but familiar, in a way that made your stomach churn with suspicion.

Frowning, you held it up to the light, inspecting it. That’s when it hit you like a punch to the gut.

You knew this ring.

Your blood ran cold as memories flooded your mind. Years of working alongside him, watching him fiddle with that exact band on long nights at the office, lost in thought as he processed information and clues. You had seen it on his finger countless times.

Hotch.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a dizzying sense of disbelief washing over you. There was no way. No possible way. You told yourself it was a mistake, that the stress of the case was playing tricks on your mind.

But the more you stared at the ring, the more your instincts screamed at you.

You weren't wrong about this.

You swallowed hard, slipping the ring back onto the dresser. Rossi hadn’t noticed your reaction, he was busy analyzing the scene with his usual calm efficiency. You forced yourself to stay composed, your mind racing.

The families. The pattern. A mother, a father, and a young son. Haley and Jack. It was so obvious.

It all clicked into place with horrifying clarity. Hotch's stressor… the deaths of his family. You remembered the way he had shut down after losing them, how the grief had changed him. But never in your worst nightmares could you have imagined this. This was not the man you knew.

You took a shaky breath, your mind spinning. You couldn’t tell Rossi - not yet - he wouldn't believe you. Wouldn't believe that his oldest friend was capable of this. Not until you were sure. Not until you’d seen Aaron, looked him in the eyes, and confronted him yourself. You owed him that much.

"Dave," you said, forcing your voice to stay steady, "I’m going to head out. I need to check something."

He glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. "You okay? You look pale."

"I’m fine," you lied, offering a weak smile. "Just need to follow up on a hunch."

Rossi nodded, distracted by something on the floor, and you took the opportunity to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. You could barely keep your hands from trembling as you made your way out of the house and into your car. Thankfully you had arrived separately.

The drive to Aaron’s old house felt like a blur, your mind spinning with possibilities. Every part of you hoped you were wrong. That this was all some horrible mistake, that there was no way the man you had worked with for years could be behind these murders, that this was truly just some twisted dream, and that you'd wake up soon.

But deep down, you knew.

This was reality.

When you pulled up to Aaron’s house, the pit in your stomach deepened. His car was in the driveway, the lights inside the house dim and all the curtains closed. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm. You had to confront him. You had to know the truth.

You walked up to the door, every step feeling like a death sentence. When you knocked, there was a long pause. Then the door creaked open, revealing Aaron, standing in the doorway. He looked disheveled, his eyes dark and sunken, the weight of grief and something darker pressing down on him.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice low and rough. "What are you doing here?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You stared at him, your heart racing as you noticed the subtle signs - the tension in his posture, the way his hands flexed at his sides. And most of all, the unmistakable wedding band missing from his finger.

"I…" you began, your voice trembling. "I need to talk to you."

Aaron’s eyes flickered, something unreadable passing behind them. He stepped aside, letting you in without a word. You walked into the house, the air thick with tension, your nerves screaming at you to turn around and leave, to get out while you still had the chance. But you couldn’t. Not now.

As you stepped further into the room, your eyes landed on something that made your stomach drop - on the kitchen counter, barely noticeable, was a small streak of blood. Fresh blood.

Aaron closed the door behind you, the sound echoing ominously through the quiet house.

"You shouldn’t have come here," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, the realization crashing down on you with terrifying certainty. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t just your old colleague. He wasn’t just the man that had been your boss. He was the unsub you were looking for. He was the monster you’d been chasing.

And now, you were alone with him.

Hotch stood over the lifeless body sprawled across the floor in his living room, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his knuckles bruised and bloody. The man beneath him had been dead for several minutes now, his face a mangled mess of flesh and bone, barely recognizable.

Hotch’s fists clenched and unclenched, the blood dripping from his fingers painting the carpet with small, crimson pools. His heart was pounding, not from fear or guilt, but from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. He should have felt something - regret, remorse, shame—but there was only emptiness. Nothingness. And rage.

The rage never left him. It simmered beneath the surface, a constant presence, threatening to consume him whole. After Haley and Jack, everything had spiraled. Their deaths had shattered the last bit of humanity he had clung to. He had tried, God knows he had tried, to be the man everyone needed. The leader. The protector. But after them, something inside him had broken, irreparably so.

At first, he had managed to keep it hidden. But over time, the mask had slipped, the cracks becoming impossible to cover. The anger had grown, festering like a disease, until it had taken over every part of him. It was easier this way. Easier to stop pretending to be the good guy, the man who saved lives, when all he wanted to do was destroy them.

Besides the way he had hurt Foyet had felt so good.

He turned his head, his gaze cold and calculating, as a knock landed on the door.

The scent of sweat hung thick in the air, and the room was suffocating with the tension of your predicament.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock, taking in the scene before you. The man on the ground, the blood, the violence. And Hotch. Not a single drop could be seen on his clothes. Only his hands bore signs of the crime. Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. You were frozen, paralyzed by the realization of what you were seeing. What he had done.

Hotch stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. The look on your face - the fear, the disbelief - only fueled the fire inside him. For a moment, there was silence, an unbearable tension hanging between the two of you.

Then, he spoke. His voice was low, a growl barely restrained by the thin thread of control he had left within him.

“You really shouldn’t have come here.” He repeated his previous statement

You blinked, finally finding your voice. “Aaron... what have you done? This isn't you.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something unrecognizable. He took a step toward you, the cold gleam in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. “I did what needed to be done.”

You could barely breathe, your mind racing as you tried to process what had happened. This wasn’t the man you knew. The man you had worked with for years, the man you had trusted. The man you had secretly loved. He terrified you now. This was someone else entirely - a predator, who was cold and unfeeling.

“Aaron, please...” Your voice shook as you took a step back, instinctively retreating from the danger that loomed before you. “You don’t have to do this.”

His eyes flashed with anger, and in an instant, he was on you, his hand gripping your arm with a force that made you wince. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell me what I have to do. You don't know anything”

You swallowed hard, trying to remain calm despite the fear coursing through you. “This isn’t you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re not a killer.”

His grip tightened, and you gasped, pain shooting through you as you felt him slightly twisting your arm. “Aren’t I?” His voice was sharp and dangerous. “Do you know what it feels like, to lose everything? Watching them die? Knowing you couldn’t stop it? Knowing that you weren't fast enough?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away from him, but his hold was unrelenting. “Aaron, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “This won’t bring them back. What Foyet did was terrible.”

For a moment, you thought you saw something - some flicker of humanity cross his face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cold indifference. He released you, shoving you back roughly. You stumbled, catching yourself against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.

Hotch stood there, his eyes burning with fury, his hands still stained with blood. “Don't tell me what's right or wrong. They’re gone and nothing can bring them back,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice void of emotion. “There’s nothing left for me but this.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “There’s more to you than this. You’re better than this, Aaron. I know you are.”

He laughed, a bitter, cruel sound that sent chills down your spine. “Better? Better for who? For you? For the bureau didn't trust me to be in the field after what happened?” His eyes bore into yours, and you could feel the hatred radiating off him. “Do you really think you know me? The man I am now?”

You didn’t answer, too afraid of what he might do next. His rage was palpable, an almost physical force that seemed to fill the room, choking you with its intensity.

He moved toward you again, his eyes wild, his movements erratic. “You think you can save me? Is that it? You always had a savior complex, just like Morgan.” He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You can’t save me. No one can.”

You trembled under his touch, your heart thrashing in your chest, trying to claw its way out as his fingers dug into your skin. For a moment, you thought he might hurt you, that you might face the same predicament as the lifeless body in his living room. That he might go too far. But then, just as quickly as the anger had flared, it seemed to dissipate, leaving only emptiness in its wake.

He released you, stepping back, his breathing heavy and uneven. His hands shook as he wiped them on his pants, the blood smearing across the fabric. He looked at you, something dark and broken in his eyes. “You should leave,” he said, his voice hollow as he turned his back to you.

You swallowed, your throat dry. “Aaron—”

“Go.” His voice was cold, final. There was no room for argument.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the part of you that wanted to stay, to help him, and the part that knew he was too far gone. Finally, with a heavy heart, you turned and walked toward the door, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

As you reached the doorway, you turned back to look at him one last time. He was standing in the center of the room, staring down at his blood-stained hands, his expression unreadable.

“Aaron,” you whispered, a single tear rolling down your cheek, and your voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

But he didn’t look back. He didn’t say a word. And as you stepped out into the night, the door closing behind you with a soft click, you knew that the man you had once known was gone.

The door had barely closed behind you when Hotch’s mind snapped back into a cold calculation. He could still feel the sting of your words in the air, your plea for him to stop. You should leave, he’d told you. But now, as silence wrapped around him, a horrifying realization dawned - you knew of him.

Who else knew?

You were the only one who had seen him like this, who knew what he had done. The team… They would never believe it on their own. Not until you told them, he was sure of that. But what evidence did you have to back up your claim?

His pulse quickened. His anger, momentarily soothed by the violence he'd unleashed, flared again. He couldn’t let you leave. He wouldn’t.

He moved quickly, his body still humming with adrenaline. You had made it to the end of the driveway when you heard him behind you. His footsteps were heavy and purposeful. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Aaron?" you called over your shoulder, your voice trembling. But there was no response, only the oppressive sound of his approaching footsteps. Fear gripped you.

Before you could take another step, he was on you. His strong hand wrapped around your wrist like a vice, yanking you back toward him with brutal force. You gasped, struggling against his hold, but it was no use. His grip was unyielding, his expression dark and twisted as he dragged you back into the house, thankful that he and Haley had bought a house in a secluded area.

"You thought you could just walk away?" His voice was low, a deadly whisper, sending a chill down your spine. "That you could leave me and run straight to the team? Tell them about what I've been doing?"

You blinked, fear coursing through you as you tried to speak. "No, Aaron, I—"

"Don’t lie to me!" he snarled, his face inches from yours. "I see it in your eyes. You were going to tell them. Weren’t you?"

Terror constricted your throat. You wanted to scream, to plead with him, but the words wouldn’t come. His anger was suffocating, his eyes filled with a malice you’d never seen before.

"I can’t let you do that," he said, his voice eerily calm now, the storm of his fury momentarily quieted by cold calculation. "You’ll ruin everything. This—" He gestured to the leftover blood still staining his hands. "This is who I am now. And you’re not going to stop me."

Without warning, he yanked you roughly into the storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him. The darkness swallowed you both whole. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance, but Hotch was determined. His large frame loomed over you, his hand still gripping your wrist with bruising force.

"Please, Aaron, you don’t have to do this," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to reason with him. Tried to pull yourself out of his grip.

But his expression was unreadable now, lost in the darkness. His fingers tightened around your wrist, and you winced in pain. A high-pitched whimper left your throat as the pain coursed through every single nerve in your body.

"I do." His voice was cold, devoid of the empathy and warmth you once knew in him. "You’re the only one who knows as far as I can tell. And if I let you walk out of here, it’s over for me."

Your breath hitched, panic rising in your chest. "Aaron, I won’t tell anyone," you pleaded, desperation leaking into your voice. "I swear, I—"

"I told you don’t lie to me," he hissed, cutting you off with a deadly glare. "I can’t trust you. Not anymore."

The air was thick with tension, the weight of his gaze suffocating. You could barely make out the features of his face as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, but you could feel the cold determination, it was unmistakable. He had made up his mind. There was no reasoning with him, no turning back.

Hotch fumbled with something on the wall and soon enough the overhead light bulb flickered on, the dim light barely bright enough to light up his features. Before you could react, Hotch pulled a length of duct tape from a nearby shelf, yanking it free with a sharp sound. Your heart raced, and you instinctively tried to back away, but he was faster. With a cruel efficiency, he shoved you up against the wall, pressing his body against yours to keep you in place.

“Stop fighting me,” he growled, his breath hot on your neck.

You struggled, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but it was no use. He was stronger, and his anger gave him a terrifying, unnatural strength. The tape wound around your wrists, biting into your skin as he bound you tightly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized there was no escape.

When he was finished, he stepped back, watching you with an unnerving calm. Your heart pounded in your chest, panic threatening to overtake you.

"What are you going to do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Hotch tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he considered you. “I’m going to make sure you can’t destroy everything.” His voice was cold, emotionless. “I’ve lost too much already. I won’t lose control again.”

Without warning, he grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder with brutal force. You screamed, but the sound was muffled by the closet walls. His grip on you was like iron as he carried you out of the building, and into the garage where his car waited patiently.

You thrashed against him, panic clawing at your throat. But it didn’t matter. His mind was made up, and his body moved with the cold precision of a man who had crossed the line of no return, a man who wasn’t coming back.

He tossed you into the trunk of his SUV, the metal cold against your back as he slammed the hatch shut, trapping you inside. The darkness closed in around you, and all you could hear was the sound of your own panicked breathing and the engine roaring as Hotch turned the car on.

You were trapped.

The engine screeched as Hotch drove with grim determination, the rain streaking the windshield of his SUV. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white at the force of his grip. You still lay in the cramped trunk, the tape burning the skin on your wrists as you struggled to free yourself. Hotch had made a stop after about an hour on the road on the road to gag your screams, he was tired of hearing your begs and pleas for mercy. You lay helpless as the vehicle bumped along the dark, slick road. Every movement jostled your body, sending sharp pains through your limbs, but the terror coursing through you dulled the physical discomfort.

The man behind the wheel was someone you thought you knew. But this version of Hotch was a stranger.

His phone buzzed on the dashboard, but he ignored it. You could barely make out the faint sounds through the barrier between you, but you knew it had to be the team. They had to realize by now. But the phone in your pocket still clutched tightly against your side despite the restraints, was your only lifeline. Garcia could trace it if you managed to answer it the next time they tried your number. The team would find you, you were sure of it.

But Hotch already knew that. And he wasn’t going to let it happen.

Your heart raced as the SUV took a sharp turn, causing your body to slide slightly across the floor of the trunk. The storm outside was intensifying, and you could feel your anxiety building in the way he drove — focused and determined. He had a plan.

The car slowed, the rhythmic thud of the rain against the roof of the trunk filling the silence. He pulled off the main road, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Your pulse quickened as the vehicle came to a stop.

A car door slammed shut, and you heard his heavy footsteps approaching. The trunk popped open, letting in the cool, rain-soaked air. Hotch loomed over you, his face set in a harsh, emotionless mask. Without a word, he reached down, his grip bruising as he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the trunk. You stumbled onto the muddy ground, barely able to keep your balance.

His fingers moved deftly, reaching into your pocket and yanking out your phone. His lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes flashing with twisted amusement.

“You thought the team would save you,” he grinned in a low almost scary voice. “You thought Garcia would trace this… pathetic.” He held up your phone. A flash of lightning struck down in the distance behind him.

Before you could react, he dropped the phone on the ground and crushed it under his heel before throwing it into the lake you had stopped near. You barely heard it splash into water over the sound of the pounding rain. Hotch calmly walked over to a large rock, grabbing it with both hands. You watched in horror as he smashed his own phone repeatedly, reducing it to a mess of shattered glass and plastic.

Your only connection to the outside world was now gone.

Hotch turned back to you, his face illuminated by the brief flashes of lightning. His expression was as cold and unfeeling as the storm around you, but there was something darker in his eyes — a satisfaction in watching your hope slip away.

“You always were smart,” he murmured, stepping closer, towering over you. “Too smart for your own good.”

Without another word, he shoved you back into the trunk, his strength leaving no room for resistance. You were thrown back into the small, confined space. The rain and the outside world disappeared, leaving you in pitch-black darkness once again.

The car started again, the engine rumbling as Hotch continued driving. You were no longer sure where you were, feeling like he potentially had driven you in circles to throw you off track, and that uncertainty gnawed at you. There was no doubt in your mind that Hotch had planned this meticulously. He had been covering his tracks, eliminating threats, and now he was eliminating your ability to interfere.

The drive felt endless, the sound of rain against the roof your only marker of time passing. You tried to shift, to loosen the restraints on your wrists, but every movement sent sharp pain through your limbs. The car’s motion made you nauseous, the fear and discomfort blending into a haze.

Eventually, the car slowed again. You felt the shift in the vehicle as it came to a stop. The air was suffocating, your breath quickening in panic as you heard the sound of the driver’s door opening for the third time and then the distant crunch of dried leaves under Hotch’s footsteps. Where had he taken you?

The trunk opened again, and Hotch’s silhouette was backlit by the faintest glimmer of moonlight filtering through the storm clouds looming above. His face was unreadable, but there was no regret, no hesitation in his actions. He reached in and grabbed you roughly by the arm as he pulled you from the trunk once more.

You were in the middle of nowhere - an abandoned building ahead, its windows dark and some of them were even shattered.

The perfect place for someone to disappear.

“We’re going inside,” Hotch growled, his voice harsh and barren of the warmth it once held.

Your legs buckled beneath you, no strength left to carry your body, but Hotch didn’t care. He hauled you toward the entrance of the building with ease, his grip bruising on your bicep as he pulled you through the door. The interior was pitch black, the only sound was your rapid, panicked breaths and the distant rumble of thunder as the last of the storm was passing you.

He led you through the building, the air biting at your skin. You could feel the hatred radiating from him - the complete absence of the man you once knew. He stopped in the center of a large, empty room, turning to face you with a dark, predatory gaze.

“You should’ve stayed out of it,” he hissed, his voice low and dripping with venom. “But you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to know.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he reached out, his fingers gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, cold and merciless.

“You’ll wish you hadn’t.”

The BAU team gathered in their conference room, the air filled with a heavy silence. The flickering lights of the monitors and the scattered case files did little to lighten the grim atmosphere. The latest string of killings had left them all feeling drained and frustrated. They knew the pattern - the targeted families of three - but the connection was proving elusive.

Reid, hunched over his paper files, spoke up. “The pattern is consistent. Every victim family has been targeted in a specific order: the father is always the first to go, followed by the mother, and then the child. We’re missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Why does the unsub want the sons to watch their parents get murdered?”

Morgan, pacing back and forth, nodded grimly. “We’ve checked financial records, phone records, and even personal connections, but nothing’s coming up. It’s like the unsub is just a ghost.” He listed, counting with his fingers as he mentioned each thing.

Rossi, reviewing photos from the crime scenes, frowned in concentration. “There’s something we’re not seeing. Maybe we need to look at the details of each scene once again, this time more closely. There’s got to be a common thread.”

Garcia was furiously typing away, her eyes darting between various screens. She was usually the one bringing good news or revelations, but this time her face was a mask of worry. “I’ve cross-referenced all known data, and I’m still coming up empty. It’s like the unsub is erasing every trace of himself.”

Penelope’s words were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a new piece of evidence popping up on her screen. The team watched in quiet concern as she displayed a series of images on the large television screen behind them. The new evidence came from a tech at the latest crime scene.

“Look at this,” Garcia said, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed to a photo of a golden wedding ring lying on a dresser. “I’ve run the image through our database. It’s not just any ring. It’s a unique design only a handful made in total, and I found a match.”

The room fell silent as the team examined the image. Reid’s eyes widened as he recognized the significance too. “That ring… it’s a distinct piece. I’ve seen it before.”

Rossi’s gaze shifted from the photo to Garcia. “You’re saying this ring could be linked to someone we know?”

Garcia nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I cross-referenced it with our records, and it matches the description of a ring worn by someone in our team.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw the name displayed on her laptop.

The realization hit like a thunderclap. The team exchanged worried glances, their earlier frustration giving way to a new kind of dread. Rossi’s face darkened as he leaned in closer.

Garcia nodded again, her expression serious as she confirmed the words Rossi had been about to ask. “The ring belongs to Hotch.”

The room erupted into chaos. Morgan’s eyes widened in shock, and Reid’s expression was one of horror. “No way,” Morgan said, his voice filled with disbelief. “Hotch? He’s one of the most dedicated agents we’ve ever worked with.”

“Is there any chance it could be a coincidence?” Rossi asked, his voice tight with concern. "That it's one of the other owners of similar rings?"

Garcia shook her head, her face pale. “I don’t think so, they've all been spotted across the country and have rock-solid alibis. The design is too specific. And if Hotch is involved, we need to find him before it’s too late.”

Reid began to piece together the information, his mind racing. “If Hotch is connected to the unsub, then it’s possible that he’s been orchestrating these murders from within. We need to act fast.”

The team sprang into action, their earlier determination now transformed into urgency. Rossi and Morgan began to gather additional evidence and check Hotch’s recent whereabouts. Reid and Garcia worked on tracking Hotch’s phone, hoping to pinpoint his location.

As the team raced against time, their focus sharpened on finding Hotch and uncovering the truth behind his involvement in the killings. Each agent’s heart pounded with the realization that someone they trusted might be the very monster they were hunting. But they were not ready to admit it just yet.

Meanwhile, the darkness within Hotch continued to grow, his plans advancing while the team desperately tried to uncover the truth.

The next move was crucial - finding Hotch could be the piece they were missing.

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