#mutuals got ask once if I was still around and I may suspect it was someone I blocked

[yoohyeon]

Mutuals read this please👇

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, violence, angst

A/N: this chapter might be a little slower than the rest, but I felt like it was important to establish how they are surviving. I tried to keep it spicy and interesting but please stay with me, I believe I have some great stuff coming up :)

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

October 2003

Pittsburgh, PA

It had taken you nearly a full month to make it 400 miles, having to stop frequently and rest for a couple days here and there, but you were halfway to Chicago. Your bodies were not used to the constant exercise, and it required you to rest more than you expected. Joel suspected you were both deficient in some capacity since all you had eaten was canned and processed food for a month and exerting much more energy than normal. You were holed up in a small cabin outside of Pittsburgh, about 10 miles away from reaching the city. Joel had broken into the cabin late last night, and the two of you collapsed into bed once he confirmed the place was empty. He had planned to stay here for a couple days, wanting to make sure you were both as well rested as possible.

The next morning, Joel was looking around the small basement of the cabin, his flashlight bouncing off the dirty concrete walls while you went through the clothes left in the dressers upstairs, determining which ones were suitable to swap out. With winter fast approaching, you both needed to find clothes with longer sleeves and extra layers.

His flashlight scanned over a rusted metal shelving unit in the far corner. He walked over to inspect the items, finding mostly cleaning products, insect repellant, paint, and other chemicals. At the very bottom he found a hunting trap which he picked up to examine, pleasantly surprised to find it was still functional. He took it upstairs and placed it on the small kitchen table, then went to find you in the bedroom, where he heard you opening and shutting the dresser drawers.

The queen bed was covered in clothes, women's clothes on the right and men's on the left. On the floor you had tossed three well-worn hunting jackets, and on the other side of the room was a pile of discarded clothes that looked like they were meant for warmer months.

"Makin’ some progress up here?” he asked, bending down to take a closer look at the jackets and opening the pockets to see what was left behind. He triumphantly pulled out a few batteries and a lighter, shoving them in his jeans pocket. He picked the jacket up and shook the dust off before trying it on.

"Yeah, we got some good options. I think the guy's clothes will fit you, her clothes will be a little baggy on me but that's fine, I can do layers," you said over your shoulder as you scooped up loose socks from the top drawer and tossed them on the bed, getting to work matching and rolling them up. "Did you find anything useful?"

Joel put the jacket back on the floor and picked up a second one, trying that one on before settling on the third, which was a little big on him, but the thick leather kept him well insulated. "Yeah, actually, I found a hunting trap. I'm gonna go out a little ways and see if we can catch somethin', I think we need more protein, we've been needin' to take too many breaks lately."

"You want me to come with you?" you stood up after matching up the last pair of socks.

"Nah, I won't be long, you keep workin' on this stuff here." Joel grabbed his rifle and the trap, closing the front door behind him and setting out into the woods.

The cabin was surrounded by a thick forest but there were a few trails that must have been forged by deer given how tall the grass and narrow the paths were. Joel walked carefully into the trees, staying alert for any threats. Out this far into the wilderness, infected weren't the problem. The pair of you hadn't come across any more people since that night in his apartment a month ago but he made sure you stayed off the roads as much as possible. You weren't as quiet or withdrawn anymore, but he noticed you were becoming hardened by the world you were forced to live in. He had seen the slow progression as you both learned how to take down infected as efficiently as possible. He remembered when you first had to do it: you were so scared he could see the switchblade shaking in your hand as you snuck up behind a dormant runner. As the weeks went on and you practiced more, you became more comfortable taking them down, but he also saw the hardness growing in your eyes. He knew it was just a product of your environment and it was essential in order to survive, but some nights when he was unable to sleep, he laid awake and imagined a world where he could be a shield for you, taking all damage, and you could be your warm and sweet self again, safe under his protection.

Being out in the wild without the comfort of an apartment helped quell his feelings for you a little. He was less distracted when he had to always be on high alert, forcing his thoughts off you and onto survival. But whenever you stayed in a safe spot for a few days, like this cabin, he eventually found his thoughts wandering back to how soft your lips were against his that night, the curve of your hips in your dress, or the way you moaned into his mouth. The forced proximity and the illusion of safety usually meant his body ended up finding yours in the middle of the night and pulled you close to him. You never mentioned it, and neither did he, but he knew it was a byproduct of trying to stamp out his feelings for you. It was almost like his mind was saying one thing, but his body was refusing to obey. So, whenever he woke and found himself tangled in you once again, he didn’t allow himself to savor the moment and quickly removed himself from you before his heart swelled and he would be lost in you all over again.

It was about a ten minute walk from the cabin before Joel found a good spot to place the trap. It was near a big bush that looked to be home to some kind of animal based on the prints in the dirt. He took a pink scarf out of his pocket and ripped a piece off, tying it to the tree branch above the trap. As he followed his footsteps back, every minute or so he tore another piece off and tied it to a branch until he reached the cabin. He pushed the door open and set the rifle down by the door. He heard you singing softly to yourself in the bedroom, completely unaware he had entered the cabin. The first instinct he had was to chastise you for not being more aware of your surroundings, but the part of him that was desperate to protect you ultimately won, and instead he stood in the kitchen to listen.

You left the bedroom with an armful of rags you had made from the summer clothes in the corner, lyrics softly leaving your lips when you saw Joel standing there and yelped out of fright.

“Jesus, Joel, you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed before taking your pile of rags to the couch and setting them down. “How long were you standing there?”

“Just walked in a minute ago,” he replied, giving you a small smirk. “Found a good spot for the trap, I’ll check it before sundown. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He shrugged the hunting jacket off and draped it over a chair.

You nodded and headed over to the cupboard to see what the previous residents left behind.

“Are you hungry? We have some soup here, and some canned stew. What do you want?” You turned to face him with your hand on your hip, but his gaze seemed unfocused and his thoughts far away at your question. Moments like this felt so domestic and it made him ache. What did he want? He wanted everything you had to offer. He wanted to turn back time and take back what he said to you, before he ruined everything. He wanted domestic bliss where you made him dinner and he had you for dessert. He didn’t want to be fighting for your lives while you ate expired Dinty Moore.

His gaze refocused on you and replied, “I’ll take the soup.” He reached into his jeans pocket and found the lighter from earlier and got to work setting up a small fire outside while you rummaged around for pots to heat up the canned delicacies that awaited you.

Joel had just left to check the trap before it got too dark, and you were left scrubbing the pots in the sink until your fingers felt raw. You dreaded any time he left. You hated being away from him, and not because you were scared, it was something more. You figured it out when one morning about a week ago you woke up wrapped in his arms again, for maybe the third time, but that morning was when you realized you only truly slept well when he sought you out in the middle of the night to pull you close and breathe you in. You were always disappointed when he woke up and pulled away from you so fast, leaving you feeling ashamed for being the only one who wanted it to continue. You had to constantly remind yourself it meant nothing, that Joel only had wanted one thing from you by replaying how mad he got for not sleeping with him that night. He never apologized for it, and you know you shouldn’t care anymore, but sometimes when you let your thoughts wander, it bothered you.

You put the pots back in the cupboard and raked your fingers through your hair aggressively, looking out the window to see if you could spot him. You hadn’t had any moments between you like that day in the subway when you saw the heat behind his gaze as you ran your hand up his arm. You convinced yourself afterwards that you had misread the situation, that the look in his eyes was not one of passion, but one of disapproval, and the embarrassment for the way you behaved sat with you for the next week. Eventually, the embarrassment faded when your focus was redirected to surviving in the wild and learning how to take down infected. You were both becoming pretty good at it, so long as you had the upper hand and noticed them first. Only twice did Joel have to use a gun to take one down, so your ammo reserve was still well stocked. But there was something feral that triggered inside you when you watched him kill: the little curl his upper lip made when he made contact, the fire in his eyes when the adrenaline kicked in, the way the muscles in his arms moved from the force of piercing a knife through their skulls. There had to be something wrong with you, nobody should find something like that attractive.

You heard his boots walking up the small porch, but you put your hand on your gun, just in case you were wrong. He opened the door, smiling proudly and holding up a dead rabbit to show you, and set the rifle back down in the corner by the door.

“I’ll go skin it, get it prepped for later. We can finally have a real meal for dinner.” Joel said, still holding the rabbit in his hand. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his smile faltering a bit when he noticed your expression seemed a little distant. You shook your head and smiled.

“Nothing, I’m fine, just distracted today,” you assured him, then turned around to find a small bag of rice you had seen next to the soup earlier. “I’ll make this to eat with dinner.” You plopped it down on the counter and went back to the bedroom to review the clothes you had set aside. Joel’s eyes followed you until you disappeared around the corner. He could tell something was wrong, but he knew better than to push it.

Joel was right about needing more protein and rest. You both felt recharged after just two nights but allowed yourselves the luxury of one more night indoors before heading off towards Pittsburgh. The morning you planned to leave was when Joel had let his guard down and you awoke entwined with him again. It was early, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. You knew the longer you let him do this, the more hurt you would ultimately inflict upon yourself, but as hard as you tried you just could not bring yourself to be the one to end the embrace. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself back to sleep.

Joel stirred when the sun shone into his eyes through the thin curtains, squinting and yawning. As usual, he detached himself from you quickly, frustrated with his subconscious once again. After using the bathroom, he went outside to start a fire. The air was crisp and there was a sharp autumn wind that took his breath away. He huddled in his new jacket and shifted from foot to foot as he waited for the fire to flare up. He looked up into the sky, trying to detect if any rain would be heading your way, but the forest blocked most of his view. He heard the cabin door swing shut and twisted around to watch you walk down the steps wrapped in one of the other hunting jackets and carrying a kettle in one hand and the jar of instant coffee in another. He reached out to take the items from you so you could go back inside and grab two mugs and a spoon. He sat down on one of the thick logs used for stools that were surrounding the firepit and waited for the water to boil. You came back out with the mugs but also had a couple bowls and packets of instant oatmeal.

“’Morning,” you greeted groggily, setting the items down on one of the empty logs and choosing a spot next to him. You yawned, looking around the forest and buried your face in your coat when the wind picked up.

“Sleep ok?” Joel asked you, knowing full well he was setting you up to ask about the way he woke up clutching you, but much to his relief, it seemed as though that topic was never brought up.

You nodded, saying, “Yeah, better than usual.” And left it at that.

Neither of you were morning people and generally didn’t speak much until coffee hit your system. You had been lucky so far and found reserves of it at most of the places you stopped, but you had to dip into the stash from your apartment when you made camp in the forest. You sipped your coffee and ate your oatmeal in silence.

“Next time we find a sporting goods store, we oughta look for a bow and arrow, somethin’ silent,” Joel mused as he scraped his bowl. “We should learn to hunt out here. With winter comin’, it would be a good skill to have.”

You agreed, grabbing both bowls and the kettle while he picked up the mugs and snuffed out the fire. It was probably pointless, but you cleaned your dishes and put them back. It was unlikely the owners of this cabin would find it again, but it just felt wrong to leave things messy. This cabin provided for you both when you needed it and keeping it clean and in its original condition felt like the best way to thank it.

After breakfast, you packed up all your new clothes and replenished any food and rags you could fit in your packs and headed back out on the trail towards Pittsburgh. The forest was thick and lush, and offered a lot of cover, so you were able to make decent time getting to the city, arriving in the early afternoon. You approached a cliffside, stopping there to eat lunch and rest for the first time since you left the cabin. Joel didn’t want to start a fire and attract attention, so you ate some granola bars, peanuts and shared a can of peaches while you surveyed the city in the distance.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked him, taking a sip from your canteen.

“Well,” he began, shoving the wrappers from the granola bars into his backpack, “I figure we should steer clear of the city proper best we can, especially the QZ. They won’t ask questions; they’ll just shoot on sight if they see anyone.”

You looked up at the sun in the sky, trying to determine the time. “We will have to find somewhere in the city that’s quiet, we won’t make it through before sundown.” You told him, looking back from the sky to meet his gaze. He nodded, impressed.

“Yep, you’re exactly right. Good girl.” he said, the compliment making you flush. “If we stick to the outskirts, maybe we can find a small shop or somethin’. But we’re gonna have to take turns takin’ watch, I don’t trust bein’ this close to soldiers.” he warned you, and you nodded in understanding. After you had spent a few minutes resting, Joel stood up, checking his revolver and tucking it back into his pants and zipping his backpack closed. You followed suit, shoving a rag back into your pack that you used to wipe some sweat off your forehead, and you both soldiered on towards the city.

It was approaching dusk as you and Joel finished clearing out a gas station in a quiet part of the city. There were only three runners inside, and you made quick work of taking them down silently. You helped Joel drag the last body into the men's bathroom, closing the door behind you. Joel wasn't thrilled with the building: it was filled with huge broken windows and left you too exposed for his liking, but the sun was waning, and your choices were limited. There was a small office tucked in the corner that you had emptied of the rolling desk chair and a few boxes of receipts so you could spread out your sleeping bag on the floor. Joel insisted on taking first watch, and you propped the door to the office open with one of the boxes so you could hear if there was any trouble before tucking yourself in.

Joel sat on the rolling chair by the front door, hiding in the darkness behind an aisle, every so often standing in a crouch to glance out the large windows for any movement. He was getting tired, but he still had a couple more hours left on his watch before he woke you. In an effort to keep him awake, he wandered over to the small electronics section behind the cash register, perusing the items on the shelves. His gaze settled on a Timex analog watch. He pried open the package and attached it to his wrist, adjusting the time to match the clock on the wall, assuming it was correct before sitting back down in the chair.

You had about 20 minutes left before he planned to wake you up. Joel was just finishing some beef jerky when he saw flashlights bouncing off a building about a block away. He straightened up in his chair, tossing the bag of jerky to the side, and hoisted the rifle onto his shoulder so he could see through his scope. He watched behind the aisle as a group of four men walked down the street in the direction of the gas station. He could see they were armed, noting knives in their boots, pistols holstered at their hips and two of them held military grade assault rifles. As they came into view, Joel scanned their clothes for any type of military insignia but found none. How did they get those assault rifles?

They were getting closer, but Joel still couldn’t tell if they were planning on entering the gas station or if they were just passing through. His hands began to sweat as he gripped his rifle tighter, his body tense and ready to strike. They were about 50 yards away when one of the men laughed at something one of the others said. The rest immediately shushed him, but it was too late. They froze as an unfamiliar noise echoed through the air from a dumpster they had passed half a block ago. Joel frowned, unable to identify the noise, but based on the reactions of the men, they knew. They whipped around, their backs now to the gas station, all four aiming their guns in the direction of the noise. It sounded like a high-pitched screech mixed with a gasp, then a distinct click, click, click. He heard one of the men swear under his breath, his voice sounding shaky as he shifted his weight back and forth nervously. The one next to him tried to get him to be quiet, but his nerves got the best of him, and a shot rang out, making Joel jump in surprise. In his peripheral, he saw you fly out of your sleeping bag, scrambling for your gun. He crouched as low as he could without sacrificing speed, and made his way over to the office, wrapping his hand over your mouth as you twisted around about to shout out to him. He put a finger against his lips, and only when you hastily nodded did he slowly remove his hand, turning back around to hide behind the front counter with you peeking over his shoulder, watching the scene unfold.

Two infected came ambling towards the group. At first, they stumbled and were slow, but when one of them shifted his weight and slid on some loose asphalt, they both let out a horrific scream unlike anything you had heard before and charged towards the group. Neither of you could understand the creatures you were seeing: they had a fungus growing all over their bodies but primarily on their heads, a mouth was the only facial feature you recognized since the fungus had completely grown over the rest of their faces. Blood had stained their throats and chests, their clothes were ripped and barely hung on, and underneath their skin looked wrinkly, but upon closer inspection, it appeared to be more layers of fungus.

The assault rifles were spitting bullets and bouncing off the clickers, as if the fungus acted like some type of armor. One of the clickers jumped on the man who had slipped, viciously ripping into his throat while its fingers dug animalistically into his chest and blood pooled in the street below him. Another man saw his opportunity and pressed his pistol to the back of the clicker’s head, firing and watching its body drop to the pavement. Then without hesitation, he aimed his gun at his friend’s head and fired, his body jerked once and stilled. In the meantime, the second clicker had made short work of the other two men, one already ripped apart on the ground while it continued its assault on the other. The man did the same thing: walked up and shot the clicker in the back of the head, and for good measure shot the other two men on the ground. He was now the last man standing, panting for breath as he bent over to rest his hands on his knees. That was when he noticed the blood seeping through his jeans and trickling down to his sneakers.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, sitting down in the road to lift the pant leg. Joel could see the telltale imprint of teeth and blood when the man aimed his flashlight at his leg. He dropped the pant leg back down and hung his head between his knees. Joel tightened his grip on his rifle, expecting the man to come to the gas station in need of first aid, but before he could blink, the man lifted his pistol up to the side of his head and fired, dropping lifelessly to the side and joining the pile of dead bodies in the road.

Joel twisted around to try to shield your eyes, but it was too late. You let out a shaky breath, one tear sliding down your cheek as you looked up at him, his face full of concern. His eyes traveled down and reached his hand out to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping the tear away. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you had to resist the urge to lean into his touch.

"You alright?" he whispered to you in the dark. You nodded, breaking the contact and standing up.

The whole attack took less than five minutes. Joel approached the broken window and leaned out, listening intently to see if the noise had attracted any more infected or people. You waited as Joel went to each window multiple times to confirm nothing else was around. Satisfied, he turned back to you, your eyes wide and still gripping your gun at your side.

"I don't think anyone else is around," he said, placing the rifle next to the office chair. You nodded, tucking your gun in the back of your jeans.

"What the fuck was that?" you asked, staring at the bodies. "So these things are evolving now?"

"Seems that way," Joel answered, leaning tiredly up against the wall. He fought to keep his eyes open, but you could see he was exhausted.

"Go get some rest, I got this," you told him, "I'll wake you if I hear or see anything at all, I promise."

Joel wanted to resist and tell you he wasn't tired, but a yawn pushed through and gave him away. "You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead. You need your rest, and we have to get out of this city tomorrow." You waved him off towards the office and went to sit in the chair after you grabbed his rifle, using the scope to get a better look at your surroundings.

Joel didn't bother rolling out his own sleeping bag, he just tucked himself into the one you were using, your scent enveloping him as he drifted off.

The sun rose about an hour ago. You waited as long as you could before deciding to wake Joel. He seemed so tired last night, you wanted him to get as much time as he could, but you knew you needed to leave. Once you got back into the forest, you could rest again. You went to the back office, carrying a to-go container of dry cereal in one hand, and found him snoring on his side with his back to the door. You popped a few pieces of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in your mouth and leaned down to gently shake his shoulder.

Joel whipped around at your touch and grabbed your wrist firmly, his eyes wild. You dropped your cereal in surprise.

"Joel! It's me," you yanked your arm, but he still held your wrist in his grasp and it was starting to hurt. "Joel!" you said again as loud as you dared. He finally realized and let you go, stumbling back a bit as you rubbed your wrist.

"Shit, sorry, must have been havin' a bad dream, you alright?" he asked worriedly, opening the sleeping bag and reaching forward to examine your wrist. He brushed his thumb tenderly over the red mark he left, the gesture making you melt and leaving you with a pang in your stomach.

"I'm fine, it's ok," you said, taking your wrist back and turning away from him, trying to create some space. "We should get going, eat something quick and I'll refill our packs with any supplies I can find."

"You sure you're ok?" he eyed you carefully. He hated how you shied away from his touch. You nodded, opening up another cereal from the shelf and continued to eat while you inventoried the food in your packs.

You shouldered your backpacks and guns after you ate, getting ready to head out. After stepping out onto the road, Joel frisked the dead bodies and picked up some more ammo for your handgun, along with two extra flashlights. He checked the assault rifles, too low on ammo for him to consider taking one, but he did remove two of the knives and sheathes strapped around their ankles, handing a set to you. The roads seemed quiet, so you took advantage and got a move on, silently threading your way through the city.

November 2003

Cleveland, OH

The weather was turning cold and rainy, even a couple nights leaving a dusting of snow that melted early the next morning. You trudged along behind Joel in the pouring rain, trying to stay hidden and dry by walking underneath a raised highway. It was risky, being close to the roads, but Joel didn't see much choice. The weather hasn't been cooperating for a couple days now, and your journey had significantly slowed down. He glanced at his watch, seeing it was around 4pm. It was getting darker earlier now, and the storm clouds just made it worse. He sighed, shaking the water droplets from his curls, and looked around. You were near an exit ramp. He saw it led to a suburban area maybe two miles away, clusters of smaller one story homes that the builders made as close as possible to one another in order to sell more houses.

"C'mon, this way," he said over his shoulder, bringing you out of your reverie. You looked in the direction he was leading you and quietly celebrated to yourself. You were tired and soaked, you didn't want to set up camp outside again and the possibility of sleeping on a mattress gave you a second wind.

The two of you hid in some thick decorative bushes looking down a road called York St. All the houses looked very similar and close together, the biggest differences being the color the owners had chosen for the siding. Joel had kept watch for about an hour in this position, waiting until it got dark so he could see if any of the houses had flashlights or lanterns inside. You were squatting next to him, trying to control your shivering but the rain was pouring down hard, and your clothes were dripping wet, even under your jacket. Your teeth chattered as you inadvertently leaned against him for some warmth. Focused intensely on the homes in front of him, Joel's body tensed at the unexpected contact. He glanced down at you and saw your soaking wet hair and your lips a darker shade than normal.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get into this one right over here, follow me.” he said, helping you stand into a crouch as you jogged over to the yellow house on the corner. Joel peered inside the windows for a minute while you stood watch with your arms crossed, keeping an eye out for any light or movement on the street or houses. You heard a snap behind you, and you turned to see Joel had used his large hunting knife to break the doorknob. You sighed with relief as you followed him inside, shutting the door behind you.

You swung your flashlights around the room, Joel rushing to the windows and closing all the curtains as you inspected the house. It was small: a living room, kitchen, one bathroom and two bedrooms. Joel went down into the basement to make sure it was clear while you emptied essentials from your pack in one of the bedrooms. You pulled out a somewhat dry set of clothes and tucked them under your arm, heading towards the bathroom. You took your jacket off to hang up on the shower rod to airdry and got to work peeling the soaking wet clothes from your body. You figured you could just toss the shirts you were wearing and pick up new ones here, but you really liked the jeans you had so you did your best to lay them out to dry in the tub.

After you put some dry clothes on, you started to feel a little better, but you still couldn’t shake the shiver in your bones. Joel mirrored your actions after he came up from the basement, changing into fresh clothes and hanging up the wet ones to dry, making sure to take the keychain out of his pants pocket and transferred it to his new ones, and then met you in the kitchen where you were rifling through the cupboards to see if there was anything worth eating. You pulled out a bag of trail mix, some canned tuna, and a few cans of mixed fruit, setting them on the small table while Joel rooted around for some forks.

You were hungrier than you realized and ate quickly, all the miles you walked today catching up with you.  Joel finally broke the silence after he finished a can of fruit.

“Which room did you want to sleep in?” he asked. This was the first time you stayed indoors where there were two sizeable beds. He wanted to give you the option, give you your space. You kept your gaze trained down at the bag of trail mix in front of you, considering his words. You knew he was giving you a choice, and it was completely up to you now on what the sleeping arrangements would be.

“I liked the room I put our backpacks in, why don’t we stay in that one.” you replied, still not looking up. We. Joel’s pulse sped up and he tried to hide his grin. You made the choice to stay the night with him, you wanted to be with him. It was probably just a habit for you, or maybe you were afraid to be on your own, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be apart from you, either, regardless if his reason differed from yours. 

That night, he heard you softly snoring, laying on your side with your back to him like usual. This time he deliberately turned over and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. He breathed in your scent and nestled his face at the back of your neck as you let out a contented sigh, and small smile played across his lips as he closed his eyes.

Chapter Eleven

Taglist: @chiogarza.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it. 

 They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

[oblxvion]

kiss me thru the phone | megumi fushiguro (1)

-> pairing(s): megumi fushiguro x f!reader, a bit of yuji itadori x f!reader

-> wc: 4k

-> warnings: smut, phone sex, slight corruption, cheating, mutual masturbation, a bit of praise

megumi had always thought you were insanely attractive, what was there not to like? everything about you, how kind you were to everyone, how your smile could always lighten up a room, your body and facial features were just a plus. he’d never really thought about you in that way until you started to hang around him and his friends more. there wasn’t anything wrong with you in his mind, you had no flaws. except for one thing, he wasn’t the one dating you, yuji was. 

of course, there wasn’t anything wrong with that, he was glad that you were happy and if dating yuji put a smile on your face, then so be it. but sometimes, he wishes he had you all to himself. 

on the other hand, you were completely obvious to megumi’s liking to you. and you had reason, you were preoccupied with your feelings for your loving boyfriend. you would’ve never suspected that he felt something for you due to the fact that he was a very closed off person, rarely sharing intimate aspects about himself. regardless, you were still close with him because of how all tended to hang out together sometimes with kugisaki, who was one of your best friends. 

yuji had recently left for a business trip that was in his hometown, he said it was going to take a week, which you were fine with. you could use this time to spend some time with friends and family during the day, but at night, this was a completely different story. since yuji wasn’t home, you were left alone, having to deal with the nightly events. you enjoyed pleasuring yourself but having him pleasure you was just so much different, you had grown addicted to it, and now that he wasn’t home, you missed him even more. 

you had been laying in bed in a bra and panties, scrolling through your phone for what seemed like hours when you got a snapchat notification from yuji, bringing a small smile to your face. you quickly tapped on the app and opened his snapchat, he was in bed, clearly tired and ready to go to sleep. you swipe over to the chat and your fingers tapped on the screen as you sent him a message.

hi baby, how was your day? you sent him before swiping back to your other snapchats, answering them and going to explore the other apps on your phone. you missed him, a lot, in fact, but you didn’t want to seem desperate.

you opened kugisaki’s snapchat, she was watching a new show that she had told you about, to which you responded with a smile. then you opened megumi’s, he seemed to be in bed with his shirt off and LED lights set to a low dark blue. you chuckled to yourself as you had a good feeling about what he was doing, but you decided to play it off as you send him back a photo of you, making sure not to show anything that was meant for yuji.

yuji is typing…

snapchat from yuji

angel! my day was good, i’m a bit tired though, how was yours? his words made your heart flutter, you missed him. it was only going to be a few more days until he came home. 

good, i miss you

i need you right now.

you hoped he would get the message, you couldn’t deny the warmth near your core that was beginning to form. it had been a while since the last time the two of you had sex, the week before he left, you were on your period. as much as he begged you to have period sex, you didn’t necessarily feel comfortable at the time but you told him that it would happen in the future, to which he obliged.

i need you too, fuck, i don’t know how i’m gonna go without you for the next few weeks. you felt yourself freeze, weeks? the trip was originally supposed to only be a few days. did something happen? at work? with his family? all possible reasons to why he would be staying longer flooded through your head. 

i thought it was only supposed to be a week? what happened? your fingers trembled as you typed out onto the screen. how were you supposed to go weeks without him? you were already struggling as much as it is, you missed him too much.

yeah, it was but something came up at home and i need to stay to help. 

i’m sorry, baby.

you wanted to ask him if you could come but if it was something personal to their family matters, you didn’t want to impose and cause any stress. you replied with a simple “i understand,” not wanting to invade his privacy because you knew that it could be something that he didn’t want to talk about just yet, but he would tell you eventually and you were fine with that. it was clear that the both of you didn’t want to continue the conversation, however sensitive it may be. you snapped him a photo of you cuddled up in bed with a small smile, hoping to brighten his mood.

he responded with a picture of him laying shirtless in bed, he angled his phone perfectly for you to get a good view of his chest and abs, while his free hand was very close to the waistband of his sweatpants. you could feel yourself growing hot at the scene, but for some reason, it felt weird to be sending lewd photos of yourself after that conversation. knowing yuji, he probably was jerking off before you texted him, so you disregarded the other thought from before. 

you decided to have a little fun with him as you sat up in your bed, sending him a picture of your body, specifically the matching panties and bra. it was one that he had bought for you for valentines day this year, claiming that he didn’t need anything from you because seeing you in it would be all that he needed. 

he opened the snapchat almost right away, taking a few moments to respond while you responded to kugisaki and megumi. his response consisted of him sending you a video as he slid his sweatpants down to mid thigh, his hand slowly sliding up and down his shaft before picking up the pace. you knew he was close, you could tell. his body had a sheen layer of sweat, only telling you that your suspicion about him jerking off earlier was true.

“fuck…” he groaned through the video, his voice sending vibrations down your spine. you took it upon yourself to help him reach the release that he was so desperately trying to reach. you exited out of his snapchat and double clicked, brining your phone in front of you, trying to take a good picture of your breasts that you know he loved. once you took the photo, you made sure that you looked good before you hit send.

your heart dropped once you realized who the photo went to, it wasn’t yuji.

it was his best friend, megumi.

you frantically swiped through the chat to attempt to delete the ten second photo, but to your despair, he’d already opened it. what were you going to do? you needed to tell him that it was an accident, especially since you double snapchatted him as well. 

fuck, i’m so sorry that wasn’t meant for you

you were shaking, how was he going to react? how could you tell yuji? was he going to tell yuji? all these questions began filling your head as you awaited his response. what the hell were you going to do? just what the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

as an attempt to calm yourself down, you clicked on yuji’s profile, seeing that he was last seen 5 minutes ago, you hoped that he would snapchat you back. you were never one to cheat, it was only an accident. he would understand that, right? you didn’t send megumi that picture on purpose.

that was meant for yuji! sorry again!

megumi couldn’t believe what he was seeing, here you were, on his phone screen, sending him a lewd photo. he thought he was dreaming, the way the lingerie fit so perfectly on your body, he couldn’t help but palm himself through his pants. he had a feeling that the picture wasn’t for him, he knew that it was for yuji, you confirmed his thoughts by sending your apology but what was the issue with looking at it a bit longer? dragging this moment out to the fullest?

the things he wanted to do to you, how fuckable you looked, it was driving him insane. he wanted to have you, to hear your whimpers as he ruined you over and over again. but he knew it was wrong, he had always felt wrong for having these feelings about you while you were with yuji.

megumi fushiguro is typing…

snapchat from megumi fushiguro

you were terrified to open his snapchat, afraid to see his response, slut-shaming you for sending him a picture like that when you had a boyfriend. you had to know what he said in order to explain the whole situation or else you’d hate yourself for it. but his response was something that you did not expect.

nah you’re all good

look at you, fuck

you could feel your face grow warm at his comment, it wasn’t something you weren’t used to. yuji always told you how good you looked for him, but for some reason, this was different. you liked it, and you felt dirty for it. 

the right thing to do would be just to apologize for the confusion and be on with your day, but your mind and body were saying two different things. you knew this was wrong but your body was saying something else. 

he doesn’t have to know.

he won’t know.

before you even had time to respond, megumi sent you a photo. you hesitated to open it at first, what if it was a picture of his dick? he didn’t seem like the one to do that, but men in the past had done this to you before, so you weren’t so sure. but curiosity kills the cat, and once you opened his snapchat, you shifted your position, trying to get any sort of friction on your clothed clit.

he was on his bed in the photo, one arm behind his head as he held the phone at a good angle for you to see some of his body while he wore a mischievous smirk on his face, cocking his head to the side. who knew such a innocent act like this could get you all riled up? and to top it off, the words on the photo said put on a show for me.

it was obvious that his words had an effect on you, even though you couldn’t hear him saying them, your whole body was hot. it felt like this decision was life or death, it wouldn’t be that bad. 

you tapped out of his snapchat, stood up near your bed and angled the camera to make sure you got your whole body in the picture. nobody could deny it, you looked so fucking sexy in this lingerie. this was all so dirty, the fact that it was the lingerie that yuji had bought you and you were sending picture of yourself in it to his best friend. in a way, it almost turned you on even more. you loved yuji, you did, but this was getting you more excited than he ever had. 

you continued to send him more photos of your body, living for every response that he gave you. his responses sent a chills throughout your body, making you want to hear more, see more. it seemed that megumi wasn’t really one to send lewds but you could tell that he was very aroused by your photos with the comments he was giving you, it was addicting.

fuck, you’re so pretty

so fucking sexy

holy fuck y/n

it was wrong to be doing this, and you hated to admit that you were enjoying it every one bit. with just his comments and pictures back to you, you could feel your slick pooling in your panties. his photos back to you consisted of him sending pictures of his abs or pictures of him gently stroking his length through his sweatpants. 

you wanted more, him to say more, for there to be more, you wanted to see it. just from seeing his print in his pants, you could tell that he was nowhere near small, maybe it was time to take it to the next level.

his previous snapchat consisted of a body shot, clearly from the side so you could see how toned he was, along with his free hand down and under his waistband. it was a sight, you had to agree, it left you flustered. you wanted to one up him, make him be the one unable to control himself, make him be the one who’s flustered. 

you took it upon yourself to take a video of your body, hand slightly ghosting down your breasts, making sure that one could hear the small whimpers and noises you were emitting. you had to admit, you were hot, there was no doubt in that statement. once you clicked send on the video, a smirk took form on your face, you couldn’t wait for his reaction.

when megumi opened your video, he was surprised because all you had sent him before were pictures, but now seeing a video, he didn’t know how to react. he felt his whole body freeze when he heard your little moans as you gave him a perfect view of your body. he was impossibly harder than he was before, and it was all because of you. 

“fuck,” he groaned as he set his phone down, bring his hands up to his face. his cheeks felt hot, he would’ve never believed that this was going to happen. you, the girl he’d always wanted to be his own, sending him provocative pictures like this. it felt like a dream come true, he didn’t want to let it go to waste. 

on the other hand, you leaned back on your bed as you set your phone down beside you as you slowly began to bring your hands down to your pulsing heat. although you had been teasing him, you also had been teasing yourself too and you needed to let off some steam. you tried to think of yuji, how he loves and praises you, but all you could think of was him.

megumi.

your boyfriends best friend.

you tried to imagine what it’d be like if it were his fingers on you instead, sliding up and down your body as he took in every crevice, every dip of your skin. the feeling of his mouth on yours, on your body, between your legs, you wanted to feel him everywhere. you felt filthy, disgusting, but you needed him. 

just as you were about to bring your fingers under the waistband of your flimsy panties, your phone began to vibrate on the bed. you were a bit confused to be receiving a call at this time of the night but when you turned your phone up to face you, it was megumi. 

you were nervous to pick up, thinking that it would be awkward. but you had just sent him lewds, so you decided that didn’t matter. you picked up the phone call embarrassingly quick, only to see his face light up when yours came on screen. you didn’t know what to say, it was like all the words had suddenly fell back down your throat.

“hi princess,” he whispered, making your heart flutter. you mentally cursed at yourself, he shouldn’t be making you feel this way. you had a boyfriend. 

megumi took notice in your lack of response, chuckling lowly to himself. he thought it was cute, how you now could barely keep your composure around him. 

“hi,” you mumbled in response, his voice putting you in a haze. you’d hung out with megumi before, but never did you feel this way towards him.

“acting all shy now, huh? you weren’t so shy before, baby.” lust was laced in his voice, you found it undeniably attractive, the pet name sending a warm feeling throughout your body. “c’mon, put on a show for me.” 

you weren’t quite sure with what he meant with his words, but you had an idea. you reached behind you to unclasp your bra and slowly pulled it down for him to see, gently bringing your free hand to fondle with your breasts, forefinger and thumb playing with your nipple, making sure both got the same amount of attention.

this simple action had him throbbing as he held back a moan, he could feel the precum leaking down his shaft. oh how he wanted to ravish you, have you all to himself. you were addicting, he needed you.

megumi slid his hand under the waistband of his pants, stroking himself ever so slightly. he tried to hold back his moans as his eyes stayed glued to the screen as you played with your breasts. it was so overwhelming, he loved every second of it.

“fuck,” you moaned quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear, but to your disappointment, he heard. 

“what is it?” he responded rather quickly, worried that he had done something wrong. the silence in his room and yours was undeniably loud, and he heard that small sound of you playing with your cunt. you tried everything to make sure that he hadn’t heard, but this whole situation was going south and you needed to relieve the feeling that was building up. you knew you would feel disgusting about this later, you’d feel like a horrible person for what you were doing. 

yuji didn’t have to know.

“‘need you right now, fuck, megumi, please,” you whimpered as you gently ghosted your fingers over your folds, silently cursing at yourself for getting so aroused from him, with him on the phone. you gently swirled your finger around your clit causing you to twitch at the sensation, stifling back a moan as you bit your lip.

the sound of you moaning his name and getting off on the other end of the phone was driving him insane, he needed to see you, to see your pretty pussy, all puffy and slick with your essence as you shamelessly fingered yourself for him. the fact that you had a boyfriend and this could be really bad for the both of you, seemed to only turn the two of you on more. 

“wanna see you,” your voice was small, he thought it was cute. “please.” he could tell that as much as you wanted to see his face, you wanted to see something more.

“fuck, y/n, okay, only if you show me after.” he pulled his sweatpants down just enough to free himself, his dick slapping against his lower abdomen. you swore you could feel your hole clench at the sight of his fully erect cock. sure, you had a large amount of sexual experience and seen a fair share of dicks in your life, but there wasn’t a single one that looked as pretty as his. he seemed to be above average size, a bit on the skinnier side but he made up for it in length, compared to yuji, who was around average size but had more girth than megumi. but you knew that megumi would be able to hit spots inside you that yuji hadn’t. of course, he still pleasured you but there was something about megumi that had you itching to have him inside you. although it seemed far fetched, you were just going to have to relish in this moment.

“like what you see, hm?” his words snapping you out of your trance, turning your head away from the camera which earned a low chuckle from him.

“shut up,” you mumbled, before looking back towards the screen. you saw him stroke himself, picking up the pace from the speed at which he was going at earlier. he tried to hold back the noises that were coming from his mouth but you loved them, you loved this.

“are you g’na show me that pretty pussy of yours?” he asked you, your face heating up once again at his request. you nodded your head slowly as you brought your phone down in between your legs. you never had done something like this in the past, but it sent adrenaline throughout your whole body.

megumi’s eyes stayed glued to the screen as you lowered the phone agonizingly slow until the phone was right in front of your clothed heat. the wet spot at your crotch was incredibly noticeable along with your free hand stuffed in your panties, trying to bring yourself close to the edge. you slowly pulled your hand out from under the waistband, fingers coated in your slick as you pulled your underwear to the side to reveal yourself fully to him. 

he felt his breath hitch in his throat, you were so wet. there was no doubt that you were talking to yuji before you talked to him but the fact that he had managed to get you even more turned on before, stroked his ego immensely.

but little did he know, most of this was because of him.

“holy shit,” he groaned as he began to stroke up and down his length, keeping his eyes on the screen. you had the prettiest cunt he’d ever seen, it was even better than he’d imagined, he knew he wasn’t going to last long. megumi had fantasized about this for so long, and now he has it right before his eyes. he continued to watch, giving you encouraging words of praise as you fingered yourself ever so slowly, making sure your clit also got some relief as well.

your saccharine moans echoed through the room as you began to pick up the pace, you were close. you could feel your orgasm as it was just on the edge, you just needed one more push.

“oh fuck,” you bit your lip as you tried to cover your sounds, your fingers barely grazing over your special spot as you fucked yourself with your fingers. “megumi, ’m gonna - ”

“you gonna cum? yeah?” he seethed, megumi could feel his orgasm approaching fast, he needed to see you cum before him. “imagine if it was me, using my fingers on you, my mouth on you. c’mon baby, cum for me.”

as soon as those words came out of his mouth, you came hard, imagining as if it were him who was the one with his fingers inside of you, easing you out of your orgasm. the sight of you coming undone before his eyes through the screen made him lose it as he came, hot spurts of his cum on his chest, groaning at the feeling of his long awaited release. 

you both stayed quiet as you caught your breath, the silence somewhat awkward, but for some reason, calming. once back to normal, you both exchanged a light conversation before ending the call.

you lay in bed, thinking about what you had just done. it was wrong, dirty, and you felt filthy for it. the worst part, you enjoyed it way more than you thought you would. the two of you knew in your hearts that things won’t be the same after this, there’s no way they could. it would have to be a secret, just be between you and megumi.

as you lay there, one thought played on repeat inside your head.

what were you going to tell yuji?

© all content belongs to oblxvion 2021, do not repost or change.

[hexensalbei]

forgive and forget

Find it on ao3

When TK meets the 118 again, he quickly notices that thereʼs something off about Buck and Eddie. He mightʼve seen them only once but he senses that somethingʼs wrong. The tension between them is noticeable, uncomfortable. Odd. It reminds TK of his parents when they were divorcing. And maybe it is a divorce, in a way. TKʼs not usually a nosy guy — he doesnʼt meddle too much in his friendsʼ lives — but itʼs Buck and Eddie weʼre talking about. Since that crazy fires that happened in Texas, he and Buck got pretty close. He considers Buck his friend — and he knows the feelingʼs mutual. Buck has told him about many things — heʼs shared story about his fucked up childhood, his dead brother, his many issues, troubles in relationship with Taylor — but one thing is still like a taboo: his feelings for Eddie. Oh, TK has heard about Eddie and Christopher a lot; Buck mentions them almost in every conversation, the joy and fondness dripping in his voice. But he always closes off when TK hints that his feelings may not be platonic. Or, he used to do it because he didnʼt bring up his best friendʼs name for quite a while. Not since he told TK about Eddieʼs departure from the 118. He ranted about it for over an hour, repeatedly apologising TK for the self-pity and then, he never said Eddieʼs name out loud again. Truthfully, it has concerned TK to the point when he told Carlos about everything and wanted to get in touch with Hen to make sure Buckʼs okay.

And now, he finds out Eddieʼs back and everything should be okay — but itʼs not. Buckʼs really cheery, he smiles a lot but TK suspects itʼs just a facade. He knows a thing or two about putting on a happy mask and pretending everythingʼs perfectly fine. Maybe thatʼs why he doesnʼt buy Buckʼs act and pays more attention to whatever is going on between him and Eddie. He notices the distance, their lack of touch — last time they were in Texas, they were glued together if no one forced them to split up. Now, the only thing thatʼs left is the insane amount of glances they give each other if the other one is not looking. They are clearly still pining for each other even though it seems like their friendship is hanging by a thread. Itʼs insane and exhausting, TK thinks. He feels the urge to just shake them both and force them to talk.

He casually approaches Hen when neither Buck nor Eddie are around. He feels like she would be totally interested in his plan and might share some priceless details with him.

“You still alive after my dadʼs lecture about skincare routine and interior design?” He asks, smiling playfully.

“Well, that man is a man of passion.” Hen chuckles and looks at captain Strand whoʼs now talking with Bobby and Athena. “And donʼt worry, Iʼm used to talk about many random things — I work with Buck — and my wifeʼs a rocket scientist. It was lovely to talk again with your dad.”

“And nobody and I mean nobody can weasel out from a lecture about skincare. He even tried to teach Gabriel — Carlosʼ dad — how to moisturise skin but it was a failure.” TK laughs quietly at the memory of his dad and future father-in-law quarreling like an old married couple if itʼs really necessary for Mr. Reyes to change his habits. “But... Speaking of Buck: whatʼs going on between him and Eddie?”

Hen doesnʼt look surprised by this question, not even in the slightest. She just sighs and turns her head to see if the mentioned couple is somewhere nearby.

“You picked it up too?” She asks and continues, not waiting for the answer. “Itʼs more like nothing is going on between them. Weʼve all been upset about Eddie leaving but not as much as Buck. Heʼs... He was in a really bad state, Bobby even made sure he was seeing his therapist. Last year wasnʼt the easiest for him and when Eddie left, he kinda lost his best friend.”

“He told me about it.” TK cuts in. “Well, he just said Eddie left the 118 and he never mentioned him again which was very weird. He didnʼt even mention that Eddie came back and weʼre talking like a lot.”

“He hasnʼt talked about it with any of us — and weʼve all tried to do it but Buckʼs too stubborn. I just know that theyʼve barely seen each other and talked to each other while Eddie was on a break. And, honestly, I donʼt blame him. This man has been through a lot and everyone understands why he made that decision, including Buck. But... It doesnʼt change the fact that it hurt like a bitch, especially Buckaroo and his abandonment issues. And when Eddie came back... They didnʼt talk about it because both of them are pig-headed as hell and they canʼt talk about their feelings like mature people. If they did, theyʼd be already married.” Hen sighs again and looks at TK. “Itʼs really annoying. The atmosphere in the station is... Tense. I mean, we all joke and talk like usual but it doesnʼt feel the same. Eddieʼs now paired up with me, Buckʼs usually working with Ravi... And I love Eddie, I do, but I miss working with Chim. I can communicate with him without words, we know each other so well, we donʼt have to say anything. Buck and Eddie were our superior duo and they were even better than us and itʼs bothering almost everyone.”

“Yeah, I get that. Itʼs not easy to get used to having a new partner and learn how we work together.” TK agrees. “Do you think Iʼd make a great mistake if I tried to talk with them? Separately, of course. Or force them to talk about their feelings?”

Hen smiles — and itʼs kind of a sad smile — and answers, “you should definitely try it. Maybe theyʼd be more willing to listen to what you have to say. Believe me, weʼre all just tired of that situation and we come up with more and more ridiculous ideas. I say, try to talk with them and if it doesnʼt work, maybe we should really just lock them in a closet and not let them out until they talk.”

“This is weirdly a very tempting idea.” TK admits, a sly grin appearing on his face. “Thanks, Hen.”

“Donʼt forget to come back to me to scheme if the peaceful option doesnʼt work.”

━━━━━━━

“Hey, man.” TK comes up closer and sits on an empty chair next to Buck. Theyʼre at Rydersʼ house, chilling after a wonderful afternoon. The sun is setting over the horizon and bathes Austin in a golden glow. Owen, Tommy, Hen and Bobby with Athena are in the living room, discussing something very vividly; Judd and Grace went with Maddie and Chim to their daughterʼs room and Eddie is somewhere in the kitchen with Carlos, Paul, Nancy, Marjan and Mateo. Buck was sitting all alone on the outside, with the bottle of beer in his hands and he looked completely lost in thoughts. “I think my dad has finally found the right person to have discussions with.” He adds, watching interactions between his dad and Athena.

“He doesn’t have a chance to win with Athena, trust me. She’s a force to be reckoned with.” Buck answers, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. It looks like he’s okay, that he’s content and relaxed — but TK notices that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks cautiously, looking at his friend. “And please, don’t say you’re fine because I know it’s bullshit.”

Buck doesn’t answer. He’s sipping his beer slowly, eyes focused on the bottle. TK’s patient; he doesn’t rush him to reply, he doesn’t repeat the question. He knows Buck’s not ignoring him — he just needs some time to gather himself.

“I’m not.” He finally says. His voice is a little bit shaky, quiet. “I haven’t been okay for a while now. I… Don’t like to feel sorry for myself and whine because there are people who have real problems and —”

“Buckley, I swear to God, I’ll kick your ass.” TK interrupts him, slightly raising his voice. “Your problems are real problems and I want to hear about them, okay? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry, it’s just… A lot. Maddie’s post-postpartum, her escape, Chim being angry with me, Eddie being shot and then his leaving…” Buck stops abruptly, realising he mentioned his best friend again.

“But he’s back, isn’t he?” TK asks calmly. “He’s back and from what I could see, he misses you.”

Buck lets out a heavy sigh and finally looks at his friend.

“I miss him too,” he says hesitantly. And then, as if something crumbles inside him, he starts talking. “I miss him even though he’s back and everything should be fine. But… I don’t know, I feel so angry with him. I can’t even fully explain it, I just am and I want to yell at him. I want to yell at him because since the shooting, since he told me about his will, something has changed and we’ve grown apart. We haven’t even talked about the shooting, not once. And I know he’s not okay, he’s still pretending that it didn’t affect him and I’m here, I still see him on the ground, I still feel like I have his blood on my hands, on my face and —”

His voice is breaking; he needs a moment to calm himself and TK comes closer and embraces him in a hug.

“I — It’s very hard for me to forget about it. It’s even harder to forget that he literally made me Christopher’s legal guardian in case he dies. He told me about it when he was still in the hospital and we’ve never mentioned it again.”

TK raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by this revelation. He’s shocked but it only makes him sure he’s right about Eddie’s feelings.

“And we barely talked about his panic attacks, about his break up with Ana and we were held hostage and the prisoner pointed a gun at him and I totally freaked out. We’ve never talked about it too and I don’t believe it hasn’t left any impact on him. And then, he left the 118. I’m so mad at him because he swore nothing would come between us, that we won’t grow apart but we did. I understand why he made that decision and I know it was the right decision because Christopher always comes first but he literally shut me off. It’s like we’ve never been friends and I feel like maybe I did something wrong, that maybe I overstepped and he grew tired of me, I don’t know. I broke up with Taylor shortly after and I haven’t even told him — or anyone, to be honest. And now he’s back and I should be happy but I don’t know what I feel anymore.”

“I think it’s a very natural reaction,” says TK after a moment of silence, “you two were extremely close and some bad, crazy things have happened and neither of you have processed them, you haven’t talked about it. It would affect any relationship I think.”

“I’ve tried to talk about it, TK, I’ve tried but Eddie has always responded very vaguely and changed the topic.”

“Sounds exactly like you when I was asking you if your feelings are not platonic.” TK allows himself to tease Buck a little bit and it does the trick because Buck huffs but the corners of his mouth lift up.

“You’re a menace, Strand. I open up and talk about my feelings and all you do is mock me. Not cool, dude, not cool.” He jokes and he spontaneously hugs his friend.

“I just state facts, man. I know it’s hard to open up again, be vulnerable and let yourself love someone. Sometimes it’s hard to admit it — I know that, I’ve been there. It took me a while to admit that I love Carlos. I was scared, I’ve tried to fight it but look at us now. We’re together, we’re happy and I really think he’s the one.”

“Well, at least you knew he wasn’t straight, though.”

“And you think Eddie is? Lord have mercy,” TK rolls his eyes, “this man legally tied you to his family, he wants you to raise his son and he literally broke up with his girlfriend after you told him to do so. You really think Eddie doesn’t feel the same? Oh, and he looked like a kicked puppy today when he was staring at you.”

Buck looks baffled, like he doesn’t believe Eddie could be looking at him and it kinda amuses TK.

“He was staring at you, like all the time. When you weren’t watching.” He clarifies. “I really think you two should just talk and clear up some things. It would definitely help, though.”

“That depends on Eddie, he’s the stubborn one.” Buck huffs again; he’s still not entirely convinced that his best friend might be in love with him but TK’s words make a lot of sense.

“Said the pot to the kettle,” mutters TK, “anyway, you will do what you want but I’m always here for you and you can really talk with me about anything. I’m no Eddie but I’m a good listener and I’m also pretty good at cheering people up so call me, text me whenever you want.”

“No, you’re not Eddie but you’re awesome too, man.” Buck says honestly. The anger, insecurity, anxiety is still there, somewhere but he actually feels lighter after talking with TK. He feels happy — not entirely, of course — but he might even enjoy the rest of the evening.

“You should mention this to Judd, he still refuses to acknowledge my awesomeness.” TK grimaces and Buck bursts out laughing.

“I definitely will.”

━━━━━━━

Buck’s change of mood doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s quickly sucked into the conversation between two captains (Owen doesn’t miss a chance to ask about Buck’s haircare and it seems like he’s satisfied with the answer). TK wanders around the house and he smiles sweetly when he notices his boyfriend.

“Hey, babe,” he murmurs, planting a small kiss on his lips, “you good?”

“Yeah,” says Carlos softly and puts his hand on TK’s waist. “How did your conversation with Buck go?”

“Wasn’t as bad as I thought, I learned some interesting things about their friendship. They’re even more into each other than I’ve thought.” TK admits.

“Eddie saw you two snuggling earlier and he seemed pretty upset. To be fair, he looked miserable for the whole time we’ve been talking.”

“Oh, that’s good. I mean, it’s bad but also good. Maybe it will push Eddie to do something.” TK states. “Where is he anyway? Maybe I will talk with him too.”

Carlos chuckles and looks at his boyfriend with pure admiration. “He went to talk with his son,” he answers and adds. “Have I told you that I really admire your dedication?”

“It’s just that… I really want them to be together, I think they’re meant to be together and all they need to do is talk about their feelings.” TK explains, knowing that Carlos will understand him.

“And you tell me you’re not a hopeless romantic,” Carlos laughs and kisses him.

“Hey, you two lovebirds, go find a room.” They hear Marjanʼs very amused voice from the kitchen.

“Oh, fuck off, Marwani!” TK shouts at her and shows her middle finger. Marjanʼs only response is laughter.

“Judd would totally kill them if they did anything in one of his rooms.” Paul notices, winking at the couple. “Donʼt encourage them — especially TK — to do something naughty, Marj.”

“Me? Encouraging them to do anything? Never!”

“I think Iʼve heard something similar from Chimʼs mouth right after he was scolded by Bobby when he found out about the bet Chim had with me and Buck.” Eddieʼs words make both Carlos and TK turn around.

“Do we wanna know what bet it was?” TK asks carefully. “Knowing Buck it was probably hella stupid.”

“You say it like he’s the only one stupid in the team,” Eddie chuckles lightly, “but trust me, we’re just as stupid as him. There’s always some bet going on in the 118.”

“You make me want to transfer,” TK laughs. “I think I’d have so much fun there.”

“You would, that’s for sure.” Eddie agrees and then falls silent. It seems like something else (or someone else) is on his mind and TK’s not sure if he wants to bother him.

“Alright, who wants another beer?” Carlos asks, breaking the silence and smiles brightly. “Maybe we can play some board games, I know Grace has a nice collection of them.”

Both Eddie and TK agree and they’re going to the living room to ask Grace about the games and convince others to join them. It’s not difficult — everyone’s in, even Buck who’s hesitant, nervously glancing at his best friend. Eventually, he agrees too and they all start to play.

TK’s a little bit distracted during the game — he’s mostly focused on observing what’s going on between Buck and Eddie — who somehow ended up sitting next to each other and they’re very much aware of the other man’s closeness — but Carlos saves his ass.

“Don’t they see how insane this is?” TK whispers to his boyfriend when he notices that Eddie accidentally touches Buck’s hand and Buck blushes but pretends he didn’t feel it.

“Babe, I don’t think they see this the same way we do. Just give them a little bit more time, let them talk. Alone.” Carlos answers. “You can nudge them in the right direction, you can encourage them to talk but other things they have to figure out on their own.”

“I know,” TK sighs heavily, “I know.”

━━━━━━━

Turns out, it’s not TK who gets the chance to talk with Eddie. It’s Carlos — who’s definitely surprised when he sees Diaz walking up to him some time later. Buck’s playing with TK, Paul, Marjan, Nancy and Mateo and it seems they have a lot of fun.

“You don’t wanna play anymore?” Eddie asks, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Nah, watching them play is even more entertaining than being a part of the game.” Carlos explains, smiling politely at another man.

“Yeah, I can see that. They’re all very competitive.” Eddie notices; he’s looking at his best friend who’s currently whispering something to TK. They burst out laughing and Eddie winces involuntarily. It’s very subtle and it disappears from his face very quickly but Carlos sees it anyway. He doesn’t want to pry, he knows that it might be very uncomfortable for Eddie, that he might not want to talk about it so he pretends he didn’t notice.

“They are. I think that competitiveness just runs in the Strand family. Mateo is still traumatised after that one time when he was Owen’s roommate and they got drunk together. I think Judd was up for some challenge with him too.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow and glances at Carlos.

“And you are marrying into this family?”

“Maybe one day. If TK says yes.”

“You think he could say anything else?”

Carlos looks at Eddie with curiosity. He’s a little bit surprised by the question; he certainly didn’t expect to talk about his relationship with someone else — someone who is, allegedly, in love with his best friend. He furrows his brows, wondering about the answer.

“Honestly? No. I’m sure he’d say yes. I just think he’s not ready yet. He once proposed to a guy and it didn’t end well. It was right before he moved to Texas and he was in pretty bad shape for a while. I didn’t know that and I might’ve pushed him a little bit too far because I wanted to be in a serious relationship and he wasn’t ready for it. We probably wouldn’t be together now if we didn’t talk honestly about our issues. But we’re good now,” Carlos smiles adorably, “we live together, we know each other quite well and I think we both want the same things.”

“It must be nice to have this level of certainty.” Eddie sighs; his eyes are still on Buck. “I was definitely too young when I married Shannon, it wasn’t a well thought decision. Lately I’ve been thinking about marrying again but when Ravi just assumed me and Ana — my ex — were married, I kinda freaked out so maybe I’m just not a husband material.”

“Or maybe Ana wasn’t the right person?” Carlos suggests. “You know, I had few boyfriends, I was even almost engaged once but I’ve never thought about marriage. Until now, until I met TK. You don’t have to pressure yourself into thinking you have to get married. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. Both options are perfectly fine — as long as you make the decision by yourself and don’t lie to yourself.”

Eddie’s quiet; he knows that Carlos is right, that he might’ve put too much pressure on himself and done some stupid things he’s now regretting.

“How do you…” He starts and then falls silent, not sure if he should ask Carlos that. Eventually, he musters up courage and asks, “when you fight with TK, how do you guys make up?”

“Oh,” blurts out Carlos, surprised once again by the question. “TK usually does the doe eyes and he apologises. I tend to do the same, I don’t like to beat around the bush, I prefer to just talk everything out. It’s nothing special.” He shrugs. He has always been a pretty straightforward guy, he doesn’t like messy situations. Thankfully, TK thinks alike and maybe that’s why they work their issues out very quickly.

“Huh, maybe I should follow your example and just say I’m sorry.” Eddie wonders.

“You’re thinking about Buck, right?” Carlos asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Eddie admits, “I owe him an apology. A very big one. I don’t know if he will forgive me, though.”

“You won’t find out until you try. I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Do you have any extra courage stored up? I think I could use some.” Eddie jokes, even though he still looks a little worried.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty.”

━━━━━━━

Carlos and Eddie talk for another hour; it’s really nice — chatting with someone who turns out to have very similar views. Eddie doesn’t regret that he decided to join the younger man. He feels like it’s just the beginning of a very nice friendship. They discuss a lot of topics — their childhood in Texas, the differences between Austin and LA and family matters. They don’t even notice when Buck and TK are gone.

“Shit, it’s late,” says Eddie when he looks at his watch. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night.”

“Yeah, probably. You’re staying at our house, right?” Carlos ensures and Eddie only nods. They say goodbye to the hosts and get an Uber to Carlos’ apartment. They’re still talking when they enter the house.

“Man, this is a really nice house and I’ve only seen the hallway.” Eddie admits, looking around with curiosity.

“Thanks. We got pretty lucky, we found it maybe two or three weeks after my old apartment burned down.”

“And we reaaaaally didn’t want to live with my dad for too long. I love him but he’s not the easiest person to live with.” TK cuts in, a very pleased smile on his face.

“Probably like all parents. I wanted to move out from my parents’ house as soon as I could, they were really annoying too.” Eddie laughs. He’s about to add something else, but they all hear Buck’s amused voice.

“Dude, can I use that fancy conditioner of yours?” And then, he comes out of the bathroom with only a towel on his waist. He sharply stops when he notices his best friend, who seems to be equally surprised to see him here too.

“What is he doing here?” He asks, a hint of resentment in his voice. He looks at TK — who tries to hide the smug on his face.

“Well, he needs to sleep somewhere.” He shrugs as if it was just a mix-up, not something him and Carlos has planned. “Is it a problem? I don’t think my dad or Judd or Tommy will find any room to let one of you crash.”

“Well, that —” Eddie’s about to answer but Buck quickly interrupts him.

“No. No, it won’t be a problem, of course.”

“Then we’re all settled.” TK smiles broadly. He doesn’t add that they only have one guest room with only one bed; it doesn’t seem like an important thing to mention. “And yes, you can use my conditioner.”

Buck swiftly goes back to the bathroom but Eddie’s still in the same place, he doesn’t move even for a bit.

“Eddie, are you okay? Sorry, I really didn’t know Buck would be here too.” Carlos says apologetically.

“Yeah, m’kay. It happens. Besides, it’s only one night, we won’t kill each other.” Eddie reassures him and finally moves to sit on the couch.

The atmosphere in the living room is a little bit awkward, tense when Buck shows up again but neither TK nor Carlos pay attention to it and Eddie decides to take a shower. After a while, Buck yawns theatrically.

“I’m really tired, I think I’m going back to sleep. Night, boys.” He says, sending them a weak smile.

“Night, Buck. Have nice dreams.” Carlos answers. When he’s sure Buck is in the guest room, he asks his boyfriend. “Do you really wanna do it?”

TK smiles mischievously.

“Absolutely.”

“I really hope it’ll work out.” Carlos sighs. He wasn’t entirely convinced it’s a good idea — but agreed to do it anyway. To minimize the damage , he told himself. To be totally honest, he’s as much invested in this case as TK and he wants to see Buck and Eddie together.

Few minutes later, Eddie goes back to the living room. His hair is still wet but he’s already in his sleeping clothes and he looks a little bit tired.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night, it was a very long day.” He says tentatively.

“Yeah, same. Come on, l’ll show you your bedroom.” TK offers. Eddie nods; he’s too tired to think and maybe that’s why he doesn’t sense it’s a trap. He follows TK’s steps and even goes outside and then, he finally realises, TK led him to Buck’s room.

“Uh, sorry.” He says quietly when Buck glances at him. He takes a step back to go out and presses the doorknob but the door remains closed. “Fuck,” he mutters. He didn’t even hear the jingle of keys or lock twisting and now he’s trapped in one room with his best friend.

“Is it closed?” Buck finally breaks the silence and gets up from the bed. He checks the door himself and when nothing happens, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Tyler Kennedy Strand, you are an absolute fucker!” He shouts and hears a giggle on the other side of the door.

“Don’t waste your voice on me, I won’t open the door. Have fun, boys.” TK replies, clearly entertained and very pleased with himself. Buck knows TK well enough to be convinced that he, indeed, won’t open the door. He should’ve known that his friend was up to something, that his behaviour was a little sketchy all evening. He’s gonna pay for it , he promises himself.

“So what are we doing?” Eddie asks, looking into Buck’s eyes. They’re so close to each other, closer than they’ve been in a month. Once it was something natural, they were basically inseparable and personal space didn’t exist in their vocabulary. And now, this is something weird, unusual.

“You can do whatever you want, I’m going to sleep.” Buck replies indifferently. He lies down on the bed and covers himself with a blanket.

“You know, there’s only one bed. And I’m not planning to sleep on the floor.” Eddie says; his voice is dripping with annoyance and sarcasm. He was relatively calm and collected but he’s just tired. Tired of this whole situation, tired of Buck treating him so coldly, tired of almost everything and his patience has its limits.

“Fine,” Buck sighs heavily and Eddie swears, he can see him rolling eyes. He ignores it and goes to bed. He tries to find a comfortable position to sleep — but it’s really difficult. The bed’s not big enough to fit two grown up men who want to sleep separately and not to touch each other accidentally.

“Are you done?” Buck asks sarcastically.

“Actually, no. I’m not done. I’m just done with you treating me like I don’t exist.”

Buck turns around abruptly and sits to face his best friend. The anger, pain is written all over his face and it’s hard for Eddie to see him like that.

“That’s rich. You were perfectly fine with ghosting me but when I kept our distance, you’re suddenly not okay with it?”

Eddie practically can feel the bitterness between them.

“I didn’t ghost you.” He says quietly. His friend snorts, ready to argue about it but Eddie doesn’t let him. “I’m sorry. I’ve never wanted it to happen. I… I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear. It was a really hard time for me. I needed to focus on Chris and I’m sure you understand it. I also had too much time to think, I was overthinking so many things, I was kinda freaking out. I realised some things and it was really scary.” He admits. He knows that this is the perfect opportunity to open up, to clear out things between them, to finally say something he wanted to say for a long time. “Buck, I’m not good with words but I know I should’ve talked with you and I know I hurt you. I want to fix it, if you give me a chance.”

Buck bites his lip, his eyes never leave Eddie’s.

“I’m so, so angry with you. You know, we’re best friends, we’re supposed to talk about stuff, we’re supposed to share our secrets, fears, we’re supposed to be honest with each other. We promised each other, after my stupid lawsuit, that we won’t keep secrets, that we will work out our issues. I’m angry because you’re not okay since shooting and I know that, I know you but you pretend like you’re fine. Like you brushed it off, forgot about it, like it didn’t affect you. You know what? It really affected me, I thought I’ve lost you — and I don’t know how I would survive if I did. I’m really so freaking angry because you’re not alone in this and I want to help you but you choose to cut me off. I’m angry because you didn’t say a word. You could’ve at least texted me and I was sure I’ve overstepped and you just got tired of me. I’m really pissed off that I’m angry at you — I don’t wanna be because you’re back but I just — I can’t. I’m angry because I still miss you even though you’re here and —”

“I miss you too, Evan.” Eddie interrupts him gently. He moves a little closer, closing the distance between them. “I miss you and I want my best friend back. I want my best friend who is also someone I realised I’m in love with.”

And, like that, the truth is out, and Eddie is not panicking, he doesn’t feel the regret coming in. He’s… Good. Happy. He sees how the confusion on Buck’s face turns into realisation.

“Oh.”

“ Oh , indeed.” Eddie smiles, amused by Buck’s adorable reaction. “It took me a while to figure it all out but I’m sure I’m in love with you.”

“That’s very convenient because I love you too,” Buck finally says and he crashes their lips together. There’s no insecurity, no hesitation. It’s heated, passionate, like they want to pour all of their emotions into this kiss. They have waited long enough to do it and now they don’t want to stop. They take a break only because they hear a weird noise that’s definitely coming from outside the room.

“Do you think TK is eavesdropping right now?” Eddie whispers, looking suspiciously at the door.

“Oh, I’m more than sure.” Buck answers and smiles slyly — and Eddie immediately recognizes this look. “Let’s give them a show, shall we?”

On the other side of the door, TK sends Hen a message.

»you were right, locking them was the best idea«

[existslikepristin]

Please, No Virginity Puns

The most recent thing I posted before tumblr. It was on Choerry's birthday, and I am proud of that.

Tags: TheLounge, Loona, Choerry, male reader insert, it's her birthday!, 100% butt stuff, I ate a thesaurus

~~~~~

It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you get there?

Well, moments prior, you were sitting next to Choerry at your small dinner table. She’s always insisted on sitting as close to you as possible in order to enable near-constant snuggling. It’s gotten a little annoying here and there, but you can’t help but concede to her innocent demands whenever she smiles.

Of course, and not that you’ve ever complained about this, that’s not to say that her demands aren’t always entirely innocent. Most of the time they are, but not always.

That day, for example, you woke her up with breakfast in bed. It wasn’t tradition, but you were just getting her back for the last time she did it for you. And what better day to present her, prone, with a pancake, pulverized potato, and porridge parfait platter… with toppings… than her birthday?!

It can be hard to tell if Choerry is acting or not at times, but you’d like to think that her cartoonish level of enthusiasm for the treat was entirely real. She carried that sunshine throughout the rest of your day, skipping through the park, greeting everybody on the way to, inside, and on the way out of The Lounge, at the surprise party that you helped all of her members get her with, and when she dragged you to her room.

Not a drop of alcohol had touched her lips that night, so it was all the more surprising when she shoved you onto her bed and stated matter-of-factly-but-also-vaguely that she wanted you to put a thing in her butt. Her words came out of her mouth like shimmery soap bubbles.

You had to pause for a moment to process her words. You were certainly up for some sexy times with Choerry. You had anticipated it was going to happen when she put your hand down her pants near the end of the birthday party with no attempt at subtlety. But her exact word choices had you rubbing your temples out of exasperation, even as she stripped herself down to her ridiculously cherry red lingerie.

Your chance to admire that rare view was lost to history, however. She removed the lingerie from her body while she claimed your lips. Your disappointment at not getting the opportunity to remove it yourself quickly faded when she popped back up though.

Her breasts were as perky as her attitude, and also your dick. She was quick to notice the latter and made quick work of your clothes too. She sighed satisfactorily at the sight of your sword and stooped to supply it with a suck and some slickening slobber, so you suspected the sex was starting summarily; more swiftly than standard, it seemed.

Concerned for her well being, you made sure to ask if she had lube available. Again, you weren’t going to complain about her gusto, but she lacked the anal experience that some of your mutual friends had, at least you assumed. Sure enough, there was a bottle mere feet from her reach in her drawer. She grabbed it and jumped back on top of you, pouring it generously over her ass crack and your cock with surprising accuracy for someone so engaged with a hot and heavy kiss.

You were sure you had something to say on the matter. Perhaps some additional words of caution, maybe some other words of encouragement. It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you-- come back around to the exact same thought that the story began with?

“It’s okay, right?”

You attempted to blink away your stupefaction. “O-okay?”

“Mhm! For me to… you know!” She leaned in and whispered directly into your ear, “Put your penis in my butt.”

Ah, yes. The demand that you had nearly forgotten in her flurry of kisses, now slightly reworded to include your dick in the equation. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just checking!”

“We’ve… done this before.”

“I know!” Choerry swooped back in to continue kissing you, implying that she had no intention of expounding further. Her fingers wrapped around your cock, massaging the whole length to ensure that the lube had maximum coverage.

Your breath caught as you felt her readjusting you, tapping you around between her legs as she tried to match you up with her intended target purely via exploration. Your cock was ground between her ass cheeks, the tip slid over her clit, and dipped briefly into her pussy. A groan was the only complaint you could give to only being given a half second of her fantastic heat.

You didn’t have to wait long to get it back. Her ass opened up to the pressure she applied against it with your dick, but exceptionally slowly. Choerry released a series of little exclamations into your mouth as she pushed. She tossed the lube bottle to the side and snatched your hand, curling her fingers into your palm.

Finally, the last pop came, and was followed by a short slide. With no more manual guidance necessary, she grabbed your other hand as well, which promptly slipped out of her grip considering the amount of lube present.

Choerry released you from your kissy bliss to look at her slippery hand, a mixture of anger and amusement on her face. She tried a couple more times to hold your hand with it, but you liked this look. You easily slithered your hand out from under hers every time she slapped down. It was like watching a cat trying to catch a laser pointer.

It was just another reminder that no matter how deep inside Choerry you may physically be, she’ll never stop bringing a goofy-ass smile to your face.

Finally, you relented and entwined your fingers with hers, locking your knuckles together so you wouldn’t fall apart. She glared down into your eyes, but a grin still crept through. “Thank you,” she said, lips tight and nose scrunched up.

With you fully in her grasp, Choerry straightened herself up, allowing you the opportunity to look up and down her sublime figure. Though her movement caused her to cause you to penetrate her a bit further which caused her to flinch slightly, she kept herself aloft on her knees to not go too far all at once. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths there, as calmly as if she was meditating.

As much as you wanted to go ham on her ham, you didn’t want to hurt her, so you contented yourself with watching her chest rise and fall. “Happy birthday…” you whispered.

“You’ve already told me that today,” Choerry intoned, eyes still closed like she was drifting off into her own little world.

You laughed. “I was saying it to myself! Have you seen you?”

She smiled again, and said three words in a voice that made it seem like she was speaking to an audience on the edge of their seats, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Her fingers constricted around yours, so you questioned if she was, in fact, ready. But you wouldn’t be the one to stop her.

Choerry’s tight tush trucked its way toward the top of your tower twice to tighten her take on the task at the time, before torturously trending testicle-ward. She temporized without taking your entire tool.

So hypnotized were you with her graceful movement that you didn’t even notice the frustrated moan coming up your throat until it was too late.

Her eyes popped open. “I’m sorry!” She sounded like she meant it, too. “This is… tough.”

“Take your time,” you said, straining your voice for comic effect.

“Could have used that four paragraphs ago,” she said, continuing her extremely slow descent down your shaft.

The odd statement distracted you just long enough for Choerry to finish her drop. No longer did space separate your pelvises. You grew concerned again when she winced and bit her lip from the inside.

“Choerry, we really can do something else. Don’t hurt yourself please.”

She gave you an exaggerated, indignant gander. “Rhetorical question: Who gets to choose the cake on her birthday?”

You held in your “cake” joke.

“It’s me,” Choerry’s voice was far too chipper to make this talking-to sound as stern as you were sure she wanted it to come across as. “As birthday lady, I get to pick the cake, and I get to feed it to you if I want to.”

You held in your “cake feeding” joke.

“And tonight, the cake I pick is my bum.”

You opened your mouth to comment on her most excellent selection of the word “bum” in the midst of a scenario where your cock is fully inside of said bum, but you instead gasped a sharp breath.

Choerry ground forward, pulling your dick with her and anointing the lowermost part of your stomach with the juices being lightly sprinkled from her clit.

“Besiiides,” she continued, re-angling her hands to she could tickle the backs of yours, “We have all the lube! Even some that’s got a certain special flavor to it!”

“Just some?”

“Yeah, ooh,” she crooned, apparently quite enjoying the grind back down your pelvis, “I didn’t get it all at once. Now guess the flavor!”

You waited for her grinding to pause again to be able to think straight, “Does it start with a ‘C?’”

Her smile grew. “Yes!”

“Is it a fruit?”

“Yes!”

“Is it… cherry?”

“Failure!”

“Wha--”

“It’s coconut!”

If you weren’t so established in your hand holding with Choerry, you’d have palmed your face. Thankfully, thoughts of how she could have possibly expected you to guess that were pushed to the back of your mind as she resumed her removal of your breath with a series of fanciful body rolls.

Finally fucking her fanny felt fictional. For while not the first foray there, far-fetched was the philosophy that it was fielded often, the front being the favored fornication fissure for the foreseeable future. Unless, of course, you could make this an especially special session.

But woe was unto you. Choerry had the upper hand(s) figuratively as well as literally. But, perhaps, you thought, this was exactly what she wanted and you could wait your damn turn to take control.

And you liked letting her anally probe herself this way, so, you know, what were you to do but enjoy the ride?

Over the course of her self-imposed ravaging, Choerry’s meditative breaths became ragged. Her eyelids fluttered at regular intervals. Through it all, she held her phantasmagorical demeanor. A couple of times she reached for the lube bottle and shotgunned it somewhat inaccurately between her legs, but it did the job. You were happy to see that she was still considering her own comfort.

In fact, to your surprise, her mouth opened wide in a silent shout. Her core trembled anticipatorily. Her hands held yours with a colossally increased lewdness. And those two mystical words trickled from her tongue with a high-pitched susurration, “I’m… cumming…”

Choerry’s grinding came to a grinding halt. Her body jerked and she fell onto you. Your cock sprang free of her ass in, and as a result of, the same motion.

You untangled one of your hands to stroke her back in the most adoring fashion you could muster. After chewing on a thesaurus for the prior hour, you were sure neither of you really needed any more words.

She stayed there for a spell, and you were happy to let her. It was so late it was nearly no longer her birthday, but her birthday it still was. She deserved the rest, along with the rest of your undivided attention.

Her whole movement consisted of her back going up and down as her lungs attempted to revive her fighting spirit, and her thumb lovingly shifting over the divinatory lines on your palm. You wished she would do something about her hair plastered on your chin, but ninety-nine percent of paradise is paradise enough.

You were disappointed when Choerry rose once more, slimily straddling your stomach. She detached her hands from yours to give the hair on either side of her face a good backward flick over her shoulders, and she sighed with contentment.

It was a shock to hear her speak again after such a prolonged reticence, but her unerringly cheerful voice was entirely welcome nonetheless.

“More please.”

You couldn’t then, and you still can’t help but concede to her innocent demands. Her smile just touched the corner of her lips. Sure, some of her demands aren’t so innocent, but… How did you get here again?

[jikookiekosmos]

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv​​​​ for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk​ @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

[andreafmn]

Running In Circles - Chapter 2

Word Count: 2,663

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter Description: The team goes back to work as Aaron Hotchner considers retiring from the team and spend time with his son. (Y/n) can’t help but provide emotional support for the Hotchner boys.

A/N: I enjoy angst and slow burns way too much XD. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 2

Once it was over, the interviews came. We knew the story. We lived it. The case was open and shut. They could try and make us pint it all on Hotch, the easy way out, but we knew better. And we would stand next to our unit chief whatever the price.

Haley’s funeral was no easier than being at the scene. It was a somber day and the sadness was imprinted in us. We all walked with dropped shoulders and a tight chest. I stood between Derek and Reid, using Morgan as support because I felt that my legs would give out at any moment. My father stood behind me rubbing circles on my back to comfort me. As we laid the roses on top of the casket, we laid to rest the life of Haley, a woman I only knew through the loving words Hotch spoke of.

The group did not know what to do to help the heartbroken man. It would take time to heal even just the smallest bit of his heart. All we could hope for was that he would come back to the team.

At the worst possible moment, the phone rings. No other team available and someone in need, we had to go to work. We all rolled our eyes or shook our heads; this was the job. But would it be the same without him?

I went to Hotch before we left and gave him a hug.

“Call me if you guys need anything,” he said.

“Just take care of your son,” I smiled, and he softly returned one of his own. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left to join the team.

On the plane, we were caught up with the case. We stored all our feelings and got the machines running. We needed to finish this quickly and perfectly.

Two women, both brunettes and young, high-powered executives, murdered in their own homes, the floor around them decorated with flower petals. After Emily and Derek visited the crime scene, we had another part of the puzzle, the unsub was stalking his victims. Everything just seemed so perfect and staged, there was no way he was not prepared.

I stayed with JJ in the station working on the announcement and trying to figure something else from the details provided and the crime scene photos, but JJ could see my head wasn’t in it completely for the first time.

“Hey,” she said, taking my attention from the piece of paper I had been eyeing for the past five minutes. “What’s on your mind? Talk to me.”

“Is it wrong that I feel bad for being here?” I sighed. “Working like nothing’s happened.”

“Of course not, we all feel a bit guilty,” she smiled. “I know you most of all.”

My eyes opened in shock.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). Everyone knows you have a not-so-secret crush on Hotch,” she laughed. “The only one that can’t see it is him. And probably your dad. Parents can be quite oblivious to their children’s feelings in this way.”

My head flew into my hands to cover the embarrassment that was flooding my cheeks. It was one thing to assume the whole team knew, another was to have it confirmed.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), we’ll see what comes of it. What I can say is that you can’t let this stop you from doing your job.”

She smiled one last time and it was all I needed to push Aaron Hotchner to the back of my mind and bring the case forward.

“Find anything?” My father asked entering the small room at the police station, Reid following behind.

“Several people had access to each home,” I said rubbing my temple. “Housekeeper, gardener, pool cleaner, dog walker…”

“Each with their own key and an alibi to match,” JJ added, an annoyed tone rolling off her tongue.

“Any crossover?”

“None. We even vetted delivery people and utility workers.” I sighed.

“Garcia, do you have anything?” Reid said, sitting down.

“There’s no hits at the prints at all. But I did what Sir Derek there asked, and I created a paper trail,” Penny explained. “There’s no cross-over between the two victims themselves in the weeks leading up to their murders, but they did run in similar circles.”

Penelope continued to explain how both victims lived quite a lavish and high-class lifestyle as Emily and Derek joined us. We figured this man would fit right in this crowd. Educated, intelligent, a gentleman. What we had yet to pinpoint was how the unsub entered the homes with no signs of forced entry. It was clear we were not going to make any headway tonight and Derek knew it too. So, he decided we should be done for the day and we would come back tomorrow well-rested and with fresh eyes.

That night I laid in the bed of my hotel room staring at the ceiling. All I could think of was Hotch and everything he was going through. I could only imagine.

And as if by fate, my phone rang. Aaron Hotchner.

“Hello?”

“Oh,” Hotch said surprised. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just worried about you.”

He chuckled softly. “You really shouldn’t.”

“But I do, Hotch.”

He stayed silent, only his slow breathing was heard through the phone.

“Did I fail her?” He asked after some minutes of comfortable silence.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promised her that I would catch Foyet and spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“And you still can.”

“But” he exhaled loudly. “How?”

“By being the best father you can be to Jack and continue living your life in the best way you can.”

“You know, Dave told me that I had to figure out what kind of father I wanted to be and then I’d know what to do. But I have no idea what that is.”

“Hotch…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what kind of father I am. I catch killers. I save lives. I’m a hero until my key hits the front door, and then I’m just the father who’s never there. Haley was raising Jack all by herself and that was my support blanket. I was able to do my job because I knew he was cared for by another parent. A better parent.”

He sobbed softly as the last words escaped his mouth.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, trying my best not to sound angry. “To that little boy, you are the only real hero that exists. He knows that when you’re not home it’s because you’re out here catching the bad guys like Foyet and making the world better for his sake. He knows that everything you do is out of love for him.

You know, when I was little my dad was absent quite a lot because of this job, but there was one thing that I knew for sure, that he loved me more than anything and that he worked better and faster because he wanted to come back home to me. And never ever have I resented him for leaving and catching the bad guys. He’s the reason I became an FBI agent.

You are an amazing father and anything you choose will be the right thing for Jack.”

After a minute of sobs, Hotch started to calm down.

“Thank you, (Y/N). You have no idea how much I needed that right now,” he cleared his throat. “How’s the case going?”

“Nope,” I laughed. “Not going to talk about the case.”

“Really?” He chuckled.

“Yes, Hotch. Take a breather. You deserve it.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, and I could hear his smile through the phone.

We had been talking for about an hour when I heard him yawn.

“Seems you’re getting sleepy there, Hotchner.” I laughed. “We should both get some rest. If it’s 3 am over here it must be 2 am in Washington. So, good night and see you soon.”

“Good night, (Y/N). Again, thank you. Sweet dreams.” And he hung up.

And finally, I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, we were up and ready for business.

“We believe our unsub is already with his next victim,” my father started. “If he matches the patter, she’ll be a successful woman, probably brunette, early 30s to mid-40s. She’ll be at home in Nashville’s upper echelon.”

“This means that he fits in,” I explained. “He drives the right car, he wears the right clothes, he’s highly intelligent. He probably comes from a place of status.”

“This guy’s sociable and he’s endearing,” said Morgan. “You would never suspect that this man is capable of murder. But he will do whatever it takes to protect the fantasy that he’s trying to relive.”

“It’s this fantasy which fuels his drive. He’s reliving a romantic evening and recreating it with each of his victims.”

“He most likely had a relationship taken away from him,” Derek crossed his arms. “So, look at men who have lost loved ones or have gone through a messy divorce.”

After finishing with the profile, we set out to establishments that fit the criteria to possibly get a suspect. As we worked, we got a call. Another crime scene, but this one was different.

A male victim. Overkill on the female. Something made him change his M.O.

Out in the garage, Reid and I looked for any sort of clues and I noticed his sight direct to the car. There may be another way we could connect the victims and how the unsub made their way into their homes.

Finally, Garcia had something with the hunch Spencer had figured. She overlaid all the geographical routes the victims had taken against the geo profile to show what we were missing with any paper trail. Although it was not a clear answer, Erika Silverman was the only one that did not fit the extravagant lifestyle and she only went and came from her work or her home. Except on Tuesday, where she went to the Botanical Gardens, what was she doing there? JJ, Reid, and I left for the gardens to find out.

And just as we had suspected, there had been an event to which Erika had attended. And a puzzle piece revealed itself.

“An event up here would be a hard sell for women in heels,” JJ commented.

“Well, most of our private events hire valets to drive the cars down to the base of the park so they don’t have to hike it up the hill.”

“Who had access to your keys but goes unseen?” Reid asked.

“And to your GPS,” I added.

“Dealerships program your home address into the navigation system before your car even leaves the lot.”

“He had turn-by-turn directions straight to her front door and the keys to get him inside,” I pointed.

We now had how he got his victims and how he entered their house without force. Now, all we had to do was pinpoint his next victim and see who he was.

JJ was instructed to get dad and Prentiss to pick up the owner of the valet service used in the event, and Derek, Reid, and I stayed behind to canvass the employees. We could catch this guy in action unless he had already gotten his next victim.

Joe Belser. That was our unsub. With the profile, the owner was able to point out the suspect quickly. And off we were.

JJ, Reid, and I headed to the venue and the rest of the team went to Belser’s house. He wasn’t in the apartment, but they had found the meaning behind the roses and universal garage door openers. In the venue, Reid called Garcia to see which of the VIP guests could be the next potential victim.

Ann Herron was the next victim, and he was already at her house.

“FBI! PUT IT DOWN!” Derek screamed, blinding Joe with his flashlight. I walked in from behind Derek and kneed Belser’s stomach. He fell to the ground groaning and Emily grabbed the man by the throat to immobilize him.

“Fantasy’s over,” she spat. “Is that what you did to them? You hit them to shut them up and then forced them to play along with your sick delusion?”

 “I love them,” Joe said sinisterly.

“You’re finally gonna meet your soulmate, Joe,” I added from behind Prentiss. “In prison.”

“Only you’re not gonna be able to push him around like you did those women,” Emily continued. “And when he comes for you in the middle of the night, when you’re least expecting it, you do me a favor. Play along.” 

She stood the man up forcibly and put him in handcuffs and I went outside to check on the victim.

“How is she?” Derek asked walking out of the house with my father.

“She’s strong,” I said closing the ambulance door. “She’ll make it. But you don’t survive something like that without scars.”

“Scars remind us where we’ve been,” my father commented. “They don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my head as we walked back to the SUVs, finally on our way home.

The next day, I called up my dad so he would accompany me to Haley’s grave. Something told me I had to go. At the cemetery, I saw what the pull was. Sitting in front of the headstone less grave was Hotch. I walked up to him first, my father close behind. Hotch lifted his head and stared into my eyes, sitting up slightly.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” I spoke softly. “Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?” He mused.

“That you’re coming back to the team,” my father joined his left side. Hotch looked at him. “That fighting the bad guys is who you are.”

Hotch lowered his head and shook it. “I don’t have to tell her. She already knows.”

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and gave him a soft smile. My father did the same and walked to my side, so we’d retreat, giving Hotch some space.

“So, do you want me to drive you back to your house?” My father asked.

“No,” I smiled. “I’m gonna stay with Hotch for a bit and then I’ll go home.”

“Okay, darling.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up on Monday then. Ciao, Mia Bella.”

“Bye, dad.”

Once my dad left, I sat down on a bench and waited for Hotch.

“(Y/N), you’re still here?” Hotch questioned with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, thought you might want some company.”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled. “I do. Thank you.”

“How about this, we pick up Jack, you guys come over and I crack open a present I had for Jack.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he motioned me to his car. “Let’s go.”

We drove quietly to his apartment, only the low volume of the radio and the sound of our breathing could be heard. It didn’t take long to arrive at the complex, where he opened the car door for me and led me upstairs. Inside apartment #121, was Jessica Brooks, Haley’s sister, and Jack playing a card game.

“(Y/N)!” Jack screamed as soon as I walked through the door, running to give me a hug.

“Hey, buddy!” I hugged back.

“Hotch, you’re back,” she exclaimed. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).”

“Good to see you, too,” I smiled. “How you holding up?”

“As good as I can be.” She answered as she began to gather her things. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye, little guy.”

“Bye, Aunt Jessica.”

“Bye, guys.” She said as she left.

“Hey, little man,” I directed to Jack. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“How about you to pack a go-bag and you and dad come over so we can open a present I have for you?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sped off to his room to pack.

“I think you should go help him,” I smiled at Hotch. “If I have any memory of being a kid, they’re not very good at packing.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Maybe I should.”

I waited for both father and son to pack for the night asking myself why I was putting myself in this position. Growing closer to a man I had a 0% chance with. But I couldn’t help it. All in all, he was my friend, and he needed all the support he could get.

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A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

[winterscaptain]

constellations.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: as usual, an ajf fic that requires very little context. i’m so sorry this took so long!! i was busy thinking about how to quit my job this week and then KIRA CAME TO VISIT ME (we’re being safe and covid-conscious!) so this took a couple of days longer than expected. also - i see your beautiful messages! i will keep chipping away at them :)

you can expect the route 66 fic on tuesday at 11pm pdt!

words: 4.4k warnings: canon-typical discussions of violence, some mention of canon-typical sexual assault, language

summary: as hotch recovers from the explosion in new york, you find yourself more concerned than you expected. (au!2008)

masterlist | a joyful future master list | requests closed!

“The Angel Maker. I remember the case.” 

It’s a fairly normal start to the week, with a case packed and ready for you at 10am. Aaron was out of the field for a week or so with his injuries, but his presence at the round table and the go bag you spotted beside his desk this morning warms you. 

He’s back. Not completely, but that’s better than not at all. 

“They caught that guy.” Reid’s flipping through the case file, but you know he’s got one ear open. 

Rossi’s on the same page, and finishes Reid’s thought. “And executed him.” 

“That’s right,” JJ says. “He was put to death by lethal injection a year ago yesterday.” 

You release a little breath you were holding. “Yesterday?”

That’s a clear enough trigger for a fanatic. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen something like this, either with your tenure at the BAU or in previous case studies at the academy. It was always a little shocking - the lengths people go to complete the work of the devil they romanticize...

Derek throws a finger at you as if to say Exactly. “So we’re looking for a copycat.” 

“Honoring the anniversary of his hero’s death.” Dave sits back in his chair, almost satisfied. You smile a little. 

The confidence of a seasoned profiler. 

Aaron catches your smile, and his lips pull just the barest amount. You shake your head, suppressing a wider grin. 

Funny, isn’t it?

His brows tug. What?

It’s so...normal. And so predictable. You sit back, peering at Aaron over your copy of the file. He huffs (you recognize it as a laugh, though the rest of his face remains exactly the same) and turns his attention toward Reid, who’s still flipping through the file. 

“It says here they found semen at the crime scene. Perhaps locals will get a DNA match through VICAP?” When you follow Aaron’s gaze to Spencer, you’re not surprised to see him already absorbed in the latter half of the report. 

“See, that’s where things get weird.” Her face screws up. “They already ran it, and got a match.” She throws the file toward you, and you open it. 

“If they already have a name, why’d they call us?” Emily’s confusion is swallowed up in your own. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You look over at Hotch, who takes the file from your hands. “The match they got back on the DNA is to Courtland Bryce Ryan -” 

Hotch lets out a sharp huff. “The Angel Maker.” You meet his gaze again. 

This is going to be a weird one. 

“Wheels up in thirty.” 

+++

You lean against the back of Hotch’s chair, peering over his shoulder as ideas bounce around the cabin. He’s focused on Reid along with the rest of you as the younger agent spins a theory. 

Derek’s the first one to question his particularly amusing line of thought. “Reid, you’re not seriously floating the idea of an evil twin, are you?”

“No. I’m floating the idea of an eviler twin.” Reid looks dead serious, and Hotch glances up at you. You shake your head a little, and he shrugs before restoring his attention. “Traditionally the concept is good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, eviler twin.” 

You swallow a laugh as both Derek and Emily look at him like he’s grown three extra heads all at once. 

Before any of you can say anything, Aaron’s hand rises to his forehead and his face scrunches up in pain. You place a hand on his shoulder from over the seat, patting him for his attention. “Hotch?” 

He hums something that sounds like, “Yeah?”

“Are you cleared to fly?”

He sucks in a breath to cover a wince, and you take that as a no. 

You sink your hands into his hair as he tips his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. The tips of your fingers find the little pressure points around his head, and you lean forward, keeping your voice soft. “Does that help?”

He nods, just a little, and you’re satisfied. You look at Derek over Hotch’s head, and he looks just as concerned as you feel. 

+++

“I give you a legacy. A breath of life from the Angel Maker himself. Those who prayed to forget me will one day see my face and shrink in fear.” Reid recites aloud from the letter, and you listen with your head propped on your hand. 

The sheriff sighs and crosses his arms. “That’s the last thing people need right now.” 

“Reid, how does that compare with the original correspondence?” Derek ignores the sheriff, redirecting his attention to the letter and the genius holding it. 

You jump on Derek’s line of thinking. “It can’t be authentic, can it?” You drop your hand from your chin and lean toward Spencer, feeling Aaron hover over your shoulder. 

“They share some compelling characteristics. I’d obviously like to look at it under a magnification under a better light…”

Obviously.

Hotch’s voice almost startles you, right by your ear. “Best guess, Reid?”

“I’d say it’s authentic.” Rather than looking at Hotch, he looks at you. Your furrowed brow speaks for everyone present. 

“How can it be authentic if the guy’s been dead for over a year?” Looking over at Hotch, you hope he has something better than paranormal speculation. 

He doesn’t disappoint. “It could be an elaborate forgery.” 

“Or,” Reid adds, “it could be a genuine article, just written before his death.” 

You hum. “That's my favorite of the theories so far.” 

The sheriff shakes his head, coming up on your other side. It’s almost comical the way you’re all crowded around the letter. “Mail here isn’t that slow.” 

Derek’s the only one who hasn’t joined you. He’s still happily posted up at the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed. You glance at him before offering, “Could have been released through an intermediary.”

“You mean the copycat?” Reid asks. 

Nodding, you suggest, “He could be buried in those visitor logs - we’re checking them out now to see who visited Ryan and how often.” 

Derek finally joins you. “That’ll narrow the suspect pool.”

Hotch flinches again and his fingers press to his brow as the front door opens, allowing the rush of a truck to sound through the room. 

“Hotch?”

He waves you off. “I’m fine.” 

Liar. 

There’s nothing you can do. 

+++

You’re with Derek in one of the interrogation rooms, going through letter upon letter from Ryan’s time in prison. “What happens if Hotch actually loses his hearing?” You can’t help the overwhelming notes of concern coloring your voice. “I mean, what are we going to say to Strauss? ‘Excuse me ma’am, if our unit chief goes deaf because he won’t fucking slow down, can he still be our unit chief?’ I mean - “

You shut your mouth as Hotch walks into the room. Shame floods through you. It was more than unkind to talk about him behind his back as it was, and here you were - broadcasting your worst fears about his condition to one of your closest mutual friends. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -” 

Aaron once again waves you off. “It’s alright.” He comes to rest beside you, and you reach for his arm in apology. 

“How are you feeling?”

He shakes his head, and Derek leaves the two of you alone, closing the door behind him. Hotch looks over his shoulder, satisfied that you’re on your own. 

“Dizzy. Nauseated. Tired.” It’s like a checklist - matter-of-fact and without bias. 

You take stock of him. The cuts on his face are healing nicely, and the bruise on his cheek is fading. The bags under his eyes, though, betray the lack of sleep. “What can I do?”

He shakes his head with something that isn’t a smile if you don’t know him. “Nothing. Just keep doing good work.” 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive earlier.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m just worried, is all.” Your voice tapers off at the end of your thought, just a little embarrassed. 

A little breath leaves his nose, and you know it’s sort of a laugh. “I know.” He presses a hand to your shoulder for a moment before diving into one of the boxes himself.

+++

Hotch walks quickly, and you keep up as best you can as he informs the sheriff, “I have to advise against this.” 

“All due respect, this isn’t your town. I have to convince them that Courtland Ryan is dead and buried.” 

Hotch glances back at you, and you shrug. 

Small towns. Serial killers. What are you gonna do?

The cemetery is relatively quiet, the sleepy town waiting for something to happen with bated breath. It’s not like anyone would be taking late-night walks anytime soon. 

His head tips, and you know he agrees. Nevertheless, he turns back toward the sheriff. “You’re indulging the killer by perpetuating the ruse he’s created.” 

Nice. Five dollar words for the two-bit sheriff. 

“He’s right. It may embolden him. Prompt more murders.” Emily says, watching the proceedings with a discerning eye. You can only agree. 

The sheriff shakes his head. “Celia lost her only daughter to that murdering bastard. We met when I was working the case and had gotten close. I thought we were past all this, but...I guess I was kidding myself.” 

The crane starts up, and there’s a sinking feeling that you’ve forgotten about something as the chains tighten and begin to lift the coffin. All at once, you remember and turn as Hotch steps away, his hand over his ear and the other pressed against his brow again. 

You hover beside him, not sure what to do. Pressing your hands to his forearms, you do your best to shield him from some of the sound with your body. 

He makes a weak attempt to wave you off, but his voice startles you. It’s so small as he insists, “I’m alright. I’m fine. Just -”

“Hotch -”

“I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay. Yeah.” 

You don’t believe him for a second, but as the noise decreases, so does his agony. He removes his hands from his ears for a moment. He’s blinking rapidly, looking simultaneously dazed and far too aware. 

“Aaron…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m fine. I’m okay.” 

Your lips press into a thin line and you remove your hands from his arms. “Take it easy. I can’t make your life hell if you can’t hear me, alright?”

Your teasing has the intended effect, and he levels you with his signature glare that’s only halfway playful. 

+++

“The victim is Maxine Chandler. The neighbors say she’s lived here her whole life. All twenty-eight years of it.” 

The house is infused with the presence of children - play structures, toys, the whole nine. Aaron voices your thoughts. “How many kids does she have?” 

“None of her own. She runs a daycare. The guy who called 911 came here to drop off his toddler and found Maxine in her bedroom.”

That’s an eventful morning. 

“Well,” you note, “now that we have more than one victim, we can compare victimology.” 

Hotch nods, and you meet his eyes for a moment. “Different data points should help us significantly narrow the profile.” 

“I’ll get JJ to bring us the files on the first victim.” Morgan says, his phone already in his hand. 

“What did you find?” 

The coroner runs you through his findings, and they’re not much different from the first murder, but there is one notable difference. 

“Nine puncture wounds,” Emily notes, her dark eyes roaming over the body. 

You’re close to Hotch, watching them bounce off each other. It’s always inspiring to watch them. As close as you and Aaron are, you were deeply impressed but his professional relationship with Emily. There’s part of you that chalks it up to your age - they are only two years apart. They form their own little age bracket on the team while you, JJ, and Spencer make up the younger strata. 

More often than not, the three of you were able to keep up with each other just like Emily and Aaron. 

“Can I have your pen?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.” Hotch pulls the pen from his inside pocket, handing it over into her eager hands. “What is it?” 

You wait as she doodles something into her notepad before her head whips up. “She did this.” 

“What do you mean?” You’re not following, and you can tell Hotch isn’t either. 

“The unsub. She made this before she made the puncture wounds.” 

Hotch tips his chin, understanding. “That’s why the coroner found paper in the wounds.” 

“It was a template. The Angel Maker did it from memory, but she needed a guide to get it right.” 

You pull your phone out, already dialing Reid as Hotch says. “We need to go back and re-examine each of the patterns. Where’s Reid?” 

“Spence. Hey. We have something for you.” You pass the phone and a little smile to Hotch, who takes both with a grateful look. 

Emily watches the exchange, feeling suddenly like an outsider - almost an intruder. There’s something between you two, always has been, but this moment is such a clean-cut outline of it. You’re constantly anticipating the needs of the other, ready with a warmth and fondness at a moment’s notice. 

She sees it again when he presses your phone back into your waiting hand. You take it and brush past him as he turns over his shoulder to follow you out the door. It almost looks choreographed. In fairness, you’d both done it what feels like thousands of times before. 

When you pause in the living room, both turning at the same time when Derek calls for Hotch, a shadow of a thought crosses her mind. It’s gone before it’s truly there, and she lets it go. 

+++

Reid’s finally cracked it, and you’re all crowded around him again as he explains what he’s found. He profiled the author, figured out the cypher used by the Aryan Brotherhood, and generally made use of his insane brain. The patterns themselves are constellations, woven into every aspect of their relationship. 

You find a smile breaking out over your face as you listen to Spencer spin. Hotch leans over and whispers, “He hasn’t let loose in a while, has he?” You’re standing on his left, of course, just in case. 

Shaking your head, you laugh a little. Emily’s looking at Spencer like he’s from another planet. She pokes him and voices the thought you’ve all had at least once. “He’s so lifelike.”

Her comment gets a laugh out of you and a smile out of Aaron. You’re warmed by it. 

+++

You clear and search Chloe Kelcher’s house, staying firmly attached to Aaron’s seven o’clock position, right off his left shoulder. 

“Alright. We all know what the endgame is. She’s looking for her final victim. She may have already chosen one.” Hotch looks around, suggesting assignments with the flicker of his eyes around the house. “Let’s tear this place apart, look for anything that might tell us who she’s targeted.”

You follow Hotch and Derek into the nursery, noting the stars on the ceiling. The crib captures your attention - the carefully placed onesie indicating the pain of a woman in denial. Your brow crumples, and Aaron steps up beside you, nudging a couple of stuffed animals out of the way as a cursory search. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just...thinking.” The trigger is as clear as a neon sign, and you’re sure much saner people would break down like this at the loss of a child. There’s a silent prompting as he stands beside you, waiting for you to elaborate. “I dunno. I can just see how someone close to reasonable would be in bad enough shape after something like this, not to mention someone as unstable as our unsub.” 

He sighs. “It must have devastated her to think that she could hold on to Ryan by having his child and then lose the baby.” 

Derek hums from across the room, joining the conversation. “Completing his murders became the only way she could hold onto him.”

Something strikes Aaron then - something intangible. He turns and opens the trunk in the corner of the room. Its contents pull your upper lip up in disgust.

With a dubious pair of eyebrows, Aaron notes, “Not the only way.” 

“Guess that answers that.” 

+++

You reach the final victim’s house, and you can only hope you’ve made it in time. Hotch immediately assumes authority, leading collaboration between the BAU and local law enforcement. He assigns Derek to find an opening into the house, while he directs the sheriff to bring all the cars to the front, no lights. 

He finds a megaphone for Emily, and you take your place at his left side, crouched to take the low firing point through the car’s open window. 

“Hit the lights,” he directs, and they do. 

All at once, it’s bright - nearly daylight. Emily starts talking, and you’re singularly focused on the front of the house. The windows, the door, and the curtains are all within your purview. You glance up at Hotch, who glances down at you. He unholsters his weapon, and you bump his hip with your elbow and return your attention to the front of the house

“Go into the pouch next to my extra magazines.” 

You can sense rather than see his frown. 

“Just trust me. Open it.” 

His left hand finds your belt while he continues to scan the area, unclipping the pouch without looking. You hear a huff of laughter as he finds what you left for him. 

“Put one in your right ear and don’t argue with me.” Your voice is still low, but you dropped into the tone you learned from him, only half-joking. 

He rolls his eyes and stuffs the foam earplug in his bad ear before unholstering his weapon. 

“Door,” you warn as the front screen opens.  

“Chloe. Drop the gun.” Aaron’s voice is heavy with authority, and the sheriff backs him up. 

The world slows down when she raises the gun toward you all, and the sheriff fires. Despite the earplug, Aaron immediately collapses, dropping his service weapon at your feet and covering his ears with his hands. You holster your weapon and turn toward him on sheer instinct. 

You retrieve the gun, checking the safety and slipping it into your waistband. When you return your attention to him, he’s almost folded completely into himself, pained groans leaving him. Rossi beat you to him, half-holding him up, but he shifts Aaron to you when you reach them both. 

“Aaron.” You wrap him in your arms and he takes some of his weight as his feet get back under him. He leans into you, and you do your best to support him. “Hotch, are you okay?”

He reaches out, finding your arm and gripping tight. You stay steady, almost in tears. It’s agonizing to see him in pain. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Liar.

+++

The next day, it’s decided he’ll drive one of the cars home, instead of taking the plane. 

You laugh as Derek throws the keys at Spencer. Hotch steps up beside you, throwing his go bag in one of the cars. Going out on a bit of a limb, you ask, “Want any company?” You keep your voice low, just in case anyone’s listening. 

First of all, you don’t want to out yourself in front of your colleagues - they all know how much you care about him and you don’t want them getting any ideas. Second of all, you know how Hotch gets when he’s alone too long. 

He raises his eyebrows for a second, but Dave interrupts his thought before he can share it with you. “Why don’t you two drive together? It’ll be a better trip with some company and you can’t stand the rest of us for more than three hours at a time.” 

Hotch snorts. “Fine.” He looks over at you and you shrug and throw your go bag in the backseat with his. 

“I’m good with that. What are you thinkin’? Straight through, or are we taking a the scenic route?”

Dave pipes in again. “I think a couple of days could do you both some good. It’s been a long few weeks.” 

You and Hotch look at each other. You look back at Dave. “Good idea. See you Tuesday?”

He nods and joins the rest of the team in the other car, slipping into the passenger seat. 

+++

The car is quiet for the first half hour or so. You’re driving - it’s the only way Aaron can hear you in the car, so you’ll probably nap or post up in the backseat when it’s his turn to take the wheel. 

You glance over at him before you hit the state line. “You’re thinking very loudly over there.” 

A smile pulls at his lips. The heel of his hand supports his cheekbone as his elbow rests on the window ledge. “Am I?”

“Mhmm.” 

He shrugs a little. “It’s weird not driving.” 

“Ah. So that’s why you’ve been silent for the last…” you check the clock on the dash, “thirty nine minutes.” You’re teasing him and he knows it, but it’s also loaded with questions. 

There’s silence, and you wait for him. It’s another thing you’ve learned about him in the last year. Sometimes he’s quiet, but he never avoids you for long. 

“I’m thinking about Kate.” 

There he is. 

You prompt him a little, intrinsically knowing he needs a direction. “Did she have family?”

He nods. “An older sister. She’s flying in from London for the service, but their parents are gone and she wasn’t married, so...that’s it.” 

Still looking at the road, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around his forearm. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.” 

His hand covers yours for a second. “Thanks.”

You pull back, adjusting your grip on the wheel. A question pushes at your lips, but you roll it around in your head before you really consider asking it aloud. 

“You can ask.” 

Your head whips toward him for just a moment. “What?”

“You can ask,” he repeats, the shadow of a smile crossing his face. “I know you want to.”

You concede with a little chuff. “Fine. What happened between you and Kate?” 

“In what sense?” He’s totally fucking with you, and you shove at his shoulder. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” 

He shakes his head. “Alright, fine. There was…” he searches, “a moment when she and I were finished working together on the Scotland Yard case that something...happened.” 

“Something?”

“Well,” he amends, “nothing actually happened, but let’s just say she had a couple too many and made her intentions very clear.” 

Can’t blame her for that one. 

Yeah, and that’s why we don’t get drunk with everyone else. Shit happens. 

You glanced at him, suppressing a smile. “So what happened?”

He shakes his head, and there’s a sort of dry humor in his voice when he answers,“Obviously, she was pretty out of it, so I took her back to her place and made sure she was settled for the night with a glass of water and some aspirin.” A smile cuts through his huff of laughter. You’re not surprised to hear mourning in it, too. “She was miserable in the morning, and called me to ask what happened the night before. I may have...very loosely implied that something small might have happened, just to save her the embarrassment.” 

He pauses, and you know he’s a little reluctant to be this vulnerable - you’re almost sure he never expected to tell this story to anyone, let alone you. 

“The attraction was mutual, so I didn’t feel too bad about omitting the consequences of her…” he searches for a word again, “forwardness. It was - is - something I respect about her both personally and professionally.” 

“Did you ever tell Haley?”

He shook his head. “I told her the truth - that she needed some help getting home, I set her up for the night, and came right back. She wasn’t thrilled, but she and Kate got on well enough that she didn’t mind too much. I think she was more annoyed that I got home so late even without a case, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

You laugh a little. “That sounds like her.” 

“She wasn't always like this, you know.” His voice takes on something a little more pensive, and you settle deeper into your seat to let him know you’re listening, even if your eyes hardly stray from the road. “We had a ridiculous amount of fun together when we were younger - first married, I was fresh out of law school, everything ahead of us, and all that.” He heaves a sigh. “It’s really only since Jack was born that things got...bad.”

He pauses, thinking for a moment. “I wish I could explain the work to her - I sometimes wish she could see it, even though I never actually want her to see the things we see every day.”

You keep your voice light, understanding. “I get that. It can’t be easy knowing that we’re your family, too, and even that’s difficult to explain.” 

There’s silence, and you know there’s a tacit agreement in it. 

His next comment comes a little from left field, but it makes you smile. “She likes you, by the way. She really does.” 

“Good.” You glance over at him. “I’m glad.” 

There’s something he wants to say, and you raise your eyebrows expectantly, knowing he can see it in your profile. 

“Would you want to come over sometime and spend some time with Jack? I -” he exhales, and tries again. “It’s sometimes...weird to have him all to myself.” He laughs a little. “I almost don’t know what to do with him all day when it’s just the two of us.” 

A real smile breaks across your face. “I’d love to.” 

He nods, satisfied with himself. “It’ll be nice for Haley to see you as well. I know she feels a little cut off these days.” 

“Understandable.” 

Another bout of silence fills the car. It’s comfortable. Safe. 

“Thank you,” he says, after a long while. 

You look over, letting your eyes wander down his profile for a moment. “Of course.” 

+++

You stay at a little motel off the highway, pulling over after about four hours on the road. It’s only a little ways back to Fairfax, where you’ll drop him off at home before returning the car to Quantico, but Rossi’s right - it’s nice to take some time. 

In two separate double beds across the room from each other, you wish each other good night in the dark. 

+++

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[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

The Sound of Your Voice

doing this thing | day 30 - mutual masturbation

I had to change the prompt for today because it turns out I had marking on the list twice. Also, it’s late (sorry) because my brain was empty until late last night and then I got v carried away with this one. 

Jaskier throws himself onto the bed, sighing happily as he shuts his eyes and Geralt forces back a smile as he sets his things down at the end of his own bed. For once, they haven't been travelling long between inns, but it's been a long day and Geralt at least is happy for a comfortable bed and a decent meal - and some time to himself while Jaskier inevitably finds some other bed to warm. It may not have been a long time on the road, but Geralt's patience has been tested with every moment of it.

The weather is beginning to turn and Jaskier, constantly walking and no temperature regulation to speak of, has taken to removing his doublet most days and pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. On occasion, he's threatened to remove his shirt altogether and, although it had been a throwaway comment, Geralt had nearly toppled right off Roach and into the stream they'd been following.

It's not as though this is a new habit, he's been doing it for years but this spring is... worse. This spring Geralt is dealing with a rather frustrating realization that he does, in fact, quite like having Jaskier around - to the point where he was miserable for most of the winter without him, wondering what he was doing and who he was with back in Oxenfurt. Eskel had just given him a knowing look, but Lambert had wandered around the keep telling anyone who would listen (Geralt) about it every five seconds.

Geralt doesn't think often about things like love. The closest he ever got was with Yen and that was... a train wreck, in the end. But he's been thinking about it a lot lately and as he looks across the room to where Jaskier is basking in a ray of sunlight, he thinks if he did love anyone, it might be him.

"Well," Jaskier chirps, sitting up with his feet on the floor, "I think I'm gonna head downstairs. Will you be joining me?"

"Not tonight, I don't think."

"Alright then, darling, enjoy your rest. Should I come collect you for supper?"

"No. Thank you. I'll be fine."

Jaskier flashes him a warm smile and crosses the room, slipping through the door with a final little wave to Geralt. Geralt hums to himself as he strips away his armour, piling it neatly on the floor. The work is mindless after so much practice and as he goes, Geralt thinks about Jaskier. He's probably starting his set about now, grinning out at the crowd and working them up with his charm. All the better Geralt is up here and not down there with him.

When Jaskier performs, he puts on a show, flirting with everyone in the room without a single word. He dances and slips through the crowd, pressing up close when he can and winking at those who stumble into his orbit. Although, Geralt has learned it's rarely an accident that people end up in Jaskier's presence.

They don't realize it's all a show, they don't know what Jaskier is like under it all and, Geralt suspects, they don't care to. They want their moment in the sun, they want their night in his bed or with him in theirs, but nothing more than that. It's part of the reason Geralt doesn't mind the constant flirting. He can't ask Jaskier to love him back, but he knows that no matter whose bed Jaskier winds up in, he always returns to him.

Beneath his feet, the music starts and Geralt's lips twitch up into a soft smile. Tugging off his boots, he climbs up onto his bed and lays down on his back, shutting his eyes. He'd much rather listen to Jaskier's performance up here where he can enjoy it without having to worry about anything else. Jaskier has a terrible effect on him most of the time, but when he's performing, when he's and sweaty and he's got his doublet undone and his shirt unlaced- Geralt groans at the thought of it.

And when he gets hot, his shirt clings to his chest, clearly defining the musculature he so often has to avert his eyes from. And oh the way he smiles when he catches Geralt watching him, like nothing in the world could make him happier than catching Geralt's attention. It's intoxicating and Geralt is weak against it. Even now just thinking about it, his body heats and his cock stirs.

He settles in, resting a hand on his hip as he gets comfortable. From his bed, he can perfectly hear Jaskier below him, can picture each of Jaskier's movements by the inflection in his voice. He hadn't realized how well he knew Jaskier's performance, but somehow it doesn't surprise him.

His fingers twitch and he focuses on the sound of Jaskier's voice, aware of the way his cock twitches at the sound of him. He's alone for a while, Jaskier has only just started his set; he has time now and he could just listen to him, there's no harm in listening. As his fingers drift, slipping closer to the growing bulge in his trousers, Geralt assures himself that he's not the only one who's ever gotten off thinking about him. He can smell the arousal in the air every time as men and women alike are drawn in by Jaskier's display.

Geralt presses the hell of his hand against his crotch as below him, Jaskier finishes one song and begins another. This one is faster, too raunchy for respectable crowds, but the guests seem to enjoy it and, although he'd never admit it, it's one of Geralt's favourites. It also gets him worked up quicker than anything. He has no intention of telling Jaskier that either.

He spreads his fingers down over the swell of his cock, cupping the base of it and dragging his fingers up the length of it. Pleasure zips through him and his eyelids flutter. It's been too long since he's had any sort of relief and it's starting to show; three times today, he tripped over something because he was too focused on the way Jaskier's shirt was plastered to his back or the way his muscles shifted beneath it.

But now he has time. When they're on the road, camping wherever they can find shelter, he doesn't get a chance to take things slow and really enjoy it, at best he gets a quick wank in the woods while pretending to gather firewood. So far, Jaskier hasn't caught on, but it's only a matter of time before he starts to wonder what's taking him so long. Not that it does take him that long, not with Jaskier's scent still close and tinged with sweat and the sweetness of arousal that clings to him near constantly.

His cock jumps under his fingers and Geralt groans. If he's not careful, he won't last long tonight either. He's fully hard now, his cock pressing up against the front of his trousers and he wraps his fingers around himself , stroking firmly through the thick fabric. He bites down on his lip, an instinctive response brought on by years of travelling with a companion and his hips shift, pushing up against his palm.

Stupidly, he lets his mind wander, imagining Jaskier's fingers wrapped around him without the barrier of fabric between. Jaskier is always so focused and considerate with his lovers, so fully attuned to them and worried more about their pleasure than his own. Geralt knows if they ever made it to bed together, Jaskier would be the same with him, regardless of how much Geralt might try to turn the tables on him.

And he could easily overpower him, press Jaskier down into the bed and prove his affection, kissing it into every inch of his skin until Jaskier shakes beneath him. Fuck. The thought along makes his cock throb and he wants to shove a hand down his trousers and jerk himself hard, but he knows Jaskier will return to their room, if only for a moment to put his things away, and he can't let him find him like this.

Abruptly, the music from below stops and Geralt's hand freezes where it's drifted to the buttons on his trousers. He hadn't realized how long he'd been daydreaming and Jaskier's finished his set and he'll be upstairs soon. But then, he hears Jaskier's laugh ring through over the crowd and a softer, lilting voice respond. Jaskier has found someone for the night. Geralt doesn't listen to their conversation, but he catches of course, darling, right away. So Jaskier won't be coming back to their room, which means he's free to do whatever he pleases.

Gods, but he knows Jaskier is heading back to someone's room right now and he wishes it was theirs, wishes that he was the one Jaskier was hoping to jump into bed with. He unbuttons his trousers and slips a hand inside, wrapping around himself as he imagines Jaskier climbing into his bed in the middle of the night. He has nightmares sometimes, the thought isn't even that far-fetched, only this time, Jaskier doesn't curl up against him and sleep. This time, he presses his nose into Geralt's neck, slides a hand down his chest and there's no way he could help himself in that position, he'd be hard before Jaskier ever reached his cock.

And oh how Jaskier would make him sing. He's good with his hands, and Geralt would know after all the hours spent watching them. Jaskier would bring him right up to the edge in no time, but he'd make him wait because he'd want it to last. And Geralt would whimper and whine and ache for him, but he wants it to last just as much.

Geralt's cock throbs against his palm and he arches off the bed with a groan. Without Jaskier's voice to ground him, he feels wild and he bucks up into his hand, careful not to think about where Jaskier is or what he's doing.

There's a creak outside the room, but he doesn't think anything of it. Jaskier's performance is over, people will be heading up to their rooms for the evening now. Some will stay behind, but what's the point when the beautiful bard is gone? Geralt doesn't blame them; he's just as bad. He slips his thumb over the head of his cock and has to bite his lip again to muffle a moan, all thoughts of the outside world banished by the rush of pleasure.

There's a soft gasp from somewhere far too close and Geralt's eyes flash open, searching the room. Jaskier is standing at the foot of his bed, flushed a rather pretty shade of pink, and shifting uncomfortably. Geralt is about to apologize when he catches the scent of him, thick and sickly-sweet and when his eyes drop, the bulge in Jaskier's trousers only confirms his arousal.

Geralt releases his cock, shifting further up the bed and beckoning Jaskier closer with a single finger. To his shock and delight, Jaskier's eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself in his rush to get onto the bed. Jaskier settles on his knees between Geralt's ankles doing his best to keep from staring at his cock but his focus keeps slipping and each time it does, Geralt throbs under the attention. He doesn't quite know what to do with this. He supposes he should say something.

"I thought you'd found someone to spend the night with," he mutters, his voice thick with arousal and disuse.

"You were listening?" Jaskier asks. He doesn't sound upset, just intrigued, and Geralt takes that as a good sign.

"To your music," Geralt clarifies and Jaskier's eyes go wide again. His pupils are blown wide, so dark Geralt could lose himself in them, but then Jaskier opens his mouth again.

"Were you listening to me while- Geralt, were you getting off listening to me?" There's nowhere to hide, here. Jaskier just walked in on him with his cock in his hand and he all but admitted to it already.

"Yeah," he breathes and a quiet whine escapes Jaskier's lips.

"Fuck, that's- do you do this often?" Jaskier's hand slips between his thighs and Geralt barely holds back a groan.

"No. I usually come down to watch." Jaskier's mouth drops open, but it's too late to change what he said, now.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks, shifting closer so his knees bump the insides of Geralt's thighs. "Does it... turn you on to listen to me perform?" He could easily say no, lie about it and say something else got him hard, but Jaskier is sitting between his legs doing absolutely nothing to hide his own erection, so why would he bother? Jaskier likes this and Geralt isn't going to do anything as stupid as let him think he doesn't.

"Yeah," he reaches out, brushing his fingers down Jaskier's arm - the one not currently rubbing himself through his trousers. "I think about you sometimes, too." That much is a lie, but only just. He thinks about him almost every time because he rarely finds himself so desperate unless he's already thinking about Jaskier.

"Fuck." Jaskier squeezes himself through his trousers and Geralt's eyes drop to follow the motion. He wants to tell him that it's okay, that he wants to see him touch himself, but the words won't come. He seems to get it.

Geralt watches, transfixed, as Jaskier fumbles with the clasps on his trousers. He watches as his hand disappears inside, wrapping around himself and pulling his cock free and his skin tingles watching him. He's so focused on Jaskier's cock, on the way it slips between his fingers and the soft little sounds he makes when it does. He doesn't even realize he's rubbing himself again until Jaskier lets out a little groan and Geralt's eyes snap up to find him watching.

"You're gorgeous," Jaskier breathes. Geralt isn't sure he's supposed to hear it, exactly, but he lets his fingers slip down Jaskier's arm, trailing down the inside of his thigh. "Just look at you." He strokes himself a little quicker, rolling his hips onto the touch and Geralt has to wonder for a moment if he's not dreaming.

He watches the way Jaskier's hand moves over his cock, slowing down to squeeze around the head with every stroke and he commits it to memory. If he's ever in a place to touch him, he wants to be able to do it right, to give Jaskier exactly what he likes. But what he likes, apparently, is not so complicated as that.

Geralt's finger slip under the head of his cock and a moan escapes his lips before he can bit it back, but the way Jaskier's hips stutter makes it hard to regret it.

"You like that?" he asks and Jaskier lets out a breathless chuckle, sitting back on his heels.

"I like everything about you," he breathes, catching Geralt's gaze as he shrugs out of his doublet and gets a hand on himself again.

Like this, Geralt's view of his cock is perfect and Jaskier looks incredible like this. He's still sweaty from performing, and there's a dark flush in his chest that creeps all the way down. Geralt's hips jerk as he thinks about tugging Jaskier's shirt over his head. He wouldn't need it anyway and Geralt would give anything to get his hands on him, to run his fingers through the thick thatch of hair.

Geralt groans and shifts up the bed, readjusting himself to lean against the wall. Jaskier follows. He climbs up over him, straddling Geralt's thighs and settling himself in his lap. From here, Geralt can feel the heat radiating from him and he aches to reach out and touch him, to wrap his fingers around the curve of his pick and bring him off himself. His own cock twitches at the thought and he squeezes hard, sliding up to the head.

Without thinking, he reaches out, curling a hand around the back of Jaskier's head and bringing him closer. Jaskier whimpers as their lips brush, but as soon as Geralt's lips part, he presses into it, arching against him so their cocks slip against each other. The moan that slips from Geralt's lips is lost, but Jaskier presses forward, intentionally rocking his hips against him as he kisses him deeply.

He can't help himself, not with Jaskier pressed against him, teeth dragging along his lip. He tugs at Jaskier's shirt, easily freeing it from his trousers, and brings it up over his head, breaking the kiss for only a moment to rid him of the offending material completely. Jaskier only hums and reaches up to cup Geralt's face with one hand as he deepens the kiss again, slipping his tongue between Geralt's lips.

Their cocks slip against each other disjointedly, but Geralt is too preoccupied with the expanse of skin as his fingertips to care too much about finesse. He runs his hands over Jaskier's chest, letting his thumbs press just a little firmer over his nipples. The responding gasp against his mouth is intoxicating and he does it again, this time slipping one hand lower to wrap around his cock.

He finds where they meet and takes them both in hand, moaning as Jaskier's cock jumps at the touch. He's already been close for so long now, he's afraid he won't last, but then Jaskier breaks away, pressing his face into Geralt's chest with a groan.

"Oh," he breathes, "careful, love, you'll make me come like that." The words hit Geralt like a wave, knocking into him and setting him off balance, but he can't resist teasing just a little.

"I thought you were a renowned lover," he whispers, pressing his lips to Jaskier's jaw and working his way down. He flicks his eyes up to Jaskier's as he reaches his chin. "Are you gonna come so soon?" Jaskier's eyes fall shut and his breathing is uneven.

"If you don't stop talking I'm gonna come even sooner than that. Do you have any idea what you do to me? What the fact that you get off to my voice does to me? Fuck Geralt, with a confession like that you're lucky I didn't come in my trousers." That image settles itself in Geralt's subconscious and he groans as he hauls Jaskier's mouth against his own again.

He wants to make him come, wants to see the look in his eyes as he tips over the edge and know he's the one who did that. Jaskier meets him thrust for thrust, pressing so close that Geralt has to pull his hand away. He wraps his arms around Jaskier's waist instead, panting against his mouth as they rock in tandem. Their movements are uneven and jerky but fuck if it doesn't feel good and it's barely two minutes before Geralt can feel his orgasm approaching. He pulls from Jaskier's mouth, resting his forehead on his shoulder.

"I'm gonna come," he pants and Jaskier's hand slips from his neck up into his hair.

"Please, love," he whispers, "come for me."

That's all it takes before he's spiralling, spilling hot and wet between them as Jaskier continues rutting against him. His head is foggy with lust, but he manages to find Jaskier's mouth, kissing him hard as he rides the high of it.

When his heart finally returns to a steady beat and he can hear past the blood rushing in his ears, he opens his eyes and finds Jaskier looking back at him, the same dopey expression on his face.

"You've been holding out on me," he teases, kissing a line down Geralt's neck. Geralt's still coming back to himself, but he shuts his eyes and leans into it.

"Did you come?" he asks and Jaskier hums against his skin.

"So hard I thought I'd pass out. You have no idea what you do to a man, do you?"

"In my defence," Geralt mumbles, "you never told me."

"Well, I'm telling you now." Jaskier's thighs shake as he lifts himself from Geralt's lap and as he flops down next to him, Geralt curls an arm around his waist, pulling him close. Jaskier smiles as he looks up at him. "You make me crazy, Geralt." He runs a hand through Geralt's hair and tips up to kiss him slow and soft

He's still wearing his boots so Geralt bends, tugging each of them off in turn and tossing them on the floor. Jaskier gives a little grunt of indignance but Geralt wraps both arms around him and deepens the kiss and that seems to satisfy him. But when he pulls him closer, Jaskier squirms.

"Sleep," Geralt mumbles, his mind already slipping. Jaskier huffs a laugh and tugs at his shirt.

"At least get out of this." Reluctantly, Geralt detangles himself from Jaskier's arms, pulling the shirt up over his head. It falls to the floor with Jaskier's boots and he turns back, pressing back into Jaskier's embrace.

"Happy?"

"Very," Jaskier hums, "I do just have one question about all of this."

"Hmm?"

"Is this just a sex thing, or-"

Geralt's mind immediately jumps back to watching Jaskier lying in this sun earlier this afternoon. HE smiles and presses his nose against Jaskier's.

"No, it's not." Jaskier sighs happily and tucks his chin under Geralt's, pressing kisses against his throat.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to hear you tell me no."

[tundrainafrica]

Note: Instead of posting a meta or a fic today, allow me to take a quick break from that because I think I really need to appreciate some people here and the fandom overall.  

February 7, 2021. 

Today, I turned 24 and my boyfriend surprised me with a gift I think I’ll be taking to heart for a very long time. 

The story behind the gift was as precious (or even more precious) as the gift itself and I thought I’d share it since it turned out some content creators were involved in this gift and I very much want to express how much this gift has defined this day for me and will place my 24th birthday as one of those birthdays I don’t think I’ll ever forget. 

Apparently, I had casually dropped both my tumblr and my ao3 account during one of our conversations and somewhere around November he had started looking through my bookmarks, my posts on tumblr and some of my interactions with people in the fandom.

I should have seen it coming. It had started with my boyfriend suddenly asking about my hyperfixation with Levihan.

Sav? Shipping? Sav? Binge reading ships and meta posts? Sav? Gushing about a fictional ship?

And I remember gushing about this with my seemingly uninterested boyfriend a long night after explaining what was oddly the most out of character thing for someone like me. 

I was sharing with him my metas and hcs and maybe, I was dropping a few of my favorite quotes along the way and it turned out he was interested. Suddenly he was asking me about my favorite fics, my favorite scenes. Suddenly, he was rereading my favorite fics with me and a few times, he was quoting those same scenes. I did find out he was looking through my blog when I got a random message from a really sketchy tumblr telling me to open my facebook. 

I suspected a few times that he could be planning something. December passed with nothing and eventually he stopped asking so I clocked that as a fevered dream or unnecessary assuming on my end and didn’t think too much of it after. 

It turned out my boyfriend had messaged my favorite authors about their fics and he commissioned one of my favorite artists (if not my favorite) to draw a few photos and bound them into a Levihan Anthology 

And it feels fucking amazing to receive something like this. To get Levihan which helped me through the worst of 2020, bound forever as a book I can just open up and read anytime. And I guess tearing up at receiving such a gift had me thinking of a lot of things at once (which were always at the back of mind) but I thought of sharing now. 

The past year wasn’t easy. Actually. don’t think it’s an understatement to say this past year was dog shit. With the covid pandemic and all plans after that cancelled, I’m sure we can all agree we had our ups and downs. 

I had a lot of my own plans completely thrown out the window for numerous reasons. I had plans of going to law school part time while building a career. And, I got a job right after college to make these plans come true. In September the law school I got accepted to (after working so damn hard the past year to get accepted) denied my appeal for night classes. I decided to drop my enrollment to focus on my career. A week later, my job laid me off. 

And for once in my life, I wasn’t going anywhere. And I lived in a house where everyone was always doing something and as soon as I lost my job I was pressured to find another one. But as we all know, searching for a job during this pandemic isn’t easy. I was still reeling after having dropped my enrollment just to focus on my job only to lose that job the week after with no prior notice. Everyone around me was busy doing their own thing. I had no one to talk to and for a while, I was falling into this pit of depression. 

My days consisted of me hiding under the covers of my bed in between the few interviews I would take day to day. Around that time, I decided to binge watch Attack on Titan as well 

I was never one to get hyper fixated in ships. In fact, this was the first ship since Royai and Victuuri which I have been so passionate. And this is a whole new level of passion. I think this is the first time I’ve ever written so much in this small amount of time. It was slow going. Just like Levi and Hange’s relationship, my fixation with this ship was a slowburn. 

Those days alone, I was reading fanfiction by the bundle, I was scrolling through the Levihan tag like a simp, leaving kudos in ao3 on a throwaway account and just scrolling through random people’s tumblr accounts. 

What happened during the one month? And when I was alone, sad, lonely and stagnant with no one to talk to, when everyone around me was living their own lives, all I had alone in the bedroom was Levi and Hange’s stories to keep me company between interviews. 

And the meta analyses and headcanons I had about their relationship were teaching me things. They were teaching me that life was never about how quickly you progress or how far you go. Maybe the real winners in life are the ones who can build good relationships, build relationships so mutually satisfying they keep each other growing and in those few moments reading, headcanoning ships, I did realize, maybe even as stagnant as I was at that moment, my life wasn’t dogshit. 

No one’s life is dogshit for a few small bumps along the way. Sometimes it just is part of the process of growing, learning to get past the worse, learning to manage relationships. And maybe it’s these relationships which make life worth living. Maybe it’s these struggles depicted in these stories and the bounce back. Maybe it’s the love, the life, the emotions so carefully described and depicted in every single story which makes life, life. 

With every single fic I read and every single fan art I scrolled through. Levihan was teaching my things about love, loss and life. 

Sometimes, these fandoms are the things which can catch people before they fall too low into something. These works and stories authors and artists shared so generously were what pulled me out of this state and are what inspired me to explore this relationship for all the potential its worth and maybe share my own stories and headcanons which people may learn a thing or two from or maybe just find some comfort and hope in.  

And these inspirations eventually evolved to writing. Writing 10,000 words in a day in between three interviews? I never was a writer but somehow, I found myself spending hours exploring the themes of love, loss and life with our favorite pairing 

I didn’t start writing out of nowhere. I didn’t start making metas out of nowhere. I needed the right inspiration, the right content to get me into this point where I could continue writing, reading, meta-ing, appreciating, headcanoning and everything in between.

And I just wanted to express my gratefulness to every single person in the fandom who had made it possible for me to pull out of that blackhole. Fandoms are underrated and I believe there are so many lessons which can be learned from the right content and from the right people. 

To the people who so willingly went along with my boyfriend’s little project: 

@faerielleart​ I saved A LOT of your art and they’re sitting in my google photos under a folder called Levihan and maybe I did share a few of your photos (the cheeks one and the beast titan one and the les miserables) ones to my boyfriend unsolicited just to show him how beautiful Levihan can be. Thank you so much for these beautiful drawings.

@lizaloveslevihan​ You were one of the first people I talked with in this fandom and dreams really was one of those stories that fucked me up a little bit, had me make a few misses on the commute on the way home one day but maybe it did have me explore the angst genre a little more, maybe it did have me explore Levi’s character a little more. 

@ariadneamare​ YELLOW. OH GOD. You know those letters? The ones which Hange left Levi at the end of the story? I ended up copying and pasting them and sending them to my boyfriend right after reading and I remember talking to him about this. We might be facing that same type of story in the future and I guess that ended up becoming a lot of foundation of our discussion and I guess, it’s just proof that there is so much to learn from fanfiction. There’s just so much to explore and fanfiction as a genre just does not get the credit it deserves.

@fanmoose12​​ I was exploring your works even before I started this tumblr up again. Maybe it was even your works which got me building my own headcanons from Levihan and writing from there. And I think I did leave a few anonymous messages telling you how I started exploring other genres because of your fics. Your works got my out of my dark place, it got me exploring a lot of other genres and for that I’m eternally grateful.

And somehow, my boyfriend picked that all up from late night discussions and one-on-one metas. Surprisingly, he wasn’t just playing along to humor his girlfriend. He was exploring the themes of love, life, loss and Levihan right along with me. (And got spoiled about Hange’s death along the way… Oops.) 

And I am eternally grateful for that and I made sure to shower him with a lot of kisses after he kept me in the loop with what has been going on these past few months with his sudden interest in Levihan.

And this huge thank you goes out to all content creators (authors, artists, gif creators, shitposters alike). Sometimes you never know who’s thinking about your work, who’s shoehorning your works and quoting them to their best friends. Sometimes, you never will find out but your work had pulled someone out of a blackhole which they’ve been stuck in and sometimes you never know that your work has been that seemingly small thing that had taught them a lesson in love, life or relationships. Sometimes, that one work turned out to be an inspiration which got them writing and sharing their own stories or making their own drawings

And I guess, the point is, keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing pouring your love, passion and emotions into works of art because you never really know whose heart you touched or whose life you changed.

I have a job now. I decided to push law school a few years back and maybe take the time to work on myself now and maybe spend the next months or maybe years writing metas and fanfictions. I was pulled out of my hole. I was inspired. I have my own stories to tell and I don’t think I would have been here if I hadn’t spent the last few months reading fic after fic, meta after meta, appreciating art after art, 

So anyway, I just wanted to share some pics of my favortie fics, immortalized in one anthology, all organized by my boyfriend. And I think he made some great decisions with these.

(Bookbinding credits to @mayerwien)

[solohux]

happy 2021! i really hope we all have a better year this year but for now, here’s a list of my favourite kylo/hux fics that were published in 2020, ones that got me through days of lonliness and sadness to make me smile ✧

thank you fic writers of the kylux fandom! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

- keep in the dark (to stay out of the light) by howlingshame Modern AU. Smuggler Kylo Ren runs afoul of Armitage Hux, head of the First Order crime ring. Instead of killing him outright, Hux decides to keep him for his own instead. Kylo is none too thrilled with the situation, but Hux has plenty of patience. He wants Kylo to be his in every sense of the word, and they've got all the time in the world. [E, 247k words, warnings for violence, stockholm syndrome, sub kylo & dom hux]

- Please Remember I Love You by @bumblebae8 After murdering Snoke, Kylo Ren flees alongside Rey, returning to the Reistance and to his mother after ten years. They at once begin strategizing on how to take down the corrupt and evil First Order. [M, 65k words, no warnings, redeemed ben, skywalker family drama]

- Children of War by @starryartemis​ After a complicated diplomatic mission went awry, General Hux and Kylo Ren accidentally find themselves tasked with their most difficult mission: becoming parents. Despite their complex relationship, they both agree that raising an offspring will help bring glory to the First Order. Their original vision of a united family quickly falls apart as Hux and Ren cannot see eye to eye in what they want the future to hold. [E, 162k words, warnings for violence, kylux science babies, slow burn]

- I Should Live in Salt for Leaving You Behind by Asrael_Valtiri Of course, he’d betrayed Ren, to save the Order. To save himself and his people.To try to save Ren, in a way.Strange, Hux thought, closing his eyes against the glare of the overhead lighting. He pretended that the wetness escaping the corner of his eye was from the brightness. He failed.Stupid, he amended. Stupid, Armitage. [E, 65k words, no warnings, a TROS fix-it, kylo clones]

- Against All Odds by Kittens              Kylo really doesn't care for people, but he'll always help an animal in need. When he sees a dog covered in mud on a cold, rainy day, he can't help but try to help. What he didn't expect was for the dog to be a fox and the fox to be a man. [E, 49k words, warnings for violence, modern au, fox hux]

- Hadopelagic by DustOnBothSides [WIP] After a life of staying pharmaceutically heat-free, Hux has to allow his body to go through at least one natural cycle, lest there be consequences. He takes a shore leave and travels to a former omegan retreat, abandoned and all but forgotten after the fall of Old Republic. Ren, not knowing of Hux's predicament, decides to follow, suspecting treason. He finds something else instead. [E, 33k words, omega hux & alpha kylo]

- Sup From My Mouth by @atlinmerrick​ [Kylux Adjacent] Dolly Oblonskaya never precisely introduces her old friend to her children’s new tutor, no. She does put one lonely man in a room with the other again and again and again...and to her delight Konstantin Levin and Francisco Garupe take care of the rest. Or, this is the story of how an idealistic young Russian aristocrat helps heal a mourning young Jesuit priest, one very cold Moscow winter. [E, 58k words, no warnings, Fransisco Garupe/Konstantin Levin]

- Lighting the Fuse by hey_honey "What is going on?" Phasma asked when Hux returned from his meeting with Leia looking pale. He stared at her. "The Queen's son agreed to marry a First Order official on one condition," he said. "And?" Phasma encouraged. "That official has to be me," he said. [E, 30k words, no warnings, omega ben & alpha armitage, mpreg, ben is ruler of naboo]

- Across the Stars, I am Home by @venetumdrabbler [WIP] Before leaving to go undercover in the First Order, Armitage Hux had made promises. Keep an eye and report when able to the republic, and later the resistance. Keep tabs on the dark force user Snoke. And most important of all: Bring Ben Solo home. So far Hux had managed, or was managing, 2 out 3. Then there is an awakening. [M, 42k words, no warnings, jedi armitage au, slow burn]

- Pro Nobis Solum by CarelessHux (AraSigyrn)     Kylo Ren wakes after Starkiller.  Alone. [M, 8k words, no warnings, post tfa au, established relationship]

- sisyphus rolls his boulder to the top by yogurtgun     While trying to convince Rey to turn to the Dark on the Steadfast, Kylo feels Hux's presence in the Force disappear. [T, 6.7k words, warnings for violence, tros fix-it, temporary character death]

- i can make your dreams come by claquesous It feels like the small hours of the morning, the blurry in-between Hux calls early and Kylo calls late. “Can’t even make it through the night without a pillow to hump, can you?” Hux sneers. [E, 3k words, no warnings, somnophilia, sub kylo & dom hux]

- Knot Finished by Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi  Kylo learns a bit more about Arkanis physiology through practical demonstrations. [E, 2k words, no warnings, hux is alien, top hux & bottom kylo]

- 90 Day Fiancé by @bostarsky​ & @sunnywritesstuff​ “Maybe that means you’ll be more inclined to choose me,” Hux hints, glancing over at a drone buzzing by with a sneaky look on his face. Perfect, he’ll create as much support for himself with the public as possible. "What I choose doesn’t matter,” he croons, making it sound as romantic as he possibly can to hide the true meaning of the words. [E, 38.5k words, no warnings, alpha hux & omega kylo, kylo amidala, creepy snoke]

- What if We Tried Again? by @penpenhooray​ Perhaps, but did Pryde bother to check if he was actually dead?Armitage Hux may be many things, but a fool was not one of them. So rather than stay with the First Order and watch it burn, Hux decides that faking his death would be preferable, leaving him free to tie up his one loose end. His ex-husband, Kylo Ren. But what happens when Ren...isn't quite Ren anymore, but just as "dead" as Hux? What happens if they face their feelings surrounding their failed marriage? What if they dared to try again? [T, 2.7k words, no warnings, tros fix-it, mpreg & miscarriage]

- Where Do You Go When You're Lonely? by @vadianna​ Fresh off a grueling undercover mission on an unpleasant Outer Rim planet, Kylo Ren wants to eat, drink, and sleep. Unfortunately, Hux is sitting at the only bar in the area. Thinking that Hux is there to brief him, Kylo soon realizes that Hux is off-duty, and has also never seen him without his helmet on.  Things escalate, and the two wind up finishing Kylo's mission together as they both get to know each other. [E, 29.3k words, no warnings, false identity, bottom kylo & top hux]

- Team Hux or Team Ren? by AdamJensens General Hux overhears a conversation between stormtroopers that opens his eyes to a competition between the troops of the First Order. He discovers his subordinates are not only loyal and devoted but also obsessed – Hux has fans. So does Kylo Ren, and there's a kind of war going on between the two groups calling themselves Team Hux and Team Ren. What Hux doesn't know yet is that there's a third group solely focused on shipping the two co–commanders. There's fanfiction, fanart and all kinds of crazy theories. Shipping, as Hux will soon discover, is a serious business. [E, 11.5k words, no warnings, crack treated seriously, mutual pining]

- Under Covers of Darkness by Camellia Cook (thekurosakiconundrum) Alpha twins Ben and Kylo have a somewhat unusual arrangement with their mate Hux: they're together, all three of them, and it's not strictly a Hux-in-the-middle situation. [E, 3.3k words, no warnings, threesome, sibling incest alpha ben & alpha kylo & omega hux]

- Share the Load by @emperorsvornskr​ Hux runs into Kylo while dealing with his unique Arkanan biology- and Kylo is dealing with some self confidence issues. It's a match tailor made for the both of them. [E, 6.1k words, no warnings, alien armitage hux, trans kylo, eggs]

- Safety in his arms by @redcole​ Kylo knows it's time to bond with Hux, he just wants to make sure that his intentions are clear. After all, it isn't often that an omega courts an alpha. [M, 3.2k words, no warnings, omega kylo & alpha hux, mpreg]

- Horny Hearts by @rattlesnake777​ [Kylux Adjacent] Techie has a new flatmate called Matt and all he can really think about is doing it with him... [E, 18.3k words, no warnings, Clan Techie/Matt The Radar Tech, modern au, misunderstandings]

- Collars and Kisses by koi_boi Kylo loves his little fox and has missed him dearly after a long mission away. Hux, not so much, or so Kylo thinks. Then he actually thinks for once and comes to A Realization™. They fuck, they cuddle, then they get soft and tender. Disgusting. [E, 3.4k, no warnings, fox hux, fluff & smut, dom kylo & sub hux]

- the chancellor's gift by @thethespacecoyote​ Supreme Leader Kylo Ren goes on a mission to retrieve something invaluable for his lightsaber-obsessed chancellor. However, his plans for presenting the treasure to Hux are unfortunately derailed when a group of insurgents kidnap the chancellor and hold him hostage, threatening both Hux's life, and the life of their unborn pup. It seems, even years into their reign, that there are still enemies foolish enough to try to take from Kylo what's his. [M, 5.3k words, warnings for violence, alpha kylo & omega hux, mpreg, protective kylo]

- Entrapped by @kyluxtrashpit​ While searching for a mysterious Force artifact for Snoke, a squadron of Stormtroopers goes missing. Kylo insists on going out alone then, certain he can find and face down whatever might have killed them and succeed in getting the artifact. The creature responsible, however, has other plans for him. [E, 3.4k words, rape/noncon, tentacle sex, protective hux]

- Your Chain Around My Neck by @bastila-s​ After the council meeting about the Sith fleet, Kylo asks Hux to stay behind and "prove" he isn't a spy. [E, 3.6k words, no warnings but dubcon tag, power dynamics, smut, dom kylo & sub hux]

- Regret by @abraxas-drake​ Kylo tries to get Hux to relax under the guise of a work discussion. When things go terribly wrong, Hux must rely on the new Supreme Leader to save his life. [E, 3.8k words, warnings for violence and threats of noncon, alpha kylo & omega hux, protective kylo, forced into heat]

- Invasion by sigo Hux was seated at the long durasteel table in the Steadfast’s largest conference room, Enric Pryde on his left and Mitaka presenting his findings to the group standing on his right, when he felt it: Ren’s hands on his chest, running hot down his skin below his uniform. [E, 2.9k words, no warnings, pwp, bottom hux & top kylo, force sex, semi-public sex]

- In His Grasp by @cosleia​ Kylo Ren doesn't understand why General Hux is shirking his duty over a simple injury. When he tries to find out, though, he learns more than he bargained for...about the general, and about himself. [M, 4.1k words, post-tlj, pining, hand-feeding]

- Heat Sink by @sparrows-trashcan​ Kylo Ren is an omega but so is General Hux. While Hux doesn't mind everyone knowing that his preference is limited to male omegas Kylo Ren is shamed to feel the same. Everything changes after the Starkiller incident: Kylo Ren is in heat and there is only one person on the Finalizer who could possibly help him... [E, 4.2k words, no warnings, omega hux & omega kylo, smut]

- Distraction by @kyluxtrashpit​ Kylo needs a distraction from his hopeless pining over his co-commander, who he's sure he can never have. So he turns to the Knights of Ren to keep his mind - and body - busy. When Hux walks in on the events, however, Kylo learns that perhaps his feelings aren't a lost cause after all. [E, 3.6k words, no warnings, kylo/knights of ren, group sex]

- Between the Stars by Kittens The Finalizer's medical team does not want to deal with Kylo Ren. When he ends up injured during a mission, it's up to Hux to take care of him. It's not exactly what Hux is good at, but for Kylo it means everything. [T, 3.9k words, no warnings, hurt/comfort, bathing]

- Switch Up, Love Eternal by @onewhositswiththeturtles​ When Ren damages consoles aboard the Finalizer during a tantrum, Hux summons him for some much-deserved discipline. Perhaps there would be some hope for Ren learning the error of his ways if he wasn't such a whore for punishment. [E, 3.4k words, no warnings, dom/sub switching, smut]

- Across the Stars (To Find You) by Lady_Faulkner While on a mission for Snoke, Kylo Ren gets kidnapped by pirates and it's up to General Hux to track him down and rescue him before he's sold on the black market. Along the way, Hux discovers that his feelings of hatred for Kylo Ren have been masking another emotion altogether. [E, 10.9k, no warnings, kidnapping, hurt kylo]

- Doom's Desire by @nerdherderette​ Hux never expected to find a jewel worthy of the Empire's crown in an Outer Rim desert wasteland. [E, 10.3k words, no warnings, canon au, gladiator fighter kylo, emperor hux]

- Empire Day Miracle by coldashes         Kylo just wants to relax, to be surrounded by people is to be surrounded by the Force. Except this is the First Order's Empire Day officer party and things never go as well as one would hope. [E, 4.4k words, no warnings, pwp, identity mistakes, pre-tfa]

- Reptile Husbandry by koi_boi Hux is an accomplished researcher who's having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time in the field. He stumbles into a cave filled with secrets and one very large, very curious snake. Hux gets fucked in more ways than one. [E, 13.4k words, no warnings, modern/fantasy au, naga kylo & researcher hux, smut]

- Utapaun Christening by @mcducklet-blog​ Kylo Ren is determined to ensure that his children are the strongest creatures in the galaxy. Armitage Hux is willing to go along with it.Neither of them is ready for what that entails. [T, 6.6k words, no warnings, mpreg, knights of ren, peril]

- so it goes by @msbyjckals​ [WIP] Hux wakes to feel a pair of warm, calloused hands covering his. He doesn’t remember much, just the mission brief, the landing, and the cold. [M, 2.9k words, no warnings, starkiller rescue]

- Rumor Mill by @theweddingofthefoxes​ Everybody has their own suspicions about what Kylo Ren and General Hux get up to in private, but the truth is far more tender than anyone would guess. [G, 1.2k words, no warnings, fluff, cuddling]

- The One with the Eggs by sigo                 Hux turned on his heel, but hardly made it two steps before running straight into Kylo Ren. He knew his face betrayed his dismay. He didn’t have time for this. “I apologize, Ren, but I must be on my way.” Hux stepped to the side and Ren stepped in front of him again. Hux shivered as he felt another dropping sensation inside himself. This time the ‘drop’ completed its path — the inside of his pants was wet, cold gel trickling at a glacial pace down his thighs. Of course, that was nothing compared to what lay ahead. “Ren,” He said sharply. His voice was higher, raising in pitch the way it always did when he was panicked. “I am ill. Let me through.” Ren spoke through his ridiculous helmet, voice distorted. “We have a meeting.” [E, 4.8k, no warnings, alien hux, eggs, bottom kylo & top hux]

- Shadow Of Your Heart by @pangolinpirate​ & @redcole​ & @starkillersbae​ [WIP] After the fall of the empire Luke Skywalker fought a rising evil in the outer rim, a villain named Snoke who tormented his young nephew. With Snoke defeated, Leia sent her son to be trained as part of the new order of jedi, in the hopes that it would keep him safe. [E, 22.7k words, no warnings, omega kylo & alpha kylo, mpreg]

- Clear From Far Away by @pizzzazlut​ “But most of all, curse Kylo bloody Ren for having a chest that sparked pure, unadulterated arousal that has Hux humping his pillow like a fucking virgin.” Or the one where Hux is just trying to get off but his Supreme Leader just won't leave him alone. [E, 1.8k words, no warnings but dubcon, pillow humping]

- Tripped Over A Mouse Droid by @milarca​ & @ranebowstitches​ Hux gets injured while working, and Kylo finds him in the medbay. Who knew mouse droids could be so dangerous? [G, 3k words, no warnings, hurt/comfort, alpha kylo & omega hux]

- with you by @msbyjckals​ “You know I love you, right?” Ren said. “Of course I know that, I’ve always had you; you’ve always been mine.” [T, 1k words, no warnings, sleepy cuddles, soft domestic fluff]

- Unexpected Avenues by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof​ [WIP, Mitaka/Hux] No one wanted to take this particularly grisly task, but Dopheld is glad it fell to him when he realises that all is not as it seems. Can he make a new life on the run with his ex, now that everything he thought he knew has been turned upside down? [E, 84k words, omega hux & alpha kylo & alpha mitaka, mpreg, post-tros]

- Who Needs The Galaxy When There's You? by Mesmeret         Kylo is a simple, lonely smuggler with no one since his accident a decade ago. Or so he thought before his twelve year old daughter retrieves him to help out his long forgotten husband with a bothersome heat. [E, 7.7k words, no warnings, alpha kylo & omega hux, amnesia, smuggler kylo & mandalorian hux]

- By the Will of the Gods by @darktenshi17​ Armitage is chosen to be a sacrifice to his gods in return for his village's protection. It's not the gods who find him out in the woods. [E, 1.9k words, no warnings but dubcon, fantasy/medieval au,

- The Fall of Yesterday by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof​  [WIP] Seven years after Exegol, a nameless sailor works a thankless job onboard an Arkanis pearl harvester and fails to forget all the things he has lost. When the ship arrives at a new port all he wants to do is find a place to sleep through his shore leave. He might find more than that. [E, 10k words, no warnings, tros fix-it, alpha kylo & omega hux]

- Special Delivery by DaisyChainz Hux orders a toy that's supposed to be 'discreetly packaged', but when his hot mailman brings it directly to his front door, he finds out it is definitely not. [E, 3.3k words, no warnings, modern au, smut]

- Most Wanted by @pizzzazlut​ When the most prolific serial killer the city of Arkanis has ever seen is finally arrested and awaiting trial, it takes two of the cities most respected lawyers to represent the culprit and the victims. The only problem is that Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux haven't interacted since law school and will now have to work against each other to win the career-building case of a lifetime. Or The one where Kylo and Hux are rival lawyers with too much history but an equal amount of hate for Snoke. [E, 12.6k words, warnings for violence, modern au, murders and blood]

- Devotion by @kyluxtrashpit​ The Emperor loves to hear about his devoted hound's successful missions, ideally in as much detail as possible. Kylo does not disappoint. [E, 1.9k, no warnings, smut, emperor hux & hound kylo]

- three's a crowd by @thethespacecoyote​ Ren Prime catches Ben sneaking a First Order cadet onboard, and decides an unorthodox kind of punishment is in order. [E, 1.4k words, no warnings, ren prime, smut, voyeurism]

- If we have each other (the world is ours to conquer) by                    thereisnocowboyemoji “You think, what, that I have feelings for her?” “Please, Ren, do not dare try to insult my intelligence.” [G, 1.3k, no warnings, married kylux, mpreg, jealousy]

- In the Vents by @kyluxtrashpit​ Hux returns from his shift to find the bottom half of Kylo sticking out of the heating vent. Kylo is stuck and Hux isn't one to let opportunities pass him by. [E, 2k words, no warnings, pwp]

- the monster in your bed by @thethespacecoyote​ In the dead of night, something terrifying and lascivious comes to a sleeping General Hux. [E, 2k words, no warnings, consensual noncon roleplay, sub hux & dom kylo]

- Old Hornington Rides Again by oorsprong “Don’t be vulgar.” Of course he remembered. The embarrassing nickname had somehow become part of the whole taboo. Sex in the conference room in the early hours; Hux naked but for his boots and his hat and taunting Kylo with dirty talk. Kylo worshiped his cock in those days, treated it with reverence. “I could do it again.” [E, 1.3k words, no warnings, smut, old married kylux]

- His Purpose by partialresonance When Hux hears Snoke's voice in his mind, he thinks it's a caffeine hallucination. Until the voice plants an insidious purpose that Hux has no choice but to fulfill. Thankfully, Kylo is there to save him. Little does he know that the sinister presence was targeting him all along. [M, 5.6k words, no warnings, suicide attempt, mind manipulation, love confessions]  

- Mariner’s Hollo by Eirean Whilst on a diplomatic mission, Kylo is invited to take part in the planet’s ancient ritual, and demands that the Grand Marshall accompany him. Said Grand Marshall is deeply unimpressed by the whole thing. [E, 9.7k words, no warnings, enemies to lovers, smut]

- Let It Happen by @pizzzazlut​ Armitage Hux re-analyzed all his life choices up to this point and could not come up with anything as careless as this. Or the one where Ren joins Kylo and Hux in bed because he doesn't like being left out. [E, 2k words, ren prime, threesome]

- Come On And Slam by @thediktatortot​ Hux and Kylo invite Ren Prime into their chambers and get more than they bargain for. [E, 1.9k words, no warnings, ren prime, threesome]

- A Passing Madness by moreless “It’s a gift,” says Ren simply, folding his large hands behind his back. His gaze moves between the lightsaber and Hux. “It used to belong to the Jedi traitor Mace Windu. It reminded me of you.” Two steps forward, one step back. Another step back. That's how their relationship works. Even now. [T, 1.9k words, no warnings, duel of the fates au, power dynamics]

- Our Impeccable Leadership by roseofgalaxies The Supreme Leader and his treacherous General have begun to collaborate with unexpected success. There's only one problem: Ren's stopped wearing a shirt. [E, 4.8k words, no warnings, lego holiday special, body worship]

- Giving In by Kyram (BrokenApril) Hux has a mission. Millions of lives are on the line, yet Ren's presence teases him. He's desperate to give in even if his job will become all the harder. [T, 2.2k words, no warnings, touch starvation, force sensitive hux]

- to lay your armor down by surrenderer Once in a while, the Supreme Leader likes to wear his Chancellor’s greatcoat around the Capitol building. [M, 661 words, no warnings, role reversal, force sensitive hux & force null kylo]

- Benefits of Force Sensitivity by Kittens After the surprising change in his relationship with Ren, Hux has a lot to think about. But they also have a mission to complete and that may have unintended consequences. [M, 4.3k words, no warnings, force sensitive hux, cuddling]

[17tetsuro]

hi !! i hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself <3

if you got time may i request a hc of oikawa, atsumu and sakusa dating an argentinian female professional volleyball player ?

thank you !! also, remember to drink water and take breaks, i think you deserve some time for yourself and relax. xx

haikyuu boys with an argentinian professional volleyball player s/o

feat. oikawa, atsumu, sakusa

g/n reader, except for sakusa’s part

requests are open!

warnings: mentions of fainting and blacking out but like in a romantic way

hii!! i really hope you like this, i tried to work around the fact that atsumu and sakusa are both on the jpn team, meaning them having an s/o who's on the arg team might not be so easy, but i decided all my solutions were crap, so i just,, said they figured it out somehow lmao,, still, thank you for requesting and sorry this took this long!! i hope you’re also taking care of yourself!!<3

oikawa absolutely adores you, from the moment he saw you. you both move in the same circles, so of course you’ve heard of each other before and met in passing at events, but it wasn’t until he went to see your team play a a match that he started to pay more attention to you. he noticed how incredibly ralented you were and how you dominated the sets with your plays and he was gone for you. he approached you after you won the match to congratulate you nad to ask if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime to talk about volleyball and argentina, since he was fairly new there. you agreed, of course, suspecting he just wanted to spend time with you rather than get tourism tips. one coffee date turned into two, and soon enough every saturday morning is spent with oikawa at a local cafe, bantering over lattes. saturday morning dates progress to friday night-saturday morning dates, and next thing you know, you have a gorgeous and talented boyfriend who seems to think his sole purpose in life is to make you laugh until you're out of breath and clutching your sides and to make you blush so deep people compare you to a tomato. he's a very supportive and loving boyfriend and whenever you can, you go to each other's matches and practices. you also try to practice together, but you quickly realized the other's presence on the court is rather distracting, so you abandoned that idea. oikawa never fails to spoil you, even though you both make about the same amount of money due to your jobs. he just loves seeing you in thousand dollar clothes for formal events, sue him. he also loves to see you turn scarlet when he whispers 'i love you' in your ear sproadically. he's your number one fan and you are his.

atsumu and you met during a party hosted by oikawa, who is a mutual friend of yours. he spotted you talking to hinata and decided to shoot his shot. at first he didn't consider spending the rest of his life with you (who would, honestly), but the idea of waking up next to you even when he's fifty planted itself in his head by your sixth date. not only were you a volleyball player like him, you also shared a lot of favorites; movies, artists, books, cuddling positions. even though the majority of the first stages of your relationship was long-distance, when you both realized it wasn't a passing romance kind of thing, you managed to work out how you could live together and also maintain your jobs, and it's not easy, but neither of you would have it any other way. atsumu regularly takes you on dates; he always finds a new restaurant or there's always a fair in the city that he thinks you'd enjoy. he's a very spontaneous person and that shines through whenever he's in charge of date night. just like oikawa, atsumu also loves to spoil you and prefers to pay on date nights. he loves showing you off as his (because you're just so gorgeous he has to remind himself of this fact), so he always has an arm around your waist/shoulder or a hand in yours, though he prefers the former. his social media feeds are full of you too, maybe one or two posts are dedicated to promoting his matches and team. whenever you're apart due to matches, he always makes sure to call and text as many times as he can throughout the day and even sends you random wholesome memes he finds on pinterest ("this reminded me of you, babe"). in genera, your relationship is built on trust and love, and he loves learning about your roots almost as much as you love learning about his. 

sakusa was introduced to you by oikawa at a japan-argentina match and you two hit it off instantly. you decided to ask sakusa if he wanted to grab some food with you and the smile you sent his way when he said yes almost made him collapse on the spot. due to your busy schedules, you didn’t have much time to meet up, but you were in constant contact and became close friends quickly. the next time you met, sakusa asked you out on an actual date, and asked you to be his girlfriend and when you agreed, he did black out for a second. he genuinely doesn’t think he deserves you, no matter what you tell him. he always goes out of his way to bring you souvenirs and snacks from japan whenever you meet up, and you do the same for him, but with argentinian goods. after a while, you start working out a plan on how you could spend more together and ultimately settle on moving in together. you still have periods of time when you’re not in the same country, but it’s much more bearable when you know the other is waiting for you in your shared home. sakusa, just like atsumu, loves to show you off at every chance he gets, especially at formal events organized by a sponsor or the japan volleyball association. he always makes sure the two of you are the best dressed at these parties. he also loves matching you in your daily life; when you’re jogging in a park, when you go to a fair, even when you’re just grocery shopping, he tries to color coordinate your outfits as best as he can, it makes him feel even closer to you. he is a great cook; he makes sure that he cooks for you at least once a week, and often experiments with different meals from all around the world. he loves the way you light up when you notice he’s cooking. though balancing your professional and personal lives isn’t an easy job, you both try your best and at the end of the day, you know you have each other, and that’s more than enough.

[orsuliya]

I feel like of everyone in the cast, Xie Wanru was dealt the worst deck. I honestly understood her bitchiness. She was used, abused, tormented, betrayed, and ultimately sacrificed. Thoughts?

What’s most tragic about Wanru is that from the very start nobody's fighting in her corner. She's utterly alone; the person that comes closest to being a bonafide ally is Awu... and at that point Awu understands nothing about Wanru's true plight and in fact exacerbates it by the fact of her very existence. See, there is not a single moment when Awu doesn't have somebody on her side. If I was Wanru, I'd be bitchy as well!

Let's look at what kind of support Wanru starts out with. There's her father, sure. Who presents her marriage as a done deal, not even bothering to dress it up in terms of noble sacrifice or sacred duty or anything that could help Wanru go to the altar with her head held high. Oh, and he hits her when she begs him to reconsider, tears in her eyes. Father of the year... he is not.

There's also every reason to suspect that he might have been less than helpful after Wanru's rape. His conversation with Daddy Emperor about this matter tells it all. He doesn't mention his daughter's pain and we know from Zitan that she tried to kill herself, so clearly she wasn't doing well, was she now. No, what bothers Papa Xie the most is that HE is feeling humiliated. Bully for you, you old bastard. What really pisses me off, however, is that he's more than ready to write Wanru off completely. He's not even demanding an imperial marriage as recompense! That was all Daddy Wang's idea; Papa Xie isn't very interested, despite it being the easiest way to restore Wanru's reputation. In fact, he proposes demoting Potato and installing Zitan as Crown Prince. Which tells us all about his priorities: Wanru and her future position are inconsequential in comparison to Xie domination. Now, Daddy Wang may use his children for power-grabbing, but there is no doubt whatsoever that he cares about his daughter. As for Jinruo... Since she could hardly tell anybody the true reason for retreating to Ci'an Temple, for any outsider, Wanru included, it looks like she separated from her husband solely in protest over marrying Awu off to Xiao Qi.

Compare that to Xie Guifei, Wanru's aunt for whom she will grieve and whom she will try to avenge. Wanru is very much not her priority. So much so that when Wanru betrays her intention of asking Xie Guifei to intercede with the Emperor about her future marriage to Xiao Qi, she is told that her aunt already knows, she consulted with the Emperor on the subject and it's all fine. Sure it is; Zitan is the one who matters and the only one on whose behalf Xie Guifei will use her influence. After the rape she consoles Wanru and takes her side... but. But she chooses her words very unfortunately, making it more about the Xie-Wang rivalry and less about Wanru herself.

Zitan? Right. He's so very concerned about his cousin's rape that he does more damage to Potato in Awu's name than in hers and then spends the night under Awu's windows. Wanru might not know about the latter, but she'd be bound to hear about the former sooner or later. And in a way both he and Awu seem to benefit from Wanru's rape, since Potato is no longer a bachelor and thus not an option for Princess Shangyang. For a time only, until Daddy Wang gets there with his poison, and it's not like they do it intentionally, but still, it must smart a lot. Not to mention that Zitan does technically try to run away with Awu, no matter how late he gets off his ass. A successful elopement would mean leaving Wanru - with her clan in shambles and in a very precarious position - utterly alone. In fact, guess who would be an excellent target for any ambitious family with daughters to pin the blame on, should Zitan actually manage to run away?

Awu tries, but she doesn't get it. She can't. She never will. And her childish naivety doesn't help, not when Wanru is forced to watch jealously as Awu gets what she herself wants/needs/lacks time after time, be it care, loyalty, protection and even a choice in regards to marrying Xiao Qi. Sure, it's not a great choice, but buying Zitan's life in exchange for three bows is a mutually beneficial deal, even if one made under duress. It's still more that Wanru got either time!

And that's only the start. From there on Wanru gets more and more reasons to feel bitter every day. Awu marries an unwanted husband? He kindly fucks off to the frontier, while Wanru is forced to live with her rapist day and night. Awu gets kidnapped? Zitan starts running around like a headless chicken and goes as far as to kneel before the Emperor's door... as if he had completely forgotten that Wangs are the enemy. And then Awu commits the worst offense of them all as it turns out she really lucked out on that husband whom Wanru had scorned. There is a reason why Wanru feels the need to lord her imperial status and proven fertility over Awu and to an extent I might even undestand why she feels the need to do so.

She may be an Empress, but she really has nobody in her corner except a weathervane of a husband who might turn any moment and the oh so faithful Nanny Sus. Zitan is not in her corner, he's never been. It's Wanru who has always been in his. Even her Xie relatives serve their own interests more than hers, instead of forming a united front, such as it may be.

Even Wanru's triumphs aren't triumphs at all. She gets pregnant? Instead of enjoying her newly-found status as putative mother to the heir, she gets whacked on the head with a power struggle courtesy of her mother-in-law. Miracle Baby is born? Her position theoretically strenghtens and yet greatly weakens at the same time, as Potato's leash starts slipping through her fingers. And that leash, that power she held over Crown Prince and then Emperor Potato was the only thing that made this marriage bearable in the first place.

And let us not speak of the senselessness of Wanru's death. Oh, it might have all been worth it... if only Potato didn't spit over her still warm body by announcing that it doesn't matter if Miracle Baby becomes the Emperor or not. Wasn't ensuring her son's succession the reason why Wanru had to die in the first place...?

Once upon a time I couldn't understand Wanru's fixation on Awu as opposed to, say, Daddy Wang or Turnip. These days I've become much more astute. Bitterness is a truly powerful motivator. And where bitterness hasn't yet started to form, fresh grief over one's father - no matter how shitty he might have been - will do the trick.

[sonnetthebard]

On Losing One’s Head

Or, in other words, my entry to @shipwreckedcomedy‘s fanfiction contest. I have had a really fun time reading the works of Washington Irving to prep for this, and it’s only made me more excited for this series. Even though I know in a modern adaptation it may be changed I’m sticking to a lot of the facts that Irving gives us about the Headless Horseman. Thank you to everyone on here who gave me ideas/ inspiration/ let me rant to you for a bit while I figured this out. It took a bit longer than I had anticipated, but I’m really happy with it. This is probably so far from canon, but I got a prompt from the wonderful ‘S’ anon on here and I had to write it. Enjoy!

Genre: Comedy/ Fluff/ Mystery/ A Pinch of Angst

Words: 4249

TL;DR: Ichabod Crane tries to unravel a bit of the Headless Horseman’s past in order to try and figure out where his head might be. 

TW: Minor bullying, Mentions of war, mentions of PTSD, mentions of decapitation

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Ichabod Crane navigated the hallways of the school, eyes trained on his feet. He normally wouldn’t allow himself to walk with such a closed posture- it exposed him for how nervous he was (which was, contrary to popular belief, a more recent development in his personality). This town had put him a bit on edge. This town and his roommate, who was as inexplicable as he was persistent, and happened to be the reason he was allowing himself to walk with such a closed posture. He had a series of questions to ask his roommate at the forefront of his mind, and he’d spent a majority of the day figuring out how to word them so that he didn’t sound completely heartless. He didn’t want anything or anyone distracting him, because the talk he was about to have was very important- well, he thought it was anyways. It was important to him. His roommate seemed like a good person, and he really did want to help him (though it seemed like his roommate was doing more ‘helping’ at the moment than Ichabod was). 

Ichabod’s roommate was, of course, the infamous Headless Horseman. It had certainly made his life interesting- especially given that he was only just settling into this new town and his new position. He was just navigating his new life, and now on top of that, he was also trying to find his friend’s head. So far, no luck on that front. He hadn’t had a lot of luck on many fronts. It didn’t seem like his colleagues were particularly fond of him- especially not Douffe Martling or Brom Bones and his cronies. He wasn’t quite sure what it was with Martling other than perhaps a naturally uptight attitude, but he could at least venture a guess on why Brom Bones didn’t like him. It seemed they both had their eyes set on the same woman- which was another front on which Ichabod had not been very lucky. Katrina Van Tassel, the woman his heart had decided to set on, did not seem to reciprocate his affections in the slightest. Mind you Ichabod also found her incredibly hard to read. She was confident and smart, and one could interpret nearly everything she did as flirtatious. But you also got the overwhelming sense when interacting with her that she was not flirting in the slightest. 

Ichabod needed to stop distracting himself, he thought, as pleasant of a distraction as Kat was. He was on a roll. He was trying to get back to his room in a timely matter because (and I cannot emphasize this enough) this conversation was important. It was also a conversation that his friend would prefer to keep confidential, so he needed to get back to his room and have it before anyone could decide to tag along. He wasn’t the only person in Sleepy Hollow who wanted to help the Headless Horseman find his head. In fact, he had many supporters. But this particular conversation was delicate. Ichabod intended to ask how precisely his new friend had come about losing his head. Ichabod believed that perhaps even though this head wasn’t the Horseman’s original one, it may be able to help with some of his memories- physical memories, that was. It would likely be a hard conversation, Ichabod considered. Losing one’s head seemed like it would be traumatic. Remembering that feeling wouldn’t be pleasant for his friend. He would eventually need to share the necessary details with those who were intent on helping him and his friend, but perhaps the Horseman might feel slightly more comfortable having the initial conversation privately where he could express his emotions without judgement- if, of course, he had any. It was more of a precaution. 

Ichabod found himself so consumed in his thoughts that he neglected to notice a foot extended in front of him. He was looking at his feet. He really should have seen it. But he was in a state not uncommon to him where the world within his head had taken precedence over the world outside of it. Ichabod tumbled to the ground with a thud, and it was not long until a roaring chorus of laughter resounded above him. He did not even need to look up to know precisely who he had encountered and what had happened. He did the courtesy of looking up anyways- though it was probably only feeding their egos to see the embarrassment flush on his face. As Ichabod had suspected, the figures of Brom Bones and his three usual companions Tripp, Cal and Blair loomed above him, their bodies racking with every laugh. Ichabod sighed, fixing his glasses and trying not to pay them much mind. The more upset he got with them and their shenanigans, the more satisfied they would be with their results (which meant that they’d be inclined to throw something else his way). He stood, brushing himself off and starting back on his way. Before he could get very far, though, he felt a strong grip on his arm pulling him back. Even once he had stopped walking, it didn’t let go. It seemed Brom wasn’t through terrorizing him yet. 

“Where are you going?” The strapping Brom Bones smirked. It was a smirk Ichabod was all too familiar with, and one that he had very much hoped he wouldn’t be seeing. Brom was holding him up intentionally. He knew Ichabod didn’t want to be there. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

“Well-” Ichabod started before being cut off.

“You going to try to pick up Katrina?” Tripp teased, pouting and cooing mockingly at the mention of the woman Ichabod had taken a liking took. He sighed as all four men found amusement in that and erupting into laughter again. 

“What? No!” Ichabod blushed.

“Ichabod and Kat, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-” Cal and Blair cooed before Brom raised a hand to signal for them to stop. 

“That’s enough, guys.” Brom told them, trying not to show how much that bothered him. There was only just a hint of jealousy in his tone, but it was enough for the boys to know they’d gone too far. He seemed to size up Ichabod again, before letting go of Ichabod’s arm. Ichabod sighed in relief, thinking that he was finally free... until Brom wrapped an arm around him in a seemingly friendly gesture, putting on his smug smirk again. Ichabod seized up a bit. He was not too fond of physical contact at the best of times, but especially not from Brom Bones. It took everything in him not to scowl. “So if you’re not going to see Kat... what’s the rush getting out of here?”

 “I’m going to have a talk with the Horseman.” Ichabod told him plainly, hoping that was enough to get him out of this. Whatever Brom Bones had against Ichabod, the feeling was entirely mutual.  

“But don’t you, like, live with him?” Cal pointed out. 

“You could literally talk to him any time.” Tripp nodded. 

“Yes, but I’ve spent all day planning this conversation.” Ichabod sighed. There were very few people Ichabod knew who would understand his situation, and these men were most certainly not among them. “I have to do it soon before I forget what I was going to say.”

“It’s just a conversation, man!” Tripp laughed. 

“It’s not just any conversation.” Ichabod told him, getting an idea. “It’s about his head.”

“You’re still on that, are you?” Brom rolled his eyes, letting him go. He knew he didn’t need to hold Ichabod there anymore. Not only did Blair, Tripp and Cal have him surrounded, but... now Ichabod felt socially obligated to stay. Brom Bones was a lot smarter than he let on (at least socially). Most bullies were. 

“Well... yes. I’d like to help him find it.” Ichabod shrugged. 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Brom warned him in what Ichabod might almost consider to be a genuine tone. He hand a hand through his hair subconsciously, and Blair reached forward once he was done to fix a strand that had fallen in Brom’s face. Brom gave him a clap on the back as a silent ‘thank you’. Ichabod had always found those four men to be strangely close. “Listen, bud... he’s been missing his head a long time.”

“Since before we were born.” Blair added. 

“It’s not like you’re just going to waltz in and find it.” Brom sighed. “This head probably isn’t going to know anything.”

“We don’t know that.” Ichabod countered. “We’ve finally got people taking the search for his head seriously, and I think we’re making good progress!”

“Right... you keep telling yourself that.” Brom rolled his eyes. “Alright, guys, let him go.”

“But you said-” Tripp furrowed his brows. 

“He’s doing enough damage himself.” Brom sighed. The boys cleared a path for Ichabod, and he meekly started to walk away. He felt oddly embarrassed, or ashamed, about what he was doing. He tried to shake it off, but Brom had successfully gotten under his skin and he knew it. Brom chuckled, almost gloating. “Have fun, dork!”

“Thank you?” Ichabod tried, unsure as to how he was supposed to respond to that. 

Ichabod made his way out of the school (but not without a cold glare from Douffe). Perhaps what Brom Bones had said had some merit. His headless friend had been missing his head for a long time. Did Ichabod really think things were magically going to go better this time around? He wasn’t even dealing with the original head. He couldn’t expect to find anything new. But then again... Ichabod himself had also posed a good point. They did seem to be making progress. And how were they supposed to know if his head could ever be found until they tried? No, Brom was wrong. Brom was wrong a lot of the time, but especially about this. He walked down the streets of the town, head down but significantly more aware of his surroundings. He’d learned his lesson- at least for now. His room was within walking distance from the school. In this town, just about everything was within walking distance. He exchanged nods of acknowledgement with a few people on the street, a smile or two. Luckily, he was running into people who knew better than to bother him when he was like this. People like Judy, Rip Jr., Verla, or Matilda. Verla and Matilda probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway. But Judy had given him a nice smile, and it had raised his spirits. It’s funny how small things could do that. 

“Ichabod!” A light voice called out from behind him. Ichabod pivoted, recognizing it instantly. For anyone else, Ichabod would have simply waved, continuing on his way. But this wasn’t anyone. This was Katrina. Ichabod smiled softly upon finding that he was right. It was a dopey sort of grin commonly found in people when they saw the person that brightened their lives. “You’re out early!”

“School ended half an hour ago.” Ichabod furrowed his brows, confused by her implication. 

“Oh, I know.” Kat clarified. “You usually stay a bit longer, though.”

“Oh.” Ichabod nodded. And that was when it hit him: he had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He’d always been a little socially awkward- especially when he was under as much pressure as he was with Kat. He bit his lip, trying to think of what to say next. Luckily, Kat took care of that for him. 

“Any particular reason you’re out so soon?” Kat asked, finally catching up with him. She kept walking as if silently asking him to walk with her, or maybe telling him it was okay for him to continue on his way. That she would follow. Either way, it was a great comfort to Ichabod.

“I thought of a few questions to ask the Horseman.” Ichabod told her. 

“What kinds of questions?” Kat asked. Ichabod could tell she wasn’t teasing him. She was genuinely interested. But there was also an air of amusement to her that was undeniable, and admittedly rather attractive to Ichabod. It made him feel like she genuinely enjoyed his company. A light blush covered his cheeks.

“Well... I was hoping to ask him about how exactly he lost his head.” Ichabod admitted. “See if maybe his history might be able to help us figure out where to look in the present.”

“That’s a really good idea! Maybe this head will know!” Kat hummed in agreement. “I’ve always wondered about what happened... People say he was a Hessian soldier. You know, during the revolution.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the concept of Hessian soldiers.” Ichabod hummed. “German regiments for hire, if you will, employed by the British to fight in the Revolutionary War. Do you really think he’s a Hessian?”

“That’s what the lore says.” Kat shrugged, smirking. 

“All the more reason for me to talk to him about this alone.” Ichabod decided. He blushed again, not having meant to think aloud like that. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” Kat assured him. “He’s probably not going to want a lot of people around if you’re talking about... you know, war. It should be just you and him.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Ichabod sighed softly in relief. 

“I don’t like to talk about war anyways.” Kat admitted. “I don’t... I mean...”

“I understand.” Ichabod hummed sympathetically. No one liked talking about war. But on top of that, he knew Kat was very against slaughter of any kind. “Have you thought about how to approach it if he has... you know, PTSD?” Kat asked. “It’s pretty common in soldiers, even if this isn’t his original head.”

“I... haven’t.” Ichabod admitted. “I did work out how to ask the in a way that I think will be the least upsetting or offensive.”

“That’s a good first step.” Kat encouraged him. “Just... respect his boundaries. Give him the space and time he needs to answer- if he can answer. Don’t pressure him if he can’t.”

“Right.” Ichabod nodded, taking mental note of those things. “Thank you, Kat.”

“No problem.” Kat smiled softly. It was smiles like those that made appearances in Ichabod’s dreams as he rested his head. She had, Ichabod thought, the most beautiful smile in the world. It was so kind. They approached the inn, and Kat sighed. “Well, this is your stop.”

“It is...” Ichabod chuckled semi-nervously. He stopped, shifting his weight awkwardly on his feet. She had him so nervous that he couldn’t quite stand still. 

“Good luck, Ichabod.” Kat smirked. Ichabod blushed. It seemed that nearly everything Katrina did, intentional or not, made him blush. 

“Thank you!” Ichabod called after her, watching for a few moments as she continued down the street. 

Ichabod sighed, imagining very briefly what their family would look like. He imagined they would be a very handsome family (though the children would get their looks from their mother- he was of the opinion that he was a bit homely). He snapped himself out of it before he could go too far down that rabbit hole. He wondered for a moment if it was weird that he was already thinking that way about a woman he hadn’t even worked up the nerve to ask out. It likely was. But his heart tended pine after things and his mind did no helping, running wild with even the smallest of fantasies. When he was a child, a teacher once told him that his appetite for the fanciful was unsurpassable. He was now rather more a man of reason than he was then, where he was willing to believe just about everything he heard. But his mind did still run wild with whims about more everyday pleasures. Rational joys, like love, romance, and food. Mostly food, until Katrina came along. For a man his size, he had a surprising appetite...

“Hey, Ichabod!” Someone called. Ichabod snapped his head, looking for where it was coming from. Oh. It was Judy again. He waved. “Do you need me to call Lucretia to get you a new key?”

“What?” Ichabod blinked. 

“You’ve been standing there for a while.” Judy pointed out. “Did you lose your key?”

“Oh...” Ichabod blushed. He pulled out his keys, holding them up. “I’m fine!”

“Okay! Just wanted to be sure!” Judy chuckled, going back to her own business.

“Thank you!” Ichabod called after her. It was lovely that she cared. He quickly and carefully opened the door to his room. He saw his friend the horseman busy at work taking a tray of what appeared to be either muffins or cupcakes out of a microwave oven he’d been gifted by the family of one of his students. The room smelled wonderful. “Hello...”

“Oh, hey Ichabod!” The Horseman turned, his- or, rather, her (for now)- hair splaying out behind her in a fan-like motion. She gave him a brief smile before busying herself with her work again. Ichabod liked this head on the Horseman. “I hope you don’t mind, but while you were out I thought you might be hungry when you got home, so... I made some carrot cake muffins.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Ichabod sighed contentedly. So long as she didn’t burn the room down, he had no objections to food. 

“We just have to let those sit for a bit.” The Horseman muttered, removing the last of the muffins from the pan. “There! I’ve got a cream cheese icing in the fridge for when they cool if you want.”

“Lovely.” Ichabod chuckled. 

“How was your day at school?” The Horseman asked. 

“Good.” Ichabod told her, sighing and taking a seat on his bed. The mention of school had reminded him of why he had left school so promptly in the first place. She seemed to be in such a good mood... he hated to ruin it. “Would you... I have a few questions.”

“Oh... sure.” The Horseman shrugged, sitting down on the small chaise in the corner of the room. “What is it?”

“I... know this isn’t your body.” Ichabod bit his lip. “But... do you remember anything about it?”

“I... don’t know. I think, a bit.” The Horseman considered. 

“Do you think you might remember how you lost it?” Ichabod asked carefully. Well, that wasn’t what he’d planned on saying. He winced. “Your head, I mean. Do you remember how...”

“I... can try to.” The Horseman offered. "I don't know what I'll be able to get, though... I don't have the eyes, ears or mind of the original body"

“You could still find something.” Ichabod reasoned. 

“Just give me a moment.” The Horseman nodded, sighing. She closed her eyes for a moment, head in her hands. 

Ichabod gave her space and silence to think. Each new head the Horseman donned seemed to unveil a bit more about his personality. He hadn’t thought to ask about any memories before because it didn’t seem entirely logical to assume that any head other than his own would hold them. But... he’d gotten the idea at school today that maybe the body had a few memories of its own. Like a physical memory. It was silly. And it might lead to nothing. But the chance that it might amount to something was too much for Ichabod to pass us. He was a man of science. And with science comes experimentation. It’s how humanity evolves and grows. This was an experiment that might prove fruitless but was still necessary. Because like many experiments, you can never be certain of what you’re going to find until you conduct it. After a moment, the Horseman raised her head and opened her eyes. 

“Anything?” Ichabod asked cautiously. 

“Not much.” The Horseman shook her head. 

“Not much is better than nothing.” Ichabod blinked, pleasantly surprised. “What did you remember?”

“Well... I don’t have anything visual or auditory... because like I said, those are kind of gone...” The Horseman warned him. “But I can remember... I think the body was fighting. I mean, obviously it was on horseback. That’s how it got its name. But... I think it was holding a gun of some sort. Maybe a musket?”

“Interesting... so perhaps you were a soldier...” Ichabod hypothesized. “Anything else?” 

“Well... you’re not gonna like this.” The Horseman chuckled nervously. She clearly didn’t like it either. “I don’t think this body’s head was cut off.”

“What?” Ichabod blinked. 

“From what I got, it felt more like the head was ripped off. Or blown off. I’m kinda leaning towards it being blown off...” The Horseman winced. 

“With a gun?” Ichabod asked cautiously. 

“I’m thinking something a bit bigger than a bullet.” The Horseman shook her head. “I don’t know what, though.”

“Well, a cannonball would be too big...” Ichabod thought aloud. 

“You know what, I don’t think it would.” The Horseman snapped her fingers. An almost cartoonish ‘lightbulb moment' look graced her features. 

“A cannonball?” Ichabod gulped. 

Well... she was right. he didn’t like that. Because if his friend had lost his head to a cannonball, the odds of it being in good shape were slim. He certainly hoped that this Headless Helper, as he’d named her, was wrong. That maybe the head had been cut clean off. Or that if it hadn’t, it was at least in usable shape. Mind you, he realized, his friend was certainly not around by any natural means, and it was wrong to assume that his head would have been preserved by any natural means either. This entire situation was unlike anything Ichabod had ever been through. It was terrifying... and absolutely thrilling. Ichabod had always imagined himself playing hero, and though these circumstances were odd ones, he was finally living that reality in a way. But back to the matter at hand... perhaps he now had more clues to his Headless friend’s identity.

“I’m sorry...” The Horseman winced. “I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”

“Actually, it really helps. Very useful information.” Ichabod assured her. “This is the closest we’ve gotten to finding out who the Horseman is. Thank you.”

“I’m just happy I could help.” The Horseman smiled shyly. 

“Are you okay?” Ichabod asked carefully. 

“I think so.” The Horseman shrugged. “I just... I feel bad for this guy. What he went through sucks.”

“Yes it does.” Ichabod hummed sympathetically. 

“I mean, I guess it was a quick death.” The Horseman reasoned. “I just... wow.”

“I’m sorry for-” Ichabod started. 

“No. Don’t be. I really want this guy to find his head.”  The Horseman cut him off. “I’m fine.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Ichabod nodded, not wanting to push. There was a moment of silence between them. “You know, it’s okay not to be.”

“What?” The Horseman blinked, confused. 

“It’s okay not to be fine.” Ichabod told her. “And if you’re not, or you need anything... I’m here.”

“Thank you.” The Horseman sighed. There was another moment of silence. Ichabod didn’t know what else to say. "I think the muffins have probably cooled enough for us to try. Want one?”

“I would love one.” Ichabod nodded getting up, walking to his desk, and pulling out his notebook. 

And so Ichabod Crane took some rather detailed notes on his findings, however scarce, and his new hypotheses about where they might find his friend’s head. While he did this, he snacked on one (or two, or three) of the Headless Helper’s muffins- which were exceptional. Especially for the grade of the oven they’d been baked in. This head had a knack for knowing precisely what Ichabod needed and providing it to him. The other heads he’d encountered... not so much. It was a finicky business working with his headless friend because with every new head he changed fairly drastically- almost as if he were an entirely different person. What a mess Ichabod had gotten himself wrapped up in... Truly, he’d only come to Sleepy Hollow to teach science. Teaching was his passion, and he was very much enjoying his job in Sleepy Hollow. But his mind had always wandered towards the inexplicable, and that was a term that more than aptly described his friend the Horseman. 

In a sense, Ichabod felt that maybe that had been the true reason he was drawn to this little town. That perhaps a higher purpose did exist in his life than simply to teach. He had always thought teaching was his calling, but perhaps it was simply a step on the journey that was meant to be his life. Or a vessel, he supposed, for it was teaching that had brought him to where he was. Whatever the case may be, Ichabod knew that what he was doing in helping the Horseman felt right. He wasn’t usually a man to trust pure gut instinct, but this was different. This felt like the start of something. Ichabod hoped that it was a good something. He would hate to be on the wrong side of history. The Headless Horseman had been a beloved legend for so long, and Ichabod felt it in his bones that he was now building onto that legend. That was a scary prospect. Because if he made a wrong move, all that he was building could crumble as quickly and as easily as a Jenga tower and leave him buried under the weight of his failure, the villain of a story he had never intended to be written into. 

[seokmingiggles]

comfortable.

@gloryofroses19 requested on 201219: “Would you write a fluff Min Yoongi one shot where he’s crushing on Jimin and Taehyung’s fellow 95er best friend who’s birthday is 11 days before Taehyung’s (aka today), so she and Yoongi get together when he find her taking a break on a balcony at a surprise birthday party they threw for her (lying to her that it was for Taehyung) even though they know she hates the idea of being the center/doesn’t like making a big deal about her birthday?”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers(?), first confessions.

1.96k words

Warnings: some alcohol consumption.

At your surprise birthday party, you find yourself to be more enamoured by the musician accompanying you on your balcony than the happenings inside. Alternatively, where Yoongi has been waiting for the opportune moment to confess to you, unknowing that his feelings are mutual.

A/N: First of all, thank you for being my first request! I hope I’ve done your concept justice :) There are a couple of small details that I haven’t included, but the overall gist should be the same. I hope you enjoy it! And happy birthday if it’s anyone’s birthday who may be reading!

•• "I can't believe you two! This looks amazing. Thank you," Jimin beamed as he spun around to look at the array of decorations you and Taehyung had embellished his apartment with earlier that afternoon.

For Jimin's 25th birthday, you wanted to do something special. The boy was the biggest libra you knew—loving to host parties and social gatherings. While parties weren't typically your cup of tea, you and Taehyung knew that Jimin would appreciate the sentiment.

"I think we make a pretty good team, right, (Y/N)-ie?" Taehyung smiled back at Jimin's praise, patting your shoulder as he referred to you.

•

Only a couple of months later, you found yourself in a similar situation.

"Surprise!" A chorus of voices called out as you stepped into your apartment, Taehyung nudging you through the doorway as you were momentarily stunned.

"What's all this?" You forced a smile and directed the question to your tall friend beside you, slipping your shoes off and proceeding to remove your outerwear. You could already feel your face beginning to heat at all of the gazes directed at you.

Taehyung chortled, "It's for you, obviously. Happy birthday, (Y/N)-ie."

You had just been out for your annual birthday dinner with Taehyung and Jimin, your two best friends for many years. You should have suspected something when the elder suddenly stood from across the table shortly before he finished his meal, claiming he got an emergency text from his brother and had to leave right away. Really, the blond just wanted to make sure everything at your place was properly prepared before your arrival. Jimin picked up some last-minute snacks and drinks on his way to your apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently for your appearance.

You scanned the room around you. Where you'd normally have your comfortable, minimalist furnishings occupying the room, you found yourself standing before what had to be nearly a dozen people. You knew everyone here, that wasn't an issue. Instead, the matter was you simply didn't find joy in parties—even your own birthday party—despite the kind gesture from your two best friends who you knew put this gathering together out of love.

Your eyes landed on Seokjin, who was standing at your kitchen island having a conversation with Moonbyul and Sana; the two girls were laughing at something the eldest had said. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Nayeon, three you weren't completely familiar with, went to greet Taehyung behind you after wishing you a happy birthday. Mingyu and Jungkook were sitting on the sofa, each already with a drink in their hands. Yoongi sat in the armchair next to them; the youngest was beckoning you over to join them. As you were still a bit bewildered by the noise of the party, Jimin collected your hand and guided you to join him and the other three in the seating area.

Jimin took a seat on the floor after stealing a couch cushion to sit on, wanting to be close to the array of snacks organized on your coffee table. You figured it was because he had left the restaurant before he finished the last bits of his dinner (which Taehyung had no problem volunteering his stomach to handle the few remaining bites). You squished onto the end of the couch next to Mingyu, declining the offer of a drink that the boy held out to you as you sat down. Jimin accepted the drink on your behalf and the three gave a brief toast to you.

You eyed Yoongi for a moment. You knew him as a like-minded individual to yourself, in the sense that he also wasn't too fond of parties. Maybe that's why he was occupied with something on his phone. You noticed the slight pink tinge to his cheeks, likely from the beer, you considered, spotting the can on the side table next to him.

In reality, Yoongi was forcing himself to keep his eyes on his phone because he's sure he'd otherwise be caught admiring you. He already took in the pretty blush on the apples of your cheeks and the way you styled your hair nicely for your dinner with Jimin and Taehyung.

Yoongi didn't let himself have crushes very often, yet, he was unmistakably drawn to you. With your airy laughter and bright eyes and the most beautiful smile; how you'd appear lively even though he knew you were uncomfortable in party settings. Words couldn't encompass the effect you had on Yoongi. He was tongue-tied; smitten like a schoolboy having his first love.

He wanted to do something about his feelings for you, but he didn't know where to begin. Yoongi first met you through Taehyung when you were all back in college. He didn't know what to expect when the younger boy asked if he could bring his friend to Yoongi's piano recital later that spring but agreed nonetheless. Apparently, you were fond of classical music.

What was initially only some small talk at the end of the recital became a new acquaintance between the two of you. Sharing your favourite musicians and songs over coffee or the occasional study session after class happened naturally. Yoongi cherished the times you spent together during your studies. It was only natural for him to become disappointed when you drifted apart after graduation.

He thought that his feelings for you would subside from the distance created, but here he was in your presence once again, and it was like nothing had changed in his heart. He gulped down the last of his beer in an attempt to calm his senses.

•

Some playful conversation with your friends and a drink in you later, you found the heat radiating off your face becoming unbearable and decided to excuse yourself for a moment onto your balcony to regain your senses. For a one-bedroom apartment in the city, the balcony wasn't anything special to you. You typically didn't use it at all during the colder months of November to March, instead truly only utilizing it for the early summer sunrises that you had a front-row seat to.

Yoongi figured he must have done a poor job concealing his concern for you when Jungkook asked if he had too much to drink.

Yoongi just shook his head, muttering that he was fine as he watched you close the balcony door behind you.

"You should just tell her, hyung," Jimin had one hand on his full tummy and the other clutching a drink half-full, still sat on the floor. "Otherwise, nothing's going to keep happening between you two."

Yoongi tried to act like he was none-the-wiser of what the blond was talking about, only stopping his act when Jungkook interjected, "The least you could do is check if she's alright out there. Or maybe bring her a coat."

Yoongi wondered since when has Jungkook thought of good ideas? Especially after having a couple of drinks. The kid was more profound than he let on.

The nervous musician stood from the chair he'd been glued to thus far, wiping his clammy hands onto his jean-clad-thighs as he neared the balcony door after collecting your jacket. He told himself it was silly to be so anxious; he was only checking in on you.

Yoongi cleared his throat to prepare his voice from faltering, "Hey, are you feeling alright?"

You turned away from the cityscape to see him stepping outside, eyeing the bit of warm air escaping from inside as it became visible, mixing with the cool night atmosphere. The closed sliding door nicely muffled the overlapping voices and music from inside.

You nodded as Yoongi approached you, "I was getting a little bit stuffy inside. I'm good now, though. Crowds can wear me out after a while, especially in that small of a space."

"I'm the same way. I should've told those two to hold off on inviting so many people," the boy admitted. He briefly stood behind you to help you slip on the outerwear before taking a spot next to you by the railing.

"No, it's okay. I know how Taehyung and Jimin can get carried away when they plan something together. They were just excited and went overboard. Besides," you looked over your shoulder to peer past the door, "it looks like they're enjoying themselves, so it's all worth it."

The boy turned to look where your gaze was directed at, although he first admired the way your lips were tilted upwards as you watched your best friends dancing around in the living room with some of the other guests. Currently, Taehyung was trying to convince Seokjin to join him on the makeshift dance-floor between your furniture.

"This was supposed to be for you, though, (Y/N). It means nothing if you're not comfortable. If you're not enjoying yourself."

You turned your attention back to Yoongi, considering his point and then saying, "I'm comfortable. I feel comfortable out here with you, where it's much quieter other than the street noises below. You make me feel comfortable, Yoongi."

Despite the chilly December temperature, Yoongi's face never felt more warmed.

"You make me feel comfortable too, (Y/N)," he whispered. He saw your expression change as he spoke; you now looked genuinely content than how you were acting inside.

You maintained eye contact with the boy in front of you, taking in every feature on his face; the way his eyes looked in the moonlight, the small roundness of his nose, his cheekbones slightly flushed, his lips.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find Min Yoongi attractive. From the moment you first saw him, you had been entranced by his performance on the piano; and it grew every minute after. Beginning to learn more about him as a person just made your admiration grow stronger.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but could I kiss you?"

Your eyes widened for a split second as you processed the words leaving Yoongi's mouth, but you found yourself nodding before you could verbalize your thoughts.

Yoongi brought his hand gently to the side of your face, grazing your hair out of the way before he leaned in to connect your lips. His hand was cold from standing outside, but his lips were hot; you relished in the feeling of moving your mouth against his. He tasted slightly of beer but smelled of vanilla and musk.

You finally parted but kept your bodies close. You noticed how your hand made its way to his arm while his other one was delicately resting on your waist.

"Was that okay?" Yoongi timidly asked, not removing his gaze from you, your noses barely brushing.

"That was wonderful, Yoongi. The best birthday present," you smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his torso.

"I can think of something better," he began, taking in the cute tilt to your head as you questioned his thoughts. "How about I take you out for dinner later this week. Does Saturday night work for you?"

You hummed like you were in deep thought, earning a light chuckle from the boy in your arms. "Tomorrow? I'll agree to dinner on one condition."

"And what might that be?"

You smoothed your thumb against his side, suddenly taking an interest in the collar of his jacket, "Could you kiss me again on Saturday?"

Now Yoongi was the one to pretend to be in profound consideration, finally replying, "I guess you'll have to wait to find out. But the odds seem likely. I like you a lot, (Y/N)."

"Good," you giggled, pulling him closer into your embrace, "I like you too. Otherwise, that whole interaction would have been uncomfortable."

Yoongi squeezed you back and smiled at your words, already wanting to kiss you once more without waiting for Saturday.

••