#it’s been paused for the last 10 minutes i’m trying to comfort myself through it but it’s not working

[gob-lob]

bro i can watch gore in tv and i can even kinda sorta tolerate sex scenes but i cannot handle second-hand embarrassment. please get me out of here i want to die this is so humiliating i can’t watch this anymore

[honeymilkk00]

Haikyuu Boys: You Flinch

yooooo so my first post on tumblr,,, kinda scary but here goes nothing. if the characters are too ooc i apologise but it’s because this is my first time writing a haikyuu one shot. also i’m fucking obsessed with angst to comfort hmu with some good ones (hopefully i haven’t read them). also pleaseeeee this isn’t an attack on the reader, you all are so fucking gorgeous. i’m trying to write this angst with my personal insecurities in mind so it can be more realistic. remember to drink water and eat 3 meals a day.

characters:

-tanaka

-ushijima

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

Tanaka

Recently, you had noticed a strain in your and Tanaka’s relationship. Of course, you were always pretty self-conscious in the relationship- he always hung out with Kiyoko when he went to practise and spoke about her like she was a goddess.

That didn’t mean you didn’t like Kiyoko. In fact, you looked up to her a lot, heeding her advice every time she spoke to you. But, who wouldn’t be insecure? Kiyoko was everything you were not. She was smart, she was pretty, she was organised, and she had a great personality to go with it. Sometimes, you’d sit thinking that maybe Tanaka would be happier with her. 

And today was one of those days. It was lunch and, as usual, Tanaka was at practise. You didn’t mind and grew pretty accustomed to it, often sitting to the side of the sports hall, watching and cheering. You were happy that your boyfriend had such a deep interest in something. 

As you sat next to the coach, taking small bites out of an apple, you noticed Tanaka’s wondering gaze. Following his eyes, you frowned slightly when you noticed him staring at Kiyoko with a small blush on his face. An uneasy feeling in your gut made you stop eating, just watching. When Tanaka walked over to her and tucked her hair behind her ear after helping her pick up spare balls, you felt bile rise in your throat. Suffocating. It felt like suffocating as you watched your boyfriend touch and blush around your friend whilst right in front of you. 

Biting your lip nervously, you packed away your lunch and stood up. There was still 10 minutes left of lunch. If Tanaka asked, you could’ve dismissed it as simply wanting to get to class early. Nodding to Coach Ukai and Daichi, you swiftly exited the sports hall and walked to your next lesson.

_

Somehow, you had avoided Tanaka for the rest of the day. You knew you were probably overreacting, but the way he looked at her with such a loving gaze made you feel sick. He didn’t even look at you with that much compassion, and you were his girlfriend. 

So, you slung your backpack over your shoulders and made your way home. Normally, you would walk with your boyfriend, but not today. It was silent without Tanaka making small comments here and there and laughing. Insecure thoughts filled your mind, and, with no one to distract you from them, you listened.

You listened to every single thought that crossed your mind.

Why were you not pretty enough?

Why did Tanaka love Kiyoko more than he loved you?

Why were you so petty?

Why were you running away instead of talking to him?

Why were you not good enough?

You swallowed the bile that slowly rose in your throat and looked down at your hands that clenched together.

Just get over it. You can’t be better than her. 

A hand placed on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. Swiftly, you head diverted to look at whoever touched you right in the eyes. 

Shit.

“Hey, you’ve been ignoring me since lunch. Did something happen? Why are you walking home without me?” Tanaka let go of your shoulder and raised a curious brow at you.

You weren’t ready to talk to him yet.

Forcing a smile, you looked down at your hands instead of his gaze-his piercing gaze that left you weak and helpless. “Nothing is wrong,” you started, pausing for a second to recollect your thoughts. “I just wanted to get to class quickly after lunch... And I was walking home by myself because I have a lot of homework to do.” You lied smoothly, but of course, Tanaka saw through it.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Tanaka sighed and tilted his head, “are you going to tell your boyfriend the truth or continue to lie straight to my face? We’re partners- a team- you’re meant to trust me and communicate. Wasn’t it you who said that was important?” His voice gradually got louder with every sentence, his patience wearing thin. 

You looked back at him and opened your mouth, before closing it. Of course, trust and communication is key in relationships but... Your eyes glanced up at Tanaka. Opening your mouth again, you spoke, “It’s just...” You started and licked your lips, taking a deep breath, “You seem to be close with Kiyoko. Very close..” You whispered the last bit, but he still caught it. 

Clenching his fists, Tanaka frowned, “well excuse me, but she’s been my friend longer than I’ve dated you. I don’t see why it’s an issues now.” His voice was firm and loud, making you shrink into yourself.

“I get that, I do. But you can’t just get all close like blushing and tucking her hair behind her ear when you’re in a relationship.” You tried to reason with him. Yes, you know they were friends longer than you and Tanaka had been in a relationship and you respected that. That was why you never mentioned anything before. 

Tanaka made a ‘tch’ sound and took in a deep breath, glaring down at you. Like this, he looked like an alpha- strong, in charge, dominant. In normal circumstances, you might’ve blushed or even squirmed, but in this situation, all you felt was your fight or flight impulse going crazy. “Well I’m sorry, but just because you’re insecure about yourself doesn’t mean you can be a selfish bitch! Grow up (Y/n)!”

That was what made you snap.

“Excuse me!? Tanaka, you told me to communicate and so I did, but when I do my opinions and feelings are immediately shut down!? I’m not saying you can’t be friends with Kiyoko! You can! Just please don’t keep touching her intimately because it makes me think you’d rather be with her!” You shouted back.

Letting out a deep growl, Tanaka leaned over you with a menacing glare and quickly lifted his hand, which made you flinch violently and close your eyes tightly, lifting you arms to shield yourself. 

Snapping out of his rage, Tanaka’s eyes widened.

You flinched. You flinched at him.

Did you seriously think he was going to hit you? 

Taking a shaky breath, he gently placed a hand on your cheek, which made you flinch more and slowly open your eyes to look into his. Your eyes held nothing but pure fear. You couldn’t help it- Tanaka was big, strong and intimidating. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Please don’t look at me like that, baby.. I’m sorry.. I’ll never hit you.” Tanaka whispered softly and pulled you in for a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry I scared you like that..” He murmured lightly.

Shakily, you took a breath, letting your tears slip down your cheeks. “Ngh.. ‘M sorry I annoyed you Tana...” You whispered softly, crying into his shoulder. “’M just... Scared. Kiyoko is beautiful and has the best personality and I’m just... Me.” You admitted, finally calming down when you realised that Tanaka would never ever hurt you, no matter how much you angered him.

Tanaka’s eyes softened and he gently stroke your hair. “Exactly. You’re you. That’s why I love you, baby.” He whispered gently and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

Slowly, you leaned into his touch more, “Okay...”

Tanaka sighed gently, “I didn’t realise I was being too touchy with her, but I’ll stop for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled weakly back.

“Icecream?” He asked.

“Please.”

__________________________________

Ushijima

You always knew volleyball was his passion. It was his everything, and you respected that. 

Still though, when you became his girlfriend, you thought that maybe you’d at least tie with volleyball in importance. However, you soon realised three months into the relationship that what you believed didn’t seem to be the case. In fact, it seemed as if you were more of a chore for Ushijima than something he enjoyed spending his time on. 

Eventually, it all got too much.

You watched him practise from the side-lines, frowning since he barely even glanced at you, let alone said hello. Of course, you didn’t mind. He was focused on practising, so it would make sense if he didn’t acknowledge you.

Ushijima paused his practise to get a small drink and you took this opportunity to encourage him and drop off his lunch since he had a tendency to forget his. “Ushi, you’re doing so-” You started, but was soon cut off by your blunt lover.

“(Y/N), can’t you see I’m focusing right now? I’ll talk later, but right now volleyball is all that matters. You’re irrelevant right now.” He retorted swiftly, before shrugging you off and going back to practise his spikes. 

Biting your lip slightly, you swallowed thickly and looked down at your feet in shame. Those words hurt, even if they weren’t the most aggressive. Maybe he did only see you as a burden. The thought made you shiver and deepen your frown. The last thing you wanted was to hold your boyfriend back, even if it hurt you. Taking one last glance at Ushijima, you set his lunch down by his bottle and turned away, hiding the tears in your eyes by looking at the ground. 

It felt as if someone was squeezing your heart in your chest, and a lump soon formed in your throat. You choked on a sob and headed home, turning off your phone completely. 

Once you had reached the comfort of your house, you collapsed on your bed and sobbed silently into a pillow, curling tightly into a small ball. 

_

You were unsure as to how long you had been crying for, but you soon awoke from a slumber when you felt the bed dip and a large arm wrap around your waist. Biting your lip, you turned your head to come face to face with Ushiwaka. “Ushi...” You whispered quietly.

“My love, you have been crying. Your eyes are red and puffy.” He stated and frowned lightly. “What happened?” The male gently brushed his thumb against your hip, caressing it tenderly.

Tensing up, you sat up and pushed his hand away lightly. “Ushijima..” You started and looked down, clenching your fists together. “Is volleyball really that important to you..?” You whispered out, barely loud enough for him to hear.

The brute frowned and also sat up, narrowing his eyes slightly, “(Y/N), why are you so annoyed over my passion?” He asked and let out a scoff. “What, are you jealous of a ball? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” Ushijima’s voice raised slightly, but he soon shut up when he noticed you flinch and sink deeper into the bed. 

You avoided eye contact from your lover and gripped the sheets tightly in your hand, “’M sorry..” You whispered out as tears filled your vision. “Maybe I am being ridiculous.. I just think that...” You choked on a sob. “That you’d be better off with someone else. All I seem to do is hold you back from doing what you love. ‘M just a pain..” Hurt filled your voice and you swallowed thickly.

Ushijima’s eyes widened slightly and he frowned, gently taking your hands into his large ones. “Darling... You are all I want. I am sorry if those comments I said earlier made you feel insecure, but I truly do care for you. You are the only person I want in my life.” Gently, he placed his forehead on yours and kissed away your tears. “You are anything but a pain, my love.”

Looking into your boyfriend’s eyes, you smiled lightly and pressed your lips against his delicately. “You’re forgiven, Ushi..”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙10

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, angry Andy, hormones

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Another update? Who is this bitch actually trying?

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bus chugged down the city streets as you sat closer to the back. You stared out the window and watched the grey sky of Nelson hanging overhead, a cloudy backdrop to the smoking city. 

You sighed every now and then, trying to forget the beeping and when it stopped. You still felt Andy’s hand on your back and the suffocating silence of the drive home. The burden of the dead woman on your shoulders.

It was as if it had been years since you saw the slightly crooked pole that held the bright sign. The bus stop was as desolate as ever, the dirty bench marked with spray paint and the shelter glass cracked. You set off around the corner past the house. Each was familiar but not comforting.

Your hips hurt from the stiff ride and you rubbed your stomach. You wore one of Andy’s hoodies under your open jacket, the zipper of the latter no longer meeting. You stopped in front of your parents’ house. You hadn’t asked permission; not from your mother, your father, or Andy. There was no courtesy phone call so you hesitated, afraid you might be sent away.

It was noon. Your father would be in the garage. He always had some project going. That was his work. He was cheaper than any other mechanic in the city, he just did it all from home. He could recycle parts from the junkyard and charge half price. They usually did better than the newer parts sent away for down at the Jiffy.

You walked up the driveway, the garage door was only halfway open, the bite of the late autumn, rather the early winter, mingled with the warmth flowing under the metal. You tapped on it with your knuckles, “dad?” you called.

You stepped back as his oily hands gripped the bottom and he hauled it up entirely. He tilted his head at you but couldn’t hide his smile. He looked at your stomach and you dropped your hand. He drew you to him before you could react. He hugged you tight and rocked you.

“Your mother’s gonna be mad you didn’t call before you came,” he let go of you and looked you over again.

“Mad that I’m even here,” you remarked.

“No, she might act like it but…” he waved you into the garage and rolled over the little stool he sat on when he was working. He helped you sit and put his wrench on the plywood table against the wall, “she missed you. We both did.” he wiped his hands on his jeans, “you could have called us. You know how she is. She feels before she thinks.”

“She kicked me out,” you felt precarious on the little rolling stool, “you let her.”

“So why’d you come back?” he asked.

You hung your head and hugged your stomach, “well, I’m having your granddaughter. I didn’t want you to find out from anyone but me.”

“It’s a girl?” he grinned.

“Sorry, wish I could give you a boy to get all filthy in this place,” you shrugged.

“You never minded getting your hands dirty,” he neared and grasped your shoulder.

“Yeah, guess it doesn’t matter too much, she’ll be as curious as any kid,” you said.

You were quiet as you looked around. Your dad’s rolling chest of tools was dented and rusted, the same one he’d had your whole life. The place hadn’t changed, only the car sitting in it.

“That’s not the only reason you’re here,” he said. Your father was a simple man but he wasn’t dumb.

You frowned and felt a prick in your eyes. The hormones, you told yourself, they were getting to you.

“I need you guys,” you said quietly, “is that so bad?”

“I missed you, you’re mom did too, she’s just stubborn. Think that’s where you get it,” he turned his hand over and held it out to you, “but she won’t turn you away.”

“You sure?”

“I won’t let her. Not this time,” he bent and took your hand, “now come on.”

You let him help you to your feet and he led you through the side door into the house. You heard your mother’s old Patsy Cline CD droning from the box speakers on the shelf as she muttered to herself. 

Your dad kicked the dirty off his boots and you slipped your own off. You followed him and peeked over his shoulder as he went to the living room. Your mother was wiping down the framed picture from your high school graduation.

“I got a surprise for you,” he announced as he stepped aside and beckoned you in alongside him, “and she’s got a surprise for you.”

Your mother turned and froze. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced you. She didn’t say anything as he stared at you then tossed the dusting cloth onto the table beside the lamp. She looked down at your feet.

“You remembered to take your shoes off,” she said.

Your lips parted and your chest gripped. She was still mad.

“You remembered us,” she swept over to you so quickly, you flinched. She hugged you and her middle met yours. She let go and looked down at your stomach. Her eyes were sad but not angry, “I’m…” she lifted her head and met your gaze, “I’m not good at saying it but I’m sorry.”

You watched her for a minute. She was still her mother as nasty as she’d been. You could see her regret and it coupled with your own. It didn’t fix everything but for her, it was a lot.

“I’m sorry too,” you breathed, “it was… me being stupid started all of this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You gotta tell her,” your dad intoned.

You glanced at him then back to your mom. You gulped, “we found out yesterday, it’s a girl.”

“We? And where is… he?” your mother bristled.

“Working,” you said.

“We went to the diner, they said you quit. The café too,” your mom batted away lashes, “please, sit.” She touched your stomach, “you’re so big.”

“Five months, I think,” you said as you let her take you to the old floral sofa, “and the doctor recommended I take it easy so I had to… leave.”

“Oh? Is something wrong with the baby?” she picked up her cloth again and resumed her dusting. Your father quietly excused himself.

“No, just me,” you leaned against the arm, “but they said my blood pressure is getting better, just have to check it now and again.”

“And that man? The least I can say is at least he’s taking responsibility, even if he is married,” your mom hung the picture back on the nail.

“It was a mistake,” you said, “but you know, I think it’s taught me a lot. Not that it was worth it.”

“I don’t mean to rag on you, but… it’s just not how it should be,” she went to the television stand and focused on the edges.

“You think I don’t know that. Mom, I didn’t come here to argue my morality. I came here…” you paused as you felt your phone buzz. You slid it from your jacket pocket and checked the ID; Andy. You ignored it and dropped it back inside, “I just wanted to see if you had any interest in your granddaughter.”

She spun back and her face wrinkled with sadness. She twisted the cloth and retreated to the rocking chair and sat. She chewed her lip and looked at the floor. When she looked at you again, her brows crinkled.

“I’m trying,” she said, “but what you did, I don’t know if I can’t get over that. That man, everyone knows him, and when it comes out, with his wife still in a coma, you don’t think about what that does to us.”

“Well,” your throat constricted and you held back the hot tears bubbling behind your eyes, “she’s not anymore.”

“What?”

“She… she passed last night,” you sniffed, “and I’ll admit that I came here as much for me as you. I just needed… needed to get away. Just for a little.”

Your phone went off again and you grunted as you pulled it out and swiped away the second call from Andy. You kept the phone in your hand and rested it against your thigh.

“I just need time,” your mom leaned back heavily.

“Well, it’s quickly running out,” you replied, “she’s gonna be here soon enough.”

“I know,” she said grimly, “I know.”

There was another silence and your phone twitched. You turned it over and checked the message on the screen; ‘why don’t you invite your parents for dinner if you’re not gonna answer me?’ You let the phone slip between your legs and slowly raised your eyes. How did he know?

“I can go, if it’s too much,” you said, “I didn’t expect to get past the front door, honestly.”

“It’s not-- you’re still my daughter,” she uttered, “and even if it’s not the best situation, you got my granddaughter too.”

Your phone began to shake between your legs and you huffed, “sorry,” you stood with effort as you snatched the phone up, “just a second.”

You went into the dining room and answered. You hissed into the phone, “what do you want, Andy?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going there?” he asked sharply.

“How do you even know? You following me?” you kept your voice low.

“I know, that’s all,” he retorted, “it is… surprising.”

“They’re my parents,” you scowled at the tabletop as you leaned on a chair.

“Mine, too, right? Considering--”

“Andy,” you warned, “come on. Let’s cut this out--”

“Invite them for dinner. You’re right. Our kid will need her grandparents,” he interrupted, “I’ll get off early and help.”

“I don’t think--”

“Invite them,” he demanded, “and don’t take the bus back. I’ll send you the money for a cab.”

“Jesus, I can take care of myself--”

“No, you can’t, which is why you’re sleeping under my roof. And this isn’t about you, it’s about the baby,” he exhaled and you heard a squeak of metal, likely a chair, “Now I want you home by two. I’ll be there shortly after.”

He hung up before you could argue. You closed your eyes and forced down the angry bile in your chest. You shuttered and tucked the phone back in your jacket. How did he know you were there?

🌙

Your parents agreed to dinner. Your mother wasn’t subtle that she was curious to see Andy’s house. Her judgement was always her driving motivation and you were certain she could find something to hate, even in the suburban utopia. 

You took the bus out of defiance and brewed with anger as you got off just outside the cul-de-sac. You walked the single block to Andy’s and paced like an angry lioness inside.

He arrived at three, just after. Your anxiety boiled with anger and you stopped to face him as he entered. You watched him put down his briefcase and hang his long black coat. Your nostrils flared as you braced yourself for the onslaught ready to spill forth.

“So, you weren’t following me?” you challenged.

“I was working,” he said quietly, “to pay for all of this…” he pointed to the ceiling, “and that,” he pointed to your bump.

“No, Andy, you don’t get to do that every time,” you snarled, “how did you know?”

He didn’t answer and brushed by you. You followed him into the kitchen as he went to the coffee machine and pressed the buttons bluntly. You watched him from a foot away, your hand on the cold marble.

“You can’t just ignore me. How did you know I was there?”

“Because…” he grabbed a mug and filled it with water. He poured it into the machine and snapped the lid shut, “because you have my baby and I have a right to make sure you don’t take it from me.”

“That’s not an answer,” you sneered, “Andy, I have done everything you’ve wanted. I have stayed here, I have quit my jobs, I have kept this baby for you, and you… you’re what? Tracking me like a dog?” You reached into your back pocket and slammed your phone on the counter. You slid it over to him, “when did you do it?”

His jaw ticked as he put a pod into the machine and hit start. He tapped his fingers on the counter and let out a long breath through his nose. He turned to you and crossed his arms.

“After you stayed out that night. I couldn’t worry like that again. I had to know,” he said staunchly, “because I’ve had a wife go out and not come back. A child--”

“I’m not your wife and I won’t ever be. This child is all we have in common,” you rebuffed, “even after last night. What you did, that doesn’t change things.”

You nearly tripped as he marched towards you. He had you against the far wall, his hand planted on either side of your head as his anger rippled across his forehead and set his jaw square. You pressed yourself against the pure white wall and tried not to wither.

“I did that for you,” he breathed, “I’ve done everything for you. Don’t act like you’re the only one doing shit.”

“Andy, get away--”

“No,” he punched the wall and you gasped, “my wife is gone. Jacob is gone! This is all I have; you, my daughter…that’s everything and I will be damned if I’m going to let you take any of it away from me.”

“You’re scaring me,” you wisped, “Andy, please--”

“No, you shut up and you listen. This is the last time we have this conversation. Your parents are coming and you’re going to be good. You’re going to wear something nice, you’re going to cook something good, and you’re going to smile. You don’t let them see you crack, not once.”

“You can’t--”

“Enough!” he hit the wall again and you heard it crumple under the force, “if you don’t, they won’t be around. Ever. Do you understand me?” you gaped up at him and trembled, you shook your head in disbelief. He leaned in and spoke softly to you, “Understand that I will make sure you and no one else ever sees them again.”

“You… wouldn’t…”

“I could. I will. You’re fucking bitch of a mom deserves it,” he hissed, “so, honey,” he growled the second word, “what’s it gonna be?”

Your lip quivered and you searched his face. The rage had his blue eyes alight and his breath rasped out like animalistic snarls. You thought of Laurie, of how blank he’d been when they stopped the machines. And that smile, after. What was that?

“I’ll… be good,” you murmured, “I will.”

His lips twitched and he shoved himself away from you. He stomped over to the fridge and took out the light cream. He added it to his mug of fresh coffee and stirred. You stood straight shakily and looked up at the hole beside your head.

“Well,” he said, “better figure out what you’re making for dinner. Our guests won’t be long.”

[nickiewrites]

Christmas Cramps - R.D.

I don’t even remember the last time I posted something. It was probably over 6 months ago. I’ve had a lot going on recently and have not been in the mood to write until a few weeks ago, even tho i’ve had ideas flying around in my head. this one sort of sucks and the title is weird but I didn’t know what else to call it, but I hope you enjoy.

Warnings; SMUT

The snow was coming down heavily outside, the cold Boston air making it stick and pile up. I made my way down stairs to start some breakfast, making sure to check the thermostat and turn the heat on for the day, as it was going to drop into the negatives.

I flicked on the lights to the Christmas tree and looked around at all the other decor around the house. I was getting excited that in two weeks, I would get to spend my favorite holiday with my favorite person for the first time. Pulling my sweater tighter around my body, I turned into the kitchen, seeing a piece of paper on the counter.

Hi baby,

I hope you have a wonderful day. I'll call you at lunch and don’t forget to let me know if you need anything.

I love you sweetie.

-Hugh

I smiled widely and slid the paper into my pj pockets, putting a mental note into my head to put it in the drawer with the others later. I finished making my food and sat at the table and turned on my laptop. I opened up my email and started scrolling through, just about to get my day started.

Ransom told me from the second we started dating that he wanted to take care of me. Of course, that wasn’t going to stop me from going to school but I loved that I could do it at my own pace and take my time because of him.

I had finished my breakfast and only got about 10 minutes into my coursework when I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I grabbed my phone and had forgotten my period was coming this week. I guess today was the day and my entire plans had changed. I closed my laptop and pushed it to the center of the table.

I walked over to the couch and pulled all the blankets I could find and wrapped myself up. Switching the TV on and snuggling into the couch.

Around noon, I got up and started to make lunch. It didn’t take long for my phone started to vibrate. I pulled myself together, not wanting Ransom to know I was cramping.

“Hi Ran.”

“Hi, peanut. How’s your work going?”

“It’s going okay. I was just about to take a break and make something to eat.” I smiled through the pain of a cramp.

“Mmmmm, I know something I want to eat.” He hummed through the phone.

I giggled, his voice making me feel a little better.

“How’s your day going, handsome?”

“Stressful. There were five new manuscripts in my mailbox this morning and all of them have been shit. Can’t even get through a single one. And they still haven’t fixed the cover for the new release so it definitely will not be out on time and ready for Christmas sales so that’s going to flop.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. But I know you’ll get this all worked out. You wouldn’t own your own company if you didn’t.”

He paused for a minute.

“Ran?”

“I love you so much. Thank you for believing in me.”

“Of course, my love. Always.” I said, just as another pain ran through my abdomen. “Listen, baby, I’m so hungry so I’m going to make something to eat, but I love love love you, so much and I’ll see you when you get home. Try to have a better day.”

“Thank you princess. I love you beyond words.”

We hung up and I continued to make more comfort food along with some hot chocolate and plopped right back into my spot on the couch with my food and heating pad.

——————-

I had taken a small nap after my food was finished and watched a movie. It was about 5pm when I heard tires pull up in the driveway. I stood up from the couch and walked towards the door. I opened it up just in time for Ransom to make his way through the door, covered in snow.

“Hi honey.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing me, closing the door, as I shrugged off his coat. He pulled me in closer as we continued to kiss and he put his cold hands on my hips and I jumped.

“Babyyyy”

“I’m sorry, I’m just freezing and I wan’ you to warm me up.” He smirks.

“We can do that later, what do you want for din- AH” another pain.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Ransom rushes to my side.

“Nothing, I’m fin- OUCH, god dammit!”

“Baby, what’s wrong, why are you in pain?” He says, voice terrified.

“I-I’ve been having cramps all day. Started my period this morning and nothing is working. Not pain meds, not the heating pad. I dunno what to do. I’ve been lying on the couch all day.”

Ransom pulls me in for a hug and attempts to make the pain subside by rubbing his hand in circles.

“Why didn’t you say anything, sweetie? I would have come home earlier.”

“I-I know, that’s why I didn’t tell you, you were so busy and I didn’t want to bother you.”

He brushes a piece of hair out of my face and kisses me on the forehead.

“Your health and happiness is my first priority.” He whispers.

“Thank you.” I whisper, giving him a kiss on the cheek. I look up at him.

“I don’ even know how you could make it any better, I’ve tried everything.”

“You haven’t tried… everything.”

I cocked an eye at him. “Oh really?”

He stuck his hands under my thighs and picked me up, taking me to the island in the kitchen and setting me down. His lips immediately attach to my neck and starts kissing lightly up and down. His hands rubbed roughly into my thighs, my hands stuck in his hair.

He pulls back for a second and lifts me up and out of my panties and pj pants, lips immediately finding their way back but this time sucking hard.

“Ran..” I moan out. “Not that I don’t love this, but they’re not getting any better.”

He pulls back once more. “I know baby, I’m sorry. I can’t help it, you’re intoxicating.” He smiles. He pulls his shirt off, along with his pants. Next goes my shirt, leaving me completely naked on the counter. He rubs the back of my neck as he uses his other hand to pull his boxers down just enough to get his dick out. He pumps it a few times to make it fully hard, before bringing it to my core and finding my clit.

“Just wanna make you a little more wet, beautiful.”

“Baby, I was wet the moment you walked through the door.”

He stared at me for a minute. “Fuck baby, I love you.” He said, before smashing his lips into mine again. He positions his dick at my entrance and slams into me.

Ransoms POV

“Fuck, baby you’re always so tight for me.” I moan into my girl's neck, pumping in and out of her core, feeling the mixture of her wetness and blood around my cock.

“Is this making you feel better, darling?” She nods at me. Too focused on making her feel better, I ignore her not being a good girl and not using her words.

Suddenly, I hear the front door open, quietly enough that Y/n doesn’t notice, too entranced by the feeling of us being connected.

Shit. 

I forgot my mother left me a voicemail saying her and my father were going to stop by later.

They don’t say a word as I cradle Y/n’s head and pull her into my chest, not wanting her to come out of her cock induced coma. I can tell she’s close by her quiet moans and drool I feel on my chest. I keep pumping in and out as my parents stare, chins practically to the floor as I’m not stopping on account of them being there.

I lift my finger up to my mouth slowly, shushing them, as if they were able to say anything beforehand.

“Ran.. I-I’m” I hear her little whisper.

“I feel it baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”

And with that, she releases and starts moaning like a fucking whore, sounds filling the house. I follow suit quickly behind her, panting and placing a kiss to her forehead. I pick her up and lay her head in my neck, making sure she doesn’t catch a glimpse of my parents, before walking her up the stairs and putting her to bed. I stuff my cock back into my boxers before heading back to see what Linda and Richard have to say.

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[csacg]

I Still Get Nervous / Auston Matthews

Plot: Comforting your best friend after a tough game went differently than you anticipated.

Word Count: 6259

Note: This is the first time I’ve written one of these, so let me know what you think!

My day had started off normally. Saturday's are always extremely light days for my marketing job, so I tend to use them as a self care day. I finish my work before noon, and then get straight to cleaning. I get a lot of peace from cleaning and reorganizing my little Toronto apartment, so I always start off my self care day by ridding up around my place while I catch up on my latest watch on Netflix or listen to a favorite playlist. I'm pretty easily distracted, so I love being able to take my time with tasks that shouldn't really take that long without having to worry about what other people are thinking.

Once everything is cleaned and organized how I like, I make myself an elaborate late lunch and curl up on my couch for some binge-watching. Today, it was my Grandma's famous spaghetti and meatballs while watching Narcos. I spent the evening watching episode after episode while shooting some texts to check up on friends and family and felt progressively more relaxed and satisfied with my self care day as the evening turned into night.

I had just started thinking about moving the party to my bed when my phone lit up.

The first thing that registered was that my best friend Auston was calling me. The second thing that registered was the time. 10:41 PM.

A few thoughts instantly went through my head. The first one being "Oh no."

Auston and I have been best friends since I can remember. Ever since we met in elementary school, we've been each other's #1, and that's only been further solidified since he started playing Leafs hockey and I got accepted to the University of Toronto in the same year. He instantly made close friends with his teammates, and I've met life long friends through school, but we've had to lean on each other more than ever since we moved to Toronto without knowing anyone else.

Needless to say, Auston and I know each other deeply, so I knew that getting a call from him at this time after a game was never a good sign.

Auston is one of the best players in the NHL and he's crazy lucky to play for a franchise as strong as Toronto, but anyone who watches hockey knows that they haven't exactly played up to their potential in the past few years. With this season seeming just as unpredictable, the team was harboring some real. frustration and I'd heard a lot of it from Auston.

Just last week, I'd gotten two calls from him around the same time of night just needing a listening ear after some frustrating losses.

Considering the time, I knew that he probably needed that same thing tonight. I took a deep breath and answered.

"Hey Auston", I said tentatively. "What's going on?"

There was a pause, and then a sigh that I could recognize without any caller ID. Finally, I heard him speak in a tired voice. "Hey YN."

I waited to leave him space to start talking which is what usually happened in these situations, but all I heard was another sigh.

"Auston," I gently offered, "What's going on? I'm here if you need to talk."

Another sigh. "Yeah, I know you are. I, uh, I really appreciate it." Another pause. "I'm so sorry YN, I'm really struggling to put my thoughts together right now. Can we talk in person? I really don't want to bother you but it's just so much and I can't talk to any of the guys about this and I know it's getting late but I can't-"

"Auston," I raised my voice a little above his panicked tone to stop his anxious train of thought. Then, I softened my voice. "Please come over. Just try to take a deep breath. I'm always here for you and I want to listen. You're my best friend and you're welcome at all hours."

Silence over the line. Followed by a sigh. Followed by a deep breath in. And a deep breath out.

"I'll be at your place in 20 minutes."

I heard the tone that signified Auston had hung up, looked at my phone to confirm, and then dropped it in my lap.

I took a deep breath for myself and started to try to gather my thoughts following what was a slightly surprising phone call. It definitely wasn't odd for me to offer Auston some encouragement following his bad games, but despite how close we are, everyone who knows him would say that he's not exactly open with his emotions.

He's such a hard worker and he has this undeniable passion for hockey that makes me feel such a sense of pride when I watch him play. But as far as him expressing his frustrations? I don't get to see that very often. His parents raised him well, but they themselves aren't the most emotive people. I've warned Auston before about the dangers of emotional constipation, but he's always brushed me off when the conversation got too serious, and hey, I can't control anybody's healing but my own.

But after this 40 second phone call with Auston, it sounds like he might be at a breaking point where he's willing to try.

Now it makes sense why I felt so taken aback through the call. This is just a little bit of a side of Auston that I've never seen before.

And I have to admit, I'm a little nervous for him to come over.

At that thought, I stood up and started to rid up the small mess I'd made through the course of the day, folding my couch blankets, fluffing my pillows, and taking the few dirty dishes I'd made to the kitchen sink. I continued to think through these tiny nerves I was feeling about seeing my best friend, the person that I knew better than anybody else in the world, in just a few minutes.

I can't say I'd never felt nervous around Auston before. Specifically, I'd felt nervous around him twice.

The first time was our freshman year of high school. Auston and I's parents had given us the idea of going to homecoming together since neither of us were dating anyone at the time. In fact, neither of us had dated anyone up to that point. I'm not sure why.

But anyways, I remember that day when our families brought up the idea while we were together for dinner. Sitting next to Auston around the table, my eyes were instantly locked on my lap and I felt blood rush to my face.

Going on a date? With my best friend? How could my parents suggest that? And in front of him too. This is so embarrassing.

While our families continued happily chatting at the idea, I risked a glance over at Auston and, to my horror, found that he was looking at me too. Both of us instantly looked away, and while I was staring at my lap once again, I couldn't help but think about how Auston's face had looked a little red too.

After a minute or two, the conversation at the table transitioned to neighborhood gossip and recent changes in Auston and I's school district. We both jumped back into the conversation with our families and finished our meals.

Just as we were starting to wrap up the meal and our parents moved to a different area of the house to talk, Auston leaned towards me and said, "You know, it might not be such a bad idea."

I quickly turned my head to look at him inquisitively. I started to laugh, assuming he must be joking, but stopped once I saw the serious look on his face.

"Oh. You're serious? We're still talking about homecoming, right?"

Auston laughed at my confused response.

"YN, of course I'm serious. I think it could be fun! Weren't you just planning to go with some of your girl friends anyway? I could totally be just as fun!" He suddenly got a playful smirk on his face. "What, are you saying I'm not fun or something? What kind of friendship is this?"

I felt a sudden panic and hurriedly said, "What? No! Auston, of course not. I always have fun with you. I could never think that you're not fun."

I'd barely gotten that sentence out when he interrupted me in an amused tone. "YN," he said with a smirk, "I'm just messing with you."

I felt a familiar warmth in my heart, one that I often felt when Auston and I laughed together. I shoved him on the shoulder. "Jerk. I thought I actually hurt your feelings for a second."

He laughed at that too. "Well maybe just a little, but I'll still take you to homecoming if you ask nicely."

Any nerves I'd felt from the moment the topic came up were gone and I was once again just talking to my best friend. (We totally danced like mad and had a blast at homecoming by the way.)

The second time I felt nervous around Auston came just a few years ago, during his first game with the Maple Leafs. We were actually still sharing an apartment that we'd found together when we'd both moved to the city and I'm his best friend for crying out loud, so there was no way in hell that I was going to miss his first NHL game.

I went to the game with a fellow UT student that I'd met at the beginning of freshman orientation. She and I had these amazing seats about ten rows up from the glass and right across from the Leafs bench.

We, of course, got there early to watch the team warm up and I was blown away with a sense of pride when I first saw Auston skate out onto the ice in that classic Maple Leafs' blue. I'd been to tons of Auston's games over the years, although not so many recently since he was travelling all over the world. But looking at him now, it was like I was seeing a different person, and I couldn't put my finger on why. But regardless, my friend had to yell my name a few times to grab my attention because I had zoned out while watching him.

We watched his epic first game and jumped to our feet screaming for all four of his goals, each one filling my heart with more pride and joy for my best friend. Throughout the course of the game, I felt more and more shocked while I watched Auston, realizing that my scrappy best friend who had spent his whole life working to get here had realized his dreams. And he wasn’t a scrappy kid anymore. He was a whole ass man.

After the game, Auston had invited my friend and I to see him at the locker rooms before he went out celebrating with the team. We made our way back and made the final turn towards the locker room when all of a sudden, I saw him. And I felt those same nerves I'd felt about homecoming all those years ago. As we started to walk closer to him, I felt my head drop to the floor out of nervousness, but I quickly forced it back up. YN, what are you doing? I thought to myself. We don't get nervous around Auston. He's your best friend, and the only reason we were nervous around him in middle school was because you were both prepubescent losers. Chin up.

As we drew closer, a million thoughts ran through my head. The first one being, "Wow, his thighs are huge."

I don't know how I never noticed it before. I think I've known him for so long that I never was truly taken aback at what a massive athlete and man he is.

The second thought was that he looks like a sleepy puppy when he's worn out. What the hell, YN? What is this train of thought? It's not happening right now, I'll tell you that.

I quickly brushed both of those thoughts aside to greet him. "Auston!" His face broke out in a smile and we rushed to hug each other.

"I'm so glad you were here, YN." I could hear the smile in his voice while he spoke into my hair.

"Auston, you were incredible," I said into his shoulder, and I laughed as he slightly picked me up.

"Thank you."

After he set me down, any of the nerves I'd felt upon seeing a massive sweaty, hunk of an NHL player faded away and I just saw my best friend again. I introduced him to my school friend and we chatted with him until he had to head out with the team.

Two times in our practically lifetime of friendship. Only two times had I ever felt nervous around Auston. So now that I was feeling nervous for the third time, it was just as uncomfortable as ever.

I suddenly snapped out of my daze, realizing that a few minutes had passed while I was taking a trip down memory lane. I turned to check the time when I heard a knock on my door.

I gulped and took a deep breath. Yes YN, Auston might open up to you tonight in a new way. Just be a good friend and be there for him. That's all he wants. Just you.

I closed my eyes for just a few seconds to focus on that peaceful thought, then looked over at the door and walked to open it.

There was another knock just as I got there, and I opened it to see Auston with his hand still poised to knock.

Wow, this boy looks tired.

We took each other in for a second. He said a tired, "Hi," and I said "Hi," back with a soft smile.

"Wanna come in, bub?"

He quickly nodded, and then ducked in to my space, making a beeline for the couch.

I turned towards him after closing the door, and took in his bulky frame comfortably slumped on my sectional. We looked at each other for a moment until he broke eye contact and started picking at his jacket uncomfortably. I held back the empathetic frown that wanted to make it's way onto my face, and then decided that both of us might need something to calm our nerves.

"Aus, can I get you a glass of water?"

He met my eyes once again and gave me a tired nod. Poor guy is gassed.

"I'm gonna grab those waters. Why don't you take off your shoes and your jacket to get more comfortable? And you're welcome to any of my blankets if you think you'll get cold."

I walked to the connected kitchen and started to grab some glasses, glancing over at Auston every few seconds since his back was turned to me from his spot on the couch. I quickly filled up the glasses, and took a final deep breath before I went to join him on the couch.

He had listened to my advice and gotten more comfortable, although he had just opted to wrap his arms around one of the couch pillows rather than getting a blanket. I set the waters on my coffee table and sat on the couch a few feet away from him, and slightly angled myself towards him.

We sat there for a few minutes, him just facing straight forward while holding the pillow, and me watching him, waiting to see if he wanted to start. The nerves inside of me were throwing me off and I wasn't sure what the first move would be.

Quickly though, I realized that he was stuck in his own head and I needed to open up the floor. Okay YN, this is fine. It's Auston. You're gonna do fine.

I started off simply. "Bad night?" I offered in a gentle voice.

Auston looked down towards his lap, but not out of nerves. No, it looked more like he was tired. He let out a sigh.

"Auston," I started again. "I'm just here. It doesn't matter what's on your mind, what you understand, what you don't understand, or what you need to talk about. I'm just here."

He looked over at me at that. And after a moment he spoke.

"YN, I don't know what's going on."

Okay, well that's a start. This could go anywhere, but I felt so relieved just to finally hear him give a tiny window into what was happening inside his head and heart.

"Hey, that's okay. The fact that you don't know is something you do know. You recognize now that you're struggling so that means you're on the path to figuring out what's wrong."

"But there isn't supposed to be anything wrong!" He startled me by suddenly raising his voice. "I'm in the fucking NHL! I play for one of the most established hockey franchises on earth! I'm playing the best hockey of my life after working so damn hard to get here! I have friends and family and an entire fucking province supporting me! But it doesn't even seem to matter because night after night, we're getting our asses kicked by teams who frankly have no business putting up a fight against us."

"This was supposed to be my dream, right? So why the hell does it actually feel like a nightmare?" He paused and then in a lower voice said, "If this is my dream, then why do I feel so stuck?"

Quiet fell on the room as his thought settled on the two of us. His eyes that had grown so wide while he was expressing his anger had gone back to their tired state, and he started to look back down at this lap.

I quickly scooted closer to him and sat my hand on his arm. He looked over at me.

"Auston." I said in an empathetic voice. "Auston, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that these past few years haven't been what you dreamed they would be. That must feel so frustrating."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said exasperatedly, "it seriously is."

I nodded to tell him to continue.

"It just doesn't make any sense. You're supposed to get a good team together and just conquer the world, right? I mean, obviously everyone at this level knows it's not that easy. It doesn't matter how good you get. You're still going to lose games."

"But it's different with us. We lose to people that we shouldn't. And we get in these mental ruts where we lose sight of who we are. We're a band of brothers, truly, but sometimes the pressure from the fans and the pressure we put on ourselves has us playing like shit, and all of a sudden we're losing to the last place Montreal mother-fucking Canadiens!" He rolled his eyes hard and muttered, "God, I hate them," under his breath.

"When we were playing tonight," he started again, "it was like we all knew we weren't playing to our potential, but it's just impossible to kick out of that in the midst of a game. We all know that's not us! We're confident in what we have as a group. But when we have off nights, it gets so ugly. And lately, there have been more off nights than on."

He got quiet and started to fidget with the yarn around the pillow he was hugging, but I could tell he had more to say. I started rubbing soft circles on his arm with my thumb to remind him I was listening and encourage him to say more. After a moment, he continued in a smaller voice. "I just don't know what to do." "Toronto should be the place for me. For all the guys on this team. But something is keeping us from being who we could be. And honestly," he paused, "sometimes, I think if I just tried to be a better leader and had a better headspace for myself, that would set the team right. Sometimes, I just.. Sometimes I think this is all my fault."

Uh no. Immediately, no.

Once again, so many thoughts were running through my head. But I felt more sure than ever in that moment that I just needed to be there for my friend. Like I always did. And like he always did for me.

"Auston," I said firmly. He had been looking down at his lap since he finished his thought. "Auston, look at me."

He turned his eyes up to meet mine, the space between us not far because I had kept my hand on his arm. For the first time since he got here, I saw that his eyes were watery.

"Auston, come here."

We leaned into each other and he wrapped his arms around me, me wrapping just one of mine around him because of our angle on the couch.

I knew Auston wouldn't cry. Even though this was more emotion than I'd pretty much ever seen from him, I knew there wouldn't be any full on tears from him. However, as we sat there in each other's embrace, I felt his breathing get deeper and quicker as all of his emotions truly hit him for the first time.

"Breathe, baby, just breathe. It's okay. You're safe. It's okay." I softly ran my hand up and down his back and continued to console him with soft words while he tried to breathe through the moment.

I kept thinking that I felt so bad that my best friend was feeling so much pressure, and I was praying that this was a cathartic moment where he could feel some of the weight coming off of his shoulders after letting out these heavy things he had been holding inside and carrying all by himself. His breathing continued to slow down and become steadier. "That's so good, Auston. Lets just catch your breath. I'm so glad you shared your feelings with me, baby. I'm not going anywhere." We stayed in each other's arms for a few more minutes while he fully caught his breath.

Once I felt his muscles relax and heard a few soft sniffles, I slowly pulled back from him to meet his eyes, staying close enough to move my hand to hold one of his.

I reached forward with my free hand to push some of his hair out of his face. "Hi," I said with a soft smile.

His nervous eyes slightly warmed, and after a light nose exhale laugh, he opened his mouth. "Hey, bub."

I realized now that any nerves I'd had before Auston arrived were completely gone and I was so grateful to be able to comfort my best friend whom I love so deeply.

"Auston," I began, making sure to maintain serious eye contact, "None of this is your fault." His eyes dropped to our hands. "No, Auston. Look at me. This is serious."

He met my eyes.

"Listen to me. You cannot carry the weight of this entire franchise on your shoulders. Both because it's not your fault and also because no one could possibly do that alone or be solely responsible for that." "You said it yourself, you guys are a band of brothers, right?" "I've watched so many of your games, bub, and you're on a damn good team. The way you guys play together, the passion you have for your sport and for winning. It is so obvious when you guys are out there on the ice that you're having the time of your lives and looking good doing it."

That comment got a light laugh out of him, which was what I was hoping for, so I continued.

"You guys are a damn good team, but you're also humans and even though your job is so cool, you know better than anyone that it's a damn hard job. Physically, mentally, relationally, emotionally. Every part of your life is tied up with this crazy sport, so you can't beat yourself up for having an emotional breakdown over it. In fact, I'm shocked it took you this long to crack!"

Another laugh.

"It was about damn time, Matthews." I paused to collect my thoughts. "But in all seriousness Aus, everything you shared is valid. You guys are an amazing team but you've had some off nights, and even though fans get pissed and the franchise takes heat, you players feel that and carry that more than anybody else. And frankly Auston, I know you don't like to say this, but you're the star of the team, so you probably carry more pressure than anyone else." I could see in his eyes that what I was saying was hitting home, and my heart panged to think he'd been carrying all of this weight alone.

"Listen bub, your job is to play good hockey. That's just the fact of the matter. You know that. And so I'm not going to sit here and say that everything is going to be just fine when in fact there's a lot of hard work you guys are going to have to put in to figure out how to play as the legendary team that everyone knows you can be. But you are taking the most important step through what you've done tonight. The pressure you guys face and the difficulty of your work is no joke. You have to stop carrying all of this alone. It's not manly to bottle up your shit. It's just stupid. That goes for you and all the guys on your team. You need to talk to people. And I'll be the first to say that I'm completely open and available to be your listening ear, Aus. You're my best friend and as long as that's true, you'll never be alone."

We sat there looking at each other, me waiting to see what he would say and hoping that I didn't just make his night 30 times worse by saying the wrong thing.

Suddenly, he pulled me into an even tighter hug than the one from before. I let out an "oof" when his chest hit mine, and I wrapped both of my arms around him to give him a proper embrace.

"Thank you so much, YN," he breathed into my hair. "Thank you. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

I smiled and let out a light laugh, even though he couldn't see my face while we were holding each other. "It's nothing, Auston. I'm always here for you. And I know you're always here for me."

"Yeah," I heard him say into my neck.

All of a sudden, I became very aware of how close we were.

Our hips touching, our arms wrapped around each other, by body pressed into his firm chest while his hands stroked by back and slightly ran through my hair. And worst of all, his lips brushing against my neck.

Sure, we had been in close proximity over the years. Tackling each other while playing street hockey and laying side-by-side in my backyard watching the stars together as kids. And in more recent years, lounging on this very couch watching whatever latest show or movie had caught our attention.

But those were all just moments of close proximity. This particular moment was intimate without question.

For the fourth time ever in our relationships, I realized that I felt nervous around Auston Matthews, but for the first time, I started to realize why.

The frantic dialogue that started in my head made me start to pull away from Auston, but he wasn't exactly ready to let go. We got far enough apart to look into each other's eyes, but now our faces were just a few inches apart. I opened my mouth to speak but I didn't know what to say. Is he thinking the same thing that I'm thinking right now?

"Auston-" I barely got out his name before he crashed his lips onto mine. His lips. On mine. My best friend. Auston. He's kissing me.

I instantly pulled away, and tried to back out of his embrace. This is absolutely crazy. Didn't Auston just come over here to vent? How did we get here? His lips are really soft. Suddenly, I heard Auston speak. "YN."

Upon hearing my name, I looked back into his eyes. It only took half a second to realize that yes, he was thinking the same thing that I was thinking. And all of a sudden, I was kissing my best friend again.

Kissing Auston was something that I had never realized I wanted to do, but now that I'd started, I never wanted to stop.

He had pulled me back into his embrace, and I wrapped my arms around his back while he put one of his hands in my hair.

The kiss was frantic. Our lips and teeth were crashing into each other's and fitting together so perfectly. Even though I was fully invested in this now, Auston was still leading, lightly tugging on my hair to tilt my head back and get better access to my mouth. He bit my bottom lip which made me let out a moan, and he took the opportunity to connect our tongues. Wow, my best friend is a really good kisser. How had we never done this before?

Oh right, my best friend. Best friends aren't supposed to kiss. Between Auston and I's proximity and the sudden realization I had that best friends are not supposed to kiss, I knew I needed a break, but I really really didn't want to stop. Our lips and tongues still battling for dominance, I decided to swing my leg over Auston's lap so he was leaning back against the couch and I was straddling him. I then sat back so I was just far enough away to break the kiss

We looked into each other's eyes and took the moment to catch our breath. Auston's eye contact was way too much, so I looked down at my lap. I saw him reach his hand up to cradle my cheek and lift my face to look at him again. I'm positive that I was more nervous than him in that moment because he somehow had the courage to speak.

"YN, was that okay?'

I'm sure my jaw dropped a little bit after he asked that and then I started to laugh. Of course it was okay, more than that actually. I've never shared a more amazing kiss with anyone in my life. But also, what the hell are we doing? We've been best friends since we were 7. And sure, maybe I'm realizing that I’ve probably had some buried feelings for Auston dating back to the first time I felt nervous around him, but yeah, that kiss was way more than okay.

Auston started to laugh with me. "What? What's so funny?"

Through my laughter I said, "You're kidding, right? We've been best friends for like 80 years and I practically just sucked your face off when you just came here needing to vent."

Auston gasped at that, "Hey, don't steal my credit, I kissed you first!"

That stopped me laughing right away. That's true. My best friend kissed me first. What does that mean?

"Right, yeah you did," I said, now kind of awkwardly. "You wanted to kiss me?"

Auston got a nervous look on his face, but blurted out, "Well yeah, of course. Didn't you want to kiss me?"

I started looking anywhere but at him, until his grabbed my chin. "YN," he said, looking into my eyes.

I let out a groan, then admitted, "Yeah, I think I did too." A smirk instantly appeared on his face and he started to lean back in, but I stopped him. "Auston, wait. Are you sure about this? This isn't what you came here for." He looked at me and thought for a second. "No, it's not," he said, "but I already got what I came here for. This is just like an added bonus."

I felt a smirk creep onto my face. "An added bonus, huh?” I grabbed his hands and placed them on my waist. A dopey smile appeared on his face. "Yeah." was all he got out before I leaned forward and ran my hands over his shoulders, one of them going around the back of his neck and the other going into his hair before I leaned in to connect our lips once again.

This kiss was slow and sensual. We let our lips just glide over one another's and explored each other's mouths, enjoying the feeling of being so close. Auston's hands started to creep under the back on my shirt and I let out a slight moan at the feeling of his warm hands starting to explore by body. I felt him smile at my reaction, and I placed a peck on his lips before moving to his cheek and then down his neck, resulting in him letting out a moan of his own.

"Baby," he breathed out, "I can't tell you how long I've wanted this."

I shivered at the pet name he used for me. We'd called each other 'baby' as a term of endearment, but in this context, it made me feel things that it never did before.

I moved back to his lips and we kissed for a few more minutes before we needed a break for air. I rested my head in the crook of his neck while we caught our breath.

"YN, I think we should have done this a long time ago."

I laughed and leaned back from my position to look at Auston. "I have to say that I agree, although I do have a question." Auston quirked his eyebrow playfully at that.

"You know, it seems just a little convenient to me that you came to pour your heart out to me for the first time and you ended up getting me all hot and bothered like this."

"What are you suggesting?" Auston asked.

"Well," I said playfully, "It kinda makes me wonder if getting your hands on me tonight was your plan all along."

Auston raised an eyebrow at my suggestion, and after seeming to think it over for a second, he grabbed my waist and flipped me over so that my back was flat on the couch and he was straddling me. The quick transition left me breathless and I stared up into his eyes while I was completely at his mercy with him on top of my body. A smirk appeared on his face.

He leaned down so his face was close to mine. "I'm appalled that you'd even suggest I'd do something like that. You know, I was feeling a lot better after your pep talk earlier, but these accusations are really bringing me down." His playful tone made me let out a giggle, and I laughed more when he started placing kisses all over my face. "What are you laughing for? You hurt my feelings!"

Eventually he made his way down to my neck and collarbone, leaving kisses as low as my shirt would allow him. I was glad he had limited space though because I started giggling more when his lips started gliding against my collarbone. After a few more kisses, I had to say something.

"Auston, can you please not do that anymore?"

He leaned back instantly. "Oh shit, am I too heavy? I shouldn’t have sat on you, I’m so sorry." "No, no," I quickly reassured him. “You were being so sweet. You were just kinda tickling my collarbone.”

I instantly knew I shouldn't have said that word. With Auston still sitting on my lap and his hands already resting on my waist, I had a feeling I was screwed. I think Auston saw the panic in my eyes because I once again saw a smirk appear on his face. "Oh I'm sorry, I was tickling you?"

"Wait. Auston, I swear to God, if you don't get off me right now." His fingers clawed into my waist and held there. I bucked underneath him, trying to make the ticklish feeling go away, but the guy is so much bigger than me that if anything, I just made it worse.

He taunted me by just holding the ticklish grip and maintaining eye contact with me. "Weren't you enjoying us holding each other so close before?"

I was barely able to responded through grated teeth. "Not like this, you bitch! Oh my gosh, Auston, let me go!"

He poked and prodded at me for a few more minutes while I laughed and tried without success to get away from him. Eventually, he got off my waist and just pulled me up to sit next to him, just like we started the night.

He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into his side. "Auston, how the hell did this happen?"

We both turned to make eye contact again. "I don't know exactly," he said, "but I'm so glad that it finally did."

Everything wasn't perfect with the Leafs after that, but I was so glad that Auston finally took steps to lean on others and not carry his burden alone. And everything wasn't perfect with our relationship either, but we were finally together, and we knew that's exactly how we were meant to be.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter One

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate. 

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 1 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Trope: ‘Enemies to Lovers’; mainly angst, mutual pining, fluff, and eventual smut

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction. 

Word Count: 4000+

A/N: Ooo, let’s hope this does numbers! I love myself some ‘enemies to lovers’ tropes. It’s been a while since I’ve written Steve fanfics. :)

~

Wakanda, 2018, 4:04 pm.

     The flash of bright white light temporarily blinded you, sending you back to the ground and cupping your face in self-defense. But as quickly as the initial crack, it was over. Eerily silent and loud at the same time. The birds whistled their same tune, some higher-pitched than others. The wind seemed to blow louder, rustling the leaves from the trees and landing all around you and your teammates. 

“Thor?”

You lifted your head at the sound of Steve’s voice and checked if the coast was clear. All that remained of the evil was a new blood-stained hammer - a hammer that Thor was watching intensely, as if the answer lay hidden there. It was the only remnant left and your mind was already wondering how to use it to bring that evil back to finish a fair fight. 

“Where’d he go?”

The birds stopped singing. 

“Steve?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of Bucky’s confused voice, watching as one of your best friends dropped his gun and looked up at Steve as his hands began to disappear. In a matter of seconds, Bucky - or what became of him - fell to the dirt below. No one spoke, and you watched as Steve tried to control his breathing as he took a knee to place his shaking hand over his best friend’s ashes. A life and mind brought out of the darkness to finally amend those knots he had twisted, now ceasing to exist. In the distance you could hear Okoye shout in turmoil and Rocket begin begging. 

“What’s happening?” you finally choked out, turning just in time to see Wanda lift her head to the sky, defeated and out of will, and succumb to the same fate. “No!”

You ran and fell beside Vision’s now gray and decaying body, reaching over and palming through Wanda’s ashes. You rubbed them between your fingers, inspecting them, and brought your hand to your chest. The pit of your stomach churned as you sat there, immobile and numb. 

“Sam!”

So many names were being called but soon everyone who remained fell silent. The trees were still guiding the wind, leaves falling into the ashes of your friends, a sign of a new and unwanted chapter. You felt Steve drop beside you, turning Vision around to see the damage to his body. You winced when you saw the gaping hole in his forehead. 

“What is this? What’s happening?”

Natasha ran to where you were seated, hand over her stomach as if she was ready to vomit. And once she took one look at Vision, that’s exactly what she did. 

You removed your hands from your chest to look at them, the ashes still there and practically mocking you into finally believing this as reality. “Did we just lose?”

Steve was moments away from a full-blown panic attack. He simply looked up at the trees, watching the way the sunlight still burst through with no disruption. “Oh god.”

You caught Steve as he tipped his upper body toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding onto something real. He had to believe you were real. Anyone. And you were the closest person to him. You shut your eyes and held him, running your hands through his hair, wincing when you realized Wanda’s ashes were now on him.

You held him tight, praying to any God you chose to believe in at that moment, that Steve wouldn’t disappear too. 

Unknown Location, 2025, 1:07 pm.

     The air was incredibly musty, as if each person who struggled for breath in this room at one point or another left a piece of their soul floating in search of last minute penance for their sins. And the man in front of you was no different, choking on the purple blood that dripped down his neck and onto his now unbuttoned, white dress shirt. His chest was rising and falling, his breathing becoming less labored with each blink of the eye. His hands were tied behind his back and to the chair he sat on, a flickering light in the corner of the dark, concrete room somehow mocking this man’s last remaining seconds of life. 

“I’m not an evil person,” you started, kicking one of the legs of the chair to startle the poor man. But your guilt was minimal - it’s not like you wanted to do this - but knowing this man did exactly what everyone said he did, hands red and dripping with young blood, you selfishly took pleasure knowing this man would look at you when he died. “It’s just my job as third in command.”

You gave the man a small smile as you bent down to his level, head hanging in shame, slow breaths now pausing in between each intake. You looked to the other party in the room, handing them the gun in your holster, and walked out the room as the sound of two gunshots rang out. 

Left twist. Sting. Breathe. 

You washed away any smell from that godforsaken room, giving extra attention to the roots of your hair and under your fingertips. 

Scrub. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

The crack of your neck frightened even you, and you stood under the burning shower for a few more minutes before deciding the sting was enough. You changed into the most comfortable sweats you owned, surprisingly calm for such a gruesome morning you had, and took your time with your skin care routine. 

Circle. Wash. Dry.

Soft music played in the overhead speakers, the classical sounds vibrating from one wall to another and surrounding you with something tranquil - something still. There was nothing to expect from such a sound, only the next repeated chorus, no words or drops - just tranquility. You could barely hear yourself breathe but you were at peace - or mostly - and ready to sooth your growing headache behind the eyeballs with more than just music. You slipped on a pair of comfy, forest green socks and bent them at the ankle to achieve an even fluffier look. You applied your favorite perfume, lotioned up your hands, and donned your tacky friendship bracelet. 

One for you. One for Bucky. One for Peter. And one for Wanda. 

You hummed the whole way to the common room, waving at the morning staff as they fixed lightbulbs, covered holes in the walls, and swept the floors. One muffin and a cup of coffee later, you were resting with your head in Wanda’s lap as she filled your thoughts with your chosen sceneries.

      “I can make you see anything you have already seen, so yes.”

“A miniature golf course, Peter’s high school graduation, a field of all kinds of flowers, and Natasha.”

Wanda stilled her floating hand, smile faltering for a moment before she nodded. “Okay… okay, I can do that.”

     They were images well-drawn out, slow and steady to make the atmosphere similar to when you were actually there. They seemed to float across your vision, comfortable in their positions and radiating the same warmth you had felt the first time around. A moving picture. Wanda really had excellent control of this. 

     “I won!” Sam leapt into the air, pointing at a disgruntled Bucky, who stepped off to the side to not throw Sam over his own head. “I won!”

“How is it possible for you to get a hole-in-one each fucking turn?” Bucky groaned, moping in Wanda’s shoulder as she held him and struggled to keep herself standing from her own intense laughs. 

“I think we got a cheater on the loose,” Steve grinned, pointing at the ring Sam was trying to discreetly tuck back into his pocket. A friendly gift from T’Challa, no doubt. 

“Nuh-uh, give me the fucking proof, Wilson!” Bucky roared, wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck and tugging him forward. “I will not admit defeat if there was foul play involved!”

Sam escaped the hold, climbing onto the rock located to the side of the flag and a sign that read ‘do not climb on rocks’. 

“It just helped me calculate all things geometry, Barnes. We’re good.”

Bucky looked as if he was going to leap on him again, but before he could even finish that thought, Sam slipped on the wet surface and plummeted into the rushing little river. 

Laughter erupted and did not cease until you were escorted out of the fairgrounds by four security guards. 

     A flick of Wanda’s wrist and a new memory began forming, colors blending like an oil painting, dried and covered with a glossy varnish, ready to hang. 

     “Don’t trip on your way up, kid.”

Peter swatted Steve in the side as the super soldier left the room, leaving Peter alone in front of the full-length mirror. He adjusted his tie and tried to lay that pesky dangling strand of hair over the top of his head.

You got up from the couch and made your way over, wrapping your arms around Peter and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do great. We’re all so proud.”

“It’s just high school…”

You frowned and turned him to face you. “No, you should already be in your second year of college. This is seven years in the making. We are all so proud.”

Peter could feel the slight burn at the corner of his eyes but he swallowed it down, giving you a small smile and a hug. 

“And can you trip? Don’t you stick to all surfaces?”

Peter scoffed and pushed you away, his tiny smile never faltering.

     You could feel Wanda shift her legs underneath you, searching for the most comfortable position as she continued her work. You sighed, already feeling the therapeutic effects. 

     “They’re all so pretty!” you yelled cheerfully, running through the field with your arms extended to the sky. Bucky and Steve followed close behind, leaning down every so often to pluck the flower of their choosing and adding to the bouquet in their hand. 

“Which did Tony prefer?” Steve asked, snapping you from your pollen-filled, ecstatic state. 

“Aesthetic beauty, Rogers! Natasha was a sucker for anything pink and sunflowers.”

Bucky nodded, seeming to take that information into consideration as he plucked the yellow and pink flowers only. Steve chose the most healthy looking flowers, his hand struggling to hold them together as he reached the two dozen mark. 

“I think we’re good. These are good.”

You smiled at both super soldiers and admired their bouquets, leaning over to sniff their masterpieces. “Awesome.”

     Wanda sighed as she neared your last vision, debating on showing you your chosen moment instead of another one. This moment always hurt Wanda as she wasn’t there to witness it, but it was special to you. There were so many others to choose from, but you insisted this was the one you always wanted to see. And Wanda was always hesitant at first - but when she lifted her hand slowly and dropped the memory back into the front of your brain, she couldn’t help but smile. 

     “Are we ready?”

Everyone was practically bouncing on their heels, both excited and terrified. Time travel was new to humanity and you were to be one of the first to experience such a thrill. You were going to get everyone back. 

You squeezed Natasha’s hand once more before you walked back over to Thor and Rocket. You all nodded to each other, saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck’ with your childlike expressions. 

“See you in a minute,” Natasha grinned, her cheeks reddening with a friendly blush as she looked over at Steve. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, a braid you had helped her make, and she was carrying an extra pair of socks in case of a long hike. 

Then a blast of color surrounded your body and the smell of peaches as you landed on Asgard filled your overstimulated senses. 

     You opened your eyes and smiled up at Wanda. You didn’t want to see old memories with your friend, but the most recent. It was like you were grasping onto that last memory of her, not wanting to change anything about her last smile, her last laugh, her last shred of existence. It was oddly calming, and so you hoped Wanda would understand. 

You thanked her again and proceeded to the kitchen. It was bigger than the one before, the soft forest green color of the walls a nice contrast from the blue ones before. You laughed to yourself and your conscience as you silently thanked the explosion that obliterated the horrid blue walls, quickly backtracking at your dumb thoughts. Still, you chose to joke about everything that happened before to avoid falling deeper into yourself. The kettle started howling, smoke circling around the tip. You poured your tea, dropped two cubes of sugar in, and added a little milk. 

It was quite bizarre how quickly you could bounce back from the morning you had. A very bloody, order-filled morning. When one order was given, you had to come up with a plan on how to not disregard the other. You had to listen to Fury and your father, gaining a few feet on each side without toppling the other. Still, it took a physical toll on you. But with Wanda’s help in easing your mind and the very sweet tea you nursed, your emotional baggage was pretty minimal. It sometimes scared you how easy it all was. 

Your morning carried on quietly as you sat on the concrete curb, happily sipping your tea in your sweatpants. You could hear Sam and Scott arguing about something a few feet away from you and Bucky taking his afternoon jog around the track. Quite distracted, the sudden ‘thwip’ and superhero landing of a certain teenager scared you enough to spill a little of your tea. 

“Goddamn, dude!” you whined, looking up at Peter as he tried to control his laughter. 

 “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me!”

“Excuse me for being distracted by the hot super soldier just over there,” you joked, pointing over at Bucky. 

Peter rolled his eyes and sat next to you, immediately reaching over to take the tea from you and take a sip himself. You let him, as you had no other choice, rolling your eyes anyway. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had classes today?”

Peter handed back your cup, “Nah, I’ve only got classes every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ugh, that sounds great. I remember I scheduled my classes for every day of the week just to have more units,” you sighed, taking another sip of tea. 

 “Stupid.”

You pushed Peter’s shoulder playfully, both your laughter catching the attention of Sam and Scott. But as quickly as you had distracted them, they ignored you and went back to bickering. 

“I’m just here to see my friends, sue me!”

“Nope, you’re always welcome,” you smiled, holding out your wrist and bumping your bracelet with his. “How was your week otherwise?”

“Eh, nothing major. Just trying to navigate the world now that they know who's behind the mask.”

You gave Peter a look of sympathy, still mad at the sudden manipulation of the kid after such traumatic events. You had promised him you would protect him by any means possible, as did the rest of the team, but he seemed to be navigating the situation just fine. Staying away from reporters, scheduling his classes during the most isolated gaps of the day, and signing dozens of forms that promised to protect him, give him royalties, etc. After you had brought everyone back, it seemed the least the new management/orders could provide for you all. 

“We all have our days,” you muttered, handing your tea back to Peter. You two sat there for a while longer, enjoying the slight breeze and taste of sugar. 

An agent rounded the corner and spotted you, jogging up and handing you a yellow folder that was sealed in plastic. “For you, from Fury, from whoever before that.”

“Um, thank you?” you said as the agent walked away. You inspected the folder, turning it over in your hands and playing with the thin plastic. 

You lifted it up to Peter’s face, “Here, smell it and tell me if there’s poison.”

Peter scoffed, “I can’t do that!”

“Don’t you lie to me.”

Peter muttered to himself as he took the folder from you, sniffing it awkwardly. “Smells like paper, dude.”

“Cool, thanks.” 

You ripped the plastic off and unhooked the folder, dropping the single item onto your lap. Peter just sipped your tea and watched you open it. 

It was another envelope, but this one was white with custom-printed indents that swirled across the front and a big, red blob of wax smushed- with your initials- sealing it. You ripped it open and pulled the invitation from inside. You must have read it a thousand times, eyes rapidly scanning the small page with secret meanings. 

“You got invited to a wedding?” Peter asked, taking it from you and reading it himself. 

“Yeah, but this is so much more than that,” you said, snatching it back and standing up from the curb. You quickly went back into the compound, searching for the one person who needed to read it also.

You seemed to find everyone before you found the super soldier who wasn’t out for a jog, a line of somewhat concerned superheroes following behind you from room to room. Eager minds and yet, inflexible rib cages full of anxiety and worry, all ready (and quite not) to tackle the new evils of this new world. And whether they followed you blindly or with functioning minds, they were prepared. 

With the rest of the team behind you, you burst through the second floor with the invitation held over your head. Steve stopped mid-bite, milk dripping from his bottom lip as he stared at everyone in confusion. “Um…”

“It’s time-” you started, pulling the stool from next to him and sitting down. 

“Time for what?” Steve interrupted, his mouth still full of cereal.

“Time for this,” you motioned to the envelope you were handing him. “-to finally end.”

Steve read the invitation word for word, the wrinkles in his forehead becoming deeper as his mind worked. You couldn’t quite discern the feeling in the pit of your stomach, twisting and spinning into a tight coil, seeming to spread to the others as it grew in pressure within you. 

“All three?”

“All three,” you confirmed. 

Peter pushed through Bruce and Rhodey, “What’s happening? What’s gonna end?”

You looked over at Steve, his bowl of cereal now forgotten and soggy. 

His eyes were distant and rather cold, hands extended on his knees as if he was drying the accumulating sweat, shoulders building tension. 

“Steve, we can finally end this. We have to tell everyone. It won’t be enough if it’s just you and me.”

He wanted to explode, in both anger and anguish, to stumble over his intact persona and leave it behind - someone he hasn’t known for a long time. It ate away at him each day since Fury notified him of your selfish choice, burrowing into his now tarnished soul in the most sadistic way. But the prospect of finishing this chapter - a chapter that was unexpectedly halted when half the world disappeared - was considerably euphoric. A chance to move on. 

“Okay.”

Rhodey already had knowledge of your background, recruitment, and family but Steve’s initial involvement - the start of it - was still a mystery. You sat everyone down in the living room, making room for the others who arrived later, and clapped your hands together. “Story time!”

Steve groaned, face already pressed against a throw pillow. “Just tell them.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“You know whose spawn I’m from,” you began, snickers from your amused friends encouraging you. “To better transport their product, they sent me over to the states to attend college like the good little girl they think I am.”

Sam cracked open a beer and lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting back with a massive smile on his face as he got comfortable for your story. He handed another beer to Scott. 

“Wait, product?” Scott asked, taking a sip from his drink. 

You smirked at him and tapped your nose twice, amused by his ‘O’ reaction. “Anyway, by then I already knew that I wanted out of the game. I didn’t like that life, I didn’t like the violence, I didn’t like my family.”

Steve knew that was an understatement, a cruel and restrained statement from your part, and he wanted to tell everyone just how justified you were in your words, how real you were being, and how much help you would certainly need for this. But like always, he remained silent. 

“But Fury got to me before I could leave. So, we made a deal. I would train as a field agent and he would promote me every other year to lessen suspicion on this whole ordeal. The deal being I would play both teams.”

By now, your whole team was intrigued. 

“I would do what I could for my father and still have my family’s trust, while feeding the information to SHIELD and our lovely star-spangled man over here,” you pointed over at Steve. He gave you a tiny but forced smile. 

“But after the collapse of SHIELD, my father only became more violent, more hard-headed, more suspicious. He- uh-” you stuttered, flashbacks suddenly filling your head. Wanda watched your eyes dart rapidly, sensing the rush of blood to your legs and tips of your fingers.

“He was power hungry,” Wanda said, immediately feeling your heart rate lower. Although you never actually said it, she could tell you were grateful for her intrusion. 

“Yeah, exactly,” you cleared your throat. “But Steve’s involvement all started when Fury asked me who would be the best front - the most reliable front.”

“So, with only Fury and the bad guys knowing - Y/N named me as her partner in crime,” Steve explained, head hanging low as if it was such a disgrace to do what you openly did. You knew his troubles with coming to terms with such an offensive role were multiplying daily, but you were now this close to stopping  every bad force involved. 

 “So, Captain America is the ultimate drug smuggler,” Scott spoke, somehow trying to comprehend the information all at once. You and Steve both nodded in confirmation and avoided the wide and questioning eyes looking back at you. 

“Yeah, he’s essentially the top boss.”

“Y/N-,” Steve interjected, but you beat him to  it. 

“And here we are! Him and I both invited to the wedding.”

Wanda stretched out her words, “The wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding - where three of the most famous and powerful drug lords south of the border will be attending and ready for our taking - including my father.”

Steve stood from his seat, posture straightening as he spoke to the group. “The invitation reads like a threat. No cameras, no plus-ones besides those listed specifically on the card, no speaking to reporters before or after. The trust Y/N has gained would unknowingly make us the contraband of the party.”

After going through more specifics about the whole situation, Bucky finally raised the question eating away at his mind this whole time. “Whose wedding is it, anyway?”

You grinned that stupid little grin Steve always prepared himself for. It was the grin you would display whenever you were going to make a serious matter a joke, or brush something serious off your shoulder as if it didn’t bother you. The sarcastic grin he always wanted to wipe off your face as you defied orders. 

“My lovely little sister’s.”

Rhodey stepped forward to take the invitation for personal inspection, “When is it?”

“A week from tomorrow,” you beamed. “Which means I got to get shopping for a wonderful little, red number!”

“Please, be more excited about this,” Steve groaned, sarcasm dripping off each syllable. 

You flicked your right hand up and in position to flash your charming little middle finger at him, a river of fluffed ego and delight flowing to your cheeks as he huffed and left the room in a stumbled march.

“So…” Scott’s voice ripped through the awkward silence. “We’ve been secret drug smugglers this whole time?”

~

Please let me know what you think! I listened “The Archer” by Taylor Swift and I was like... yes, I see this, lmao. Tell me if you would like to be tagged in later updates! xxMoni

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎

__________________________

𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

(𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍) tieddown-withbattleshipchains said:

Hey Dear ❤️ May I ask for a Bucky Barnes imagine where he is your ex-boyfriend but you meet again sometime randomly in New York. So you end up spending the evening together and just talk about everything. Later he walks you home but you ask him to join you, which leads to a night full of love making. In the morning he makes breakfast in bed for you and asks you for a second chance? 😊 Maybe his POV too if you want to :)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: smut 18+; it’s kinda vanilla but like pretty passionate? Slight hair pulling, cockwarming, but like that’s it, tiny bit of angst blink and you’ll miss it, major fluff (the holy trinity)

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: thanks for the request bug!! I love this idea :) ps i had tons of requests so i’ll be posting daily for a bit to get them out asap! thanks for y’alls patience :) ______________________________________

“Y/n?” 

You turned your head to the voice. Your eyes met the familiar ocean blueone  you spent so many hours staring into. Your face held a surprised looked before smiling softly at the handsome man you once were so in love with long ago. 

“Buck, is that you?”

He looked so different. His hair was short; he had scruff speckled with gray hairs all over his jaw, his arm wasn’t that familiar silver vibranium you often thought about, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not now especially. 

“Yeah. How are you? You look great.”

“Thank you. You too. You’ve changed, a lot. That’s not a bad thing though-”

“I got it,” he laughed. 

“Sorry,” you laughed, shaking your head before looking back at him.

“Care for a drink?” you asked him.

You two spent hours laughing and telling stories from the time you two have been apart. It was almost like you two never even broke up. You had to remind yourself that whenever Bucky would lay a hand on your hand in a fit of laughter, or on your thigh. But you couldn’t help it, he was so contagious. 

“Well, it’s getting really late I should head home,” you said standing up. You left a big tip for your waiter and tender because it was almost one in the morning and the place was supposed to close at midnight. 

“Let me walk you. You far?” he said standing with you. 

“Oh you don’t have to.”

“Come on. For old times sake.”

His goddamn gorgeous smile. How could you say no to that?

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”

You two walked side by sided in the darkness. You felt safe beside him. You felt comfortable, like you always by his side. Soft illumination from the colorful neon signs lit up the street you were walking down. 

Your apartment wasn’t far, so you two walked for about 10 minutes. Cars were still busy in the early hours of the New York night and people still walked hurriedly up and down the street. But being beside Buck again after all that time apart, it felt like it was just the two of you.

“Well, this is me,” you said walking up the stairs to your front door.

“Are you gonna be ok?” you asked him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said. 

There was a pause between you and you didn’t want him to go just yet. 

“Hey, do you wanna come inside? You know, before we part ways again.”

“I’d love that.”

He stepped inside and took in your surroundings. Your apartment looked practically the same from when Bucky was last there. He regrets leaving you the way he did. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I have coffee, water, another beer?” you chuckled.

“Beer is fine,” he said sitting on the couch; that damn couch. Memories of you riding him came back and he sighed wishing he could go back to those times again. 

“Here you go,” you said holding another for yourself. 

“Place hasn’t changed,” he spoke up.

“Yeah, I- you I’m not good with interior design. And shit’s too hard to move around and replace,” you laughed. 

There was a long moment of silence between you but it wasn’t a comfortable one; it was awkward and unsettling.

“I uh- I’m sorry. For the way things ended.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I kinda figured out what was really going on. You know the whole blip thing. I’m not mad anymore.”

“I’m still really sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Bucky’s heart ached when you said that.

Bucky had shown up one day years ago and left. He told you didn’t love you anymore but you saw through his bullshit. He told that night he was in trouble which wasn't a lie. Thanos had come and Bucky was taking refuge and fighting in Wakanda with Steve, Nat, and Sam after the Accords. He said that you being with him was going to put you in danger. He didn’t say anything else he just kissed you and left. 

His clothes were still in your drawers. His toothbrush stayed untouched. His shampoo used to be in your bathroom but you used if all up when he left depersate to smell his scent since he wasn’t there anymore. 

You were livid to say the least. He had given up on you. He didn’t even talk to you; he didn’t try anything to keep you. So you moved on. But you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t think back on those times at least once a day. Bucky did too. Now after chaos decreased, you realize he did what he thought was best and you forgave him.

“I think about you everyday, Y/n.”

You looked at him with eyes but your head was still down; your eyes avoiding his directly though afraid you’d fall again. He had a new arm; black with beautiful specks of gold in every line and crease of the metal, you assume. 

“I miss you,” he ever so slightly scooted closer to you, as did you subconsciously. 

You couldn’t say anything. You felt frozen.

“I regret how I left. God, I hated myself so much for so long. I still do.”

“Don’t. It was stupid of me to hate you for saving the world.”

“Why are you so perfect?” Bucky leaned in slowly, moving a hair from your face. 

“Buck,” you whispered. 

“Yes?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“You want me to stop?”

You paused.

“No,” you leaned forward and attached your lips to him. 

Bucky’s hand curled into your hair, pulling you flushed against him. Your hands tugged at his shirt doing the same. You two kissed for what felt like hours before you stood abruptly surprisingly Bucky. 

You grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom; where you two spent most of your time together memorizing each other’s bodies. Where you’ll get to do so again tonight; even if it’s the last time. 

Bucky pressed your back against the door when you both stumbled in. He kissed hungrily like it was last time he’d get to do so. You two were both a little tipsy, not fully sure if either of your actions were genuine or touch-starved.

It didn’t matter in the moment anymore when Bucky’s lips attacked your neck making you moan and pant, each breath pressed your chest to his. His hands went under your shirt cupping your breasts; the stark contrast between his hands bringing memories back.

You kissed again before pulling his shirt over his head and discarding yours just as quickly. You felt frenzied; clouded by lust and need for the man you still love in front of you. He crawled back on the bed after all his clothes had been shed. 

You crawled up his body smiling and biting your lip. You felt yourself getting wetter just at the sight of Bucky fisting his cock; he bit his bottom lip as well looking at you with hungry eyes.

You straddled his hips feeling his dick poking the inside of your thigh. You cupped his face, his scruff scratching the palm of your hand. His hands rubbed your hips and cheeks as he closed his eyes, basking in your attention he craved for so long. 

You lifted your hips to sink down onto Bucky; you both simultaneously moaned at the feeling you both ache for. It didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, Buck’s size always had some getting use to. 

“Sorry, I think I’m ok now,” you whimpered.

“It’s ok, doll. Take your time; I remember how needy you get with my cock, huh, baby?”

“Bucky,” you moaned. 

You grinded yourself on his dick, each thrust brushing your clit making you shudder in pleasure. Bucky grabbed your hair and pulled it hard exposing your neck and arching you back. His lips kissed and nibbled on the skin of your neck, you gasped when he kissed a particular part.

“I remember, baby,” he smiled.

“Of course you do,” you breathed out laughing. 

“I thought about this everyday since I left. I thought about those pretty sounds you’re making bouncing on my cock. I thought these gorgeous tits pressing up against me. I thought about how good this pussy feels wrapped around me. Baby, you were made for me and if you think I’m gonna let you go again you got it wrong.”

His words brought you to the edge and you climaxed with a loud high pitched moan. Your body practically shook against Bucky’s. Bucky chased his own release flipping you over and rutting his hips into you wildly. 

When he did his hips stuttered and his head buried in your neck. He moaned loudly in your ear and you almost came again just from that. His arms collapsed and his body flopped on you. 

Blissed out, you softly scratched his back. His breath slowly even out and you figured he’d fallen asleep. You scratched his head as well before closing your eyes and falling asleep as well.

You woke up alone. You were secretly hoping that you’d wake up beside Bucky but no. you wobbled out of bed into the bathroom seeing the mirror fogged up. He took a shower and left, great. So much for last night. 

You washed your face in an attempt to put some wake in you and put some clothes on. You walked out to the kitchen to make breakfast but was surprised to find Bucky playing some old tunes on the radio and making you breakfast?

“Awe, man. And I was just about to bring you breakfast in bed, doll,” he smiled, holding a plate of food.

“I thought you left,” you said softly.

“I took a shower and wanted to make you something before we… part ways… again,” he sounded sad towards the end of that sentence; like he didn’t actually want to leave. Honestly, you didn’t want him to either.

“You don’t have leave,” you whispered, Bucky long turned the radio off. 

“I don’t want to, truthfully,” Bucky said.

“Then stay.”

“You must love me if you want me to stay after what I did,” he said, walking up to you.

“What if I do?” you asked.

“Then I’d be the happiest man in the world.”

You kissed him softly, feeling him melt into your kiss. 

“Promise you won’t leave again? No matter what happens?” you asked.

“I promise.”

[moonbeamwritings]

one missed call

Summary: You were haunted by what happened in Egypt. The loss of your friends and the disconnect from the others that came in the years afterwards weighed heavily on your mind. One night, after a horrible day at work, you find that you received a voicemail from someone you never thought you’d hear from again: Jotaro Kujo.

Author’s Note: This is a little different from what I normally post. A little less fluff, a little more angst. There are very brief mentions of blood, but they’re vague. Let me know what you think!

The second you stepped through your apartment door and closed it, you slumped back with a sigh. “Worst day ever,” you spoke aloud. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag, you collapsed onto your couch, relishing in the silence of your living room.

This time of year was always… difficult, to say the least. Not only were the holidays beyond stressful in and of themselves, but you were reminded, more so than any other time of year, of the loss of your dear friends.

Every night over the past week had graced you with images of gore, the rush of blood and water, and the whirring screech of an ambulance coupled with the muffled voices of Speedwagon Foundation medics, their hushed conversations blaring in your ears despite their quiet tones.

“Noriaki Kakyoin. Time of death approximately-”

You shook the thought from your head, feeling all the more sick to your stomach. Your day at work hadn’t been easy given your current state, but your boss refused reason, seemingly working you harder knowing that you were suffering. You were tired, in more ways than one.

You flicked the television on and disappeared down the hallway. If I’m gonna be upset, you thought, I might as well be comfortable. Tugging a warm, soft sweater over your head and a pair of sweatpants up your legs, you were ready to tackle whatever horrible tv show was on and whatever leftovers you had in the fridge.

You reheated some take-out you’d had over the weekend and dropped back onto the couch, mind slowly shutting down at the sight of a brainless, campy reality tv show on one of the stations. Perfect.

Your position on the couch gave you a clear view of your phone, resting on a small table across the room.

Blink blink. Blink blink.

The green answering machine light was on, which almost never happened. Nobody calls me, you thought curiously. You muted the tv and made your way over to the phone, a funny feeling bubbling in your stomach.

Clicking play, you felt your heart stop in your chest, completely ceasing to beat as it knocked the air from your lungs.

“Hi,” a deep, smooth voice spoke through the phone, “This is Jotaro Kujo. I hope I’ve reached the right number.”

Your mouth fell open as you heard him. It was really him. You hadn’t spoken to Jotaro since you last saw him at the airport in Egypt, 10 years ago. You would scoff if you didn’t miss him so damn much. Back then, he’d looked at you like he had something to say, but it seemed as though he opted to bite his tongue. When Polnareff had pulled you all into a group hug before returning to France, you had a sinking feeling in your chest. DIO had been defeated, sure, but something still didn’t seem right.

You moved on, as they all seemed to. You returned home, you went back to some semblance of normalcy despite the nightmares, the loneliness. You had half a mind to be pissed, to ignore the phone call and to kick Jotaro out of your life for good, dealing with the spiraling thoughts all on your own. You couldn’t do it anymore, though, and that’s what compelled you to hang on to his every word.

“I, um-” There was a pregnant pause, almost so long that you had assumed he hung up, “I hope you’re doing well.” He let out a short laugh. There was no joy in it. “Well, as good as you can be, I guess.”

“I wanted to call to apologize. Leaving you in the dark for so long, letting you live with the grief all on your own, knowing that I was going through the same things. It never sat well with me. The old man said that just telling you what’s been going through my head might help, even if you tell me to fuck off. I know my emotions are nowhere near as obvious as I think they are.”

You felt your heart start to beat again, slowly going faster and faster until it was little more than hammering in your chest.

“Yare yare daze, I guess I just-” Jotaro cut himself off again, a creak in a chair sounded in the background, “I couldn’t handle it. I know it’s a pathetic excuse and I know you must be angry with me. You might not even listen to this message. I wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t.”

How could I not, you thought in silent response.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to reach out, well, until now. You reminded me of everything I felt like I couldn’t have, what I can’t have.”

You found your brows creasing in confusion.

“I was in love with you back then.” Another mirthless laugh, a beat of silence. “I guess I still am. That’s why I called. Look, I’m sorry for going radio silent, for not reaching out… for everything. I was afraid and I felt like I didn’t deserve you.”

Hot, wet tears began racing down your cheeks and you had to place a hand over your mouth to stifle a sob. You closed your eyes as the message played on.

“I don’t deserve you. I’m being selfish, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to see you, if you’ll have me.” The call fell silent again and you could swear you heard Jotaro let out a soft sound, a sniffle followed by a clearing of his throat. When he returned to the phone, you could hear the emotion in his voice.

“I’m sorry. If you get this, give me a call. Bye.”

With the click of the phone, your living room was plunged into silence, save for the sound of your soft cries. You furiously wiped at your tears as they fell, walking back to sit down on the couch to will your heart to just slow down, if only for a minute.

Your mind was reeling, sending your whole world spiraling upside down. All over just one phone call.

He’d been in love with you? Then, and even now?

It was hard to believe, which made the whole situation that much worse. Why now? Why in this way? Had he, too, been thinking about that fateful trip to Egypt all those years ago? Was November and December just as difficult for him as it was for you?

It was painful, dealing with endless thoughts all while fat, salty tears raced down your face, dampening the sleeves of your sweater with every swipe at your eyes. You leaned back against the armrest, losing yourself in the nonexistent patterns decorating your ceiling.

Thinking back now, perhaps all this time spent with no word from him was so upsetting all because you were in love with him. How stupid, you blubbered, to be thrust into such an emotional upheaval all over a boy you’d fallen in love with at 17. It’s not fair.

He hadn’t even called, or tried to. He had ten years to do so and clearly he knew someone who could connect him to you. You rolled your eyes at the thought of the Speedwagon Foundation’s involvement in all of this. It was frustrating, racing back and forth between anger, sadness, and elation.

You resolved to deal with this mess tomorrow. Maybe sleep will help, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, eager to shut your eyes.

Sleep did not come so easily because of course it didn’t. Echoes of his words rattled in your mind, playing on a loop as if to torment you, to make your nights even more sleepless. 

Before you knew it, the sun was up.

As if to give you some sort of reprieve, you were off from work. A small treat from the universe to say, you can rest, just this once.

You practically dragged your body down the hallway, eyes stinging with a lack of sleep and unshed tears. With breakfast sorted, you sat down to listen to the voicemail again. You weren’t sure if you were just trying to make yourself more upset or if the warm, orange glow of the sun shining through your blinds would bring you some form of clarity.

The second time through did little else but convince you that you needed to talk to Jotaro, no matter how painful it may end up being.

With a shaking hand, you reached out to dial his number, taking each digit slowly as a way to delay the inevitable. The line began to ring and you could almost feel your mouth running dry, the thudding of your heart threatening to burst your chest open. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to keep the water in your eyes from spilling over.

After four rings, you could hear Jotaro answer, “Hello?”

The ringing in your ears, the pounding in your heart, they didn’t stop with the sound of his voice.

“Uh hi, Jotaro? It’s me.”

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 26, Post #1 by @cheesyficwriter

Title: The Greatest Chapter 

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Prompt: Moving in together

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: None

Prompt: Moving in together 

  The Greatest Chapter

At age 10, I had the most embarrassing schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter. I'd see him and run in the opposite direction, painting the perfect image of me as a young girl who lacked the confidence needed to formulate words — any words — around someone I liked. 

Before getting to know Harry for who he really was, I was so infatuated with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted so desperately to be going to Hogwarts with Ron before I was old enough, knowing that Harry Potter would be there too. 

The way Harry took on a basilisk to save my life during my first year did nothing but solidify my growing feelings for him. My crush never really went away but instead transformed into a casual friendship based upon our shared experience in the Chamber of Secrets, a friendship that I was willing to accept at the time because I just wanted to be around him. 

As we grew up, I started to relax more in his presence. We gained a mutual respect for one another, exchanging laughs in the Great Hall and sharing in-jokes during Christmases at the Burrow. Those little moments, in between all of the chaos and turmoil of what used to be, helped me learn a few things about Harry that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise — not even on the front page of The Daily Prophet.  

When I was younger, I admired Harry because I was under the impression that he possessed traits that I didn’t. I never imagined that I could be as brave, or courageous, or charismatic as he was to me. What surprised me the most about our developing friendship at Hogwarts was that there were far more similarities between us than differences. We shared the same wicked sense of humor — that I like to say I inherited from my plethora of brothers — yet could still hold my own during quick-witted battles, and I often found myself looking at Harry whenever something made me laugh, just to see if he was laughing, too. My stomach always spiraled when, more often than not, I found him looking back at me. We used our shared humor to our advantage, and I was thankful for that small respite in the midst of so much darkness. 

We shared the same values, both of us realizing the importance of family, friends, and love above everything else. It’s what we fought for every day, even when it seemed like we were too young to really know what love was. 

As our friendship continued, my romantic feelings for Harry were buried deep down in a place where I was once convinced they would stay. I decided to throw all of my energy into school, developing my skills as a witch, thus growing the confidence I needed along the way to put myself out there with other, more available boys. 

For years, we were caught up in our own lives, and it shocked me more than anyone to have captured Harry’s attention when I least expected it. From the first moment he kissed me, I never hesitated. All of those feelings I had attempted to bury came rushing back to the surface, like revealing a galleon that I had stashed at the bottom of my trunk. 

I will never forget those few stolen weeks we had together when I was 15 and he was 16. He described it as something out of someone else’s life, and at the time, I had thought that was all we would ever be. Time was fleeting, and there wasn’t enough of it. 

Harry had no choice but to dedicate his life to fighting for the wizarding world, and I was always determined to be right there beside him, up until the point where I couldn’t. I was smart enough to understand why he didn’t ask me to come with him. It was his mission. His, Ron’s, and Hermione’s. I didn’t often miss the times the three of them carried on by themselves, engaging in secret conversation and disappearing without the faintest clue of their whereabouts until much later. 

On that fateful day that Harry broke things off, I already knew what he was so desperately trying to convey to me. If I were to have accompanied him on the Horcrux hunt, it would’ve been me he was worried about instead of finding the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were crucial to defeating him. 

That notion — although tragic in a sense — gave me more pleasure than the feeling of scoring an impossible goal during a Quidditch match. 

Regardless, Harry was never far from my mind those long months that he was gone. My childhood crush seemed silly at that point because I had gained so much more than a fleeting romance. 

As time passed, and Harry and I found our way back to each other after Voldemort's defeat, it took us a minute to catch our bearings and resume our relationship that we had put on an indefinite pause. 

It hadn’t always been easy dating him. In fact, dealing with the fame that Harry carried around with him from being a war hero had been a lot harder than I ever anticipated. But it was always unspoken that we managed, despite what any publishings had to say about us. 

I came to love him, not for being Harry Potter, but for who he truly was. His heart. His courage.  

As I stood reflecting on my relationship with Harry in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, I was overcome with emotion. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was the one we were destined to have, and that made every hardship worth it. 

The room housed a large window overlooking the street, a charming — albeit dusty — fireplace, and ornate fixtures. For a person who just moved in, I felt like the house itself could have been in worse shape. Harry did an exceptional job keeping the place organized, especially for someone who, up until just a few days ago, lived there by himself. 

That’s not to say I hadn’t already spent plenty of nights at Grimmauld Place over the last couple of years. In fact, I probably spent more nights there than I did at the Burrow once I returned home from my final year at Hogwarts. 

It was during those nights that I discovered just a fraction of the pain Harry went through. He’d always been intensely emotional, and so many nights I spent shaking him from his residual nightmares of the trauma he went through, despite the wizarding world being in a much better place. I comforted him the best I could in those moments, determined to make it clear to him that I’m never letting go — not this time. 

I smiled to myself as I took a seat on the piano bench, observing the peeling paint from one of the large, cracked walls. We had a lot of work to do, but moving in together was a proper next step for us. 

"Gin? Are you home?" Harry’s voice carried through the dusty walls. 

Before I could respond, Harry was already standing in the open archway, head tilted to the side with curiosity etched across his face. “Were you just staring at a blank wall?”

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him know about my extensive reflection into our past. “So what if I was, Potter?”

He looked as if he wanted to question my retort further but instead joined me at the piano, bumping his shoulder with mine. 

“It’s a lot of fun coming home to you,” he admitted, the rich, melodic sound of the piano filling the open space from his fingertips pressing against one of the keys. 

“You know that’s practically how we were before, right? When was the last time we spent a night apart?”

Harry shrugged, and it was clear he never really thought about it. “Dunno, but it was one night too many, I reckon.”

I sighed, wanting to ask a question that had been weighing on my heart. “Do you find it odd that we’ve never really argued? I mean, even when you broke up with me-”

“Why must we go back to that?” Harry interrupted, a pained look crossing his face. 

I gave him a playful pat on the arm. I wanted our past to be something positive we could look back on and didn’t fancy dwelling on the shit times. 

“Shush. I’m just saying, even though it hurt a lot to not know where you were for almost a year, I always understood your decision. You had to go.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, clearly still trying to work out the point of the conversation. “Where are you going with this?”

“I just-I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I rubbed my temple to ease my stressed-out mind. “I’m actually worried that we will never fight.”

“Oh, we’ll fight.”

I turned towards Harry, who was too busy fiddling with the piano keys to even look at me. He responded straight away, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “How can you be so certain?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve witnessed you get all hot-headed when you disagree with other people.” He sent me a dazzling grin, reaching out to trail his fingers through my stray ginger strands that hung loose from my ponytail. “You’ve got that fiery red hair. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Hey!”

“In fact,” Harry smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I think you’re the most problematic person I know, Ginevra.”

Harry yelped when I pinched his forearm. “You prat.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “In all seriousness, though, we’re going to be fine.”

I stared at him in awe but leaned into him. “You are so sure of yourself.”

He grabbed my shoulders, pivoting our bodies so that we were facing each other on the bench. “You wanna know how sure I am?”

Before I could respond or even react, he kissed me full on the mouth. He growled as our kiss intensified, and all at once, our positions shifted as I felt a sharp pain in my back from my body making contact with the piano keys with a resounding trill. I was left dizzy and breathless, snogging Harry as a wave of happiness resonated through me. 

When he pulled away, his fierce emerald eyes locked on mine set my mind ablaze. “Does that answer your question?”

I decided his question didn’t require a verbal response, so I simply attached my hand to the nape of his neck before dragging his face back to mine. We didn’t talk much for a while after that. 

I knew, perhaps more than anyone else, how much Harry desired moving forward from the past. I’m ready, too, to start the greatest chapter of our lives.

[tinisprout]

Not as a Friend

Pairing: Heeseung x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word count: 2,485

Summary: The two of you have always been close to each other. Saying, I love you, as friends, since young. But your feelings are deeper than that of a friend. A confession pushes you to tell him how you really feel, even if it might ruin your friendship.

A/N: It's been a millennium since I've written. This is also my first time writing in First Person so this was a struggle. Still, I hope it's not too bad. *I wrote this with the thought of the Reader and Heeseung being high school seniors, already 18, but I never specified age or grade in the story, so I guess it doesn't really matter. Anyways, enjoy!

The walk home with Heeseung today feels unbearable, I know that he keeps glancing in my direction, I know he’s worried after seeing my face in class. That makes it hurt even more, he’s so kind and caring, what did I do to deserve a friend like him? We continue our walk back home in silence and I think about the past.

I like you and I love you are very straightforward words, but depending on the context of the relationship they can have a different meaning. I remember the first time I said I loved him, it was a very wholesome moment. We were only six, our mothers watched us play together in the park, “They haven’t known each other for very long but they get along so well,” my mother said gleefully.

“Yes, they must really like each other,” Heeseung’s mother replied. I lifted my head to look at Heeseung, our eyes met and we smiled at each other. Hearing their conversation, I turned to them ready to tell the world about my friend.

“I love Heeseung, he is my best friend!” I grabbed his hands, they were just as small as mine. Heeseung leaned into me, flashing a dazzling smile to our parents.

“I love y/n too.” It was so innocent. For a long time after that, we never had a problem saying, I love you, to each other. It was just a casual statement between friends. In instances when saying goodbye to each other or times when we would annoy each other, one of us would say, ‘you still love me, don’t you?’ and the other would reply ‘...I still love you.’

It changed when we were older and our peers would make fun of us for saying it so casually. I wasn’t bothered by the teasing, but Heeseung would always try to defend the innocence of our relationship, “Guys, we don’t like each other. We're just friends, this is just how we have always been with each other.” I had already started to develop feelings for him, maybe I was feeling guilty because when I would say, I love you, it wasn’t so much in a platonic way anymore. So one day I drew a line.

“Heeseung, you know I love you, right?” We sat in his living room, relaxing after we came back from school.

“What’s wrong?” I guess my tone didn’t sound too happy, he looked concerned as he looked at me in silence waiting for my answer.

“I think we should stop saying, I love you, to each other...not just in front of our classmates, but probably when we’re alone too.” He sat up straight quickly, pushing his hair back.

“What, why? Is it because of all the teasing?” I couldn’t meet his eyes and tell him the real reason.

“Not really, I’ve just been thinking. We aren’t in love with each other or anything, we’re just friends. When you do end up dating someone, I don’t want to be the problem in your relationship. If I was in their shoes, I think I would be jealous. So...yeah.” I looked back up at him, he looked at me too, seeming to be thinking and searching for something. After the long pause, he slumps back a little and leans his head back, letting out a big sigh.

“If that’s how you feel then we can do that.”

“Hey come on, it’s not like I suddenly stopped caring about you.”

“Ha, yeah.” He gave a small smirk. We continued our evening together with a somewhat awkward atmosphere.

Not long later, I regretted what I said that day. Most people were finished with class cleaning, same for me. I was packing my things, getting ready to leave school with Heeseung like we do every day. Weirdly enough Heeseung usually finishes before me and comes to me first, but he wasn’t here yet. I walk to his classroom after I'm done getting ready, and yet still, I didn’t see him. I asked some of his classmates, “Hey, do you know where Heeseung is?”

“Uh, he left with a girl a little while ago, but he didn’t take his stuff,” one of his classmates answered, pointing to his bag half-packed on his desk, he didn’t take his phone either. Many thoughts flew through my head, but the loudest one was, ‘He’s getting confessed to.’ I pursed my lips and then said my thanks to his classmates and left back to my classroom. I wanted to take his bag, pack it for him, but the thought of finding out that he said yes, I don’t think I could look at him, it would hurt too much.

I sat down on my seat in the now-empty class, laying my head down and covering my head with my arms. ‘A confession doesn’t take long, I’ll wait for 10 minutes max. If he doesn’t come to get me then I’ll just leave.’ I gripped onto my forearms, ‘I should be happy for him if he says yes to her.’ I started to anxiously bounce my leg, ‘Please, come back soon.’ It felt like an eternity left alone with my thoughts. The sounds outside the classroom slowly softened as students continued to leave. Within the muted sounds came pounding footsteps and then the sound of the door slamming open. Startled, my head shoots up from the desk and I look to the door. There he was, bag slung on one shoulder, his breathing irregular from running, a nervous smile on his face as he let out a just as nervous chuckle.

“Thank goodness you're still here, I wasn’t sure if you left without me. And sorry, I had to do something really quick.” His face fell when he saw my face go from shocked to one that was holding back tears, emotional upheaval nearby. “What’s wrong? What happened?” his eyes were filled with concern as he quickly went up to me kneeling in front of my seat. His head now lower than mine, I looked down at him.

“Heeseung,” my voice had a slight tremble. “I- can we go to your place first...I’ll be ready to tell you then.”

“Of course,” he wrapped his arms around my body, it was such a natural gesture. “It’s gonna be okay.” I hoped it was going to be okay and that he wouldn't leave me after this.

"I-I would never leave without you," even though I said only 10 minutes, I would have waited till the sunset, till there was no more hope. With those last words I pull away from him and we walk out of the classroom without another word and made the seemingly long walk home. Finally, at his home, his parents are still at work it seems so we head straight upstairs. He gets into his normal spot on his bed but instead of leaning against the wall, he sits forward, looking at me. My normal spot would be next to him but I just stood in front of his bed. I don't want to make him uncomfortable after what I'm about to tell him.

"Before I say anything else, I just want to confirm something, if you are comfortable with sharing. What did you have to do during cleaning time?" Heeseung processed for a bit and then his eyebrows shot up in realization.

"Oh uh…" he hesitates.

"It's fine if you don't want to share." ‘I'm still gonna say what I have to say regardless of the answer, I thought to myself.’

"No, no, it's just a little weird. I…got confessed to," silence.

"...Ah, I thought that was the case."

"I rejected them!” he retorted. “...sorry, I'm not mad at you, I just-” he sighed while putting his head in his hands. “I don’t want to make this about me, but I need to say something to you too,” he looks back up at me. I was startled but I knew he wasn’t angry at me, but he was obviously in distress.

“It’s okay, Heeseung. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. I just hope I don’t ruin the mood after this. Okay, okay, ...sorry, just a little bit longer,” I say, letting out nervous laughter. I start to pace around his room, nerves getting the best of me. I feel my heart pick up speed and I try to keep my breathing under control, clenching and unclenching my fists. I didn’t realize he got up from the bed till I felt his hand squeeze mine. I look at him, freezing up in his gaze. My thoughts are telling me to run away but the heat from his hand was suffocating against my burning one, and yet I didn't want to let go, the feeling told me to stay.

"Hey, you know. You know... I'll love you no matter what. It's okay." Those words that I want so dearly to be true made my heart stop and my body tremble with trepidation. More than anything I didn't want to lose Heeseung, but I care about him, so I don't want to lie and not tell him how I really feel.

"I love you so much. I- I don't know what to do with myself…" My hand squeezes his back, making his hand quiver along with mine. There was heat building up behind my eyes, vision becoming a little blurry.

"It’s okay, breathe. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“No, you don’t get it,” the tears that had been brimming around my eyes finally fell. “I love you and I always will but for a long time now it’s been more than that. I like-like you, I- I’m in love with you! I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. The thought of you being with someone else hurts...so much, but I’ve been too scared to say anything because I don’t want to lose you.” The words became more unsteady, I tried to stop myself from losing complete control of my emotions. I slowly started to sink to the floor and Heeseung followed me down till we popped to the ground in the middle of his room. While stared into each other’s eyes the entire time, I could see Heeseung’s face change, expressing multiple different emotions, none of them seem good.

“...I’m sorry, I d- I didn’t know. I’m sorry, y/n.” Heeseung pursed his lips, he looked like he was about to cry with me. He lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around my body squeezing me tight, repeating, I’m sorry. Are we both trembling now? It’s hard to tell if it’s just me but I wrap my arms around him too and let it all go, my whimpers and sniffles became full-blown sobs. I don’t know how long we cried for, but eventually, our cries came to a hush. It seems like we cried for a long time together and I feel exhausted.

“Ugh, I kinda feel like I have to throw up.” As an attempt to lighten the mood I joke about the very real condition of my stomach, while I pull away from him. Heeseung sniffles and chuckles.

“Yeah, same here,” we look each other in the eyes again. His hands came up and touched my face wiping away the dampness from my cheeks. Even after gently wiping he still kept his hands there. “I’m sorry, that I was a coward. If I just told you how I felt sooner, much sooner, you wouldn’t have to suffer like that. I’m in love with you too…” He pauses to see my reaction as I process this new information. “Pfft, I thought you would have been happy, why are you crying again?” he teases as he rubs at my face again. Even in a moment like this, we can't stop our bantering.

“Shut up, these are tears of happiness,” I hadn’t even realized more tears fell out, I thought I was all cried out. “We are both cowards though. It feels kinda silly now, we’ve cried this much just to say, I love you. When did it all become so complicated?” I sighed, tilting my head a little.

“I don’t know exactly when I fell for you, but when I realized, I knew I wanted you by my side, always, not like before, not as just friends. But I was afraid of ruining our relationship if you didn’t feel the same way.” I grab his shoulders pushing him down to the ground, straddling his body.

We’re so lame, worrying about the same thing, and in the end, we have nothing to worry about, because we both like each other!” Heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“Correction, love each other.” I purse my lips as I look down on him.

“Yeah, I like you, I love you, I’m in love with you! Happy now?

“Yup,” He gave a sly smirk.

“...Damn, I really want to kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?” ‘Fair enough,’ I thought as I leaned down, closing my eyes, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. I could feel his lips form a smile against mine which made me smile too. I pulled away laughing, the happiness I’m feeling right now seems unreal, but looking at his smile, the reddish color that dusted his cheeks and ears told me just how real it was.

“That was nice,” I say as I remove myself from the top of his body and lay beside him.

“Much better than our first kiss. This time I didn’t have to hide how much I like kissing you.” He turns his body to face mine, propping his head with his hand. My eyes widened at this revelation.

“Wait, you liked me since then?”

“Definitely before then, but yes.”

“Ahh, why were we both so oblivious?!” I bring my hands up to cover my face.

“Hey, at least we know now. I don’t plan on letting you go.”

“Oh, dearest boyfriend of mine, who said I was going anywhere without you?” Heeseung grins from ear to ear.

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m sure all our classmates and friends will love to tease us about this when they find out. Heeseung cringes at that statement, not exactly something to look forward to.

Sure enough, when we came to school the next day we decided we were not going to try and hide anything, and walked to school holding hands, fingers intertwined. The hollers from our friends and classmates made us embarrassed, but explanations would come later. Though what left everyone flabbergasted, myself included, is when we had to part ways, going into our classrooms, Heeseung bent down and tilted my head up towards his and kissed me. It was short and he left me in the hall dumbstruck as he scurried to class. The shouts of everyone watching were lost to my ears. I was so gonna get him later for this.

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (5/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

ao3 : beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

-/-

Emma likes seafood.

She likes seafood, but she mostly eats like a ten-year-old boy. Apparently, there’s a little place near her house called Granny’s where she devours grilled cheese and onion rings like arteries aren’t a thing. It makes him laugh when she tells him because she eats how he’s always dreamed of eating. The only time he ever gets the chance is when he’s with his nieces and they convince him to get them food Elsa and Liam never let them get.

She also likes 80’s music, has been working at the Blue Dog for over half a decade, prefers her kickboxing classes to cycling ones, and her favorite color is blue.

That last one was a bit of a throwaway question, but he asked it anyway. Then, of course, he made sure to let her know that his eyes were blue. He got an eye roll and a ‘shut up’ for that before she started rolling her hips again. It was damn distracting, but he didn’t stop laughing at how frustrated she was that he wasted his one personal question a day on that.

One personal question a day.

It’s childish, but he thinks it works. It keeps the line between them defined. He knows what this is, has done it enough times before to not be blind to it. They’re both visitors in each other’s lives. They have expiration dates, and when there’s an expiration date, there’s no harm in spending time together.

There’s no commitment, so there’s no hurt.

He’s not an expert on Emma Swan, no matter how much she fascinates him, but he gets the feeling she’s avoiding relationships just as much as he is. There is a past hurt there, a damned painful one, and if anyone gets that, it’s him.

But he doesn’t ask about that in his one question a day. He asks for her favorite color and food and if she’d rather hike uphill for 10 miles or swim for 20.

For the record, she’d rather hike because she could sit down and eat along the way.

“Would you look at that?” Emma says as she runs her hands under the water of the sink at the bar. “You, sitting at this bar, again.”

He slices his salmon with his knife and grins. “I tried that Granny’s place, but the food had too much grease. Met a rather charming waitress, though.”

“Let me guess. Red streak in her hair, boobs on full display, argued with the owner the entire time?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because that’s Ruby, my best friend.”

“Is she now?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that your personal question of the day?”

“Nope,” he says, taking a bite of his food. “I’m saving that for a later time.”

“A later time,” Emma repeats, like she’s considering the words. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the bar. “What makes you think you’re going to be seeing me at a later time? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks around them and leans closer to her. “Too many clothes.”

Emma laughs, legitimately, and that feels surprisingly good. “I’m literally in a tank top and shorts. That’s about as dressed down as you can get.”

“I was talking about myself, actually. There are too many clothes on me, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of yourself.”

That gets him another laugh and a shake of her head, and he likes that too. He may have no real inclination to become overly attached to her, but he can at least admit to himself that he enjoys her company.

“Shut up.” Someone calls Emma’s name from across the restaurant, and she holds her arm up, putting up one finger. “I get off at The Oaks at eleven. I’ll drop by your place if I’m not too tired.”

“Why the hell are you working there so much?”

“I like the money. And, Jones, that counts as your personal question of the day. I’ll see you later...maybe.”

She grins and winks before walking away, and he swears she puts a little extra sway in her hips. Killian shakes his head as he feels his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What a bloody woman,” he whispers to himself before spearing another piece of his salmon.

-/-

“Right there,” she moans. “Like, seriously, right there. Don’t fucking change anything.”

Kilian smiles against her, but he’s quick to return to what he was doing. Emma’s legs tighten over his shoulders, her hands yank at the sheets, and as much as he is throbbing right now, it’s bloody glorious to have her like this. The filter is gone, so too are the reservations, and he gets a bit of satisfaction knowing this is him doing this to her.

His only skills aren’t on the football pitch after all.

He is definitely a bastard for thinking that right now, but he’s never claimed to be otherwise.

“Fuck,” Emma huffs after she comes down from her high. Her legs shiver over his shoulder, thighs tightening so all the sounds fade for a moment, but then her legs fall and all sounds come back in screaming color. “What did I do to deserve that so early in the morning?”

“It’s ten, love.”

“Yeah, that’s early on my day off.”

Killian laughs and kisses the inside of Emma’s thigh before making his way up her body, planting a final one underneath her collarbone before he collapses on his side of the bed and pulls the sheets above his waist.

“It’s not early for the rest of the world.” He smiles, which she doesn’t appreciate, and she sinks further into the bed, yanking the covers over her. He can still see her flushed cheeks and the slightest content smile on her face. “You should try it sometime. See the sunrise, dodge early morning joggers, eat breakfast at a normal time.”

“Trust me, I’m usually up early enough to want to drive into the early morning joggers while I have a Pop Tart hanging out of my mouth. My summer schedule is just...it’s different than usual.”

He has questions about that. It’s something she’s alluded to before, but he doesn’t know if she’ll count that as his question of a day.

He’s thirty-five years old, and he doesn’t know if he can ask the woman he’s sleeping with more than one question about her life. He knows he’s fucked up a lot, but this seems to be the culmination of several screw ups in his own life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that. Well, no, he has all the time in the world, but lately, the boredom has dissipated, the loneliness too.

Lately, he’s got a damn good distraction, and he’s not about to fuck that up.

Emma flips over on her side, her hair a wild, curly mess. She used his pool last night and didn’t wash her hair after. It’s made it even crazier than usual. He thinks he likes it. Makes her seem less reserved.

His phone rings on his bedside table, and he leans over to pick it up.

“Hello, darling.” Emma’s brow raises, but he ignores her. “How are you?”

“Good,” Elsa says. “We’re all good. The girls are in the garden right now, running around and getting all their energy out. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I’ve been...busy.”

Emma’s hand finds his thigh, and his leg jumps before steadying. She is not about to do what he thinks she’s about to do. Bloody hell.

“Busy?” Elsa asks, as Emma’s hand walks a little closer to his groin. “Doing what? Have you made friends?”

“Why do you always ask me that like I’m a child?”

“Because you’re basically my baby brother.” Killian laughs and then hisses as Emma’s hand wraps around him. She smirks, obviously satisfied with herself, and he knows she’s doing it for the reaction above anything else.

Tease.

He doesn’t mind.

Except this is a poor idea.

“I believe I’m actually older than you.”

“Semantics.”

He laughs again, and Emma’s hand starts working a little more. Fuck. He needs her to stop, and even though she’s doing delicious things to him, she is looking away, acting as bored as can be. And maybe she is, but then he sees one corner of her mouth tick up.

“Mum, is that Killian?” he hears Ally ask, echoed by a squeal from Sophia, who is obviously having the time of her life. There’s a bit of a shuffle, some muted voices, and then his niece’s voice comes through. “When are you coming home?”

“Hello, Ally,” he says, his voice going high when Emma moves her thumb. “How is one of my favorite nieces doing?”

Emma immediately stops and yanks her hand away, practically falling off the bed. She catches herself and kicks up, moving the comforter up and nearly pulling it off him.

“What the actual fuck?” she whispers hisses, slapping him.

He ignores her as Ally asks again when he’s coming home.

“At the end of September, sweetheart,” he promises. “I’ll come home, and then I am going to kiss you right on the cheek.”

“Ew,” she complains, and he can imagine her nose scrunching.

“I also might give you a present.”

“I like that better.”

“Good. I thought you would.” he watches Emma get up and pull a t-shirt out of a drawer. It’s an old Man. United shirt, and he pretends that doesn’t do a damn thing to him, especially since she was just working him up a minute ago. “Listen, Ally, darling, will you hand the phone to your mum? I - ”

“Sophia, that is my hat! Do not wear it!”

And then the line goes dead, and he wonders how long it’ll be before Elsa gets back to her phone and calls him back.

“You let me do that to you while you were on the phone with your niece?” Emma mumbles, pulling the shirt down then pulling her hair into a mess of a knot on the top of her head. He’s not sure if she’s annoyed or amused. “I hate you.”

“Technically, at first it was my sister-in-law,” he corrects, tapping his head.

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Emma gets back in the bed, pulling the comforter all the way up to her chin, and then she shuffles a little further into the bed before sitting up against the headboard and groaning into her hands. “I am mortified.”

“I did stop you when Ally took the phone,” he points out before pulling at the arm of her shirt. “Nice shirt.”

Killian stands from the bed and walks toward his bathroom, grabbing his briefs along the way. “It’s comfortable,” Emma says. “Is this the team you played for?”

Killian stops, the tile cool against his feet, and then keeps moving, leaving the door cracked as he gets half dressed and starts brushing his teeth. As good as it was a few minutes ago, the mood is gone.

Especially now.

How the hell does she know he used to play football? And how long has she known that? Is that why...no, that couldn’t be why, but he knows that’s why a lot of women have.

“A long time ago,” he says, spitting out toothpaste. “I was with Chelsea when I retired.”

“Is that another team?”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, continuing to brush his teeth but sticking his head out of his bathroom door. “You didn’t know that?”

Emma shrugs as she types on her phone. “I don’t know anything about soccer. I only know you played because Ruby internet stalked you a few weeks ago and showed me your Instagram. I literally thought you were just one of those adults who is really into his hobbies.”

Killian nearly lets out a sigh, but he stops himself and turns back around to the sink to spit again before rinsing his brush. He looks up at the mirror. His hair is disheveled, there are lines around his eyes and on his forehead, and his stubble is growing to the point where a beard is beginning to form. He’ll shave later.

So Emma doesn’t know anything about football then. Or him, for that matter. He’s not sure he entirely believes her, that she didn’t look up any more about him, and he doesn’t like that uncertainty. Usually, when he meets someone, they have the upper hand and know the surface layer of all the dirty details of his life.

They usually don’t care to find out the real stories. Not that most of them redeem him in any way.

“Not a hobby,” he says, taming his hair with his hands. “It was a damn good job.” He leaves the bathroom and leans against the doorframe. “You ever play?”

She laughs and puts her phone down. “No.”

“Not even as a kid? Come on. I hear every lass in America plays as a kid.”

“Is that your question of the day?”

Damn. “No.” Killian walks toward the bed and puts his hands on either side of Emma’s head on the headboard, leaning in close. He sees her chest rise, and he smirks. “My question is to ask you to stay in bed with me all day. What do you say, Swan?”

She sits up, and her lips lightly brush against his mouth when she talks. “You should have asked me about the soccer because I was already planning on staying here the entire day.”

“Really now?”

“If we can get crepes delivered from this place that’s, like, ten minutes from here.”

Killian kisses her, long and slow until there’s heat simmering low in his belly. “As you wish.”

-/-

Emma doesn’t come over every night. Nor does he go to her place. But it seems that way as July rolls by, full of hot days that seem to linger forever. Killian finds himself busy during the days. Emma usually has work early in the mornings, so if she’s staying over, she leaves before eight. He doesn’t know how she has time to breathe working at both the Tavern and The Oaks, but she makes it work. When she leaves, he gets up and uses the gym in the basement of the house, going through his tried and true routines before he laces up his trainers and either runs on the beach or on the sidewalks through his little area of the vineyard. He finds the sidewalks are better for his knees, so he tends to stick with that and leaves walking on the beach for his afternoon phone calls with Elsa and the girls or Ariel and Eric.

It’s a routine, one that changes during the day, but for the first time since he got here, he doesn’t hate every damn day. He doesn’t spend his time actively having to try not drink or thinking about Liam or football. He practically buys out a local bookstore and goes through the novels faster than he has in years. He visits different restaurants, museums, goes along with some tourist activities he finds online, and he explores any shop that strikes his fancy.

And while his routine changes, there is one constant: he eats a meal at the Blue Dog Tavern.

At first, he thought Emma would kick him out for it, but now, she often comes and sits with him for a few minutes or sends him a drink from her office. He always sits in Ashley’s section and lets her talk about her growing belly even if he knows little about pregnancy, and he spends at least an hour eating and watching all the people around him.

It’s a hell of a lot better than the twenty-four-hour diners with sticky floors and bad coffee.

Killian shoves his keys in his pocket and pushes open the door to the Blue Dog. Marina greets him, telling him to seat himself anywhere in Ashely’s section, so he goes to his favorite booth and settles down. He can’t see the television from it, so it’s the perfect spot to completely escape from the world with no risk of his past showing up right before his eyes.

He may be feeling better, may be able to have a drink or too at night without wanting to have five more, but he knows he’s possibly only one bad day from it all coming undone, the thread unraveling faster than he can wind it back up.

“Tea or coffee today, Killian?” Ashley asks, notepad in hand.

“Tea, I think, but not the blasted stuff you gave me last time.”

She laughs and writes down his drink order. “Do you know what you want to eat already or should I come back?”

He hands her the menu. “The daily special and a side salad.”

“Perfect. I’ll be back with that as soon as possible.”

“No need to rush,” he says, smiling. “Is - ”

“She’s filling out orders for next week, but I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Ashley winks before walking away, and Killian wonders what the hell everyone in this restaurant thinks of him and Emma. It must be peculiar, but if he’s picked up anything from Emma, it’s that she likely doesn’t share much about her personal life with her employees. She surely won’t tell him that he’s the man she’s sleeping with for the summer, but they might pick up on that on their own.

The food here is good, but it’s not every day good.

He’s finished his salad and half of his sandwich when she comes out from the back. Today, she’s already in the black dress she wears to The Oaks, and her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks exhausted, and unfortunately, the reason has nothing to do with him.

“I only have a second to say hi,” she says, sliding into the booth and grabbing a roll from the basket, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. “We are having an issue with our fish orders, and it’s an absolute nightmare.”

“That sounds like I won’t be ordering any fish this week.”

Emma takes another bite of her bread. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Do you want to come to my place tonight? I’m off at ten.”

“Sure.” He picks at the bread on his sandwich. “Though, the last time I was at your place, that damn crab pillow ended up in the bed, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

Her nose scrunches with her laugh. “I hate that thing too, but Ariel loves it.”

“You live in that house the entire year. Why don’t you redecorate it for your taste?”

Her shoulders tense, and she stops chewing before slowly starting again. He already knows this is going to be his personal question of the day. Sometimes she forgets about it and lets the conversation flow freely, but when he hits a nerve, she’s more on her guard.

He gets it. He can be the same way.

“Personal question,” she says, and he knows her better than he should. “And I’ve redone my bedroom and little bits in the kitchen and living room, but I don’t know. I guess I keep it how the Fishers have it because it’s their home. There are memories there, and I don’t want to take any of those away for when I do eventually get another place. It’s....it’s good to have a family home with memories.”

Killian arches his brow, but Emma looks away, picking at the roll again. He never really had a family home, not after his mum died and his dad became obsessed with using Killian’s football skills for his own fortune, but he likes that sentiment.

A family home with memories. Good ones. That would be the dream.

“What about you?” she asks, changing the subject before he can press further. “Aren’t you excited to get back to your place where all the stuff is yours? You’re living in a place that’s not your own, so I’m sure you’re ready to get back to your family.”

She doesn’t mean anything by it, but her words cut. He’s here because he lost the one person in his family who he was closest to, but he doesn’t want to talk about that, not now. This is supposed to be a good time. It isn’t supposed to be about dark histories.

“I’m enjoying my time here,” he answers honestly. “There’s this woman who is an absolute spitfire, and she’s been occupying most of my time. I’ve been, well, metaphorically tied up in bed too much to think of returning home.”

“Ha, ha,” she monotones with a roll of her eyes. “That’s not what I - ”

“Hi!”

They both turn, and Emma’s friend Mary Margaret is standing there, bouncing back and forth on her toes. “Hi, Marg,” Emma says. “You’re early.”

“I know. I got finished tutoring early, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t know you’d have...other company.”

“Nice to see you again,” Killian says, nodding at Mary Margaret.

“Yeah, nice to see you.” Mary Margaret seems hesitant, like she didn’t meet him weeks ago at dinner, and he wonders just how much she knows about his arrangement with Emma. From what he’s learned, they seem close, but he also knows Ruby is Emma’s more...accepting friend. “How are you?”

“I’m good, love. Just badgering Emma at work. I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“Annoy me a little too much, and I will.” Her ankle hooks with his under the table, and Killian bites his lip to keep from smiling too much. “So, what’s up, Marg? Why’d you want to drop by? Have you heard of this thing called phones?”

Mary Margaret chuckles before sliding into the booth next to Emma. Emma’s ankle unhooks from his, and he tucks his feet under the booth. “So, you know how David wants to have that big barbecue for all of our friends and neighbors?”

“Yeah, you guys do it every year because you’re insane.”

“Anyway,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, “we were wondering if we could get the Blue Dog to cater some of the sides. I know you guys don’t cater, but we could pay extra. Please.”

“You do know there are restaurants who do cater who could handle this?”

“Yes, but we love the food here. Killian gets it, right?”

“Uh, yes,” he mumbles, not sure what he’s supposed to say. From Emma’s death glare, he knows he’s chosen incorrectly. Bloody hell. “I love it.”

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret says. “We’ll pay extra. Promise. In tips so the staff can get it instead of the owners.”

Emma sighs and sinks into the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to know the order at least two weeks ahead of time, and it’s going to take me some time to figure out how much you guys need to pay.”

“Ahhhh, perfect!” Mary Margaret hugs Emma before sliding out of the booth. “You’re the best! I can’t wait to call David! Oh, and Killian, you should come too. It’s on August 14th. We’d love to have you there.”

Killian scratches his ear and nods, flashing her a tight smile. He doesn’t think Emma would welcome him at a party full of her friends, so he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable no matter how nice it might be to be in a large group of people.

“He’ll be there,” Emma says, surprising him, and he feels her toe tap his shin. “If he can make it, of course. You know, he has a very busy social calendar.”

“I wonder why that is, darling.” He winks, making Emma smile, and he taps his toes into hers right back. “I’ve heard you keep pretty busy as well.”

Emma’s mouth gapes before closing, and her green eyes widen, lashes nearly hitting against her brows. “Ass.”

“Well, I know you like - ”

“Okay.” Mary Margaret claps her hands together. “I’ve got to go. Emma, I’ll send you the menu after I talk to David tonight. And Killian, we really would love to have you there.”

“I’ll see,” he says as he fights to keep from smiling too widely. “May I recommend the cheddar bites for the menu. They’ll kill you, but you’ll enjoy it.”

“I have never once seen you get the cheddar bites,” Emma scoffs.

He leans over the table, pressing his chin in his hand and smirking the way he knows she likes. She tells him he’s obnoxious when he does it, but sometimes he can see past that hard shell exterior. “I’m full of surprises, darling.”

“That you are, Jones. That you are.”

-/-

-/-

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[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki- pt.3

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing

Summary: Y/N is denying her feelings. ALL of them.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

When you closed the door, you had to catch your breath. You leaned against it with your eyes closed as a slight smile grew on your face. A little blush dusting over your cheeks, causing rising heat to roam your skin. You opened your eyes and saw Rumor looking at you. He had his head tilted with judgmental eyes.

“What?” You asked. He only gave you a snort with eyes that said “don’t act like you don’t know.”

“I’m not falling for blondie. It’s just fun to flirt.” You said, trying to reassure both Rumor and yourself. Rumor let out wails like he was talking to you saying “mhmmm.”

“What? It’s true! We have a mission Rumor.” You said as you layed down under the covers.

Flashback

As Kurogiri busted through the door to the LOV’s hideout, he shouted.

“SHIGARAKI!” He yelled out of breath.

The villains looked around at the man. Why was he out of breath? Where had he been? Why wasn’t Y/N with him?

“What’s going on?” Dabi asked the steam of purple.

“I-it’s Y/N! Earser-Head took her!” Kurogiri said.

“WHAT?!” In came shigaraki, now yelling in shock. “How dare you lose that girl?! Do you understand how valuable AND dangerous she is? She is with the heroes now, they’ll tell her everything about us, and she’ll grow an opinion. She’ll kill all of us.” He seethed out as he held Kurogiri by his neck collar.

“I understand! But- but look!” Kurogiri said holding up your earring you threw at him. “She left behind this!” Once seeing the piece of jewelry, Skigaraki calmed down. He took the gem in his hands.

“Smart girl...this is a communication device. I gave these to Y/N if trouble were to ever happen so she could contact us without the call being tracked,” he explained. “Y/N! ..Titania!...Y/N? Can you hear me?!” He screamed into the earring.

“.........Loud and clear Shigaraki,” Y/N’s voice was heard from the gem and everyone looked alive. They all settled and began to ask her questions.

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” Dabi asked.

“Eraser-Head took me. He brought me to UA and they’re keeping me in an interrogation room. He said he sees good in me and wants me to enroll here.” You explained.

“UA...” Shigaraki echoed.

“That’s right. And I have a plan. We’ll take em down from the inside.” You offered your idea.

“Explain.” Shigaraki said.

“You have me. I’ll gather intel. All the places where UA will be traveling to, all their plans, all their strengths and weaknesses. I can tell you it all and you guys can come up with a plan on how to attack. My suggestion would be that you should attack them when traveling. Do it subtly. I’ll tell you their future plans and you’ll come up with loopholes. I’ll report their strengths and weaknesses and when you’re ready, we do a full scale attack on the school. Bring as many villains as we can to help and win.” When you were done explaining, the villains shared a look. Except Shigaraki. He was 100% in on this plan.

“I expect a report every day. Tell us whatever happened, whatever you learned or found out. You tell us everything.” Shigaraki said.

“Understood.” You replied.

“Good.”

Present Time

You sighed at the memory. Rumor noticed your displeasure and came up beside you on the bed. He cuddled into you side to help you calm down. You pet his head as you turned to lean into his soft fur.

“...we can’t get distracted. No boys, no luxury, no hero life, no UA life. We’re villains...that’s all we’re good enough to be.” You said to remind yourself. As you shut your eyes and drifted off to dreamland, Rumor looked at you and sighed.

‘She deserves UA though. She deserves a happy life. She’s more than good enough.’ Rumor thought.

Bakugou’s POV

As Bakugou walked off to his room with a satisfied smile on his face, he thought back to what happened. It made him stop in his tracks in shock.

‘What the fuck is happening to me?’ Bakugou thought. Since when does he act all flirty? And when did he start blushing? And why does his heart speed up at the thought of Y/N? ‘Maybe I just need to sleep in off.’

As Bakugou walked into his room, he saw Kaminari and Kirishima mocking him.

“Mwuah, Mwuah, Mwuah, oh Y/N, I love you so much,” Kirishima said pretending to hold a girl in his arms and kissed the air.

“Oh, I love Princess so much! Mwuah!” Kaminari mimicked. Bakugou only growled at the two and blushed in embarrassment.

“What the hell are you two idiots doing here?” Bakugou asked.

“Well we came to hang but then we got hungry while waiting for you and searched for snacks but we saw you and Y/N going in for a kiss~” Kaminari said wiggling his brows.

“And then we saw Mr. Aizawa hit you with adoption papers and then kicked you guys out the kitchen. We also saw you run to Y/N and peck her cheek~” Kirishima added on. “You crushing on the new girl?”

“Am not.” Bakugou replied.

“Are too.” Kaminari said. “Makes sense. She’s crazy hot, super powerful, and full of personality. She’s pretty freaking awesome.”

“Yeah c’mon man, we’re friends and we won’t tell if you do like her.” Kirishima reassured.

“I don’t like her, shitty hair.” Bakugou stated. “I mean, yeah. She’s beautiful, and she’s funny, and she’s really strong. And she’s also really cool and really chill and my heart beats like crazy and my mind goes dumb when I’m around her. But that doesn’t mean I like her!”

The two boys just looked at the blonde with a brow raised.

“Seriously?” They both said.

“GAH!” Bakugou screamed as he flopped face forward on his bed coming to the realization. “Fine! Maybe I do like her BETTER THAN OTHER PEOPLE, but that doesn’t mean I LIKE like her. Besides, shes only been here for 2 days, how the hell am I supposed to fall for someone that quick?”

“Love at first sight is a real thing if you believe it is.” Kaminari said. Bakugou thought about it. Maybe it was. But there was no way. She didn’t know anything about him and yeah she opened up to Bakugou about her past but that doesn’t mean she’s in love with him.

“......look. I don’t know exactly how I feel about Y/N. All I know is, I get excited whenever she’s around or when I know I’ll get to see her. I can’t be sure of my feelings....yet.” Bakugou admitted.

“Well you should figure it out, man. She could be good for you. I mean, shes only been here for a few days but just in those two days she’s made you a more open person. You woulda never admitted all this to us before.” Kirishima said. At that realization that he said too much, Bakugou got up and pushed his friends out his room door before he could spill any more.

“Okay! Great! Gotta sleep! Goodnight! See you later idiots.” Bakugou said and slammed the door. He flopped back on his bed, going back to thinking about Y/N. And there goes his heart again with that fast beating.

——————————————————————————

Y/N woke up, got ready, and was about to walk out the door. Her and Rumor were getting ready for some training so Y/N put on some comfortable work out clothes. As the two were about to walk out the doors with their bags, they ran into the Bakusquad boys in the common room.

“Hey Y/N!” Kaminari greeted you.

“Oh hey guys!” You said walking towards the group. Bakugou had his eyes fixated on you. Do you always look this good in the mornings?

“Where you headed?” Sero asked.

“Rumor and I were gonna get some training in at our special spot in the forest. Didn’t really get to do much yesterday so I’m making up for it today.” You explained.

“Hey, training sounds pretty good,” Kirishima said and the guys all agreed. “Mind if we joined you?”

“Uhh..I don’t know guys. The place I train is kinda far and I usually have to ride on Rumor to get there.” You said.

“Ohh c’mon, please! We’re down for the ride and we’d love to see you in action.” Kaminari begged. Bakugou decided to influence your decision.

“C’mon princess,” he said while looking you right in your eyes. The group all smiled and raised a brow at Bakugou’s behaviour, but you two didn’t notice, for you were too lost in each other’s presence that you didn’t even realize what you said.

“Sure...” you said still dazed with Bakugou, but once you heard yourself you snapped out of it. “Wait- Wha-“ you were interrupted by the cheers of rowdy boys as they all left to get their stuff ready. Bakugou was the last to leave.

“Thanks for letting us join, princess.” He said pecking your cheek and walking off. Curse those damn ruby eyes! You smacked your face the tiniest bit to fight off the rising blush as Rumor just gave you a look of sass.

“Oh hush, now you gotta carry 5 people. Hope you’re happy.” You said sitting next to Rumor on the couch. About 10 minutes went by before all the boys came back and were set to go. You guys walked to the front entrance of the dormitory and paused.

“Okay. A few rules before we get there. The spot is a special place to me. It’s where I can explore myself and my abilities a lot more and it’s the place where I found Rumor. It’s a treasure and a memory to me so don’t you dare destroy it too much!” You said with a stern voice and serious look. The boys nodded their heads in understanding.

“Good. Rumor, flying bison form.” As rumor shifted into a giant creature, you went to the side of the building where you had his saddle waiting. You used your air bending to place it onto Rumor’s back as you attached a rope to his horns for steering. You told the boys to get on, but they seemed a little hesitant.

“What? You’ll be fine, just get on.” As the boys trusted your words, they climbed onto Rumor and settled in the saddle. On your mark, Rumor took off into the skies as the boys screamed in fear in the back.

“We’re gonna die!!!” Kaminari cried as he held onto Sero. The boys freaked out until you reassured them.

“You’re not gonna die you idiots! Jeez, it’s too early for all this.” You said as you continued to handle Rumor’s reigns. After about 10 minutes of flying, you trusted that Rumor knew where to go from there and went to the back of the saddle where the boys were.

“First time flying on a bison?” You jokingly asked.

“More like first time ever doing any of this.” Kirishima said. “Man, do you get to travel like this all the time?”

“Pretty much. Theres so many forms that Rumor has, so it’s always fun seeing the reactions I get whenever they see me riding a dragon or something.” You laughed out, causing Bakugou to blush at the beautiful sound.

“Man, I could get used to this.” Sero said as he let the breeze flow through his hair. You giggled before speaking.

“Yeah, well sorry to disappoint, but rides over. We’re here.” You said looking over the saddle and seeing the forest spot. The boys finally saw the beautiful trees, the crystal waters, the beautiful plants and giant plateaus of boulders and rocks creating something straight outta Lion King. You landed in a clearing and hopped off Rumor, encouraging the boys to do the same. Rumor transformed back into his usual form and walked towards you all.

“So! Y/N, what do you usually do when you get here?” Kirishima asked.

“I usually stand on the spiritual clearing over there,” you said and pointed to an opening where there was a circular stone platform in the ground engraved with some ancient characters.

“Spiritual clearing? It looks like pavement.” Kaminari said, earning a wack to the head from Bakugou and Sero. You just sighed and sat crossed on the area and called upon your mentor.

“Avatar Korra....” you called out, and then, it appeared as if a ghost came out of you and right infront of you stood your mentor. The boys shook in fear.

“A ghost?” Sero shakenly asked.

“No, my mentor. She’s a spirit...a good one.” You said as you stood and bowed to Korra.

“So what are we working on today, Y/N?” Korra asked you.

“Well, I want to perfect my water bending. Specifically, my healing. I used my dim mak on a friend in school and I couldn’t heal his arm from the paralysis so I want to work on fixing that.” You said. Korra nodded and took you to the watering hole.

“You boys can get on with your training,” you said to the guys as they appeared to be standing still.

“Actually, we just came to watch you and see what kinda stuff you can do,” Kaminari confessed. You laughed and shook your head as you used your hand to call the boys over so they could watch.

“Well then how about we get a volunteer?” Korra said as she looked to the 4 future pros. Bakugou stood up and joined you in the watering hole.

“You have no idea what you’ve just done,” you laughed out as Bakugou stood there confused. “Sorry about this,”

“What do you me-“ you cut him off by jabbing his pressure points and having him fall paralyzed into the shallow water. As he layed there with his upper side of his body out of the water he spoke.

“Coulda gave me a warning, ya know.” He said in a grouchy demeanor. You just looked towards your mentor for guidance.

“Let’s begin..” Korra said. As you trained the boys watched in excitement and awe. They’ve never seen anyone with a “quirk” like yours and never saw someone with your fighting style. Once you finished up with Bakugou, Korra walked you through the other elements. The boys saw your many skills and were thoroughly impressed. As the day went on, you finally settled for the amount of time spent.

“Thank you for the help today Korra,” you said and bowed to her in gratitude.

“It’s my job to help you, Y/N. Please don’t thank me. Besides, I enjoy working with you. I know you’ll always choose the best path to go on and I’m excited to see where you’ll end up.” Korra said with much meaning to her last few sentences. You understood what she meant. She disappeared into thin air as she returned to the spirit world. You sighed as you felt relief she was no longer there pressuring you into becoming the hero you can’t be. You turned to the boys.

“So...you guys ready to head back?”

——————————————————————————

On the ride home, the boys all hung around the back while you sat near Rumor’s horns in silence. Your mind wandering to your choices. Light or dark. You’ve always been in the dark though. It was the life you’ve always known. Granted, you didn’t like it, but you’ve already done so many horrible things, there was no way being good was even an option right now

‘Shigaraki..Korra..Kurogiri..Aizawa..Dabi.....Bakugou’ you thought of all the impactful people in your life..but Bakugou? You barely knew him, but you knew in your heart, he definitely meant something to you. To snap you outta your thoughts was the man himself. Bakugou had gone to join you up front.

“Hey” he said.

“..hey back.” You replied.

“Soo..Whats up with you?” He asked.

“Umm...not much. Just..seeing my mentor..makes me think about..a lot.” You explained to him as you looked at the sky.

“A lot like...” he pressed you for details.

“Like....sentimental stuff. What kind of person I wanna be, what I wanna do with my life..choosing paths.” You briefly explained. You couldnt let him know too much, no matter how bad your body yearned to tell him the truth.

“Well...I could predict most of that stuff for you.” Bakugou said, relaxing his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“I see a lot of great things for you, princess. You’re an amazing person already, and when you grow up you’re gonna be an amazing hero too. Kicking evil’s ass and all that.” He explained. But you only felt sorry. He didn’t know you at all. At least, not the real you. This fact only saddened you.

“I wish..” you whispered. You only fell deeper into sadness, and noticing this, Bakugou did the unexpected. He grabbed you and held you in his arms.

“You’re amazing, Y/N. Never forget that.” He said calmly, like he was 100% sure. You released silent tears and let the wind dry them. Along the journey home, the scent of caramel invaded your senses. It soothed you and brought you to a land of happiness. You cuddled into Bakugou a little more as a blush grew on both of your faces. You both agreed on one thing though. This felt so right.

As you landed, the boys in the back headed inside after thanking you for the trip. Rumor changed back and you and Bakugou moved his saddle back to its place beside the building. As you and Bakugou continued to walk, he started up a conversation.

“You know, you’re pretty strong but I could still take you down easily, Princess.” He said with a cocky attitude.

“Oh? Is that fact? Cuz I’d bet You’d get your ass handed to you by moi,” you said.

“Really? How about a little competition?” He wagered.

“I’m listening,” you said.

“We have a little sparring match, if you win you get whatever you want, if I win..i don’t know, maybe..you’ll let me take you out on a date?” He asked hesitantly. This shocked you, but you smirked nonetheless.

“Is this you’re way of trying to ask me out?” You teased.

“Sort of..” he said nervously. This was his first time asking anybody out and his first crush too.

“Well then why don’t we skip the fight and I’ll let you take me out next Saturday? Deal?” You asked.

“That’s perfectly fine by me,” he said excitedly. Bakugou began to ramble on about something else but you got distracted. As you looked over his shoulder, you saw Principle Nezu holding on to some documents and trying to hide them. He seemed alert as he made his way to what appeared to be Mr. aizawa’s room.

“Umm, I’ll talk to you later Baku- Katsuki! I’ve gotta go.” You said as you walked off to find Nezu, leaving Bakugou in confusion as Rumor followed you into the dorms.

Running through the hallways was getting you nowhere. So you asked Rumor to track his scent. Finally catching up to Nezu, you saw him enter Aizawa’s room and you saw the door shut. You pressed your ear to it, trying to make out whatever conversation they were having, but you couldn’t hear anything. You did however hear them walking closer to the door, and so you and Rumor hid around the corner. You saw both Nezu and Aizawa walk out and so you took the opportunity to scope the scene. You walked into the room and saw the files on the desk. As you read through them, you saw it was trip to what seemed to be some sort of battle competition. As you read through the papers, you saw it was exactly that. Hero schools would travel to one designated area and start the race. Along the path you would run into other schools and battle. Winner earns their school 12 grand and the participating students get a week off.

To anyone else, this would seem like a good time, to you, this was an opportunity. You took photos of the papers and ran off with Rumor to your room. In the privacy of your dorm, you sent the photos to the league and contacted them through the earring.

“Hello? Shigaraki? Dabi?” You said into the earring.

“Right here, Titania.” It was Dabi’s voice. “Whatcha need?”

“I’ve got intel you and the league might wanna hear~” you said with a playful voice, however at the same time, you felt uneasy.

“Go on,” he said.

You hesitated before speaking, but went on anyway. “In 3 days, UA will be sending class 1-A and 1-B to this competition where they’ll battle other schools. It’s in a forest area where a race will be held. It’s the perfect place for the league to attack. Come and weaken their forces.”

“Sounds like a plan, little mouse. Good work.” He said into the jewelry.

“I’ll send you my coordinates the day we go. See you soon.” You said and turned off the device. You couldn’t help but feel guilty about this whole thing. Why?

“Hey Y/N? You in there?” Bakugou said from the other side of the door while knocking. Oh yeah, that’s why. Somehow, that loveable blondie made a footprint on you and now you can’t get him off your mind. After what he said about you being so amazing, you couldn’t fight back that fuzzy feeling you got whenever you thought of him or whenever he was around. You got up to answer the door.

“Hey! Katsuki! What are, uh, what are you doing here?” You asked.

“Uhh..I don’t know. Had some free time, thought I’d come hang with you and Rumor.” He said with a shy smile. A smile you’ve learned to love. You looked at the time. 1:44. You figured you could use a break day.

“How about this? Come inside and let me get ready, and we could spend the day together.” You offered. You were under a lot of stress with these conflicted feelings of light and dark and Katsuki felt like a break from it all. He was your little escape haven from the chaos.

“Heh, I thought our date was next Saturday,” he teased as he walked through your door.

“Well, our first official date. This can be more like us hanging out.” You said.

“Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do on a date?” He asked.

“I- oh shut up! You know what I mean!” You said in a flustered manner. Katsuki only laughed at your behavior and called you a little dumbass. You went to your wardrobe and asked for a little help.

“Wanna help me pick out an outfit?” You asked and Bakugou nodded and walked your way. He noticed how your closet pretty much screamed “Instagram baddie” and was impressed. He looked around and finally made his decision.

“The letterman black and white jacket, leave it open to show off the white tube top. Put that on with those light washed skinny jeans and put on these casual black heels.” He said as he dropped them all on you. The way he threw them all messed with your hair and so you huffed the piece covering your face out of your way.

“They’re called Heeled Ankle Boots.” You corrected him.

“Yeah yeah, go get dressed,” he said pushing you towards your bathroom.

“Oh? You sure you don’t want me to get dressed right here?” You teased, causing Bakugou to blush intensely. “I’m kidding.” You said before walking into the room, finally allowing Katsuki to breathe.

When you came out the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Huh..not bad, Katsuki.” You said, admiring yourself. Bakugou was too busy staring at you, but he finally snapped out of it when he heard you say his name with that sweet voice.

“Erm, heh, yeah. My parents are designers so I guess it’s just a natural thing.” He said.

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll have to try on their clothes and maybe model for them,” you joked.

“You’ve definitely got the looks for it,” Bakugou said biting his lip. He was being so serious. You turned and looked at him with a sincere smile.

“Ummm..you ready to go?” You asked a little nervous.

“Yeah, c’mon.” He said dragging you to the front. Rumor follow you.

“Oh, stop it Rumor. You can hang here for a bit by yourself can’t you? Besides, the dorm is filled with plenty of people for you to spend time with.” You said petting his head, but you knew he wanted to go just to make sure you were okay. “If I need you, I’ll blow the whistle and call for you, okay?” You said to reassure him. He finally allowed you to go with Bakugou.

Katsuki took you to a nice cafe just to hang out. You talked, ate, joked around, and all and all just grew closer. Something about him just made you feel safe. The way he would look at you, give you that charming smile, and that time when he held you in his arms made you feel all warm inside.

“Hey dumbass. You’re staring.” Bakugou said.

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Hmph!” You grunted as you used your water bending to take his drink out of his cup and lift it over his head.

“Give it back Y/N,” he said. You messed with him though, and you glided his drink all around him.

“Oh, c’mon! Have a little fun and enjoy the magic show.” You playfully said. You had enough and placed his drink back in his cup. You both laughed and talked a little more before getting up to walk around town.

“Hey, Katsuki look! A festival!” You said as you ran to it leaving Bakugou to chase after you. You both enjoyed the booths and snacked on the street food venues. You played games and won each other prizes. You know, the cliche? As you both walked around some more, you saw something that reminded you of your time on the streets.

“Woah, look at that!” You pointed to a group sitting around a man sitting at a table.

“What is that?” Bakugou asked.

“It’s a quick way to earn money. This guy has 3 shells and a stone. He moves the stone around with the shells and you just have to guess which shell the stone is under. I never played growing up because I had nothing to offer, but now I do and this time I can use my ‘quirk’ to sense where the stone is!” You excitedly said.

“How can your quirk do that?” He questioned you.

“Ummm....” you were looking for an answer until fortunately a man lost the game and screamed out in pity and anger. “Oh look! It’s open! Let’s go!” You said dragging Bakugou to the stand.

“Well, hello there kids! Here to play?” The man asked.

“Yes sir! And I can offer you $20!” You said. A pretty decent deal. The man agreed and put up his own 20 and began to shuffle the shells. Using your earth bending, you felt where the stone was going and when he stopped the shuffling, you pointed to the correct shell.

“Thats some fancy guessing you got there young lady. How about you say we make this more interesting?” He offered.

“More interesting how?” You asked.

“More interesting like you throw in your friend’s fancy chain and I’ll bargain with $100, and thats more interesting.” He explained.

You snatched Bakugou’s chain and spoke. “I’ll do it for $300” you said. The man agreed, foolishly thinking he’d win. As he began to shuffle again, you sensed the stone and at the end of his little show, he attempted to flick the stone into his sleeve and keep it there. To stop this from happening, you used your earth bending to pull the stone from going into his sleeve and kept it under the shell. You made your pick.

“Sorry young Lady but- WHAT?” The man was shock to see the stone placed under one of the shells, more so, the correct shell.

“I won!” You said and grabbed the money and Bakugou’s chain as you both ran off. You laughed as Bakugou only scolded you.

“Y/N! You can’t just scam the guy like that!” He said.

“Oh lighten up Katsuki! Jeez, you always have a stick up your ass?” You joked. “Besides, it’s not like I did anything wrong. I only cheated because he was cheating too. I cheated a cheater,” you said explaining your logic. It kind of made sense to Bakugou so he sighed and went along with it.

“I guess you’re right,” he gave in.

“Of course I am,” you said flashing him the smile he craved to see, “now let’s go! There’s a firework show starting soon and I know the perfect spot!”

You dragged Bakugou to a place a little far from the center of town. When you arrived, you showed him a billboard sign. You guys had already been out for awhile and last time you checked the time in town it was 6:30, now after the walk it was 7:00.

“Ta-da!” You said while giving jazz hands to the tall sign. Bakugou just looked up in confusion.

“What am I looking at?”

“A billboard dummy! It’ll give us a great view of the fireworks! All we have to do is get up there, now c’mon!” You said but Bakugou pulled you back.

“We can’t go up there! It’s illegal,” he said but you only rolled your eyes.

“And do you see how stupid that is? What’s the worst that could happen from us going up there and why would they need to enforce that kinda law anyway?” You said.

“To stop people from vandalizing property.” Bakugou explained to you.

“Well do we look like the type to vandalize?” You said.

“Well no, but-“

“But nothing! We’ll be fine Katsuki! I promise. You’ll enjoy the view.” You pleaded. Bakugou still wasn’t fully convinced so you pressed up against him while hugging his arm. “Pleaseeee Katsuki?” You begged which finally made him give in.

He slightly smiled at you before telling you to hold onto his neck.

“For what?” You asked.

“Just trust me,” and so you did. When you were secure, he blasted you both into the sky and landed on top of the sign. It was dark and a little cold, so you shivered and Bakugou noticed. He held you in his arms to keep you warm and it worked well. A comfortable silence fell upon you two as you just enjoyed each other’s warmth.

“I’m really glad you came to UA.” Bakugou said in a gruff voice. You smiled up at him.

“Oh yeah? Why?” You asked.

“Cuz... I got to meet your dumbass. You’re beautiful, you’re strong...you’re amazing....and I really like you.” He said while looking down at you.

“Heh...I uh, I really like you too.” You said. You both began to lean in and here came that feeling again. No one else in the world but you two. As your lips grazed each other, you both jumped at the sound of the firework’s loud sound. You laughed it off and stared at the pretty colors that illuminated the dark sky. Each one allowing your smile to grow even more. Bakugou, kind of bummed out on having another kiss ruined, admired you and your beauty. He smiled as he saw your pearly whites and he just held you closer as you looked up in awe. This was a good enough night for him.

You ended up using the whistle to call for Rumor to help you guys get back to the dorms quickly. Rumor was just happy to be of service. When you landed, you and Bakugou walked hand in hand through the dorms. As you entered the common room, the Bakusquad set their eyes upon you two.

“Oouuuuu~” they all said noticing the connected hands and bashful faces. Bakugou simply told them to shut up as he dragged you to the floor your dorm rooms were on.

“Thanks for the fun night, Katsuki.” You said to him in your doorway.

“No problem. Kinda wish my kiss didn’t get disrupted for the second time this week but I still had a great night with you, princess.” You laughed at his little complaint. You went up and pecked his cheek, just like he would do to you.

“Goodnight, Cutie” you said and shut your door. Bakugou sighed as he smiled, listening to his heart beat wildly. He walked on to his dorm room to get ready for the night. School was tomorrow and he had a grandpa schedule to follow.

——————————————————————————

Behind the closed door, you sighed in bliss. You felt your heart go crazy at the thought of your little crush. Your crush. Crush. Damnit, that bastard had you wrapped around his finger. Under different circumstances, you wouldn’t have minded, but your with the league of villains. Bakugou is a future pro, you’re a low life villain. There’s no way he would fall for you when he found out the truth. You felt a little hurt at that fact, but you understood. It had to be this way. Awakening you from your thoughts was Dabi’s voice coming from the communication device.

“I’m here, Dabi. What is it?” You questioned.

“Don’t think I didnt see your little scene with whats his face on the billboard. Are you falling for UA’s resident hot head?” Dabi asked.

“What were you doing out in the forest?” You asked in shock. The league was not supposed to find out about this little..whatever you had with Bakugou!

“I was out on a walk, now answer my question. Do you like the little hero wannabe?” Dabi pressed on. You had to think. Did you like Bakugou? You knew you felt something towards him but you were still trying to figure out exactly what it was. If it was love you would openly admit it, but you were just in like with the guy, you weren’t sure of your feelings yet or even if you would dare pursue them.

“....n-no.” You replied. You felt in your heart and mind that you just lied to yourself. It hurt you a little too much by just saying that.

“Good. Because you’re a villain. Bakugou Katsuki has a whole future ahead of him. He wouldn’t want a villain scum like you hanging around.” He said and ended the call.

You let silent tears fall down your face as you placed the earring down and fell onto your bed. You were just villain scum. Underserving of anything good. You weren’t anything good at all. Your path was darkness. You were sure! But Bakugou Katsuki made you second guess yourself on that choice. Could you be good? Could you follow him to the light?

Unsure, you got ready for bed and decided to sleep this off. Once this whole operation was over, Bakugou would be out of your life and you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. But could you really stand to be around without him with you? You’ve only known the guy for a few days, and you’re this attached to him. You sighed to yourself as Rumor fell asleep.

“This is gonna be hell.”

[winterscaptain]

absence.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: the next installment is here! this is the second-to-last piece in the berry hill section of a joyful future. as it has been lately, this one requires little ajf context, but i would recommend reading berry hill and waldosia, if you haven’t already. (thanks to aimz @ssaic-jareau, kira @good-heavens-chris-evans, and sabina @writefasttalkevenfaster) edit: this has been heavily revised as of april 29th, 2021. the changes and additions address continuity errors and ongoing subplots. 

words: 7k (prev. 3.8k) warnings: language, vomit mention, really accurate satellite phone protocol (eat your heart out, cm writers), beard!hotch, jack hotchner content, one last slow burn

summary: “absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great” - roger de bussy-rabutin. au!march-september 2011

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? updated: april 29th, 2021

There’s a moment where he stops at your desk on the way out of the bullpen, but you just stare at him. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it. After a moment, he finally says, “Jack is with Jessica tonight.” 

You have no idea what your face looks like, but it’s enough to drop his shoulders and send him on his way, defeated.

+++

You let yourself into his apartment, slamming the door behind you. He’s been waiting for you, leaning against the windowsill across from the door. 

“How dare you.”

He sighs and presses a hand to his forehead. “You have to understand that I -”

“Bullshit, Aaron. I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. What are you thinking? We need you.” 

His head tips up, and he looks through you. The haunted look in his eyes almost makes you falter - it so acutely reminds you of the days following Haley’s death - but you keep your resolve. He doesn’t say anything, just lets you yell at him until it's out of your system. You could never actually hate him and he knows that, which makes some of it easier, but not all of it. 

The tears start and pick up speed as you continue, nearly at a shout. “You've known for seven months that you were going to leave for Pakistan. I read the brief. Seven. Fucking. Months, Aaron. Since September, you’ve known and you didn’t tell us about the task force assignment in fucking Pakistan!” 

You pause, but the final nail in his proverbial coffin leaves your mouth without permission. “Emily died, and you’re still leaving?” He flinches. “You’re leaving me and Jack. You’re leaving our team. I never thought you could do something like that to us. Maybe them, but not me. Never to me. I mean, after everything we’ve -” You cut yourself off and raise the back of your hand to your mouth, unable to finish the unbearably painful thought.

He’s not sure which part is the most painful - the fact that you list yourself with Jack instead of with the BAU, the fact that you say ‘our team,’ or the tone that drips with hurt. The sob that rips through your chest breaks his heart. He leans heavily against the arm of his couch, knocked down by the weight of your tears. 

No. The hardest part is knowing he deserves it, that you aren’t saying anything that isn't unfair or untrue. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He can only watch you as you walk back out, leaving the door open behind you. 

About twenty minutes later, he receives a text.

9:34pm I’ll be there tomorrow at 12:30 to take you to base. Be ready when I get there. 

He crawls into bed about half an hour later, and receives another text.

10:05pm Goodnight. 

Fuck. 

+++

The ride to base ride is mostly silent, and you know something’s wrong. It’s nothing you can articulate or even really put your finger on, but it’s something bigger than just his imminent absence.

He’s boarding a C-130 supply transport with a few Marines and various agency task force members to an outpost in Pakistan. It will no doubt be a long and deeply uncomfortable flight. His go bag, packed with desert fatigues and a couple of creature comforts, looks smaller than usual at his feet. 

“How long?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Task force operations are need-to-know.” There’s so much he can’t tell you, and it eats at him. Because it’s you, and he’s been an ass, he concedes a little. “Probably a couple of months.”

“We’ll be okay, Aaron.” 

A little laugh leaves him, and it pulls a smile from you. 

“What?”

“Remember when you chased me down last night to tell me the team couldn’t do this without me?” 

You roll your eyes. “It’s still true, but we’ll manage. We always do.” There’s a moment of silence, and you continue. “And you’re going where you’re needed. That helps.” 

It’s true. Your anger had cooled (just a little) overnight, and you decided you didn’t want to be upset with him when he leaves. 

You already miss him. 

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

He looks out the window, and you can hear the wheels turning in his head. Jack is on his mind, and so are you. There’s nothing more nauseating than the thought of leaving you while you’re still hurting from Emily’s loss. “I know.” 

Why are you going through with this, Hotchner?

Oh, right. You’re a coward. 

“I just don’t want our last conversation before you leave to be a fight.” You sniff, but don’t look at him as you continue driving down the highway. 

I am perhaps the most undeserving man on the planet. 

He says, “Thank you. I don’t want that either,” but he hopes you can hear what else he can’t say. 

I love you. I’m sorry. 

+++

“Alright, you’ve got everything you need?” You stand next to him on the tarmac, shading your eyes from the sun. 

Aaron hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. “Think so. You gonna be alright?”

You nod and reach for him. He embraces you, tucking his head into your shoulder. “You be safe, Aaron Hotchner. If you die out there I’ll kill you myself.” 

He chuckles, and you hope the sound is enough to keep your heart from breaking too much over the next couple of months. Your eyes close as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll check in when I can.”

Shoving against his chest, you turn him around and push him toward the plane. “Get outta here.” 

He takes one last look over his shoulder when he reaches the loading ramp and offers you a wave. You return it. 

+++

You manage to get to the highway before the tears start. The only person you want to talk to is Emily. She’d know exactly what to say, and she’d make sure your days off were full of fun and good company. You pull off on the side of the road, your head falling into your hands, sobs wracking through you.

When you’re able to keep driving, your chest hurts beyond belief. 

Without her, these months seem to stretch before you forever. 

+++ april 2011 +++

It’s not the first time you’ve ended up in his office alone, but it’s the first time you’ve really noticed the evidence of his absence. 

The picture frames on his desk started gathering dust, so you brought a little duster to the office. His desktop computer has stopped making noise, so you turned it on and off once out of pity. His phone hardly rings, unless it's the NSA trying to get a hold of one of you for a sat phone call, so you and Morgan take turns taking forwarded calls. 

The silence is overwhelming and seems to pull something intangible from you. It’s exhausting. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” 

You turn, finding Penelope in the doorway. You’re not sure how long she’s been there, watching your acquiescence to the bees that seem to have invaded your brain in the last couple of weeks. 

“I slept last night,” you tell her. It’s not technically a lie. 

She doesn’t look impressed. “Did you sleep through the night, or are you just trying to play one of your Jedi mind tricks on me?” 

With a sigh, you cop to it. “No, I didn’t sleep through the night.” You look out the window to the bullpen, and you know she sees something on your face. 

“I don’t like it either.” She looks over her shoulder, finding Spencer and Ashley playing a game of Go on the desk. Unsurprisingly, Spencer’s winning. Rossi and Derek speak quietly by the little kitchen, looking just about as tired as you feel. 

The short-handedness is getting to you. “There’s just…” You search for something to say. “There’s just so much to do.” 

Penelope looks back. Her mouth twists. “And we’re down a couple’a hands.” 

That’s an understatement. 

+++

“I would understand if you needed some time to think about it.” Erin leans forward in her chair, elbows on her desk. “With your team cut in half, even I wouldn’t feel comfortable sending you to another unit without some time to train a replacement or two.” 

“Or three,” you add.

She looks at you and nods. “Exactly.” 

You pick up the letter from the Special Agent in Charge in Los Angeles. You’d be his right hand - essentially the liaison between operational support divisions and units operating in the field. It’s a hell of an opportunity, a huge promotion, and a significant bump in pay. 

“Can I take you up on the offer to think about it?” You slide the letter across the desk again. 

Her eyes are soft, and you almost feel close to her in that moment. “Of course. Take your time. It’s a position created just for you, so there’s nobody else in line for it.” 

“Thanks.” 

+++ may 2011 +++

“Ready or not, here I come!” You call across the apartment, sneaking through the familiar rooms with practiced ease. 

Aaron’s been away for close to a month, and you’ve settled into a routine. Cases, of course, keep you busy. Derek’s rather good at playing unit chief - decisive and collaborative - but you miss Aaron’s steady, even hand. 

Really, you miss everything about him. You try not to think about him too much. 

You fail, often. 

Avoiding thoughts of Aaron gets even harder as you creep into the master bedroom. The smell of him hasn’t left. Past the doorway, the air is spicy, masculine, and warm. You squint at the bed. One of the pillows moves, just a little, and you pounce, pulling the covers back and grabbing the wiggling pillow. 

Jack screeches and throws himself at you. You catch him and fall back on the bed, laughing. “I found you!”

Jess is off running errands for the afternoon, taking some well-earned time off. You’ll more than likely spend the night over here tonight to give her more of her weekend. It’s never any trouble to stay with Jack. You adore each other. 

Usually, Jack leaps right to his feet for another round, but he stays put after his fit of mirth passes, sprawling across your chest. 

“What are you thinking about over there?”

He sighs, and brings his little hands under his chin, propping his head up so he can look at you. He’s six (and then some), now - still very much a boy - but the pensive look on his face starkly reminds you of his father. “When’s Dad going to be home?”

You push some hair off his forehead. “I’m not sure, my love. I’m hoping it’s only a couple more weeks, but it could be a little longer than that.” 

He sighs, and it breaks your heart a little. You turn on your side, and he curls into you, resting his head on your arm and tucking under your chin. “Are you and my dad best friends? I have a best friend named Connor and he says best friends are really important and I was just wondering.”

You laugh a little. “Yeah, I think so. Your dad and I have known each other for a long time.” His little hands play with the collar of your shirt. There’s more to his question. Jack’s just like his dad and takes a bit of ferreting out. Luckily, you’ve had plenty of practice. “What are you curious about, little bug?”

“Do you miss Dad?”

A track of Aaron’s laugh, his smile, the way his arms feel around you flies through your head. “Yeah, I miss him a lot.” 

“I’m happy you’re here so we can miss him together.” You can almost hear Aaron’s voice in Jack’s. It sounds just like something he would say, and probably has said, talking to his son about Haley.

“Me too, buddy.” You kiss the top of his head. “Me too.” 

Jess returns about an hour later, groceries in-hand, to find you and Jack curled together in Aaron’s bed, snoozing the afternoon away. She snaps a picture with her phone, saving it in an album she keeps for Aaron. After she puts the groceries away, she escapes, leaving a note. 

You’re on your own tonight and tomorrow. Have a good time with breakfast - he’s been picky lately. 

XO, Jess

+++

“You know,” Jess says, a little out of the blue one afternoon. “Haley told me something once.” 

You snort. “I’d imagine she told you a great number of things.” 

“Well, sure. But I mean about you and Aaron.” 

It’s pretty stupid that your body decides to panic over absolutely nothing. If this was a polygraph, you’d fail outright. And yet, nothing’s happened between you and Aaron. You’re just friends. 

Yeah but you love him. 

And he probably loves you, too. 

But we're all to chickenshit for that.

What a-fucking-bout it?

You take a little breath and a sip of your tea. “Oh?” You hope the query sounds casual enough and doesn’t give away the cool sweat blossoming over your palms. 

Luckily, Jess isn’t a profiler. 

“Haley told me - and this was the summer before she died, so it’s not like she told me under duress or anything - that she thought there may have been something between you and Aaron after the divorce.” 

She says that like it’s the simplest thing. You’re not sure what to say, so you keep your eyes on the grain of the coffee table, tracing the lines with your eyes. Eventually, you decide to answer in the simplest, most honest way possible. 

“There’s never been anything between Aaron and me. He’s one of my best friends and I care about him.” That sounds evasive even to your own ears. “I care about him a lot.” 

Jess hums. “I know, but Haley always had a sense about these things. And she knows Aaron better than anyone.” 

Her slip into the present tense makes your chest pull. 

“I don’t say that to put you on the spot or anything.” She shrugs. “I just think you guys would be good together. You’re good for him and I think he’s good for you, too.” 

She’s more right than she knows, but you can’t think about it for too long. You miss him too much. 

Out of a need to respond, you offer a half-hearted, “Maybe.” 

Jess reaches out. “He’ll be home soon. When he gets back, I think you should at least think about it. Or talk about it.” She shakes her head. “Or something.” 

“I have -” You cut yourself off, not really meaning to share. 

She squeezes your knee. “I know you have. So has he.” 

+++ june 2011 +++

Back to back cases - five of them, to be exact, pull you through the next four weeks by the ear. Formal leadership wears on Derek more and more by the day, and you find yourself making just as many decisions as he does. You’re immensely proud of him, but the whole thing is exhausting. Spencer does his best to slip back into his normal role, but Emily’s loss continues to wear on him. You don’t blame him.

Most days feel held together by duct tape, with you and Rossi acting as the adhesive. All that and the offer in Los Angeles you’ve hardly had time to process. 

Thus, your evening with Jess is both well-earned and much needed. 

“Wanna crash here tonight?” She sets a mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of you and sits heavily back on the couch. “It’s pretty late.”

You check your watch and find it is indeed late. Before you can answer, your phone rings, and you answer it with an apologetic glance toward Jess. “Hey, Morgan. What’s up?”

“We have sat call notification from Hotch. Can you come in?” He sounds exhausted. 

“Yeah, I can be there in twenty. Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah, looks like a routine check-in.” 

Jess sighs, knowing the drill. She goes to the kitchen and pours your tea into a travel mug. 

“Are you calling anyone else in?”

“Nope. Just you. See you when you get here.” He hangs up. 

You stare at your phone as Jess sits next to you again. “We have a call from Aaron coming in, and I have to head to the office.” She hands you your travel mug, and you take it gratefully. 

“You’re welcome back here - I can set up Aaron’s room for you. We’re a lot closer to the office than your place, and I don’t want you to drive if you’re too tired.” She sets a hand on your knee, and you reach over to embrace her. 

“Thanks, Jess.”

+++

When you arrive, Derek’s already on the phone. “... So, no leads?... Right.” He looks up and catches your eye. “Here, Hotch.”

You take the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He sounds relieved. “Are you doing okay? How’s Jack?”

His questions make you smile. “We’re good. He’s good. I just left the apartment - Jess and I were having some grown-up movie time.”

You’re warmed by his laugh. “Good. Glad to hear it. I was just telling Derek that the leads out here have gone cold, but we’re still working.”

“Ah. Any chance you’ll be home soon?” You avoid Derek’s searching gaze. 

“It doesn’t look that way, no. We’re picking up on some chatter out there, but nothing firm. We’ll have to keep out for a couple more weeks at least.”

Your heart drops, but you hide it as best you can. “Alright. Anything you need from us back here?”

“Just keep doing good work.” You know he can’t say much more than that, with more than a couple of NSA guys in between you on the line, not to mention the archival recording of the call. Even then, you know he means looking for Doyle. “That’s all I need from you.” 

“We can do that.” You give him a quick rundown of some recent cases, all surface-level. You’re mostly stalling, using up incredibly expensive satellite time just to hear his voice. 

You hear him sigh. “Alright, I gotta get back. Tell Jack and Jess I love them.” 

“Of course.” You hand the phone back to Derek and wait while they finish up. Your eyes wander over the volumes of law books in Aaron’s bookshelf, the pictures of Jack and Haley and Jess behind his desk. Wandering over to his chair, you sit down and rest your head on your arms. 

Your eyes wander to a photo taken a year and a half ago at Haley’s service. You’re not sure who took it, but you’re crouched on the ground talking to Jack, while Aaron stands behind him with a hand on his head. Jack's little hands are in yours, and he’s smiling a little. 

Of all the photos to keep on his desk...

Derek hangs up the sat phone and puts it back in the lockbox. He crosses the office and leans against the desk beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

+++

When you get back to the apartment (indeed much closer than your home), Jess is asleep in the guest room, and Jack’s still out like a light. 

You change into your pajamas, stuffed into your go bag, and curl up under the covers on Aaron's side of the bed. His pillow smells faintly like him, and you burrow into it. 

The bed feels far too big and far too cold without him. 

+++

“JJ!” You stand to greet her. “What are you doing here?” 

She holds up her credentials. “I’ve been reinstated as a profiler on temporary assignment, so don’t get too excited. It’s a contingent favor for the FBI and I’m sure the State Department will call to collect sometime soon.” 

You clear your consults and subpoenas off the desk beside you. “Good to have you back.” Looking over at the intimidating stack of files you ask, “Need anything to do?”

+++ july 2011 +++

The next time a sat call comes in, you can’t go into the office. Jack has the flu and is absolutely miserable. You can’t, in good conscience, leave Jess to her own devices. Between the vomit and the sleeplessness and the tears, four hands are absolutely necessary. 

“Derek, I can’t leave. Jack is literally puking his guts out as we speak, and I don’t have any new intel for Hotch.” 

Morgan huffs into the phone. “Come on. You know you’re the only one he actually wants to talk to and the only one who has any actual updates about Jack.” 

“You just have to tell him that I’m up in the middle of the night with his son, who has the flu. Isn’t that enough of an update?” You don’t really mean to snap at him, but the lack of sleep has made you a little punchy. 

“Fine. If he -”

“Yeah, I know. If he gets upset, just blame me. He can deal with me when he’s not in Pakistan. As long as there are five time zones between us, I’ll take my fucking chances.”

“Fair enough.” 

He hangs up, and you return to the hall bathroom, where Jack’s cheek is pressed against the toilet seat, his forehead clammy and face pale. Jess is taking her turn to sleep - you’ll switch off in an hour. 

“Hey, bubba.”

He mumbles something that sounds like, “Hi.”

“Can I get you some crackers or maybe some Sprite?” 

Jack shakes his head and lifts himself up, holding his arms out. The risk of illness far from your mind, you gather him up and lean against the cabinets, rubbing his back.

“Can you try to close your eyes for me?”

“I don’t feel good.” There are a few tears in his voice, and it breaks your heart a little. You’ve so been there. 

“I know, baby. I know. Just close your eyes for a minute, okay?”

He does, and his breathing evens out eventually. He’s still feverish, but you’re happy he’s sweating, at least. It could break by morning at this rate. 

The makeshift towel-bed on the bathroom floor looks more than inviting. You gingerly shuffle over and lay down, keeping Jack flat against your chest. 

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

+++

“Strauss offered me that transfer to LA again.” 

Derek looks up at you from his report, his brows drawn low over his eyes. “You gonna take it?” 

You heave a sigh. Before you can say anything -

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He puts his pen down, giving you his full attention. “What’s stopping you?” 

So many things. 

There are only a couple of them you can say aloud. Luckily, they have the benefit of being true, albeit incomplete. “I love this work. I love this team. I don't know if I want to be a lackey for an almost-politician.” 

“And?” 

He’s got you. He knows there’s more because he knows you. Even then, you can’t bring yourself to say exactly what it is that’s holding you back. So, you hedge your answer, knowing he’ll understand. 

“I can’t -” leave Aaron and Jack. You clear your throat. “I can’t leave this team. Maybe that makes me a coward or suggests a lack of adventure or something, but I can’t do it.” 

“It doesn’t,” Derek says. “It makes you human.” 

You smile a little. 

“And for the record, I don’t want you to leave. And I don’t think Jack and Hotch do, either.” 

A little incredulous laugh leaves you. Derek simply smiles, but doesn’t say much else. It makes your point for you. 

Nobody else knows you like this team. 

+++

The hardest days are the ones where you end up by yourself. Derek’s picked up kickboxing with Penelope, Spencer has withdrawn almost entirely, JJ has her family, and Rossi retreats to the cabin by the lake with an alarming degree of regularity. 

Thank God he’s not as cranky as Gideon. 

That would be too spooky. 

Everyone is out of the office, scattered to their respective distractions. You sit on the floor of Aaron’s office, leaning against his desk. Your laptop sits open in front of you, but you’re only half paying attention to the movie playing. 

It was only this afternoon you realized his office smelled more like stale paper, your house, and Tiger Balm than Aaron, and it broke your heart a little. Your only solace was his apartment - the evidence of his existence was inescapable there. With Emily gone for good, you often needed the reminder. 

His office phone rings. You pause the movie, stand, and answer it. 

“Agent Hotchner’s office.” 

NSA is on the other side, dry and professional. “We have an incoming call from Agent Hotchner. Is Agent Morgan available?” 

You tell him he’s not, but that you’re the next in line to receive task force updates. In an equally dry and professional tone, you relay your credentials and your unique intel code. 

“Thank you. Please stand by.” Click. 

You roll your eyes. 

God, they’re boring. 

Sitting down at Aaron’s desk, you wait for the armed guard to arrive with the phone. As per protocol, you’ll sign for the call and remove it from the lockbox yourself. You’ll return it for pickup when the call is completed. 

The guard shows up and you step through the motions, finally getting the phone to your ear. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounds surprised, but not displeased. 

You laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s me. Morgan’s unavailable at the moment.” 

“I see. Is Jack feeling any better?”

“Yeah. He’s been alright for about a week now. It was a pretty nasty bug, but he’s a trooper. Any new chatter down your way?” You trace the wood grain of his desk with your finger, only a little absent-minded. 

“There’s a little bit of activity on the border. We’re monitoring the situation. Is everything going okay over there?”

“Yeah, for the most part. We’ve been feeling the heat a little since Seaver transferred to Andy’s unit, but we’re managing alright. Dave’s called JJ back in to lend a hand, and she’s doing really well.” 

He hums. “That was a smart idea.” 

“I’ll tell him you said so.” 

“Oh, please don’t. It’ll go straight to his head.” 

You smile. “Fair point. Any updates on the timetable?”

When are you coming home? Please make it soon. 

“Not at the moment. I think we’re getting closer. Few more weeks.” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite grasp, but you let it go. 

“Alright. Keep us posted.” 

“Will do. You know the drill.” 

“I sure do. I’ll relay the information to the team, tell your son you love him, and talk to you in a couple of weeks.” 

You can almost hear his smile. “Exactly. Talk soon.”

“Be safe, Aaron.” 

“Hey, before you go,” he says. “Can you, um -” 

You smile, tracing the wood grain on his desk. “I’ll tell Haley you said Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks.”

+++

Jess’s hand only shakes a little as she lights the candle and holds the cupcake between the three of you. While she takes care of the cake and begins to sing with Jack, you hold the camera, filming the impromptu party so Aaron can see it when he comes home.

“Okay, Jack you have to help Mom blow out the candle,” Jess says, holding the cupcake in front of him. With a great amount of glee, Jack extinguishes the candle with a big breath and a laugh. 

You turn the camera on Jess, who says, “We couldn't let Haley’s forty-first go unrecognized - she’s officially old and we had to let her know.” 

With a laugh of your own, you turn the camera around and wave before turning it off. 

“Can I eat the cake now?” Jack asks. 

Jess nods, pulling the candle and setting it aside on your picnic blanket. “Of course, but after we eat some fruit, okay? I don’t want the ants to get to the basket before you do.” 

The July sunshine beats down on the three of you, picnicking beside Haley’s resting place. It is, in fact, her forty-first birthday. You can only imagine the look on her face she would have adopt when you reminded her of her age. 

“Oh please,” she’d say. “When you get to be as old as me, you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Jack sits in the sun, munching on a little apple slice. You reach over, rubbing a little splotch of sunscreen into his skin. He already has a little sunburn from your adventure to the District earlier in the week and you’re not about to make your life even harder. 

Aaron’s absence, even in its fourth month, is glaring. Jack has mostly stopped waking in the middle of the night looking for him and having regular meltdowns, but he always looks up when the front door opens with an expectant look that breaks your heart. He’s an adaptable kid, but months without contact from his father have taken their toll. If you’re honest, it surprised you a little bit. 

With a little bit of perspective, months are different than days, or even a week or two. Jack relies on Aaron more than you realized and the difficulty of helping Jess where you can has only further illuminated your ignorance.

“Will Mom always have a birthday?” Jack asks. 

Jess looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

He thinks for a moment, a little pensive. “I mean, because she’s not here. Do people who aren’t here still have birthdays?” 

“They do,” she replies. “That’s why we have to celebrate for them. They aren’t here, but it’s still special.” 

He nods, a kind of understanding look on his face that makes you think he knows exactly what that means. 

+++

“Yeah?”

You smile. It’s been a minute since you heard his voice, over the phone or otherwise. “Hey, Dr. Reid. How’s Vegas?”

“Hot. But it’s nice to be home.”

“How’s your mom?” You trace aimless patterns over the mat on Aaron’s desk, watching the suede imprint and erase as you go.

He sighs. “She’s alright. I think she’s about ready to kick me out, though.”

“It’s only been three weeks,” you laugh. “Surely you can make yourself useful?”

“I sent in her most recent publication to the journal, so I’ve outgrown my use until I find her a new thesis.”

You can almost see it - the two geniuses, mother and son, bickering over a game of chess or fourteenth-century novel. “Better find her a new thesis, then.”

Spencer’s thin smile is audible through the phone. “Guess so. How are things over there?”

“It’s a little hectic. It’s just me, JJ, Morgan, and Rossi now. Penelope’s still working with us regularly, but counter-terrorism keeps pulling her for ‘special projects,’ whatever that means.”

You don’t mean to guilt him into coming back or anything - you know he needs the time to recharge. He’ll come back when he wants to or feels he needs to but at this point, there’s hardly a difference between four and five agents on the team. You need Aaron. And Emily.

“With the amount of summer task forces coalescing, that doesn’t surprise me.” He pauses. “I’ll probably spend a few more weeks here unless there are any developments between now and then.”

By developments, you know it means any confirmed sighting of your target. “That sounds like a plan. We’ll be glad to have you back but take your time. You’ve more than earned it.”

“Thanks.”

+++ august 2011 +++

“How’s Jack?” 

“He’s doing alright,” you tell him. “He misses you.” 

I miss you.

Aaron sighs. There isn’t time for everything he wants to say, even less for the things he could. “I’m probably going to miss his first day.” 

“That’s what I figured.” It's hard to think about and probably going to be harder than you can imagine, especially if there’s a case that takes you away from home. “Jess will take lots of pictures and I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you all about it when you get home.” 

It’s hard to keep the bitterness from your voice, but neither one of you could have anticipated this would go on for this long. ‘Over the summer’ seems a little abstract until the end of the summer arrives. 

This isn’t his fault. It isn’t. You know that. 

But it’s his fault for going in the first place. 

Conceptual anger isn’t useful. That’s another thing of which you���re keenly aware. 

And yet…

“Thank you for being there for them,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind. “I know this isn’t easy.” 

There’s nothing you can really say, but you hum anyway. 

The pair of you are just eating satellite time now, so you say goodbye and good luck before tipping your head back against his office chair. 

When the tears slip down your cheeks, you’re not sure if you miss him more than you’re mad at him or the other way around. 

+++

“Chief Strauss?” You knock lightly on her door and she beckons you in, just finishing up a phone call. She gestures to the little sitting area in the corner of her office, and you make yourself comfortable on one of the couches.

She hangs up and joins you. “Have you thought more about the offer?”

“I have. Thank you for your patience. I know it’s been a little while since we first spoke about it.”

Erin waves her hands, brushing off the implied apology. “The BAU’s work in the last few weeks has been exemplary. I’m impressed, especially considering the significant funding and personnel obstacles you’re facing at the moment.”

You laugh a little.  “I hope that doesn’t make anyone think working with this many people is acceptable, ma’am.”

“No,” she assures you. “I’ve made that very clear.”

There’s a small moment of silence before you speak again.

“I won’t be accepting the position in Los Angeles.”

Strauss sighs but doesn’t look surprised. “That’s as I expected. I will, however, add something that I did not share with you before to further inform your choice.”

You sit up a little straighter, a little more attentive.

“The push for a transfer is also in an effort to protect your reputation. I know the BAU has continued investigating Ian Doyle and while that is noble, it could go very wrong. And that much is above my head. DHS, ATF, NSA - they could all be upset by your unofficial involvement. This could go as high as Congress and could result in your permanent termination from the bureau, making you ineligible for work in federal law enforcement.”

“Yes, ma’am. High risk, high reward.” You shrug. “Or at least, that’s what Dr. Reid tells me.”

A wan smile pulls at her mouth. “Yes. As long as you’re comfortable with the consequences.”

“I am, ma’am.”

“Good.”

+++ september 2011 +++

“Alright, buddy! You ready to go?” 

Jack adjusts the straps on his little backpack while Jess finishes putting his lunch together. “I’m ready. Just need lunch.” 

“It’s right here!” Jess says, bringing his Captain America lunchbox to him and strapping it to the outside of his backpack. “You’ve got a ham and cheese sandwich, a juice box, some carrots, and a brownie. Does that sound okay?” 

He nods. 

“And if it’s not enough, we can always get some more food after school okay? It can be a special treat.” 

Jack grins and you all head off to the car together. 

+++

The little meltdown arrives when you and Jess move to leave him at the door of his classroom. Jack’s brown eyes get wide and rapidly fill with tears as soon as you take a step away from him. 

“Jack, baby, c’mere.” You drop to your knee and open your arms. He steps into them and you can feel his shaky, hiccuping breaths against your shoulder. 

While you hold him, you hear Jess debriefing his new teacher about their current situation, and the way things are in general. Dad in Pakistan, dead mom, goes by Jack rather than Jonathan, the whole nine. 

“You are so brave,” you whisper into his hair. “You are so smart. You are a good friend and you are safe.” 

He nods. 

“I’m so sorry your dad can’t be here, honey, but he’s going to be so excited to hear all about it as soon as he gets home. And I'll tell him how brave you are on our next secret superhero phone call.” 

‘Secret superhero phone call’ was the best way you could describe using the sat phone (and why Jack couldn't talk to Aaron himself) so you just went with it. 

Jack nods again, sniffling a little and pulling back. You reach for him, wiping his tears with your thumbs. 

“I love you so much, bud.” 

“I love you, too.” 

You kiss his forehead, reminding him, “I might have to get on a plane for work, but otherwise I’ll see you after you’re done with your first-ever day of school, okay? This is so exciting!”

He finally smiles, and your work is done. When he steps into the classroom, he doesn’t look back.

+++

Thankfully, you’re not pulled for another case until the end of the week, so you’re able to see Jack through his first-ever week of school. 

It hits you more than once that you’re the person next to Jess right now while he hits these milestones. Long gone is that toddler that would giggle in his mother’s arms as she danced around the living room to Hall and Oates. In his place is an insightful little boy with a rapidly burgeoning sense of humor and a wickedly kind smile. 

You love him.

+++ 

The entire team got an emergency call, so you're all gathered in the roundtable room when Aaron walks in, looking all the worse for wear and -

Is that a beard?

Wait. He’s back. 

You just spoke to him on Monday, with news of a “few more weeks,” even in the face of developments on the Doyle case.

Fucking bastard knew he was coming home, didn’t he?

All of your joy in seeing him evaporates, and you narrow your eyes at him. Just like the last time you were in this room together, there’s an apology in his gaze. 

“Welcome back.” Derek doesn’t sound surprised, and your head whips toward him. He doesn’t look at you. 

Unbelievable. 

“Thanks. Everyone, have a seat.” You follow Aaron’s instructions, and sit, crossing your arms. It’s childish, sure, but the balance of personal and professional life has flown out the window. 

This feels like a personal slight, rather than a professional one. You try to push it away, but it lingers in your sternum like a lit flare. It’s uncomfortable, and you hate it. 

“Why?” Derek sounds a little concerned. Your anger cools a little bit. Derek doesn't actually know anything. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You notice, brow furrowed, that JJ stands beside Hotch like an ally. They both have odd looks on their faces. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.”

No. 

“The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” 

No. 

“Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.” 

No. 

There’s silence, and you can’t tear your eyes from Aaron.  

“She’s alive?”

“We buried her...” 

Penelope and Spencer’s comments rush past you and you feel much like you did in the waiting room on that horrible, horrible night seven months ago. 

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.” 

His eyes finally meet yours, and you find your vision blurred. You blink away your tears. 

It was a necessary lie. 

You go into this business expecting to be lied to. 

Not by Aaron. 

That’s not the issue and you know it. He left. 

He missed Jack’s first day of school. He was gone for five months. 

He left us. 

“Any issues?” Derek’s disbelief is marred by hurt, but you can’t reassure him through your own shock. “Yeah, I got issues.”

He’s cut off by Penelope’s glance toward the doorway. 

The team, save for JJ and Hotch, rushes toward her. You’re stuck to your seat until she approaches you. At her touch, you come back to life, throwing yourself into her arms. Her name sounds strangled leaving your mouth. “Emily.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her grip on you is tight, but your arms, looped around her shoulders, don’t feel like they’re attached to your body. 

She lets you go and continues to speak. Derek’s frozen, and you can’t imagine for a minute what’s going on in his head. Emily wraps around him. He’s stock still, his eyes misty. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he brings his hand to her shoulder, his cheek falling onto the side of her head. 

It’s back to business faster than you can blink, and now you’re sure you’re not the only one ready to kill Aaron where he stands. Derek is livid. 

They stare at each other while Spencer starts asking questions. Eventually, they focus back. Aaron crosses to you, contributing where necessary. 

You don’t acknowledge him. It’s horrible. You hate being so angry with him, but there’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t be upset at him about Emily. There’s too much to understand, and yet the initial shock of it is like a never-ending bucket of cold water poured over your body. 

Selfishly, you realize you’re upset with him because he didn’t tell you he was coming home. It’s so small when there are other, much bigger, issues to address. 

Emily’s lie is professional. Just part of the job. This one feels personal.

You’re a child. Let it go. 

He knew and he left. 

He missed Haley's birthday.

He knew and he left. 

He shouldn't have gone. 

He didn’t tell you he was coming home.

[sunnypogue]

coho!rafe + the video (blurb)

big thanks to scout for helping me map this out!!

warning: NSFW. 18+, some dubious consent issues with the video. (it’s necessary to note that rafe sending this video to himself without consent is NOT okay. like a very big violation of privacy. however, this is fiction, so...just know I don’t condone that shit in real life!) also, please use protection. xx.

--

“Bro, watch your fucking elbows!”

“You watch your elbows, fucker!”

Your head darted back and forth as the teammates shot insults at each other from their respective sides of the beer pong table. You were supposed to play the winner, but at the rate this game was going, you wouldn’t be playing anytime soon.

“Hey,” A hand rested on your shoulder, voice grabbing your attention, “we up soon?”

You shook your head, “Dumb and dumber over here have been arguing about the rules for the past 10 minutes. I don’t think they’ve sunk a cup yet.”

Your pong partner laughed, “Well, just yell when someone loses. I’ll be over -”

“Cameron! Get your ass in here, Matty just said we couldn’t shotgun these claws in one go!”

Rafe’s head turned towards the kitchen, where his defense partner (and resident dumbass), Luke, was holding two jumbo mango White Claws next to his head.

“Oh, fuck you Matty - shit, Y/N, come film this.” Rafe grabbed your arm, dragging you behind him. “I need proof so I don’t have to keep chugging shit at parties to prove my idiot teammates wrong.” 

You watched with a wry smile, your phone camera capturing as Rafe stabbed the cans with his house key, before shotgunning the seltzer, Luke finishing immediately after him, letting out a huge burp.

“Oh, fucking gross, Luke.” You yelled, ending the recording.

“Alright - fuck this! Someone come play Jonesy in pong with his fucking weird ass rules.” A voice boomed from the other room, where the now defunct BP game was happening. “I’ve never had someone talk about elbows so much, you fucking boner.”

You made eye contact with Rafe, grinning as he wiped the remnants of white claw off his lips. 

“Pong?” You mouthed, pocketing your phone, before making your way into the living room, Rafe close behind.

-- 

A few hours later, you were posted up on the couch, one of the stragglers at the hockey kickback, listening to Matty and Jonesy debating the merits of wearing a cage versus a bubble. Bored, and a little drunk, you pulled your phone out, intending to thumb through your instagram stories to drown out the sound of Matty yelling about how a bubble made you look like a “fucking bitch boy,” when your phone was snatched clean out of your hand.

“Hey!” You yelped, swinging an arm out to grab your phone, which now sat comfortably in the palm of Rafe’s hand.

“Hey!” He mimicked. “Gimme your password, I need to airdrop that video to myself.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, turn it around.”

Rafe pointed your front camera at you, letting FaceID flick your phone open. “Thanks.”

You waved a hand dismissively, standing up from the sunken-in couch. “I’m gonna pee, just don’t go anywhere with it. Stay here.” You gave him a pointed look before wobbling your way to the upstairs bathroom (the only one that was bound to have toilet paper at this rate.)

Rafe took your spot on the couch, fumbling through your phone with drunken accuracy (or at least, that’s what he’d say when you found out he posted a selfie to your insta story), trying to locate the video you had taken earlier. He maneuvered his way to your “Videos” tab, eyeing the most recent one. However, the finger holding the phone accidentally touched the top of the app, sending the screen to the very top of your extensive video collection. Rafe groaned, going to thumb his way back down, when he noticed the screencap of a particular video, nestled at the top corner of your phone. 

If anyone asked, he clicked on it to confirm that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, that he wasn’t seeing things - because there was no fucking way this was on your phone.

When the video loaded to full screen, Rafe almost dropped the phone. Apparently, his eyes weren’t deceiving him. You had a video, a full, one minute, twenty three second video, of (whom he was assuming was) yourself, bent over someone’s bed, getting fucked by someone with a massive fucking cock. 

Rafe’s thumb hit play before his brain could stop him. He watched, wide eyed, as this random dude fucking railed you, cock practically splitting you in half. Watched as he held your hands to the base of your back, watched as you took it so fucking good.

And then a voice broke his reverie.

“Cameron, dude - you good?” Jonsey leaned over, apparently finished with his bubble v. cage argument. “You’ve been staring at that phone for like, a while.”

Rafe jumped, turning the phone over on his knee. “Yeah, just airdropping something. Service sucks in here man.”

He waited until Jonesy’s redirected his attention elsewhere, before he turned the phone back over, airdropping himself the video of you getting railed.

You returned to the couch minutes later, a sleepy smile on your face. “You get it?” You asked, extending your hand for the phone. 

Rafe slid it back to you, “Yup - thanks.”

--

A couple nights later, Rafe was on his bed, head propped up by a couple of pillows, the video of you pulled up on his phone. He had watched it so many times, it was practically burned into his memory - the sounds of you taking it, the way you tilted your cunt to get it deeper, the way you would respond when he’d smack your ass, or pull your hair - it was addicting, seeing you like this. Rafe had never thought he’d see you, his sweet, little friend, getting fucked within an inch of your life.

It made him think about all the ways he’d fuck you - better than whoever the fuck took the video than you. Rafe thought about it constantly - fucking you in the shower, hiking your leg up to spread that sweet little cunt, fucking you in the car, pulled over on the side of an abandoned road, bent over the side of the passenger seat, hands holding on to the center console as Rafe fucked into you, door open. Rafe thought about fucking you the same way you were fucked in the video, relentlessly pounding his cock into your cunt, pulling you back onto his cock when you were close to finishing, spanking you when you begged to come - just filthy.

Rafe was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear the knock on his door, or the small creak as his door opened, or the little voice going, “Rafe?”

Rafe didn’t notice anything until you were standing at the foot of his bed, looking at him quizzically. “What are you doing?”

Rafe jumped, phone flying out of his hands. “Nothing - nothing. What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rolled your eyes. “I texted you that I was coming to grab my accounting book. I still haven’t read for class tomorrow.��� You looked around the room, trying to eye the massive red textbook. “Why are you so sweaty? It’s like, 50 degrees out.”

Rafe shrugged. “It’s hot in here.”

You gave him a look. “No, it’s not, but okay weirdo.” You moved to grab his phone, now laying face up at the foot of his bed, screen dim. “Sorry for scaring you. Here’s your - ” You stopped, registering what was paused on his screen.

Rafe grabbed the phone from your grasp, realizing you may have seen a bit too much. “The book is over there.” He pointed at his desk, attempting to deflect.

You just gaped at him. “Is that - fuck, was that - ”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Was that me?” You finally finished your sentence, arms crossing in front of you. “Was that - where did you get that?”

Rafe slowly stood, holding his hands in front of him as if to not startle you. “Look, I’m not proud of this but - ”

“How did you get that?” You whispered, still in shock. “I thought I deleted all of those.”

Rafe looked down at his feet, sheepish. “I accidentally saw it on your phone when I was airdropping shit at Matty’s last weekend. I - I don’t know why I airdropped it to myself, but fuck. I’m fucking glad I did.”

You looked at him. “Rafe, what the fuck! That’s so fucking embarassing for me - delete that!”

Rafe grabbed your wrist that was reaching for the phone. “Why the hell is that embarrassing for you? Y/N, that is literally the hottest fucking shit I’ve ever seen. You - you’re fucking gorgeous, you know?”

You matched Rafe’s heated gaze, staring at him as he kept his grip on your wrist. “I’m literally getting fucked by my ex in that video, Rafe.” You bit your lip, cheeks flushing from remembering the contents of that particular video. “How the hell is that hot for you?”

Rafe pulled you closer. “Because I’ve never seen you like that - you’re always so reserved around me. To see you unedited, raw - just fucking taking it like that. How would that not be hot for anyone?”

You blushed, looking away. “I - I don’t - ”

“I’d like to see you like that, in person, if that’s alright with you.”

You gaped up at him. “What?”

Rafe grinned, teeth nearly glittering in the dim light of the bedroom. “I’d like to fuck you. Better than your ex. Is that alright with you?”

You found yourself nodding - you weren’t sure what world you were currently existing in, but if it was a world where Rafe Cameron (aka the boy you had been harboring a crush on since you met him freshman year) wanted to fuck your brains out after watching a video of your ex-boyfriend fucking your brains out - well, you weren’t complaining.

You let Rafe pull you in for a kiss, let Rafe slide your sweatpants off, let Rafe slip his cold hands under your sweatshirt (causing you to squeal, not expecting the temperature change). Rafe let you tug his shirt off, let you run your hands over his defined shoulders and arms, let you palm his cock through his boxers. It was soft, sweet and exploratory.

Until it wasn’t.

When Rafe tweaked your nipple, you responded by sinking your teeth into his bottom lip - just enough to bruise. He pulled away, a glint in his eye, hands going to slide your sweatshirt off, leaving you completely naked. 

“You wanna play that game?”

You slipped your thumb between your teeth, biting down softly as you walked to the edge of his bed. You went to bend yourself over the mattress, forearms propping your chest up, hair swept over your shoulder. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

Rafe growled, taking two steps over to where you were positioned, before sliding his cock out of his boxers. He grabbed his length, jacking it a couple times as he rubbed the head against your clit, leaving a trail of precome in its wake.

“You want it, baby?”

You nodded, leaning back into his cock. Rafe tutted, pulling away completely, smiling when you let out a soft whine. “Words, honey. You gotta tell me.”

You turned your head, looking Rafe dead in the eye. “For fuck’s sake Cameron, get in me.”

Rafe laughed, tapping his cock on your cunt a couple of times, before slowly sliding in, letting you get used to the stretch. You groaned, walls clenching around his length, hands gripping the bedspread as you let your body adjust. Rafe kept his long, slow slide going, until he was balls deep, pelvis snug up against your ass. He was still, just for a moment, before rolling his hips, letting his cock nudge up against your g-spot. You moaned, head dropping to the comforter. You hadn’t felt this full - well, since your ex.

“You good, babe?” Rafe asked, chuckling a bit at your reaction.

“God, Rafe - fuck me.”

Rafe leaned forward, prying your hands from the comforter, tugging them gently behind your back. He swatted at your ass twice, loving the way you tilted into the sensation, before grabbing your hair, pulling you up just enough to get your chest off the bed. 

“This okay?”

You nodded as best you could with his hand in your hair. “I swear to God, Rafe, if you don’t move right now I’ll - ”

“What? What are you gonna do?” He taunted.

You whined, rolling your hips against his cock, which was still stuffed deep in your cunt. “Rafe, please.”

Rafe chuckled under his breath. “Fuck, I could get used to hearing that - hold on, pretty girl. I’ve got ya.”

[littlemrcaprisun]

TW: brief mentions of miscarriage

(This is a rewrite of an old fic from a previous ship and I just changed the names and POV so if there are errors in that... well sorry.)

Despite all of the odds and challenges that face you, you both decide to go through with having a baby. It takes months to see results, whether it be the it just not working or it working and ending in heartbreak. You’re about to give up on the dream when the fifth pregnancy makes it past the first trimester and halfway through the second. You decide to tell your family and friends, well Alcina does. You only tell your parents and it goes over just as well as expected: poorly. Your parents still aren’t happy with the fact that their child left their husband, the rich doctor with the hefty salary, for another woman twice their age. While they have grown to love and accept Alcina, and your newfound sexuality, a baby announcement was the last thing they wanted to hear out of your mouth. You don't tell Alcina about their reaction for a long time, after all stress is the last thing she needs right now considering how this whole process has gone so far. What you can’t afford is stress risking this precious thing they’ve fought so hard to build. However, Alcina catches on quickly and confronts you about why you’ve been so quiet and reserved lately, especially where the baby is concerned.

“I’m just… I’m… processing.” You shrug after dinner one evening as Alcina helps you get ready for bed. Alcina furrows her brow and stops to turn to you.

“A-are you having regrets?” Alcina asks quietly, her hand flying to your belly immediately. You are barely showing but still enough to be noticeably pregnant and the palm of her hand wraps perfectly around the swell of your bump.

“Oh, no. God, no.” You look up to Alcina , fervently shaking your head. “Never.” You pull Alcina’s chin down to look into your eyes and you make sure Alcina can feel the sincerity burn through her eyes

“Then, please, tell me what’s really wrong.” Alcina carefully lowers both of you onto the bed, just to be precautious. Your belly barely protrudes through your hoodie as you lay back against the pillows, but it’s enough that Alcina can see it and she can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips.

“It’s just my parents… they aren’t very supportive yet… of the baby, I mean.” You admit and sit up on the edge of the bed. You lean back and brace yourself on your hands and try to focus your energy into not crying. Alcina pulls you toward her until you are comfortable and she is lying between her legs, ear pressed to belly. You feel yourself relax almost instantly as she feels the warmth coming from you and the life growing inside you.

“I know your parents’ opinion means the entire world to you, but… I don’t know.” Alcina sighs. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to make you feel better about it. We’ve just fought so hard to get to where we are now and I hate the thought that you might… that you might regret it.”

You lift your head and place a hand on Alcina’s cheek and another on your belly. “I don’t regret anything… I just wish this were easier.”

“So do I. I am terrified I am gonna wake up and this is all going to be over. I couldn’t take it if… if…” Alcina chokes on her words before she can finish her sentence. You try to comfort Alcina and tell her everything is going to be okay but she shakes her head, recomposes herself, and speaks again. “You are six months pregnant. You’re in the ‘safe zone,’ but I can’t let myself believe it’s real. I don’t want to know if it’s a boy or a girl, I don’t want to name it, I don’t want to build a nursery. I don’t want to accept that we’re going to have a baby because I don’t believe that we’re going to have a baby… I’m sorry this isn’t even relevant. It just kind of came out. I’m just so scared of losing this one too.”

———

“Cina... I’m having some regrets.” You whisper, your voice seeming to go on forever in the cool dark room. Alcina shifts next to you in bed and opens an eye.

“What’s wrong?” She asks and when she rolls over she feels the cool damp surface beneath her hip. Immediately, she jumps out of bed and flips on the light. You both cringe at the brightness but quickly adjust and the sight before you comes into focus. You are lying on your back, clutching your belly and your hip, the white sheet around you has turned grey from the water surrounding your bottom. “I-is it time?”

“I think so.” You nod, smiling widely. You’ve had a few contractions since your water broke and you didn’t find them to be that painful, however the ones that follow aren’t such a breeze. As Alcina is helping you out of the bed, so she can change the sheets, you have another contraction. You let out a quiet cry and lean over the side of the bed. “Time it, time it!” You yelp between heavy breaths. Alcina is quick to start counting before she can get your phone out to use the app the midwife recommended to both of you. Within a few minutes, you are back to normal and standing up right.

Alcina sets to work “birth-proofing” the bed by taking off the wet sheets, putting down new ones, placing waterproof shower curtains, then places not so new sheets over top of that. You, meanwhile, make your way out of the bedroom, down the hall, and to the guest room, where your mother, who had finally started to come around, has been camping out for the past four weeks in anticipation for the arrival of her first grandchild.

“Mom…” You whisper hesitantly, anxious about waking your mother up in the middle of the night despite the situation at hand. “Mama, my water broke.”

She doesn’t move and you panic for a moment, unsure of what to do, when you hear her mother’s voice. “Are you in labor?”

“I’m having contractions.” You bite your lip. “They’re about 30 minutes apart.” And with that your mother sits up and switches her bedside lamp on. She climbs out of bed and rushes over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“What can I do for you, sunshine?”

“I’m okay for now, I just want to get back to bed before I have another contraction.” She helps you back down the hall towards the bedroom but before you can make it, you have to stop and brace yourself against the wall. “Fuck.” You curse as this contraction takes hold and all you can think about is counting how long it lasts. Your mother stands behind you and gently massages your upper back in an attempt to calm you. Alcina hurries out of your bedroom to your aide.

“Don’t worry I started the timer for this one.” Alcina leans against the wall next to you and runs her hand through your hair, but you stop her by grabbing her hand and squeezing. “You’re at 17 seconds, darling. You can do this.” Alcina assures you. 25 more seconds pass before you are able to relax again.

“When are we supposed to call the midwife?” Your mother asks.

“They told us when the contractions are about 5 minutes apart, so I think we have awhile.” Alcina explains and you huff.

“This is going to be a long night.” You murmur as you check the time on the wall clock. “It’s 2:10 am and this has already been going on for about 2 hours since my water first broke.”

“It took you a whole hour to wake me up?” Alcina furrows her brow.

“I didn’t want to wake you up. I wanted you to get as much sleep as possible before the chaos.” You shrug and Alcina kisses your forehead. “And I wanted to be sure too.”

Six hours pass and your contractions are still about 25-30 minutes apart but increasing in discomfort. You don't know if they’re actually increasing in pain or if you’re just getting worn down at this point. At 9:02am, they run a hot bath for you to soak in, to try to ease some of the discomfort. It only helps a little bit. You try sitting normally in the tub, then kneeling against the wall of it, then sitting on all fours, before ending up back in a normal sitting position.

Despite the amount of pain and stress you’re in, you remain fairly positive and bubbly, and even joke around with Alcina. Your mother decided to go back to sleep around 3:45, with some convincing from you, so she’d be ready when the baby actually decided to make an appearance. But at around 10:23 she knocks on the bathroom door and is let in by Alcina. She kisses the top of your head and hands Alcina a light breakfast for both of you.

“You gotta keep your strength up.” She smiles at both of you. “How are you doing, my sweet?”

You, resting her head against the side of the tub look up at her mother and smile weakly. “I’d be doing a lot better if this baby would come.” Just as you finish your sentence another contraction, one of the worst yet, comes on and you start to weep.

“I’m going to call Dani.”Alcina murmurs. The daughter of your girlfriend who had become more like a sister to you.

“Please!” You gasp, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and pain, tears rolling freely down your cheeks. Alcina sits behind you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, whispering words of encouragement into your ear. After about a minute and a half the contraction passes and you sigh. “I need to get out of here. I’m getting pruny and I’m tired. I want to rest.”

You get in a rough nap before the contractions interrupt your sleeping too much. When you wake though, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Dani sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Hey, Tiny.” Dani smiles. You smile softly and reach out for Dani’s hand. “How’s it going?”

“Oh you know, I’ve been in labor for…” You pause to check the clock and calculate the time. “13 hours with no pain medicine. I’m surviving.”

Alcina wants to give you and Dani some time together but when you have another contraction, once again, that’s seemingly worse than the last, she can’t help but run to your side. “Talk to me, darling. What’s going on?”

“They’re barely 10 minutes apart. I think this one is 7 minutes after the last one.” You spit out the words and cling to Alcina, digging your nails into her arm.

“I’m going to call the midwife as soon as this one passes.”

It takes the midwife, Janet, over 30 minutes to get to the castle from outside the village . It’s exactly 2:00 pm when Janet walks through the door. By that time, your contractions are less than 5 minutes apart and so intense you have to hold onto both Alcina and Dani. You’re sweating, crying a little bit, not nearly as bubbly as before, completely drained, but focused and still positive.

“Hey, sweetstuff.” Janet hums and she greets you, and you give her a soft smile. “I know you’re miserable so I’m gonna save the ‘how are you doing’ speech and get to it. First things first, can I check to see how dilated you are?”

Janet determines you are about 6 centimeters dilated and you arebeyond thrilled to be over halfway to the end. “So now we wait and we breathe and try to relax and keep drinking water. You are a trooper. I know I couldn’t do what you’re doing, but it is so worth it and so wonderful for you and your baby.” Janet’s warm and assuring tone makes you feel like maybe you didn’t make the wrong choice by going with a natural home birth and some of your regret fades.

You eventually go back to the tub, where you find kneeling against the side of it helps to relieve some of the pressure this time. Your contractions are closer together and they’re shorter, but they are worse than any pain that you’ve ever felt before. Each one makes you feel like you’re going to fall apart at the joints.

At around 4:30, the contractions are enough to make you cry and moan in pain constantly, and it is almost too much to bear for everyone witnessing their sweet little Tiny suffer so much. You’ve moved from kneeling against the tub to your bed. Your knees are planted on the floor, your chest is resting against the side of the mattress, your shoulders are curled in on yourself, and your head is pressed into the bed. You want to push so bad and every passing second the pressure continues to build. You feels like if you don’t push immediately you’re going to explode

“Alright, baby, you’re 8 centimeters dilated. We’re almost there.” Janet isn’t so calming anymore when she doesn’t say what you want to hear.

“How much longer?” You whimper.

Janet sighs. “I wish I could give you an answer. It could be 30 minutes, or it could be three hours. There’s no way to tell.”

You curse Janet for even mentioning three hours because sure enough with your luck it is another five hours before you’re fully dilated. By this point, you don't even know how you’re going to find the strength to push. It’s been almost 24 hours since your labor began and now you’re just getting to the point where you can start pushing. You’re still squatting next to the bed when Janet gives you the first instruction to push. You thought for hours that pushing would provide some kind of relief, but when the pressure worsens as you push you want to stop more than any other moment of the process.

An hour passes with barely any luck or movement from the baby and both you and Alcina start to get worried. Janet assures them that it’s normal and the delivery itself can take two to three hours, especially without any medication. You move to the bed and lay on your side with your leg towards your chest as far as they’ll go. This seems to do the trick and soon Janet is exclaiming that she feels a head.

The final, and 25th, hour of labor passes and soon the house fills with the most beautiful sound you've ever heard: the sound of your baby crying. Janet lays your baby in your arms and that first moment of skin-to-skin contact feels like heaven. You look down and the little face in your arms and start to openly sob, as does everyone else in the room.

“It’s a girl.” Janet smiles. You can’t pry her eyes away from her, from your daughters.

“Cina… we have a baby. We have a daughter.” You whisper. Alcina is a mess, with tears streaming down her face and trembling with soft sobs. After feeding her, Janet wants to give Alcina the skin-to-skin contact as well and kicks Dani and your mother out so the new mothers can have some privacy. Alcina holds him against her chest while you lie in bed next to her, resting and recovering. “What’re we going to name her?”

“Slowpoke because it took her so long to get here.” Alcina teases in a soft voice directed towards the now sleeping baby.

You smile and reach over to touch the baby’s cheek. “Honestly, not to be one of those moms, but what if we just named her what she is?”

“What’s that?” Alcina asks, raising a brow at you.

“A bearer of good news and hope..”

“My dear, I don’t think that’s a name.” Alcina chuckles a little.

“No, but Evangeline is.”

Alcina’s face twists into one of pure joy. “Evangeline Dimitrescu.” She nods. “That’ll do just fine.”