#to try and find out who to contact about it

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (five)

requested here; (one); (two); (three); (four)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired); college!au word count: 5k

Ps: enjoy the fluff bc i might have an epiphany and bring the angst back full force 🥰

It had been days since the talk, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. You sat on your couch, staring blankly at your textbook, trying to convince yourself you were focusing on your work, but let’s be real—you weren’t.

You were thinking about him.

The guy who, just two days ago, basically admitted he had feelings for you—and, to your own surprise, you admitted you felt something too. That whole conversation felt surreal. 

It was terrifying in the moment—standing there, in the library after your lunch date with Nate, both of you avoiding eye contact like the plague until one of you finally broke the silence.

And now what? What was supposed to happen next?

You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. Your mind kept remembering how everything felt different now. Like, way different. You couldn’t look at Rafe the same way, couldn’t just be around him without wondering if he was thinking about it too—the kiss, the feelings, the whole thing. 

And then, of course, there were Ava and Harper, who were way too invested in your love life now. Every time you and Rafe were in the same room, they’d shoot each other these obnoxious grins, making over-the-top kissy faces behind his back. Could they be more obvious?

As if on cue, Harper burst through the front door, Ava trailing right behind her.

“Okay, we need details,” Harper said, dropping her bag and plopping down next to you.

“Yeah,” Ava chimed in, sitting on the arm of the couch. “You’ve been weirdly quiet about it for days, and we know something’s up.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “There’s nothing to tell. We talked. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Harper raised an eyebrow. “You two pretty much confessed you like each other. That’s not nothing!”

“Yeah, and now it’s weird,” you muttered, pushing your hair back, trying to find the words for everything that had been running through your mind since that day. “We’re supposed to be friends, you know?”

Ava exchanged a knowing look with Harper. “Sweets, nothing about having feelings for someone is uncomplicated. And besides, this is Rafe we’re talking about. You two hated each other—now you’re into each other. That’s a lot to process.”

“I know.” You chewed on your lip, feeling a little more exposed than you wanted to in that moment. “I just don’t know how to act around him. Before, we could just hang out, and it was fine, and now I’m wondering if he’s thinking about it every second like I am. And what happens if this thing between us doesn’t work?”

Harper grinned. “Or what if it does work? What if you actually, you know… like being with him?”

You shot her a look. “Stop.”

But Harper wasn’t stopping. “Come on, have you seen the way you look at him?

“I don’t look at him!”

“Oh yes you do,” Ava said, laughing when you threw a pillow at her, “You even drool sometimes.”

Harper snorted at her comment. “You totally do, like, the ‘I want to kiss him but I don’t know if I should’ thing with your eyes.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I knew you’d turn it into a whole thing.”

“Because it is a whole thing!” Ava said, grabbing the pillow you’d thrown and tossing it back at you. “You and Rafe! I mean, come on, this is literally the plot of every teen drama ever.”

You peeked up at her from between your fingers. “Except this isn’t TV.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? You like him, he likes you. Just date already.”

“He didn’t ask me, did he?” You grumble.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about.”

“Oh my god, it’s not about that,” you said, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt your face heat up. Of course they caught that.

You knew why Rafe hadn’t asked you out yet. It wasn’t like he was just being slow or clueless. He was literally waiting because you had told him to. You’re the one who said you needed time to figure yourself out, to see if this was really what you wanted. And he respected that. So, technically, this was all on you.

Still, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. Sure, you asked for time, but now that you had it? You were just overthinking everything and driving yourself nuts. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want him to ask, because, oh my god, you did. 

You were just being pissy for no real reason, sitting here annoyed that he was actually doing what you’d asked him to do. Classic.

You groaned, sinking further into the couch cushions. “I’m such an idiot.”

Harper grinned, clearly enjoying your self-inflicted pain. “Yep. But at least you’re self-aware.”

Ava, ever the voice of reason, patted your knee. “Look, you said you needed time. He’s respecting that, which is honestly kind of amazing. Most guys would’ve freaked out or bailed, but Rafe’s giving you space. That’s a good thing.”

“I know,” you said, exasperated. “I just… I don’t even know what I’m waiting for anymore. What am I trying to figure out? I already like him. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Harper interrupted. “You’re scared?”

“I’m not scared,” you snapped, then immediately sighed. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“Rafe’s not some random hookup,” Ava said softly. “If anything, you guys have been building this thing without even realizing it. He’s not going anywhere, so stop psyching yourself out.”

“Exactly. Just text him and say, ‘Hey, I changed my mind. Let’s go out,’” Harper suggested with a mischievous smirk. “I bet he’ll be here in five minutes, tops. I’ve seen the way he looks at you too."

That was the part that got you.

Rafe Cameron, the guy who used to roll his eyes at you back home, now couldn’t seem to stop looking at you like you were the only person in the room. And you… you liked it. A lot.

Ava nudged you, her grin widening as she pulled out her phone. “Speaking of, is he coming over?”

“Not today,” you mumbled, grabbing your phone to check it anyway.

 No new messages.

“Ugh, you two are impossible,” She groaned, crossing her arms. “When are you going to tell him you actually like him? Like the actual words?

“Yeah, and when are you going to stop playing it so cool?” Harper added.

You scoffed. “You think I’m playing it cool? I literally have no idea what I’m doing.”

Just then, your phone buzzed in your lap. You glanced down and saw Rafe’s name on the screen.

Rafe:  want to grab dinner tonight?

Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. Ava leaned over your shoulder, reading the text, while Harper grinned like she was plotting your wedding already.

“Dinner, huh?” Harper teased. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, though the idea didn’t sound so bad. “It’s probably just… I don’t know. He wants to talk about the whole feelings thing.”

Ava let out a high-pitched squeal, and Harper started making kissy faces. “Ooooh, talk,” she teased, drawing out the word with an exaggerated wink, “Trust me, it’s a date.”

“Oh my God!” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at them, “You’re so fucking annoying.” You sighed, standing up and grabbing your phone. “If this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you two.”

Harper beamed. “You’ll thank us later.”

You weren’t sure how you got from your doorm to the restaurant, but there you were, standing in front of Rafe as the two of you waited for a table. This wasn’t the easygoing banter you’d grown used to during study sessions or late-night hangouts. This was… different.

Rafe stood next to you, looking as calm and collected as ever. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. Meanwhile, your stomach was doing somersaults.

He looked good—like, stupidly, unfairly, make-your-heart-pound-in-your-throat good. The kind of good that made you stop breathing. He was wearing a charcoal grey Henley shirt, the kind you never imagined him in, but now you couldn’t stop imagining it. It clung to his chest and arms in a way that had your mouth watering, showing off his muscular frame more than any of his usual polos ever did.

You swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but directly at him. But it was impossible to ignore how the sleeves hugged his biceps, or how the soft fabric stretched just slightly across his broad shoulders. Even his hair, usually tousled in a “couldn’t care less” kind of way, looked effortlessly perfect tonight, like he was trying to kill you.

And then he caught you looking.

A slow, knowing grin spread across his face as his eyes met yours, like he could read every thought running through your head. "You good?"

You snapped out of it, blinking quickly, "Yeah, fine," you mumbled, though you were definitely not fine. Not with him standing there looking like he just stepped out of a magazine ad.

"Uh-huh," he said, clearly unconvinced, the smirk on his lips only growing wider. "You sure? You’ve been staring for a while."

You flushed instantly, the heat rising to your cheeks. "I wasn’t staring!"

"Right," Rafe drawled, stepping closer, "If you say so."

The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing to you. That stupid Henley. He had to know. The server reappeared out of nowhere, "Table for two? Right this way!" she chirped with perfect timing.

You let out a sigh of relief, quickly stepping past Rafe, feeling your heart slow just a little. The place was packed, like it always was—one of those busy pizzerias where you could barely hear yourself think because of all the noise. The smell of freshly baked dough and melted cheese were in the air.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as you followed the server, clearly amused, “Why are you walking so fast?” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear. You shot him a quick look over your shoulder. 

The server led you to a cozy corner booth near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t fancy—far from it, actually. The table was slightly sticky, the chairs mismatched, and there was a stack of menus with creases on the edges already waiting for you. You loved it, it reminded you of home somehow.

He slid into the booth across from you, sitting with that same infuriatingly relaxed posture, his eyes never leaving you. "Guess we lucked out with a table," he said casually, picking up a menu.

You nodded, grateful for the noise of the restaurant “Yeah, it’s packed tonight.”

As you read the menu, trying to focus on pizza toppings instead of how good he looked across from you, you couldn’t help but feel the nerves start to fade just a little. It wasn’t fancy, and maybe that was the point. It was just dinner. Just the two of you. You could handle that... right?

"Do you always take this long to pick pizza toppings?" he teased, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. His pretty eyes flickered between you and the menu like this was some kind of game, one you were definitely losing.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the grin that pulled at the corner of your lips. "Sorry, I’m just trying to make sure I don’t ruin this life-altering decision. I know how you feel about your pizza."

That earned you a chuckle. God, why was it so attractive? You forced yourself to stare at the menu again, but your brain was mush. Every time you tried to focus on mozzarella, all you could think about was his stupid smirk and how his arms looked ridiculously good in that shirt. It was casual, but on Rafe? Casual somehow felt dangerous. And yeah, he was dangerous—at least to your heart rate.

"Pepperoni and jalapeño," he said suddenly, his voice dropping like he was letting you in on a secret. "Trust me, it’s the best combo."

"Spicy," you quipped, arching an eyebrow. "Trying to impress me, Cameron?"

Rafe’s smirk deepened, and his eyes did that thing—that thing where they darkened just a little, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you. "If I wanted to impress you, I wouldn’t be ordering pizza."

“Right, kook king and all.”

Rafe just raised an eyebrow, “I’m not that guy anymore, you know. Or have you not noticed?”

Oh, you’d noticed.

How could you not? Rafe had always been the guy you were supposed to avoid. The entitled, rich kid who would’ve scowled at you in disgust not too long ago. But now, here you were, sitting across from him in some hole-in-the-wall pizza place, trying not to melt into a puddle under his attention.

“You’re still a kook,” you pointed out, mostly because teasing him felt safer than admitting you actually liked this version of him.

He shrugged casually, eyes locked on yours. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re here, does it?”

You swallowed, trying to stay unaffected by how close he was, the way his voice lowered like the conversation was suddenly just for the two of you. “No, it doesn’t.”

He leaned back, his grin softening. “You’re thinking too much.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “How do you know that?”

“Because you always do.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re always overthinking everything.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been spiraling. It was like you couldn’t just let yourself feel whatever this was without worrying about what would happen next. Whether this thing with Rafe would blow up in your face like a bad movie plot or—worse—turn into something you couldn’t handle.

Jus as his warm smile started to settle you, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.

“Uh, hey? What’s going on here?”

You froze. 

No way. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

Nate.

Rafe’s eyes moved from you to the figure standing just behind you.

Great.

You slowly turned in your seat, Nate was standing there, looking between the two of you. This was bad. So bad. 

“Nate,” you started, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Nate said, his brows knitting together as he glanced between you and Rafe. “You said you were busy with school stuff tonight.”

You winced. You had told him that. Because technically, you didn’t lie— you had planned on studying, but then Rafe texted you, and well… one thing led to another. And now here you were, on what very much felt like a date, with Nate staring at you like you’d just ripped his heart out. A little bit dramatic.

Rafe, still lounging casually in the booth, watched the whole thing with a raised eyebrow, clearly sizing Nate up, like he always did. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way he didn’t like this one bit—he was waiting for you to explain, waiting to see how you’d handle this.

“I—um…” You fumbled for words, your brain short-circuiting under the weight of the awkwardness. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you. This is… Rafe and I were just—”

“Just having dinner,” He cut in smoothly, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tensing as he looked at Rafe. “Right. And how long has this been going on?”

You could hear the accusation in his voice, and it made your stomach twist. Nate wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d been hanging out—nothing serious, but enough that this looked pretty bad from his perspective.

“Nate, it’s not like that,” you tried to explain. What could you even say right now?

Rafe glanced at you, one eyebrow quirking up like he was daring you to say more. “You don’t owe him an explanation.”

Except you kinda did because you felt like you’d been leading Nate on. You owed him something, even if it was just a proper way to end whatever this was between the two of you.

Nate crossed his arms. “Seems like there’s something to explain, though. I mean, you’ve been acting weird ever since we went to lunch the other day, and now I see you out with him?” He gestured toward Rafe, “So what is this? Are you guys a thing now?”

“Nate…” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you, but I don’t think this is going to go where you’re hoping it will.”

Nate blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Oh.” His voice dropped, and he looked away for a moment. You felt like a bitch. You’d been the one to start persuing him and now you were doing this. 

“Yeah, I guess that clears it up,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes moved back to Rafe, and his expression hardened again. “Just watch out for him, alright?” His voice was stiff, but he wasn’t looking at you when he said it.

He was staring straight at Rafe, who didn’t flinch, just glared right back, his posture still cool, but his jaw tightened. “You don’t need to worry about her,” He said evenly, “I’ve got it covered.”

Nate clenched his fists but then shook his head with a sharp exhale. “Whatever. Take care, okay?” He shot you one last look, and you could see the disappointment there before he turned and walked away.

For a long moment, you just sat there, staring after him, feeling the guilt built in your chest. That had been brutal. Maybe you hadn’t handled things with Nate perfectly, but you hadn’t meant to hurt him like that.

Rafe, on the other hand, didn’t seem phased by Nate’s little number. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, like he was checking in.

You nodded slowly, though you didn’t entirely feel okay. “Yeah… just didn’t expect that.”

“Seems like he’s got it bad for you.”

You shot him a look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little. But you didn’t answer his question.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What question?”

Rafe tilted his head. “Are we a thing?” Oh god. The way he was looking at you right now—it wasn’t just playful anymore. It was real, and serious. “Well?” 

You took a deep breath, “I guess we are.”

It was like he needed to hear you say it, to own it. "Guess?" he repeated.

"Yeah, I guess we are," you said, more firmly this time. But the second the words left your mouth, you realized you didn’t really “guess.”

You knew. You’d known for a while now, ever since those late-night conversations, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You weren’t just some fling to him. And that terrified you.

He leaned forward across the table, just close enough that you could catch a hint of his perfume. His hand reached across the table, fingers brushing lightly against yours. It was such a simple touch, but it felt like everything. Like the start of something. You wanted to say something—anything—but your brain had gone completely blank, and all you could do was stare back at him, trying to understand what the hell was happening.

Then, without warning, he shifted in his seat, his long arms reaching across the small table, getting closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Before you could sutter out something stupid, his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you toward him until your lips met.

It wasn’t tentative or slow. It was like he had made up his mind a long time ago, like this was something he’d been waiting to do. It wasn’t deep or drawn out, but it didn’t need to be. You could feel the strength of his hand at your neck, his fingers just barely threading through your hair, like he had some invisible line of control over you, but it wasn’t demanding or forceful. You just knew was holding back, knowing this wasn’t the place for more.

When he pulled back—just an inch—you could still feel his breath against your lips. His eyes stayed on yours, his thumb lightly brushed the nape of your neck and you felt like you were still leaning forward, chasing more even though you knew you couldn’t have it.

It was quick—barely a few seconds—but it left you completely breathless. “Told you, you overthink too much,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear, like it was your little secret.

The next day felt oddly normal, like nothing monumental had happened the night before—except it had. You were walking across campus with him now, books in hand, making easy conversation about random things. No one knew about you two yet—not officially, at least.

As you approached the doors to your building, Rafe slowed down. You weren’t even thinking about it, just caught up in the rhythm of your walk and the conversation, until suddenly he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

It wasn’t premeditated or dramatic—just an automatic gesture, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You eyes widened as you remembered exactly where you were: standing right outside your class building, in the middle of campus, where anyone could see. The kiss had felt so casual, so… normal, like he did it all the time. Like you were his and he didn’t care who saw.

He pulled away just as quickly as he’d kissed you, his lips curving into a smirk as he gave you a nod. “See you later sweets,” he said as if he hadn’t just left you completely flustered. Then he turned and walked off, completely oblivious that you were standing there, still processing what had just happened.

You blinked, trying to collect yourself, when you heard it: high-pitched squeals from just a few feet away.

“Oh my God, oh my GOD!” Harper’s voice was practically a screech.

You looked up to find both her and Ava standing by the door to your classroom, wide-eyed and grinning like they’d just witnessed the biggest scandal of the year.

“No way,” Ava gasped, her hands clapping over her mouth, her eyes darting from you to where Rafe had just walked away. “Did that just happen? Did he just kiss you, right in front of everyone?!”

Harper was already losing it, jumping up and down in excitement, her curls bouncing around her face. “I can’t believe this—finally! FINALLY!”

Your face flushed instantly as you looked between your two best friends. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—” you started, but they were having none of it.

“Not a big deal?!?” Ava cut in, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you serious?!”

“Literally, he didn’t even hesitate!” Harper added, her hands dramatically flying to her head. “That was so hot! I’m obsessed with this. I need details. What the hell happened last night?”

You groaned, trying to hide the ridiculous grin creeping onto your face. “It’s not—okay, fine, it kind of is a big deal, but can you guys not freak out about it? We haven’t even talked about what this is yet. It's a thing."

Ava’s jaw dropped. “You don’t need to talk! He just kissed you!” She looked like she was about to burst from excitement. “Oh my God, this is so cute, I’m literally dying.”

Harper, still vibrating with energy, grabbed your arm and started pulling you toward the door. “We are so talking about this more later. This is the best day ever.”

After class, you three claimed a table near the windows at the cafeteria. You were mid-laugh, picking at your food, when you finally spilled all the details about last night.

“So, get this,” you sai, “Nate just showed up. Like, out of nowhere. I’m sitting there with Rafe, and then suddenly, boom—He’s standing right in front of us, asking what the hell is going on.”

Harper’s eyes widened, a piece of lettuce dangling from her fork. “No way. No way! And you told him—?”

“I basically had to reject him right then and there,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I felt so bad. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything, but still, it was awful.”

Ava gasped dramatically, smacking the table with her hand. “Holy shit, I wish I could’ve seen his face.”

You winced, nodding. “Yeah, he was… not happy. But it’s not like I could’ve kept leading him on. I didn’t mean for it to happen in front of Rafe, though.”

“Oh my God, I bet he was loving it,” Harper said, leaning forward with a wicked grin. “He just sat there, didn’t he?”

“Pretty much,” you laughed, shaking your head. “He didn’t say a word until Nate started getting all protective.”

Harper snorted, “It’s so classic. But seriously, how did Nate even find you guys? Was he stalking you or something?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I think it was just a really bad coincidence. I feel like such an asshole, but it’s not like I could just—”

“Ladies.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of that voice, and you almost dropped your fork. Rafe was standing right there, looming over your table like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ava muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing playfully as she glanced between you and him.

Harper, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back in her chair “Hey, Cameron. We were just talking about you. Pull up a seat.”

He smirked, clearly picking up on the tone of the conversation, but didn’t hesitate to slide into the empty chair next to you. 

“All good things, I hope,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.

You shot him a look, “When have I ever spoken highly of you?”

“Awww, missed you too.” he said, smirking as he grabbed a fry off your plate like he’d been part of the conversation the whole time.

“Stop eating my fries,” You scowled, he just shrugged, popping the fry in his mouth like it was no big deal. “I’m gonna smack you,” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “Can you at least get your own fries?”

He smirked, “Why would I do that when I can steal yours?”

Harper let out a dramatic sigh, clasping her hands together. “I love this for you guys. Truly. I can’t wait for the wedding.”

You groaned, throwing a napkin at her, "You’re ridiculous."

Rafe just chuckled, grabbing one last fry. “I think I’m gonna like hanging out with your friends.”

Ava gave you a sly look before turning to him. “Okay, since you’re here now, and we’ve got you trapped—let’s get to the important stuff. What exactly are your intentions with our girl?”

You closed your eyes wanting to sink into the floor.

“Are we talking dates? Or are you planning to ask her out for real?”

Harper leaned forward, clearly invested. “Yeah, Rafe. What’s the hold-up? When’s the official girlfriend status happening?”

You could feel your face heating up, and you shot them both an exasperated look. “Guys, seriously? We’re doing this now?”

Rafe, however, looked completely unbothered by the question as he glanced at you. “I was going to ask her when the time felt right,” he said, “But if you’re so eager, maybe I should just ask her now.”

The entire table fell silent. Ava and Harper exchanging shocked glances, their eyes lighting up with excitement. You, on the other hand, were doing your best not to choke on the air around you.

“Wait, what?” you stammered, wide-eyed, not entirely sure if he was serious or just messing with you.

“You heard me.”

Ava let out a squeal, covering her mouth. “Oh my God, this is happening!”

“Are you seriously asking me that right now? In front of them?”

Harper was practically vibrating in her seat. “Yes, Rafe! Ask her! We need a moment to remember forever!”

“No,” You glared at your friends, “If you ask me to be your girlfriend while you’re munching on those greasy fries, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Rafe just laughed, wiping his hands on a napkin “Yes ma’am.”

What even was this? He had this uncanny ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. And the fact that he could make your friends—the two people who knew you best and knew the history between you two—just as obsessed with him as you secretly were? That was dangerous. 

Harper, never one to let a moment die, leaned over the table, her voice all conspiratorial. “You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like that.”

Ava grinned. “Oh, it so is. Just embrace it, babe.”

Rafe tilted his head, giving you that look .“You gonna keep denying it?”

You felt yourself blush, but you weren’t about to give them all the satisfaction of a full confession. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on your teasing. “Guess I’ll have to make that moment happen soon then.”

Ava let out a dreamy sigh. "I love love."

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König

Probably can't write a full series for this but for now HEADCANNONS

He initially moved to a residential/suburban area because of his need for privacy. He couldn't stand being in barracks provided because it's too close for comfort and there's just too many people and not enough room

He grew up in a rural village which he would really, greatly prefer but his job doesn't allow him to have that amount of space and no neighbors. The upkeep would be too much

While he doesn't have the full amount of space he'd like, it's enough to keep him busy when he's not deployed and grant him the piece of mind he needs

When he's home and in his 'residential/domestic' mode, he's not wearing the mask. That's a quick way to signal him out and lets be real, it sets off red flags. He'd rather not have the police called on what looks like a very suspicious man, thanks.

Not wearing the mask is also a good way for him to come off of 'work' mode, where he can just be himself, no covering that up.

Plus it's for safety. He knows he's taking a risk by living off of base and he's a man with many enemies. Wearing something trademarked to him in an unprepared environment is a dumb idea and is a great way to end up six feet under

His front yard is pretty minimal but he has a lovely garden in the back. Half the reason he settled on the house that he did was because of the mature trees in the backyard that reminded him of home

When you moved in, König - as much as he didn't want to, made the move to introduce himself. The main motivator wasn't out of politeness but rather necessity. Since he's away for so long, he gives out his personal number and email just in case something happens with the house

He's genuinely surprised when you react positively and even ask if there's anything he'd like you to do when he's away (like collecting his mail, watering any plants)

He's so stumped by that, not having expected such hospitality, that when you ask for his name as you enter in his contact info, his brain short circuits. He tells you it's Kevin, because it's the first K name he could think of that wasn't distinctly Germanic.

Also he doesn't want to bring anyone into his work life. He moved out into the suburbs for a reason. König is who he is on field, that's his callsign. And, once again - safety reasons. If he went around, telling people who he was, he's asking to get another target painted on his back

Though you two initially don't really talk much, you still wave when you see him or wish him a good morning. Even if he's blunt and usually brusque, you never mind it and always try to make polite conversation while respecting his boundaries and need for space

Seeing each other in the mornings becomes routine. You're up for work while he's up tending to his garden (it's better to water early morning, he insists)

He's slow to warm up but when he finally does, he's surprisingly talkative

He really opened up to you because you showed express interest in his garden and flowers alike. You always listened to his advice or would ask specific questions to get him talking and when it came to explaining things, he could talk and talk and talk

The moment he was won over though was when you asked if he'd like help weeding his garden. Taking care of it was therapeutic to him (as tedious as it might be) and wanting to actually come over and spend time with him, even if it was a "chore" made him feel something that day

Being allowed into his yard, his botanical sanctuary, is as great of an award as you can get

He finds it significantly easier to talk when his hands are busy and when there can always be things to talk about (mainly his plants, he's so proud)

You learn of his plants, the fact that he's a private contractor (he conveniently leaves out the military part), and he'll start to actually talk about himself instead of avoiding questions for once

If it weren't from exertion reddening his face already, he's sure he would've turned as red as his tomatoes when you inquired about the off handed comment about his miniatures collection

No one had ever asked him about them - or actually taken them seriously. He's used to people making fun of such hobbies

But not you, you embraced him

Seeing your face light up with amazement and hearing your specific comments about the details he made in replicas of things such as his hometown and some of the fairytale stories he liked as a kid officially had his heart feeling the warm, fuzzy feelings that he usually ignored

The next morning, he was already planting your favorite flowers in his front yard 🪻

(Part Two)

[twice-my-age-simp]

You can't be with her!

KateBishopxFem!reader, WandaNatxDaughter!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, fluff, smut, making out, strap-on, top!Kate

Summary: Your moms found out about your relationship with Kate and are not happy with it. They want to keep you safe, unintentionally hurting you while doing that.

Notes: Sorry for my long absence. Here's a new one shot for you. I think it's the longest work I've ever written so far. Enjoy reading this piece.

Word count: 5.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew you were in trouble. It was obvious. Especially after they broke into the house and you saw a very angry ex-assassin and a very pissed witch in the living room. But, let’s start from the beginning ‘cause what a story it is.

 

8 hours earlier

 

“No, there is no way.” your mom said firmly, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. You stood up from your chair and walked closer to her.

“Why? You can’t just do that.” you fighted back. You couldn’t believe this is happening and centrally won’t let it become the truth. You love your moms and you know they always try to do what’s best for you, but this time they were in the wrong.

“I can and I just did. You can’t see Kate anymore.” Nat said with a stern look, tightening her jaw. You turned from her to your other mom. “Mama, won’t you say anything?” you asked, a pleading look on your face.

Wanda, who was standing and listening to the conversation this whole time, walked closer to her wife. “Y/N, sweety, we’re just looking out for you.” she answered gently. You felt absolutely helpless, hurt and angry.

“You can’t make this decision for me. It’s my life and my relationship.” you spoked, hoping that they will change their minds. 

“You are our daughter and still a child. It is as we say.” Nat added, not backing up. It’s hard to fight an assassin, even if it is not a physical fight. “Listen, we don’t want to be the bad guys here or make your life miserable. It’s just..” Nat signed. “Kate is an Avenger. This job is very dangerous and being with her can put you in life threatening danger. It’s already risky considering that you are our daughter.“

“I’m not a child anymore, I’m 21 years old. Nothing bad will happen to me. Please, I love her. Y-you can’t do that.” your eyes started to fill up with tears, your voice’s slowly breaking.

“I’m sorry, but that’s final.” Hearing that, you rushed to your room, locking yourself in it. You threw yourself on your bed and started crying.

Everything was good before. Your moms didn’t know about your relationship. You successfully kept it from them for a little over a year, always saying that you were going out with some friends. But of course, they had to walk in on you and Kate making out in the training room when you were visiting the Avengers in the compound, because they had some stuff to take care of. Nat immediately took you to the car. The drive home was silent, but when you got inside, they started saying that you needed to end things with Kate for “your own good”.

You picked up your phone, opened contacts and dialed the phone number. It was three rings after that the person answered. “Hi, Y/N.” said the angelic voice on the other side. It was all it took you to utter a sob, breaking down more from just hearing her. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Does it have something to do with your moms finding out about us?” Kate asked with a concerned tone. You didn’t want to tell her about your fight because it would make it true and you couldn’t let that happen. However, Kate deserves to know. Maybe you can come up with a solution and everything will be great again. At least you hoped so.

“Kate-” you sobbed. “They want me to break up with you.” you cried out. Silence enveloped the room. You didn’t know if it was because she hung up or she was shocked. Pulling the phone from your ear, you looked at the screen; okay, she’s still there. “Kate? Please, say something.”

After a few seconds, you heard her say, you think she’s also crying. “I don’t know what to say.” she cleared her throat and added. “There’s nothing I can do? Maybe they can still change their mind?”

“I don’t think so.” You said. The truth is, if there was anything that would change this, you would already do it. Sad reality hit you. Your moms don’t want you to be with Kate. Then you wondered if it was even important to you. I mean, of course, you want them to approve of your relationship, but they don’t. They just don’t understand that she’s the love of your life. Your whole heart. Your everything. At that moment, you made up your mind. “You know what? I don’t care what they say; I want to be with you. I love you, Kate. ” you said, determined, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Your moms are not gonna come in between your love life. You won’t let them.

“I love you too and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Are you sure, though? I mean, they are your moms. I don’t want your relationship with them to be destroyed because of me.” Kate said, her voice slowly quieting. You can’t help but feel your heart grow bigger with love for her if it is still even possible. She cares about you so much, you couldn’t be more sure about your decision.

“Yes, I want to be with you forever, Katie.” you said truthfully. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I can’t imagine my life without you too. What are we gonna do about your moms?” she asked.

“I don’t know, yet.” you said. You didn’t like to lie to your moms, but in this case, you feel like you have to. “Maybe we can meet up today? I can say that I need to go for a walk to clear my mind or something. You can park your car a few streets away.” you said hopefully. “Sure, be there in an hour.” With that, you ended the call.

Kate will be here in an hour, so you intend to spend this time on getting ready. You had to wear something not too fancy for a walk but not too ugly for a hangout with your girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, after all this time you’ve been together, you still can’t believe you get to call her that. It makes your heart flutter every time.

After some time of thinking about what to wear and getting mentally ready to lie to your moms, you were ready to leave. Walking down the stairs, you opt to look upset, but without it looking weird. You know it is hard to lie to a witch and an ex-assassin.

You slowly made your way to put on some shoes when someone called from behind. “And where are you going, young lady?” You turned to see Nat with her arms crossed. “I hope it isn’t the girl I clearly said is dangerous for you to hang out with.” She said sternly.

That got your blood boiling. “If you want to know, I’m going for a walk to clear my head, because my mother said I can’t be with the love of my life!” You shouted, tears started to well up again. Nat stood a little shocked at the outburst but quickly recovered. “Quit the tone; you know I do this for your safety. I just want to protect you.” She said the last part a little softer.

“Whatever.” You said and walked out of the house, shutting the door.

You turned left and started going down the street; hopefully Kate is already there. As you walk, you make yourself slightly more presentable, fixing the hair and wiping the tears that once again started to flow because of the encounter with your mom. Turning left, you see Kate’s car parked on the side of the road. Smiling, you increased your speed and got into the car.

“Hi-” Kate didn’t manage to greet you because you immediately pulled her by her shirt into a long, passionate kiss. Your fist, full of the fabric, pulled Kate closer. Her hands flew to grip the back of your neck. Both missed the physical contact. Your lips, made to fit like two pieces, were moving against each other, stealing breath. Your lungs started to feel like they were on fire, but that didn't stop you from giving yourself to Kate in that kiss.

After a few minutes, you pull away from the kiss but still keep close to Kate. Your hand full of her shirt slightly loosens, yet the grip is still there. “Sorry, I just really missed you.” You said, looking down flustered. Finally, your eyes moved up, looking deeply into hers. “Hi.” you added after a moment of silence.

Kate smiled at you. “Hi.” She replied, giggling breathlessly. “I missed you too. So much.” 

It’s so stupid how her smile and the little glint in her eyes can make you all giggly and weak in knees. You know you loved her to the moon and back, you can’t give up on your relationship just because your moms tell you to, not when everything in you is screaming that Kate is the endgame, your endgame.

“Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?” you felt Kate's hands on your face, thumbs wiping your cheeks. You didn't realize that you were crying. Every emotion's built up in you, and right when you saw her, you just had to let it all go. “It's just, I don't want to be away from you. I love you so much and I'm sick of this sneaking out, or my moms telling me that I can’t be with you.” you sniffled, looking into her eyes. “God, you are everything I want. I want to be with you forever. When I think about my future, I see you and me, and I don’t care what our lives will look like as long as we are together; that's everything I want.” You really poured your heart out there. It’s not typical for you to be this vulnerable in front of Kate—actually in front of anyone; you’ve always kept everything to yourself. 

Now that you think of it, you think you might have scared Kate. She’s silent, just staring at you, hands still on your face. You think you blew it, that it was too much for her. After all, you’ve been dating for only a little over a year. Thoughts started to flood your mind, creating the worst scenarios and just when you were about to apologize-

“Marry me.” Kate said, her face not showing any emotions. You were speechless; did you hear it right? Kate asked you to marry her? Well, it wasn’t really a question, more like as if she just admitted to herself that she wants to marry you. Nonetheless, there is still a part of you that believes that you heard it wrong. “What?” You breathed out, your eyes searching for reassurance in hers.

“Marry me.” She repeated more confidently this time as if coming back to life. “I’m serious. I know that we haven’t been dating for long, but I also want to be with you forever. I love you and I don’t want to be with anyone else; you are the only one for me. I want everything with you, I want you. This won’t be easy, but that’s great. Easy is boring.” you both giggled at that. “This is reckless and not normal at all, but let’s just be for real. We are reckless and nothing in our lives is normal, I mean, your moms are a witch and an ex-assassin and I am an Avenger. Nothing ever was normal and nothing will be, and frankly, I love it this way.” Kate ended her heartwarming speech with a big smile on her face, tears now also in her eyes. “So, Y/N Romanoff, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You said matching her smile. “Of course I will marry you.” Pulling the shirt you still had a grip on, you pull Kate into a slow kiss, filled with salty tears. You think you’ve never been so sure about anything in your life. Honestly, that’s all you ever wanted, to marry the love of your life and that is marrying Kate Bishop.

“Good, cause I thought for a second that I went too far.” Kate started to ramble after pulling away. You thought that the best way to stop her from that was to kiss her again. It didn’t last long though, because after a few seconds she pulled back again. She turned so she’s sitting straight, her back to the seat, and started to wave her hands around. “Oh my, I need to buy a ring. God! I’m so unprepared!” You tried to stop her by calling her name, but that didn’t really work.

“Katherine Elizabeth Bishop!” Using her full name did work. She stopped immediately and looked at you. You giggled at her. “You need to stop worrying about that. I want to marry you, not the ring. I don’t need any rings, just you, okay?” Kate looked at you as if looking for clarification, then she cutely tilted her head and pouted and that just made you want to kiss her.

“I know, but I really want to get you a ring. You deserve that, you deserve a big proposal with-with rose petals, a nice dinner and a big diamond ring, not this. A girl who proposes in her car without even a paper ring.” She started having doubts about herself; you could see that. “I love that girl. I don’t need some rich and stuck-up proposal. I couldn’t have imagined it better than this.” You made sure she was looking at you as you said that to her. That was the truth, so you wanted her to believe you.

“Okay.. okay.” Kate clears her throat, then adds. “So, shall we go and get married now?” you both smiled at each other. Reaching for seat belts in order to fasten them, you answered. “Yes, we shall.”

 

It turned out it wasn’t that easy. You had to have witnesses. After some thinking, you reached out to Aunt Yelena, while Kate called Clint. Although it took some convincing to get the old man to drive here because, as he said, he doesn’t want to ‘deal with angry mothers anymore’, whatever that means, he might have been referring to Laura, but you’re not sure; you also think that he really just didn’t want to move his three letters.

Well, eventually, he agreed. Yelena didn’t need this much convincing; well, she didn’t need to be convinced at all. She said she’d be happy to piss off her sister; she mentioned something about getting back at her for borrowing, without her knowing, one of her vests and then destroying it on a mission, but you could have misheard.

Kate got anxious again, but this time about clothing. Both of you wore casual clothes, not right for a marriage. So that’s how you got dragged by Kate for a little shopping. It took you both a while, but in Kate's eyes it was worth it, because now you and her looked good.

It wasn’t long before you and Kate signed up the marriage license with Clint and Yelena next to you, and you were good to go. You bit your goodbyes with them, then made your way to Kate’s car. While you were both sitting, the car still not turned on, you realized what just happened. ”We just got married.” Kate stated firmly, her face not showing any emotions while looking straight ahead. You turned your head to look at her. ”We just got married.” She repeated, now with a big smile on her face. Also turning her head to you, she started to giggle. Hearing her laughter, you started to giggle yourself, also not believing that this is real.

Kate leaned in and brought her hand to the back of your neck to pull your foreheads together. ”You are my wife.” She said breathlessly. ”I am your wife.” You said in the same tone. Your wife pulled you into a long, passionate kiss. ”Damn, your moms are really gonna kill me now” Kate said after pulling away. This caused you both to burst out laughing. “Well, if this is my last hour, how about we make the best of it and go back to mine, my wife?“ She asked with a smirk on her face, clearly insinuating on doing something really not PG. Your cheeks turned slightly red, but you matched her smirk. “Lead the way, my wife.”

You’re sure that your superhero broke a few laws driving you to her apartment. Both of you are very eager and excited for what awaits you there. So as soon as the door was closed, Kate pushed you into it, trapping you between the wooden surface and her. Hands flying to your hips, squeezing and pushing more against the hardwood. Lips mingling with yours fastily, tongue pushing into your mouth, exploring the inside. Next thing you know, she was tagging at your pants, trying to take them off. Once you’re free from them, Kate’s hands traveled from your hips, over your ass, stopping on it for a second to squeeze, and then went downwards to the back of your thighs. With one swift movement, you were pulled from the door for a second, only to be pushed against it again, but this time with your legs around Kate’s waist.

Her kisses moved from your lips to nip at your neck, for sure, leaving lots of hickeys. You leaned your head back, revealing more skin on your neck. The particular bite on your pulse point made you moan. Your hands flew to her hair in order to pull her closer. With a mind full of thoughts about Kate, you breathlessly conhered some words. “B-bedroom… now.” you gasped when suddenly Kate pulled you both away from the door and started to blindly walk towards the bedroom. While you were stumbling across the living room, you threw your bag on the table, or at least you hoped it landed on the table, not caring about stuff inside. Though you’re pretty sure that your bag opened from the impact.

After some struggling, your back hit the bed with Kate on top of you. Lips once again connected, Kate started grinding her hips on yours. Suddenly, you felt it—the hardness underneath her pants. “Is-is that-?” You stuttered, then moaned because Kate pressed herself harder on you, so you feel it against your core.

“Mhm, a new one.” Kate smirked at you and again pushed her hips into yours, making you gasp. She leaned down to your neck and started to mark you everywhere she could. When she got to your pulse point, you moaned and gripped the back of her head, burying your fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. You feel hands tagging at your shirt. With your arms up, Kate swiftly takes off your shirt, leaving you in only your panties and bra. However, it doesn’t take long for her to also remove these undergarments. “So pretty.. so delicious, just for me to taste.” Kate’s hands started to wander.

Wanting to see more of Kate, you unbuttoned her shirt, slid it down her arms and then the shirt joined the rest of the clothes on the ground in the bedroom. Your hands immediately flew to her arms to feel her strong muscles. Then, to her abdomen, where she clearly has abs. “One of many perks of being an Avenger; lots of training that makes you have these muscles.” You stare in awe, biting your lip.

Kate leaned down again and nipped at your skin, making her path from your neck to your chest. She took your left nipple in her mouth, sucking on it hard, while her other hand squeezed the right breast. After some time, she switched the breasts and started sucking on the right one. ”Please, Kate… I want you.. now.” you pleaded.

Not wanting to tease you, just this night, Kate pulled away and took off the rest of her clothes, revealing the strap-on. “Purple?” You chuckle a little.

“What? I look good in purple.” Kate grinned and once again got on top of you. The strap was rubbing against your clit, making you shut your eyes and groan softly. “You want my cock, sweetheart?” Kate asked, rubbing her strap even harder.

“Yes! Please, Kate, I want your cock. Please fuck me.” You desperately rumble, your mind full of thoughts of how she can ruin you. This strap is definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you are willing to try this, considering how wet you are for her.

Kate leaned to your ear to whisper. “As you wish, babygirl.” Right after that, she harshly pushed at least a half of the strap in your pussy. Your moans and grunts get louder as she continues to slide in. “Fuck, baby. Always so tight for me.” You shut your eyes tightly as you feel more and more fuller with every second.

Finally, your hips were flush against each other. Your breath is more ragged as you try to get used to the fullness. “Kate… s-so full, fuck, so big” you moaned. After a few more seconds, Kate started to pull out and thrust her hips forward, causing you to let out a loud scream.

Your moans only encouraged Kate to keep going. The thrusts were much harder now; it made your head spin. You wrapped your arms around her back, burying your nails into it. Kate hissed into your ear from the harsh scratches, but it fuelled her to give you more. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slapping of your hips with every thrust. “Kate- shit… I’m going to-” you are cut off by a hoarse groan that bursts out of your throat when Kate hits one particular place.

“It’s okay. Let go for me, baby.” Kate said breathlessly. That was all you needed, and soon your eyes rolled back. You arched your back into her, threw your head back and let out a silent scream. Kate was still thrusting into you as you were falling over the edge. 

After you calmed down, she slowly pulled out of you. You groaned at the emptiness as you were trying to catch your breath. Kate was peppering your body with soft kisses. When she got up to your face, you smiled at each other. “That- that was incredible.” you said panting. “Glad you liked it, my love.” she pecked your lips. With a swift move, you turned you both over, so Kate was now on her back with you on top of her. “Let me return the favor.” you grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

 *****

You were lying on the bed with your head on Kate’s chest. Your arm around her abdomen, leg between hers. Kate has her arm wrapped around your bare body. The covers were loosely thrown on both of you as you were lying together in your own, quiet bubble.

“You know… I was thinking..” Kate started. You turned your head to look at her and wait for her to continue. “Since we are married now” this made you smile. You still can’t believe that this is real and that Kate is your wife now. “Maybe, if you want… you could move in with me.” your eyes widen at her words. A smile spread across your face. You lifted slightly from the bed to move closer to her and give her a passionate kiss in which you couldn’t stop smiling. The same goes for Kate.

When you pulled out, you looked her in the eyes. “Of course I want to move in with you!” you both had such big smiles on your faces that your cheeks started to ache. “Great! I was scared for a second that you wouldn’t want that. What will you tell your moms, though? Maybe you should-” as Kate continued to rumble, your heart stopped. Shit. Your moms, they don’t know anything, AND you said you were going for a walk, which is now about six hours long. Shit, shit. Your phone has been on silent since you went to get married. They probably called you and texted you a million times.

“Shit, my moms! They have to wonder where I am!” you said cutting her off and quickly got out of bed, panicking. You throw on yourself one of Kate’s hoodies, put on your panties and some Kate’s shorts. At the corner of your eye, you see that Kate also got up and started to get dressed. You left the bedroom and headed towards the living room, where you left your phone in the bag. Just as you walked into the living room space, your heart stopped at the sight.

So, now you know the story behind why an angry witch and a pissed-off ex-assassin broke into the apartment and were standing in the living room. They had their hands on their hips, with scowls on the faces. “Mom, mama-” You were immediately caught off. “Don’t mamas us!” Wanda scoffed. She rarely got angry, she preferred to do things the calm way. However, when she did get angry, oh boy, hide if you can.

They had every right to be angry and you knew it. So you chose to stay silent this time. “Do you want to explain where you’ve been?” Nat asked with her jaw locked tight. “And why, when I called Clint to ask if he knew something about your whereabouts, he said that he doesn’t want to get involved anymore?” this time Wanda spoke. “Or why, when I called Yelena to ask if she knew something, she just laughed and hung up?” Natasha added. It was as if they talked it through, because they were literally changing after one sentence. It was creepy. “You lied to us, went radio silent and met up with the one person we specifically told you not to see!”

The person, as if on cue, came into the living room and stopped dead in tracks. “Mrs. Romanoff and..” Kate cleared her throat “Mrs. Romanoff.” She stood right next to you, her eyes locked on anything but your moms. The thick tension could be cut with a knife. You didn’t know what they would do now, with Kate next to you.

“And here’s the person in the flesh.” stated firmly Natasha, her eyes shooting daggers at Kate. “Mom, please.” you pleaded. You didn’t want this place to turn into a war zone. “Please what? Y/N, we've forbidden you from seeing her and the next thing you did after that was see her! You don-”

“What is that?” Wanda stopped Natasha from further shouting at you as she noticed something. You turned your head where she was looking, and your face turned pale. Wands was looking at the coffee table where you had thrown your bag earlier. The bag opened from the impact and some things fell out of it on the table. One of the things was your and Kate's marriage license. Your heart stuck in your throat as Wanda walked closer to it. She reached for the paper, picked it up and for a moment there was silence. But only for a short moment.

“You got married?!” Wanda shouted, turning to face you and Kate. Now she was really, really angry. Like the kind of angry when she has her eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed so that they are almost touching, and the worst, the little tilt in her head. Now you were fucked. “You what?!” this time Natasha shouted.

“I-... we just..” you wanted to say something, but didn't know what. What do you say in a situation like that, though? It was tough, but fortunately Kate noticed that you were struggling and decided to speak for you. She reached her hand to yours and interlaced your fingers together. Kate cleared her throat, mentally preparing herself for anything that could happen after she spoke. “We did. We got married today.” you didn't think that was possible, but silence was never this loud.

“Why would you do that? And without any of us knowing” Wanda spoke angrily as she handed the married license to Nat.

Natasha read the license, still not believing what she just heard. Her eyes stopped at one point. “Bishop? You changed your last name to Bishop?” Natasha asked in disbelief, interrupting Wanda. “Yeah…” you said, unsure, waiting for the explosion from your parents.

However, there is something else on their faces. Hurt? Disappointment? Sadness? You couldn't tell, but you knew you didn't like it. “Mom, mama, please don't look at me like that.” you said sadly, there is a stone in your heart. “I've never wanted to get married without you there, but I also didn’t want to marry anyone but Kate. And you specifically told me that I can't be with her… I just.. I couldn't let that happen. I just want you to be happy for me.” you reasoned, tears once again pricking in your eyes. You felt Kate's hand smoothing your back, which calmed you a little.

“Mrs. Romanoffs, I really love your daughter. You care about her safety as much as I do. I promise to keep her safe and sound.” Kate calmly said, meaning every word.

Wanda and Nat looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Soon, they turned back to face you and Kate. “Oh God..” Nat groaned, letting out a breath. “Y/N, darling, we didn't want you to feel like that; we just…” she didn't really know how to say it, so Wanda took the wheel. “We just love you so much, we want to keep you safe. However, I admit that we did go a little too far. We shouldn't get between you and Kate.” she says. Your eyes lit up a little, a small smile started to spread on your face. “Does that mean..?” you asked, still not sure you understood what they just said. “Yes, you can see Kate.”

Now you have the biggest smile on your face. You jumped up and down and then pulled your mothers in a hug, squeezing in happiness. Your moms laughed a little and hugged you back. “We love you, darling, and we are happy for you.”

“Thank you. I love you both, very much.” you grinned and pulled away from the hug. You go back to stand next to Kate, whose smile is as big as yours, and interlace your fingers.

“However,” Natasha turned to Kate with a stoic expression. “If you hurt her, I will hunt you down.” Kate started to feel a little nervous again, but tried not to show it. “Of course, I-I would never hurt her; I love her.” she rumbled quickly.

Soon, Wanda and Nat left the apartment, saying that today they will leave you and Kate alone, but tomorrow they want you both at home for dinner.

You went back to bed, lying next to each other. Both of you fell asleep in a loving embrace.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

sometimes out of the blue i remember the fact that murder time trio and bad sans gang isn’t at all canon, and it’s in fact actually just killer alone with his trafficker.

the most nonviolent contact he has with anyone at all is his cats. any nonviolent interaction with nightmare is steeped in yet another mind game, just a different type of game.

he doesn’t trust anyone who attempts to interact peacefully with him so much that he throws around his LV levels to attempt to make them leave him alone via intimidation and plays along if that doesn’t work, as if he doesn’t realize he can just leave the situation or remove himself from it, just waiting for it to escalate into violence.

and if it doesn’t he escalates it to violence himself and takes it as proof that thats always how it was going to end when they of course try to defend themselves against him and react with hostility to him hurting them or their loved ones.

because he’s so busy anticipating when someone is going to try to kill him or fight him or hurt him to appreciate let alone trust that anyone wont, and if they claim they won’t, then he finds it hard to believe they don’t want to. especially if they keep insisting on interacting with him even after he’s shown that he is a threat and doesn’t want to interact with them.

as if every single interaction he ever has is just eventually going to end with one person dying or hurting, and anything before that is all just an act, and he’d really appreciate it if they just stop boring him with the frivolous pointless games and get right to it—at least then it’d be more entertaining.

anyway I was thinking about the killer vs swap comics again if you couldn’t tell.

[kiddiesmores]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐝𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: bello! this is the prequel to the college ted smut fic LOLL, this is gonna be a cute little series. more headaconish if anything, everyone say thank you @michibap !! this series is less edited, and i’ll talk abt them as i please, but if you ask for more i’ll probably tell u more abt them so, you never know. ok enjoy!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutty towards the end.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

and as always!! dividers by @cafekitsune

Ted was the RA of your hallway yalls freshman year

At your first meeting you kinda sat in the chair with your roommate next to you a little geeked out

Those stupid glasses and collared shirt had a grip on you it really did

But outside of the occasional room check (which he literally does nothing but stand and look side to side before leaving) you don’t see him much

However on your walk home from your friend's dorm across campus, your roommate gave you a heads up that she’s having a person over, and if you could stall an extra 30 minutes or so that would be great.

Whatever, you’ll hang out in the common area

That was at 9pm. It’s 11.

And you’ve blown this girls phone up and fucking nothing, and it’s not like you’re not LITERALLY RIGHT OUTSIDE THE ROOM so you know whoever it is hasn’t left yet.

And you’ll be damned if you sleep in room with your roommate and her victim of the week.

So you decide to suck it up and text your friends who’s dorm you were just at and asking if you could sleep on the floor tonight and just bitch at her tomorrow

“You locked out?”

Your angel, saving grace, Ted Nivison

“Nah just um, trying to be a good roommate.” you joke, pointing at the pink scrunchy on the doorknob that your roommate used to signal she has someone of “importance” over

He laughs a bit to himself, “Well, I can keep you company, or better yet kick whoever it is out, yk, can’t have opposite sex over past 10pm and all”

You sigh, “I don’t even know if it’s a man in there or not so, we can hold off on that one”

He sets up next to you on the common area couch, “Then I guess I'm keeping you company.”

Your brow raises, “Don’t you have any RA duties to finish, like i dunno, loud sex complaints or people smoking out their shoe box?”

And he laughs again, you got this man giggling, you’re so in

“I’m off duty now, finished my last walk around so, you want me here or not?”

You pretend to think for a moment, “Yeah, you wanna see pics from my cadaver internship?”

“Forgot I'm on the floor with the freaks.”

From that point on you two were in contact with each other

Walking back from class and checking his door to see if the wheel on his door said he was inside or not before knocking

Always thinking it’s another resident but it’s just you with a bag of chick fil a from the student center and a stupid smile while sweat drips from your forehead

The two of you sitting in his floor sharing fries and discussing class and the drama from your opposing friend groups

Finding out he’s a theater and film kid from all the playbills and movie posters scattered across his single bedroom

Complaining about how it’s been months and you get no play and have to just suffer and live through your roommate

And he’s just eyeing you like 🌝

So yall start hooking up! for the plot

He was kinda waiting for you to just lean over and just start kissing him but a win is a win

Eventually you’d be sleeping over all the time and one night yall are watching a movie on his laptop

And he has an arm around you and just looks down at you like “Are we like?? Dating??” Cause atp it’s been going on for months

And you shrug and you’re like “We can be”

And he’s giddy but tries to stay cool about it

But the cuteness aggression gets to him and he just starts hugging you tight as fuck and rolling around violently and you’re like “bro chill” but you like it so it’s whatever

Fast forward to sophomore year and yall are out of the dorms thank fucking god

Yall end up living in the apartments close to campus where all of your older friends used to stay

But the real issue is debating if you’d wanna live TOGETHER or not

You decided against it because the thought of living with a man is driving you crazy, you get enough testosterone when you see him and schlatt together you don’t need that evil energy near you at all times

Speaking of Schlatt, that dumb ass sigma chi president

When you first met it was when Ted drug you to one of the parties they threw, something about getting the “full college experience” or something who knows

Schlatt approaches you both and he kinda looks at you funny?? So you look at him funny?? But you know that look, you’ve seen it from the girls and twinks in the Fine Arts building whenever you go in and sit with Ted before class starts

He wants your guy and now you’re on guard

You end up going shot for shot with him at the next party to assert your dominance over him but you both just end up drunk and shoeless down the road eating half frozen burritos he took from the house fridge

Ted notices you both are missing and tracks your location and drives to find you both sitting on a curb leaned against eachother

“How the fuck did you guys get here?? And what the fuck are you eating??”

“Rito..” you mumble, mouth full of tortilla and you even hand it to him as a peace offering

He sighs and takes a bite before lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder with a “hff” from you, and looking down to see Schlatt falling over since you were his ledge

“Get up man, you’re embarrassing the hoes” and Schlatts at full attention and stumbling to the car

So yall fucked with eachother after that, hangover the next morning went CRAAZY and yall sent each other snaps back and forth showing how fucked you both looked

When yall decided to get the apartments, schlatt was there, in Ted’s ear about how Tucker and Charlie would be happy to live with them if you didn’t want to

And you look at him like ???? cause since when was he moving into the apartments

“If I stay another year in that house and see those pledges everyday and hear them try to butter me up, I might burn the house down.”

“Type shit”

Even at separate houses Ted still loves to be in yours.

Sleepover? Yeah if it’s in your bed. Wanna fuck? Yeah but only in your bed.

Girl house energy is so much better than chuckle house.

You’ll wake up to him tucked into your side or laid on top of you, face in your neck and snoring softly.

No shirt on, hands on your hips and sleepy mumbling in your ear, you don’t even mind how hot his body temp is because he looks so precious on top of you.

Loves when you rub on his back and whisper his name to wake him up, slowly waking up and squinting at his lack of vision and because of how tired he is before smiling softly when he sees you.

Yall are so codependent it’s sickening.

Loves touching you, like LOVES IT. CRAVES IT.

When you’re out together he will have his hand on yours or hand on your waist or hip.

Hanging out with friends? He needs to be sitting next to you, thighs touching or head resting on top of yours, hands interlocked and kissing your fingers while staring at you softly while you speak.

Mornings after sleepovers he’s stood behind you while you cook or move about in the kitchen, hands around your waist and leaning against you while trying to force himself awake.

“You’re gonna make me trip if you don’t move Ted.” “Buh.”

Off chance you’re at his place, it’s never just you and him time. It’s you, Ted and Schlatt time.

You’re cuddling? Schlatt is sitting at the bottom of the bed or in the office chair at the desk on his phone. You wanna smoke? Schlatt is sat between you both as a footrest for you and someone to lean on for Ted.

Yall have a group chat called “Bottoms n Schlatt”

He always oddly fits in with you two.

You learn that he and Ted had a weird aura when they first met. Not knowing if they were just close friends or wanted each other but inevitably never doing anything about it.

And you only found out when one drunken night at a party you found your boyfriend and schlatt talking oddly close to each other in a corner, giggling and poking at each other while Schlatts hand tightly gripped your boyfriends hip to stop him from running from his playful gnawing.

But you weren’t upset at all! In all honesty it was hot! And it’s not like you and schlatt haven’t fooled around before.

That drunken night as yall sat on the curb was only the beginning.

It’s where he admitted his distaste for you because he thought you were stealing his bestfriend. And how he found you both so attractive it made him mad.

To which you replied, “Type shit” and let him kiss you, only stopping when he pulled back and grumbled about having to throw up, making you go “eugh” and rub his back as he did so.

You told Ted the next morning, a bit guilty as you guys had JUST started dating but he wasn’t phased at all.

“Did you like it?”

“Huh?” you mutter, still twiddling with your fingers anxiously. He smiled sweetly, slowly sliding his hand over to yours to interlock them, leaning in closer. “Did you like kissing him?”

You think for a second, dumbly blinking with slightly widened eyes. “I mean, for the 10 seconds before he had to hunch over I did..” “Eugh..” “I had the same reaction.”

He laughs and kisses your cheek, squeezing your hand before murmuring a low, “M’not mad, I think this is definitely a conversation for all three of us to have though.” To which you nod and softly kiss his lips.

To this day that conversation never happened. You all kinda just hit on each other whenever you were all together.

At a party and talking to Ted while stood next to Schlatt but Schlatt’s hand is on your hip as he sips his drink, and both their eyes are locked on you.

How you and Ted cuddled in an empty room while everyone else went crazy down stairs suddenly shifted to Schlatt sitting in the room with you guys quietly but then turned into all three of you sandwiched together, drunkingly giggling and whispering to eachother.

How you caught them making out in a dark corner and only whined because you wanted to be included.

To which they took turns kissing you while being passed around in their arms.

Multiple pictures in the digicam of you three, the taller two holding you up while you pout or the three of you teasingly sticking your tongues out at each other while the tips touch.

But your personal favorite, was the one of them both between your legs, smiling goofily with glistening lips and dazed eyes, Ted's glasses crooked.

It started off playful, you laid back in Schlatt’s arms and play fighting with ted, small kicks and giggly grunts as you tried to keep him away from you, only for Schlatt to end up holding you down while Ted tickles you.

Once the tickling stopped he’d lean up to kiss you, still between Schlatts legs as you kiss him back, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You let out soft moans, starting to forget that you’re both quite literally between schlatts legs until he lets out a low huff, making you pull back with a trail of spit between your lips to look up at him.

“Well don’t let me stop you.”

Ted’s face ends up buried between your legs with Schlatt’s hands under your sweatshirt toying with your tits and locking you in a hot sloppy kiss, grunting into your mouth when you moan out for Ted.

Pinches your nipples and it makes your back arch, causing Ted to groan and rub his nose against your clit as he eats you out.

Schlatt marks up your neck, huffing in frustration because he needs MORE

Does a weird shuffle to move from under you, confusing you a bit because where are you going??

Regardless he manages to get from under you and lays you against the headboard, walking around to the end of the bed to join Ted between your legs.

Pushes his face over with his hand like “Move over.” “Guh”

Your eyes kinda widen because what are they gonna-oh wow.

TWO MOUTHS???

THEY’RE ALTERNATING

This is a planned attack, has to be.

Regardless you enjoy it, two mouths lapping at your cunt, two mouths to clean up the mess. Efficient!

In your haze you notice the digicam on the bed stand, shakily reaching over to grab it with a wicked smile.

The two of them are rutting against the bed and cleaning you up, Ted whimpering and Schlatts low groaning giving you a good contrast of the two.

“Say cheese boys!” you tease with a playful cunning smile, causing them both to look up and press a cheek to either of your thighs.

Both looking just as pitiful as the other, only difference is Ted’s glasses are all fucked up and he’s way redder than Schlatt is. But they enjoyed it an equal amount!

So yeah y'all are all kinda locked in after that.

[rosenclaws]

Hello😸 I saw that you have requests open and I’m still on that Leopold high‼️

So, could I request a little something where Leo is jealous of the attention Reader is getting and tries to get their attention back on him?

(I’d prefer if Reader was gender neutral but fem is fine too‼️)

a/n: omg jealous leo is sooo cute. That scene in the movie where he gets jealous of Kate's boss is too good. I took a lot of inspiration from that. Also there is a lot of wine talk in this and I do not know anything about wine so don't come for me for incorrect wine information okay

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, jealous leo, asshole corporate guy

Leopold has been exposed to many unbelievable things in the past year. Time travel, television, cell phones, and the worst of all. Frozen food trays. However what Leopold isn’t used to is this feeling twisting and turning inside of his stomach. Jealously. The collar of his shirt starts to itch uncomfortably, not quite used to the wear of the 21st century. Business casual as you had called it.

He had been to many parties back in his time but they were nothing like they are now. This was no party to him. As you had explained they were more for celebrating themselves and showing off how successful the company. Still what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't accompany you. Ever the gentleman he is as he leads you through the crowd of people.

He had offered to get drinks as you go and mingle. With two glasses of wine in his hands he made his way back to you. Only to find you trapped in a conversation with a man he had never heard of before. He can feel his jaw clench as he slides right next to you. Handing you your drink and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh Leopold this is Mason," Leopold's eyes narrow as he notices Mason look him up and down, a smug look in his eye.

"You're the butter commercial guy." Mason says with a smirk. You feel Leopold tense slightly but he flashes his smile and reaches his hand out.

"Yes, and you are?" Leopold grips his hand a little too tight as they shake hands. You place your hand on Leopold's arm as you butt back into the conversation.

"He's new-"

"I'm the new director of marketing." He cuts you off and Leopold feels anger bubbling inside of him. Before either of you or Leopold could speak he starts talking.

Dominating the conversation with stories of how successful he's been and all the wonderful things he's done. He can't help but feel the jealously build in his gut. Your attention is on this arrogant man who is clearly trying to court you despite Leopold standing right next to you.

"You know, to be in marketing you need to have a certain, charisma about you." He glances over at you and flashes a smile. He takes a sip of his champagne and grimaces.

"Of course they got the cheap stuff, back home I have bottles of the finest wine. A bottle of champagne called La Romanée from 1873. Expensive yes but I would be happy to share. Maybe come back to my place and I'll show you." Leopold chuckles which makes Mason look to him.

"Something funny?" Leopold looks at him with a sudden confidence.

"No no. Just that from my memory that wine is from 1870 and it's pinot noir, not a champagne." Leopold raises an eyebrow as Mason starts to stammer.

"I think you've got your information wrong. My guy is a very reputable wine seller." He has a false confidence about him that Leopold can see right through. He grins, taking a sip of his own wine. He knows he isn't.

"I would contact your merchant, but perhaps I am mistaken." The damage is done as Mason starts to turn red from anger. Leopold takes a step closer. He's a polite man but he even he has his limits.

"I must add, that attempting to court someone who is already taken really is in poor taste. Simply put, you're making a fool of yourself." Mason mumbles something under his breath before stalking away in defeat. You finally let out the laugh that you had been holding in. Relieved that you were finally alone with Leo for the night.

"What a dick." You huff as pull Leopold to the side of the room.

"Didn't think you were the jealous type." You tease as Leopold starts to calm down. He sees Mason go over to what appeared to be a very important group of people. A sense of guilt washes over him. An egotistical, dick as you put it, he may be but he was still an important figure at your company.

"Forgive me if I have overstepped my place. I fear that jealously had blinded me and I acted out of line." You place your hand on top of his, gently squeezing his hand.

"You didn't, he's your typical asshole corporate higher up. It was nice seeing someone put him in his place a little." Also seeing him jealous was hot. But you'll tell him that later. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

"How do you know so much about wine?" He shrugs and places his now empty glass down.

"I visited Bordeaux in my youth before moving to New York." You stare at him in awe, his life before he met you was constantly surprising you.

"I want to hear more." You slowly start dragging him to the exit.

"Let's ditch this party and go home. I have a bottle of wine I got for 20 bucks that I'd be happy to share." You say, mocking the words that Mason had said to you. Leopold laughs as he places a hand on your back, guiding you away from the party.

"It's no fancy wine from France but I hope it will do." Once you're clear of the door he gently presses you against the wall. Capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

"The best wine is any I get to share with you." He says sincerely, brushing his thumb across your lips.

He kisses you again. The sound of footsteps pass by but he could care less. A small part of him wanting to show that you are his and he is yours. He can't help it. Anyone with you in their life would feel the same way. Too bad for them, your his now.

His and no one else's.

[cod-dump]

What would happen if Price got contacted to say his mother or father had died? Would he care? Would he go to the funeral? Would he simply pretend he never saw the letter?

Even worse if someone else found the letter first.

previous

more richborn Price? hell yea

___

Price getting mysterious letter in a PO box he had long forgotten about. It had a hand written name on it, it was familiar, an upon opening it he spotted a name t the bottom, signed off elegantly. One that made his heart almost stop.

Amelia Victoria.

She left out the surname, certainly knowing he would throw it the letter out upon sight of it alongside a name that wasn't his own. He would've crumpled it up by now, but he didn't. All previous attempts at contacting him was from his parents, his siblings had never reached out. Never.

His brother simply didn't care to, he had everything to gain from Price not being present. Of course it had to be Amelia, she was the only person Price would ever considering listening to. It had to be her.

Price stuffed the letter back into the envelope, not bothering to read anything beyond his sister's name. He didn't have the energy for those people, his sister included. It was his own fault, leaving himself open to their attempts at communication, cruel enough to never answer and cowardly enough to never have it in him to respond.

He could disappear, they never would be able to find them. But he never did it.

He threw the letter in the trash as he walked out of his office. If the janitor didn't have the trash dumped by morning then he'd consider reading it.

Of course it wasn't left in the trash.

Price was nursing a morning cup of tea, still waking up when Ghost walked into the lounge. He had a look in his eyes, guilty but also a bit miffed. He looked at Price before he walked over and sat across from him. No words were spoken as he took out the letter and dropped it on the table.

Price felt his eye twitch at the sight. This wouldn't be the first time Ghost had poked around in his trash, Price knew he should've shredded it upon discovering who sent it. It was his own fault for being weak, for being open to reading it.

"Your mum's dead."

Price felt his heart drop, almost dropping his mug. He shakingly put down his tea, breathing as he looked away. Ghost's eyes widened and he looked even more guilty.

"You didn't know."

Ghost spoke upon the assumption he had read it. Of course, he wouldn't have said anything otherwise.

"She's-"

"I'm sorry."

Price took the letter, trying to not rip and tear as he opened it. He skimmed over the words until he found the passage mentioning his mother's death. He was supposed to feel something more than a numbed dread. He was a child who learned his mother was gone, why wasn't he feeling more than this? The shake in his hands wasn't enough, there should be more emotion.

Price honestly didn’t feel much as he read his sister's letter, describing their mother's last moments and the funeral they would have. She wrote as if she already knew he would never attend, and there wasn't any blame. Just sorrow and understanding. Sorrow, it didn't feel enough.

His dear mother, might as well have not been there at all. He vividly remembered her faraway stare, like her spirit wasn't even present. She used to be much more alive when he was much younger, while she was pregnant with his brother. She argued with his father with determination, no fear. Then... it just went away. She never showed much emotion after she became pregnant with his sister. Their father had full reign of the household, of their children.

He wondered if she died that way, numb and absent minded, allowing their father to have his way until the bitter end.

"John?"

Ghost didn't like his silence, probably didn't like the lack of a more earnest reaction. Price never told him about his family or upbringing. Never told him he joined the military to get away from them. Any judgement he was receiving was deserved. Ghost clung to his family when he had them, he loved them fiercely.

"I probably should tell you a few things about me... and keep all of this between us, yea?"

Ghost nodded while watching him carefully. Price really didn't want the others to learn about this, learn everything about him he frankly didn't want them to know.

[rennybu]

AAAAUHG.. so many things come to mind so i will start with... i like to imagine he and Fenris are the same height :') (5'11"). This got a bit long but i'm always happy to talk about this guy!!!!!!!!! @trebuchet151

he's got a big garnet signet ring with the Amell family crest carved in it, and that's about the only recognizable thing that denotes his lineage... he has always liked stamping wax seals on letters with it!!! he's a ring guy generally, he likes mixing and matching stones and metal.

his hands are very scarred and rough from reckless casting, and especially casting fire magic without a staff (in a pinch).

He has a heart tattooed on his ring finger for Fenris :') their wedding was very. Andraste as the witness, on the road, impulsive. Vows for themselves, nothing legally binding. Fenris has a plain gold band on a red cord somewhere on his person at all times.

his testosterone is taken via oral tincture, some kind of oil solution he takes drops of daily. like a mild and highly personalized potion recipe! it's the only reason he sometimes needs a home base or shop to set up in, to prepare a big batch. He stores it in little glass vials he collects from trinket shops. Malcolm found the recipe for him after he came out in his tweens.

Bethany is kind of sainted in his mind, when he's exasperated or stunned he might utter an "oh Bethany" (in the tone of "are you seeing this shit") rather than an "oh Maker"

He struggles a lot with empathy, in that he frequently can logically recognize when he should feel for another person's situation, and yet finds himself unmoved. He will deliberately go out of his way to care for others, sometimes more than is needed, to try to make up for what he perceives as a personal flaw. This is how he ended up like a wrung out mouldy rag, emotionally, by the end of DA2.

His spell class is fucking terrifying, he has a lot of mana and not much hp, but is really reckless about his reserves. He combines force magic with fire magic, trapping foes and incinerating them, and sometimes leaving himself winded in the wake of too much magical exertion at once.

he's pretty spry and strong but doesn't have a great constitution. He tires out quickly in fights, hence trying to end them explosively and quickly.

Was briefly stalked by a sloth demon, perhaps around Act 2, and passed a very "get off my doorstep" homebrew harrowing as a result. Burnt it out of his shadow and got some spring back in his step, around roughly the same time he recognized his feelings for Fenris, settled into his role as Hawke within Kirkwall, etc. He Killed Dysphoria, Forever!!!

His love for Merrill makes him very "blood magic is okay", he loves her worldview and wisdom about its use, but his upbringing prevents him from extending that grace to himself. He was forced to use blood magic in his duel against the Arishok in order to survive it!!! Angst. Hates himself quite badly for this. Until Merrill is like "why are you special" and he's like ooohh. I get it

We all kno Hawke goes thru hell but I love reflecting on Orson's arc from early family life to Now/post-DA:I, he found closure among his friends and family and was able to fully remove himself from a public leadership role and is doing much better for it. He's a bit of an anarchist i guess, jack of all trades with a pretty rigid set of personal morals that sometimes forces him to act outside the law. He's very grey market, hard to contact, arrive in the nick of time.

He and Fenris do not ever shut up around each other. Two dudes who talk about fuck all, very intelligently. If you see Fenris in the wild, Orson is probably around, too. They love hunting Venatori and only sometimes get in the way of other spy/subterfuge activities.

he smells like BRITTLE sun-baked wood, with a hint of oily herbal medicine.

[wiltedflowerpetals]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Captain John Price's wife, a trained assassin, is about to go on a mission, but she has only one thing on her mind. Her husband. The man who didn't know about her secret job…

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Words: 2850

Warning: fluff, a bit angsty, death (target got killed)

Previous Part: Part 1 - Wife Meets Friend

The next morning, you turned in your bed, arm moving towards John’s side, only to find out that he was not in bed. No. By the smell of coffee that lingered in the air, you knew that he was in the kitchen. You dressed quickly and headed downstairs, finding him at the table with a steaming mug in hand, flipping through a newspaper.

“Morning.” He greeted with a warm smile as you entered the kitchen. His eyes brightened as he saw you, and he set the newspaper down to focus on you.

“Morning.” You replied, returning his smile and walking over to pour yourself a cup of your favorite drink. The aroma was comforting, like a small anchor to normalcy after the day you'd had. “You’re up early.”

“Old habits.” John said with a shrug, taking another sip from his mug. “Couldn't sleep much, so I figured I'd get a head start on the day.”

You nodded, though you wondered if his restlessness had anything to do with you. Did he sense that something was off? You tried to push the thought aside. “Any plans today?”

“Nothing much. Thought I’d get some work done, maybe catch up on a bit of paperwork.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “What about you?”

You sipped your hot drink, carefully considering your words. “Just some errands around town, then I might drop by the office for a bit. We’ve got a few deadlines coming up.”

John chuckled, shaking his head. “Always working. You should take a day off sometime, you know? Relax a little.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try to remember that.”

As the day wore on, you found yourself reflecting on the life you’d built with John. Your marriage was strong, built on love and trust… Trust that you were constantly betraying by keeping your true self hidden. Only because you wanted to protect him from your job. The world you operated in was dangerous, filled with secrets and lies, and the less John knew, the safer he would be.

In the afternoon, you decided to step out to run the errands you’d mentioned earlier. You kissed John’s and left, promising to be back soon. As you drove through the streets of your neighborhood, your thoughts drifted back to Kate’s visit. It had gone well, but the pressure was building. How much longer could you keep this up?

You stopped at a small park on your way back home, needing a moment to clear your head. Sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree, you watched as families played with their children, couples walked hand in hand, and joggers passed by with their headphones in. It was a picture of a peaceful and normal life… A life you never had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You grabbed it and glanced at the screen, seeing a message from an unknown number. You read the brief text: We need to talk. Usual place. 1900.

You frowned, recognizing the message. It was from one of your CIA contacts. You took a deep breath, quickly typing out a response. You were used to it by now, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. You needed to find a way to slip out tonight without raising John’s suspicions.

When you returned home, John was still in his study. You paused at the doorway, watching him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, so content in his element.

“You’re back.” John said, looking up with a smile as he noticed you standing there.

“Yeah, just finished up.” You replied, stepping into the room. “How’s your day going?”

“Not bad.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “Got a lot done. I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner tonight, you know, to unwind a bit. What do you think?”

Your heart sank. John rarely suggested going out. But tonight, of all nights, he’d chosen to go on a small little date with you. Great… You couldn’t refuse without arousing suspicion, but you also couldn’t afford to miss the meeting.

“That sounds nice.” You said carefully, already trying to figure out a way to work around it. “But how about we raincheck for tomorrow? I’m a little tired from running around all day.”

John studied you for a moment, eyes filled with concern. “You sure you’re alright? You’ve seemed a bit off since yesterday.”

You stepped closer to him. “I’m fine, really. Just a little worn out. Tomorrow would be better, I think. We could make it a proper date night.”

He reached out, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap. “Alright, if you’re sure. Tomorrow it is.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Of course you felt guilty, but you had no other choice. “Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his neck softly. “For understanding.”

“Always.” John murmured, holding you close. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You closed your eyes, wishing more than anything that you could tell him the truth, that you didn’t have to hide this part of yourself from the man you loved. But you couldn’t - you wouldn’t - risk his safety for your own peace of mind.

Later that evening, after you’d shared a quiet dinner at home, you waited until John had settled into the living room with a book before making your move. You casually mentioned needing to check on something at the office, using one of your excuses. John offered to come with you, but you gently declined, insisting it wouldn’t take long.

He kissed you goodbye, watching as you left with a small smile, completely unaware of the true nature of your errand.

You drove through the city. The usual place was a parking garage downtown, one of the many locations you used for these kinds of meetings. You arrived a few minutes early, parking in a shadowy corner and waiting.

A black SUV pulled up next to your car shortly after, and a man in a dark suit stepped out, his expression serious. You recognized him immediately - Agent Daniels, one of your primary contacts at the CIA.

“Evening, Mrs. Price.” He greeted you with a curt nod.

“Daniels.” You replied. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a situation.” He said, handing you a slim folder. “A high-value target is back on the grid. We need you to handle it.”

You opened the folder, scanning the information quickly. The target was a known arms dealer with ties to several terrorist organizations - a dangerous man with a long list of enemies. “This is a priority?”

“Top priority.” Daniels confirmed. “He’s planning to move a shipment in the next 48 hours. We need to shut it down before it reaches its destination.”

You nodded, already planning your approach. “What’s the location?”

“He’s holed up in a compound outside of the city. We’ve got a team on standby, but you’ll be leading the operation.”

You closed the folder, meeting his gaze. You sighed, not wanting to lead the operation as it meant that you also had to lead a team. You preferred to work alone, but apparently you had no other choice. “… Understood. I’ll take care of it.”

Daniels gave you a brief, approving nod. “Good. You’ll be briefed on the full details tomorrow morning. Be ready.”

With that, he got back into the SUV and drove off, leaving you alone in the garage. You took a deep breath. This was just another mission, another job to complete. But as you started your car and headed home, you had one thought. Balancing your secret life was becoming harder by the day, and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep the two worlds from colliding.

When you returned home, John was still in the living room, dozing lightly with the book resting on his chest. You paused in the doorway, watching him sleep, heart heavy.

You approached quietly, taking the book from his hands and setting it on the table. He stirred, opening his eyes slightly. “You’re back.” he mumbled, half-asleep.

“Yeah.” You whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “Go to bed, honey.”

He nodded groggily, allowing you to help him up. As you made your way upstairs, you felt the familiar pang of guilt, stronger than ever. You loved him more than anything, and yet, every day you deceived him, kept him in the dark about who you really were.

You two crawled into bed, and John pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could protect you from the world. But he didn’t know the truth - that it was you who was protecting him, shielding him from the bad guys during his missions.

The next morning, you were up before dawn. You moved quietly through the house, careful not to wake John as you gathered your gear. Today’s mission was critical, and you couldn’t afford any mistakes. As you pulled on your tactical suit, your mind focused on the task ahead. There was no room for doubt or hesitation.

Before leaving, you slipped back into the bedroom, where John was still fast asleep. You stood by the bed for a moment, taking in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so unaware of the dangerous things you were doing and going to do. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, whispering, “I love you” before turning to leave.

The drive to the briefing location was uneventful. The compound outside the city was heavily guarded, and the target was known for being ruthless. But you’d faced worse.

When you arrived at the location, Daniels and the rest of the team were already there. They were gathered around a large table covered in maps and surveillance photos. You walked in, nodding to them.

“Glad you could make it.” Daniels said as you approached. “We’re ready to go over the plan.”

You nodded again, stepping up to the table. “Let’s get started.”

The briefing was quick and to the point. The target was using the compound as a staging area for an arms deal that could supply a dangerous faction with enough firepower to destabilize an entire region. The mission was simple in theory: infiltrate, neutralize the target, and destroy the shipment before it could be moved.

But as with all things in your line of work, the reality would be far more complex. The compound was well-fortified, with multiple layers of security and heavily armed guards. The risk was high, but so were the stakes.

“I’ll lead the assault team.” You said as you went through the details. “We’ll go in at night, under the cover of darkness. We’ll need to move quickly and quietly.”

Daniels nodded. “Agreed. We can’t afford to tip them off before we’re in position.”

The team spent the rest of the day preparing, double-checking equipment, and going over the plan until everyone knew their roles by heart. You kept your mind focused on the mission, pushing aside any thoughts of John and the life you’d have to return to after this was over. Now was not the time to think about it. You couldn't afford distractions. The mission required your full attention.

As night fell, the team geared up and prepared to move out. You stood with your team, your expression calm and composed. This was the part of your life you had to keep separate from John, the part he could never know about.

“Alright, everyone.” You said. “We go in fast and quiet. Stick to your roles, and we’ll get this done. Let’s move.”

The team moved out in silence; their vehicles drove them towards the compound. The tension in the air was palpable. This was what you were trained for, what you were good at. Every detail of the mission played out in your head as you approached your target.

When you arrived at the outskirts of the compound, the team disembarked, moving swiftly into position. You led the way, your movements precise. You reached the perimeter, where you signaled for the team to hold. From their vantage point, you could see the guards patrolling the area, their weapons at the ready.

“Snipers, take out the perimeter guards on my mark.” You whispered into your comm. “We move in as soon as they’re down.”

There was a tense silence as you waited for the right moment. You counted the seconds in your head, timing their approach perfectly. Then, with a single command, the silence was shattered by the sound of sniper rifles. The guards dropped one by one.

“Move.” You ordered, and the team advanced, slipping through the shadows as you made your way deeper into the compound.

The mission unfolded with ruthless efficiency. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, each member playing their part flawlessly. You encountered resistance as you closed in on the target, but you were relentless.

As you breached the main building, you found the target in a makeshift command center, surrounded by his most trusted men. The firefight that ensued was intense, but you were unstoppable. In a matter of minutes, the room was cleared, and the target lay dead at your feet.

“Target neutralized.” You reported, your voice steady as you stood over the body.

“Good work.” Daniels replied over the comms. “Proceed with the secondary objective.”

You and your team quickly moved to the storage area, where you found the shipment of weapons. It was an impressive cache, enough to equip a small army. You planted the charges, setting the timer to ensure you had enough time to get clear.

“Charges set.” You confirmed. “We’re heading out.”

The team made their way back to the extraction point, the sound of distant explosions rumbling behind them as the charges detonated. The mission had been a success, but there was no time for celebration. You had to get out of the area before any reinforcements arrived.

As you reached the extraction point, sighed in relief. The mission was over, and soon you would be back home with John, back to the life you were desperately trying to protect.

The ride back was quiet, the team too exhausted to talk. You leaned your head back against the seat, closing your eyes for a moment. You thought of John, wondering if he was still up, if he was waiting for you. You couldn’t wait to see him, to feel his arms around you, after this mission.

When you finally returned to the base, you debriefed with Daniels and the rest of the team. As soon as the formalities were over, you took a shower fast and changed your clothes, before you headed straight for your car.

The drive home was a fast. All you could think about was John and your bed. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that the lights were still on in the house. John was still up, waiting for you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door.

When you walked inside, you found John in the living room, sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up as you entered, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

“You’re back.” He said, standing up to greet you.

You smiled, feeling the weight of the day’s events start to lift as she crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him. “I’m back.”

John held you close, his embrace warm and comforting. “I was starting to worry. Everything alright at the office?”

“Yeah.” You lied smoothly, pulling back to look at him. “Just some last-minute issues, but it’s all sorted now.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “You sure you’re okay? You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to assure him. “Just tired, that’s all.”

John nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You need to rest.”

He kissed your forehead and smelled your hair for a second. “Did you shower?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, there was a small smoothie incident at work. It was everywhere.” You lied at him, walking with him upstairs as he chuckled.

You changed into your pajamas and crawled into bed beside him. John pulled you close, his presence reminding you of what you were fighting for.

As you lay there in the darkness, listening to the sound of his breathing. The mission was over, and you were lucky that he wasn’t suspicious of any of your lies. But the fear still lingered in the back of your mind. The fear, that one day, John would find out the truth, and everything you’d worked so hard to protect would come crashing down.

But for tonight, you allowed to savor the warmth of John’s embrace and the quiet peace of your home. Tomorrow, you would face whatever challenges came your way. But tonight, you were just (Y/N) Price, the woman who loved her husband more than anything in the world.

And that was enough.

🔖 Taglist: @starriestarlight

Masterlist ❀ Askbox/Requests ✿ Navigation

Reblogs and comments are appreciated.( ‘ω’ )

© nanamisflowerfield/wiltedflowerpetals. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.

[push-tet]

what I've done

The town of Veronaville is one built on little love and one big feud. For years, the Capp and Monty clans have been at each other’s throats; yet this hatred cannot stop the younger generation from crossing borders and falling for one another. Will their actions bring both feuding families to ruin, or spark reconciliation? Can their love truly heal such deep wounds?

Wouldn't you like see Veronaville in entirely different light? K-he.

WHAT’S NEW:

Added a massive storyline! The familiar Сapp, Monty and Summerdream families will be seen in a whole new light🌟

Added three brand new families with their own stories and secrets! 🌟

Added some new and special townies. At the end of the town album there will be a list of townspeople who have biographies and memories, so no need to add/resurrect literally everybody on your lot. 🌟

Added 20 new community lots + remade the old ones as well 🌟

DISCLAMER AND TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!

This hood is not a retelling of Shakespeare's plays, nor is it a mere makeover of the Maxis’ Veronaville. Think of this neighborhood as an alternate universe.

The Neighborhood contains themes of: fantasy, s*icide and self-harm, body horror, OC X CANON (?)

I may have (unintentionally) spoiled some of your favorite simmies… 

ISSUES THAT I AM AWARE OF:

Some townies’ memories could disappear. It happens even with the mod that forbids the townies from losing their memories. I don't know what the reason is so I recommend checking them before you play the game, namely, by going into the family and teleporting the townies to the resident lot. If the memories are already gone, then please re-download the hood.

Hoodchecker might show some minor errors connected to the wrong memory subjects. This was intentional so don't be alarmed! It doesn't affect your game in any negative way.

Don't try to resurrect Julien Cooke. Just forget about him.

Oberon originally had an overlay with a mechanical prosthetic. But for some reason in some testers’ games the overlay was affecting Oberon's complexion, turning his skintone white… So I removed the overlay entirely. You can add it back if you wish!

RECOMMENDED MODS AND PROGRAMS:

Cyber Parts by @themeasureofasim (optional, Oberon’s prosthetics)

Restore Default Names for Sims in Subhoods (if you intent to play a subhood version of it)

🐸DOWNLOAD MF - SFS

THE CONTENTS:

VD01 ENG is a main hood; contains some of my CCs.

VVBS CC is an archive with some custom content from me for the hood (consists of: some cosmetics, contacts (in the masks section) and one female haircut).

VVBS SUBHOOD is a subhood with two major differences from the main hood: it does not contain pictures from Storytelling folder (so the nhood is less heavy) + you can pick and choose whether you want it with or without my custom content.

EXTRA CONTENT folder is not necessary to download; it contains some extra stuff from my project. This file is locked, but you can gather the password in main hood itself through the storytelling pictures and a little game in the community lots (you can find the rules of this game in the description of 2 Pentameter Parkway lot). Think of it as a reward for your attentiveness!

If you find any errors or bugs, just let me know! THANK YOU!

idk what to put in here so that dads' ranking

P.S. Destroy this town with your crazy ideas. :))

Well, the English version of this interactive fanfic is finally OUT!

I have Pahleen (translation) and @f1shart (English editing) to thank for that! And I also want to thank the many wonderful testers and people who supported my project!🌹🌹

I will continue to post materials about this neighborhood on this blog, but I also have plans to expand this universe, so for that I created a blog @vv-bs so you can follow the development of the project!

[schluttforschlatt]

Bartender Reader x Patron Schlatt

You’ve had your fair share of working in shitty dive bars, having been in both big cities and small towns

The patrons were always predictable, their life stories printed in the creases around their eyes and mouth

The bigger cities attracted a younger crowd, while the smaller townships collected middle aged farm hands and dock workers

You were currently working two part time jobs: waiting tables at a family owned diner in the morning, and bartending at a sleepy tavern in the evenings

You had your regulars at both establishments, but the bar goers definitely tipped better than the diner guests

Of course there were sleezeballs trying to feel you up at the bar, but you were desperate to make rent and didn’t mind an extra $30 for a light tap on the ass; men are simple creatures after all and you were able to brush it off by the time you were clocking out

However, every Friday night you noticed a solitary young man, gruff expression and wild facial hair with uncharacteristically soft eyes, tucked away in a booth occasionally sharing banter with other bar crawlers

You’d heard stories of him tipping measly dollars to your coworkers, the other bar tenders always disappointed after he would close out his tab and walk out the door

But when it was you cashing him out, he’d slide you a crisp $50 with a subtle wink, and you’d blush whispering a “thank you” every time

This would go on for a few months, him slipping you $100s closer to holidays. The first time, you pleaded with him to keep the money and use it for his own needs and care, but he smiled down at you and shook his head, muttering “you’re too sweet for this place, doll. Tips all yours.”

You came to eventually know him as Jay, who would slink in and order a top shelf whiskey or bourbon, then seat himself in a booth in the far corner of the bar. He would only speak when it came time to pay his tab, unless it was you

He would ask you about your life, what you were studying and why you were passionate about it. He’d ask about your hobbies and interests, offering input if it was something he was familiar with. And of course, he loved it when you’d sit in the booth across from him, scrolling through pictures of your cats at home.

On one occasion, you’d had an actually deep conversation about working two jobs and studying, struggling to find a balance between the three while maintaining a social life and personal interests

You’d become acquaintances with him, and just as you opened up to him, he would open up to you, sharing pictures of his own cats (“I don’t trust someone who doesn’t like cats, there’s just something untrustworthy about it.” He’d say to you one night) and his travels across the states and abroad

One night in particular, he asked about a tattoo you had on your left forearm. You said it was from your favorite video game, which launched the two of you into a passionate conversation about console vs PC, then building your own PCs and rigs

He pulled out his phone and opened the Steam app, eagerly asking to add you as a friend with the possibility of playing together, which you happily obliged

He tipped you $250 that night, his bill originally only $45. That was the largest tip you’d received. There was no physical contact made, nor did he try to feel you up at any point, unlike other reoccurring patrons

The next time he sauntered in, he gave you a shy wave before ordering a whiskey neat, then retiring to the same dim booth. You’d taken notice of his messy hair, the usual Yankees cap missing this evening, and the stressed look on his face

On your break you made your routine appearance at the booth, scooting in with a warm smile. His eyes seemed distant this time, almost anxious. You opened the conversation joking about his missing hat, to which he let out a soft chuckle and cracked a half smile. He indulged about his current woes, how his job was weighing on him and he felt like he was hitting a wall

This was the first time you’d asked about what he did for a living, and suddenly the larger than average tips made sense.

He prattled on about running multiple successful YouTube channels on top of owning several smaller business ventures. He opened up about the podcasts he was apart of, and explained how Patreon patrons were the backbone of his multiple communities. It was endearing to see someone young, close in age to you, express the realities of burnout despite loving your craft

As your lunch conversation came to an end, you boldly asked for his number, if anything just to continue the discussion after your shift

However, he’d do you one better and invite you over to his place after your shift to talk shit about life and play old Nintendo games. He’d still given you his number, of course, but he’d also filled out his contact information with his street address, email, and had taken a silly selfie for the contact photo and poster

As you clocked out that night, he waited for you outside the entrance, scrolling through Reddit

You told him you couldn’t stay too late, as you worked your second (well, first, technically) job in the morning and needed at least a good nap before you’d have to get ready

He was more than happy to offer for you to stay the night at his place, and so you two made the walk to your apartment (you said you were fine to go by yourself, but he insisted on making sure you got to your destinations safe and sound). You opened up the door and invited him in, introducing him to your three cats and leaving them in the small living room while you packed an overnight bag. You could hear needy meows through the hall of your youngest cat, begging this new kind stranger for treats. Once she started, the other two kitties joined in, a chorus of

“I don’t know where your mama keeps them! But if I find them you’ll all get some!” You’d heard him whisper yell, smiling at the thought of this new found friend bonding with the most important things in your life

Once your bag was packed, you locked your bedroom door and waltzed into the cramped kitchen, pulling out a bag of cat treats and handing them to Jay

“I spoil them so give them each a small handful,” you smiled at him, handing the bag over. “But be careful of Mellie, she’ll bit a finger for a treat.” He chuckled and offered a smile back, eyes brighter now than they were at the start of the night

After getting the cats to settle down, you’d scuttle down the stairs of your apartment, and begin your trek to Jay’s

Coincidentally, he only lived a few blocks away, no more than a 15 minute walk. It was brisk outside, and you were hoping the pajama shorts you packed would keep you warm through the night

Once arriving at his condo, he unlocked the door and let you in. His own cats came skittering to the front door, immediately begging you, now the stranger to these cats, for treats of their own

“Guys, leave our guest alone, I know your feeders went off less than an hour ago,” he’d bent down to pet one of his cats, an orange one you recognized as Jambo, before throwing a mouse toy into the hallway, both cats running after it

“Did you want to change? The bathroom is down that hall to the left,” he informed, pointing you in the direction. “I’m gonna get the Wii set up in the living room, so take your time, Doll.” That was a pet name he’d use for you often, and you never thought anything of it, only that he was a nice guy who essentially paid for your groceries and gas in his tips

You smiled and nodded, taking off for the bathroom while he took off his jacket, draping it over the arm of the loveseat

It was a nice condo, you thought, colors fitting together charmingly. Blues and browns accented the walls, along with framed awards and trophies. It wasn’t braggadocious, you thought, but rather cute

You found the bathroom, which was also put together nicely, and began your nightly routine. Once you were changed out of your sticky uniform and with a washed face, you made your way to the living room, socked feet making gentle padding sounds to announce your presence. He turns and smiles at you, a gleam in his eye

“Here, lemme put your bag in my room,” he offers with an extended hand, and you gladly let him store it for later

You plop down on the couch, picking up a Wiimote and securing the wrist strap. You hear heavy steps from behind before a “You really use the wrist strap on these things? Pft-“ he joins you on the couch, you, player two, on the right side, and he, obviously player one, on the right

“Your place looks nice, and I don’t have the money to buy you a new TV if I go too hard in Wii Sports,” you quip back, earning a small laugh from the larger man

He continues to set up Mario Kart, turning back to see if you approve of his choice

“Ain’t worried ‘bout the TV, Doll,” you blush at the use of the pet name again. “Only worried about kicking your ass in Moo Moo Circut.”

It wouldn’t be long until both of you were shit talking each other, subconsciously scooting closer to each other, shrieks and laughs echoing through the room

Jambo and [Redacted] had found their places next to you and Jay, and something about this made you feel at ease, allowing you to loosen up a bit and sink into the comfort of his couch

A few hours had passed, and a handful of circuits had been played before you sheepishly asked for a blanket. He obliged, standing up to grab a giant plush blanket, draping it over your lap, then pulling the slack over his own after sitting back down. He’d throw a sheepish grin your direction after knocking your knees together

He’d subconsciously reach over and rub the spot under the blanket, causing you to gasp at the contact of his cold hand. He’d apologize and withdraw digits, refocusing on the TV screen, but you could see a faint blush begun to crawl up his ears

Another hour or so had passed before you were ready to head to bed, your need for sleep making its presence by intense yawns dragging themselves out in quick succession to one another, then contagiously spreading to Jay

Standing up from the couch and stretching, you’d follow behind the large man, with the cats following behind you, to a decently sized bedroom with a neatly made bed

“Beds all yours, I’ll take the futon,” he’d declare, causing you to blush, and insist he take the bed, and you the futon, but he’d stand firm on his decision. “‘S probably gonna be the only time you’ll sleep on a bed this nice, when you come over, y’know?” The smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know, so you’d nod and climb into the California King, feeling like the distance to himself on the futon was several zip codes away

The bed was indeed comfortable, but you tossed and turned because of how unbelievably cold the room was, the sheets feeling like blankets of ice and snow

Desperate to feel warmth you decided to slink over to the man on the futon, placing a freezing hand on the back of his neck. He jumped at the contact, a string of expletives leaving his mouth, before looking at you with concerned eyes. You bluntly said you were cold, and wanted him to either turn the AC off and give you a few more blankets, or join you. In the bed. The one bed. He gave a dopey grin

“All you had to do was ask, Toots.” And he came, pulling him onto the bed with him. And God, that was the best sleep you’ve ever had

~ lmk if anyone wants like an actual fic of this bc I fear I have motivation ~

[ssa-dado]

8 - Law & Self-Awareness

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: angst, sad stuff, fluff

Summary: Hotch and Peter confront a tense situation as they rush to Riverhead, where the unsub is expected to strike next, but conflict arises when Peter wants to warn you, fearing for your safety. Hotch insists on following procedure, though both men struggle with personal fears and the ethics of their choices. At Riverhead, you visit your father's grave, reflecting on past decisions and realizations. In a quiet moment later, surrounded by your team, you come to understand a truth you've been trying to avoid.

Warnings: Grief, CM case

Word Count: 6,1k

Dado's Corner: Here's the sister chapter of the previous one! The narration is still inspired by Suits' 2×08. Funny how Aaron making physical contact with you occupies 57 paragraphs while Peter doing the same thing ½ of a line. Also this is probably the first chapter in which Y/N's physical appearance is mentioned sooo let me know if you imagined her in this way (it's still very vague don’t worry). That said, bring out your finest china, we're celebrating!

previous chapter ; masterlist

“Riverhead,” Hotch said, his voice taut, barely containing the urgency that trembled beneath the surface. “He’s going there next.”

Peter’s eyes widened in disbelief, his immediate reaction pure instinct as he reached for his phone, fingers fumbling desperately to find your contact. “We have to call her. She needs to know -”

Hotch’s hand instinctively shot out, grabbing Peter’s arm with a force that matched the fear hiding behind his calm eyes. “No, we can’t. If we warn her, we risk tipping the unsub off, causing chaos, panic. It’s not just about her, Peter. It’s about every person in Riverhead. We have to handle this the right way.”

Peter wrenched his arm free, his anger flaring like gasoline igniting in the confined space of the SUV. “You’re seriously going to let her walk right into this? She’s in danger, Hotch! And you’re just going to sit back and do nothing?”

Hotch’s expression remained steely, but there was a tremor beneath the surface, a vulnerability he kept tightly under wraps. “This isn’t just about her. There are hundreds of people in Riverhead who could be at risk. If we alert her and it gets out, we’re not just endangering her, we’re endangering everyone. It’s not fair to warn one person and not the others. You can’t let your feelings dictate your decisions.”

Peter’s laugh was sharp and scornful, tinged with a mix of disbelief and fury. “Feelings? Don’t talk to me about feelings, Hotch. You’re always hiding behind the rules, always standing on the side of the law like it’s some infallible god. But this isn’t just about following orders - this is real, and she’s walking into something she can’t see coming.”

Hotch’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles going white as the weight of Peter’s words crashed over him, each one a blow to the carefully built walls he’d constructed around himself.

He shot Peter a side glance, his voice simmering with restrained anger. “I’m not doing this because it’s easy, I’m doing it because it’s the only way to stop this from getting worse. If we tip him off, if she gets scared and acts on it, it could cause a domino effect that puts even more lives at risk. We have to be smarter than that.”

Peter turned to fully face Hotch, the intensity between them palpable, a charged current of frustration and fear. “You keep talking about doing the job, about being ‘smart,’ but what about being human? What about doing the right thing for once instead of hiding behind procedure? What happens if something happens to her, Hotch? Are you really going to look me in the eye and say we did the right thing?”

Hotch’s expression tightened, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He kept repeating the same words, not so much to convince Peter, but to anchor himself - to hold onto some semblance of control as much as possible. “This isn’t just about one person, Peter,” he said, his voice a bit strained with the weight of the impossible choice they faced.

“We can’t put her safety above everyone else’s. It’s not how we do things. If this gets out, if people panic, we lose everything. That’s exactly what the unsub wants: to see us unravel, to watch us make decisions with our hearts instead of our heads. We can’t give him that satisfaction. We can’t let him win.”

Peter scoffed, his anger bubbling over as he stepped closer, his eyes blazing with frustration. His voice rose, each word laced with a mix of fury and desperation. “You’re always so damn obsessed with the law, Hotch,” he snapped, his breath coming faster, as if the force of his emotions was too much to contain. “But what about ethics? What about the people behind the profiles, behind all these damn statistics and protocols? This isn’t just a case file, it’s about real people.”

Peter’s tone shifted as he tried to reach Hotch, his next words softening, laced with an urgent plea. “You know Y/N. I know Y/N. And if she were standing here, right now, listening to us argue like this, she wouldn’t hesitate for a second. She’d probably quote some damn philosopher she loves - Sophocles or whoever - about how there’s more to this than just sticking to the rules. She’d remind us that the law isn’t the only thing that matters, that there’s a fine line between what’s legal and what’s just.”

Peter’s voice cracked slightly, his gaze searching Hotch’s for any flicker of understanding. “She’d be talking about the balance between law and justice, that sometimes what’s right and what’s legal are not the same thing. And you know she’d be right, Hotch. We’re not just here to enforce rules. We’re here to protect people. And if you can’t see that, then maybe you’ve lost sight of why we’re doing this in the first place.”

Hotch felt something inside him twitch at Peter’s words, a sharp, painful pull that he couldn’t ignore. The truth of what Peter was saying sliced through his defenses like a scalpel, precise and unyielding. It was as if Peter’s voice had reached into the guarded, unspoken places of his mind, exposing the doubts he worked so hard to bury. He could almost hear your voice echoing in his head, clear and insistent, the way it always was when you spoke up during team meetings.

You had a way of looking at cases that was different from anyone else, this deep, almost philosophical curiosity that refused to settle for the easy answers. You’d sit there, arms crossed, eyes locked in that thoughtful gaze, and when you spoke, you’d often pose questions that hung in the air, challenging every assumption. You never just saw suspects and victims; you saw people - complex, flawed, human. You’d remind them all that beyond the evidence, beyond the profiles, there were lives and stories that couldn’t be reduced to simple binaries of right and wrong.

Hotch could almost picture you now, leaning forward in your seat, the intensity in your eyes as you dissected every aspect of the case. You were never satisfied with just the black-and-white - you thrived in the gray, constantly urging the team to see beyond the rigid lines of the law. At how you’d quote philosophers, pull wisdom from literature, history, anything to make your point. It wasn’t about showing off. it was about challenging everyone, especially him, to rethink their approach. You’d often remind him that justice wasn’t just about following rules, it was about finding the truth that lay hidden beneath the surface, about doing what was right, even when it wasn’t easy.

Peter’s words hit Hotch hard because they echoed what you would’ve said, what you always said. It was that relentless pursuit of justice, that constant push to go beyond the status quo, that made you such an irreplaceable part of the team. And right now, it was tearing Hotch apart, knowing that you weren’t there to challenge him, to remind him of the bigger picture, to make him question the very things that had once felt so certain.

Peter noticed the crack in Hotch’s demeanor, and he pressed on, his voice softer now but no less intense. “But none of that matters if she doesn’t make it out alive, does it? You can stand here all day talking about rules and duty, but if she’s gone, who’s going to remind us of the difference? The dead can’t debate law and ethics, Hotch. Only the living can do that.”

Hotch’s breath caught in his throat, Peter’s words hitting him with a force that felt physical, like a punch to the gut. He could feel the fear that had been clawing at his insides since the moment he realized you were in danger, the fear he had been trying so desperately to keep at bay. The fear of losing you - of never getting the chance to understand what this thing between you could be, of failing to protect the one person who had managed to breach the walls he’d spent years building.

“You think I don’t know that?” Hotch’s voice broke, his control slipping for just a moment. “You think I don’t feel it? But it’s not just about what we want, it’s about what we have to do. You want to protect her, and so do I. But again, this isn’t just about saving her. It’s about stopping him. It’s about making sure no one else gets hurt because we let our guard down.”

Peter’s gaze softened, but his frustration remained, an unresolved tension simmering between them. “Maybe you’re right, Hotch. Maybe we have to think about everyone. But that doesn’t mean you’re not scared. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you don’t care. So stop pretending you’re above it all, because you’re not. You’re just as terrified as the rest of us.”

Hotch looked away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he tried to regain his composure. Peter was right, he was terrified, but not just for you. He was terrified of what it would mean if he let this get personal, if he let himself care too much and it all fell apart. But as they hurtled toward Riverhead, the truth of Peter’s words lingered, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

He couldn’t afford to lose focus, not now. But the fear, the aching fear that he was making the wrong call, that he was letting his own walls cost him something irreplaceable, was a battle he was losing with every mile closer they got to you.

And in the silence that followed, the weight of those unspoken fears hung heavy between them, a fragile truce bound only by their shared desperation to protect you, no matter the cost.

You had finally arrived at Riverhead.

The cemetery was quiet, shrouded in a stillness that felt heavy with the weight of unspoken memories. Each step toward your father’s grave felt deliberate, slow, as if every movement pulled at something deep within you that you hadn’t touched in years. You hadn’t been here since the funeral, and the sight of his name etched into the stone brought a fresh wave of emotions you weren’t prepared for: grief, anger, regret, all tangled up in the memories you had tried to bury.

You knelt beside his grave, your fingers trembling slightly as you placed a single orchid on the cold, gray headstone, the delicate petals were a sharp contrast to the starkness of the granite. Orchids had always reminded you of the first case you ever worked on at the BAU - a case that had tested every part of you, that had made you realize what it truly meant to carry the weight of other people’s pain. The purple flower was a fitting tribute, an unspoken apology for not being there when he had needed you most, for choosing a path that had pulled you away from his final moments.

You traced the letters of his name, feeling the grooves under your fingertips, and memories of the past surged forward, unbidden. You thought back to the day you told your parents you wanted to become a profiler - a day that, despite all the tension that often simmered between you, had stood out as one of the rare moments of connection between you and your father.

It had been a rainy Sunday afternoon, the kind that kept everyone indoors and made the house feel smaller, the air thick with the unspoken tensions that seemed to linger in every corner. You had been pacing your bedroom, rehearsing the words over and over in front of your mirror, heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and dread. Telling them that you wanted to be a profiler felt like exposing a piece of yourself that you had kept hidden, especially from them.

You finally gathered the courage, walking down the stairs with resolve. Your father was at the dining table, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, his glasses perched on his nose as he scribbled notes on a report.

He was always working, always lost in something that seemed more important than anything happening in the room. It was his way: work was sacred, an escape, and a duty that defined him. You often resented it, the way he would get so caught up that he’d miss dinners, birthdays, the small moments that you had yearned for as a child. But there were also times when you admired his dedication, his unspoken belief that what he was doing mattered.

Your mother was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with an efficiency that matched her exacting nature. She always seemed to be in motion, always doing, rarely resting. She was the professor, the academic who had spent her life studying the human mind, dissecting theories, and teaching students who idolized her. To her, intellect was the highest form of achievement, and anything less was a waste of potential.

You stood in the doorway, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety tighten in your chest, but you pushed forward, clearing your throat to catch their attention. “Mom, Dad… I need to talk to you about something.”

Your father glanced up first, pulling his glasses off and setting them on the table with a raised brow, his expression curious but calm. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, glancing between them, searching for the right words. “I’ve decided what I want to do after graduation. I… I want to be a profiler. I want to join the FBI.”

The room fell silent, the only sound the steady chop of your mother’s knife against the cutting board. Your father’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t speak right away, just watched you, his gaze heavy with a mix of concern and something you couldn’t quite name. Your mother, however, set her knife down sharply, her brow furrowing as she turned to face you.

“A profiler?” she repeated, the disbelief clear in her voice. “Y/N, do you have any idea what that entails? You’re talking about diving into the minds of criminals, putting yourself in danger every day. This isn’t some classroom exercise, this is real life.”

You braced yourself, taking a deep breath. “I know what it means, Mom. I’ve thought about this for a long time. I don’t just want to study the human mind, I want to understand what happens when it breaks. I want to make a difference, to stop people from getting hurt.”

Your father remained quiet, but his gaze never left yours, absorbing every word. There was something in his eyes that told you he was listening, that he understood the weight of what you were saying.

“Do you really understand what you’re asking for?” your mother continued, her voice laced with frustration. “You’re brilliant, Y/N. You have so much potential. You could do anything: be a researcher, a professor. You’d be safe, you’d be respected. Why throw all that away to chase criminals?”

It stung, but you had expected her reaction. For as long as you could remember, your mother had pushed you toward her path, believing that academia was where you belonged. But as much as you respected her work, it had never felt right for you.

The endless theories, the dissection of literature studies in sterile classrooms, it all felt too detached, too far removed from the gritty reality of the world you wanted to understand. You wanted to do more than just read about what broke people; you wanted to see it, to confront it, to fight against it.

“I don’t want to be safe, Mom,” you said, your voice firmer now, carrying the weight of all the arguments you’d been rehearsing for months. “I want to be out there. I want to see the truth of what people can become, the good and the bad. I can’t just sit back and write papers about it.”

Your mother’s mouth tightened, the disappointment etched in her features, but your father leaned back in his chair, studying you with a quiet intensity. He cleared his throat, and you braced yourself for the inevitable disapproval. But when he finally spoke, his voice was low, contemplative, carrying the weight of his own unspoken struggles.

“If this is really what you want,” he said slowly, choosing each word with care, “then you have my support.” He paused, glancing at your mother before returning his focus to you. “Work is… sacred. It’s a calling, not just a job. I know I haven’t always been there, and I know you’ve seen the toll it can take. But I also know the satisfaction that comes from doing something that matters, something you believe in.”

Your heart swelled, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in his words. It was one of the few times you’d felt truly seen by him, and the memory of that moment, of his quiet nod of approval, had stayed with you ever since.

Your mother turned away, picking up the knife and resuming her chopping, her movements more forceful now. “Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart,” she muttered, the bitterness barely hidden in her tone. “There’s no glory in risking your life. There’s no reward for choosing danger over reason.”

But you held on to your father’s words, his silent validation, and in that moment, it had been enough. Even if he wasn’t always present, even if his own work often kept him away, he had understood the drive that pulled you toward the unknown, the need to carve your own path, even if it led you away from everything they had envisioned for you.

As you stood at his grave now, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever. You had chosen this life, knowing full well the risks, knowing the sacrifices that would come with it. And yet, in this quiet moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would still be proud, if he would still see the value in the path you had chosen.

You stood up, brushing the dirt from your knees, feeling the rough earth cling stubbornly to your clothes. As you turned to leave, something caught your eye near the cemetery entrance: a line of sleek, black SUVs parked in formation.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the unmistakable outlines of the BAU vehicles, their dark, imposing presence impossible to miss. But what truly made your breath hitch was the sight of Hotch. Even from this distance, you recognized him instantly, not by his face, but by his unmistakable posture, the way he stood with that rigid, commanding presence, his stance was familiar, almost comforting in its certainty, a figure you’d know anywhere, even among a crowd.

It was only after a moment that your gaze shifted and you noticed Peter beside him, standing just as tensely, their expressions hard and urgent. Hotch’s sharp, focused demeanor contrasted with Peter’s more animated stance, but there was no mistaking the tension that hung between them, like a taut wire ready to snap.

Despite the distance, you could feel the weight of their conversation, the urgency that radiated from them both, and it made your pulse quicken. You hesitated, watching them, knowing that whatever they were discussing, it was serious, and you were about to be pulled right into the heart of it.

A surge of fear shot through you as you rushed toward them, your heart pounding with a mix of dread and confusion. As you got closer, you could see the strain etched across Hotch’s face, the urgency in his eyes that told you something was terribly wrong.

“Hotch?” you called out, breathless, searching his expression for answers. “What’s going on?”

Hotch turned to you, his eyes meeting yours, and for a split second, you saw the raw fear that he usually kept buried deep within. His jaw tightened, the weight of everything he couldn’t say hanging heavily between you, and you knew, whatever this was, it was bigger than any case you had ever faced.

Hotch’s normally composed demeanor was strained, his eyes revealing the fear he had been fighting to suppress all day. Peter, usually quick with a grin, looked torn between anger and the overwhelming relief of seeing you safe.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, breathless from both the sudden sprint and the weight of dread that settled in your chest. “Why are you here in Riverhead?”

Hotch exchanged a quick glance with Peter, an unspoken conversation passing between them before he turned back to you, his voice steady but edged with urgency. “The unsub’s been leaving clues at each crime scene, riddles hinting at his next target. The latest message… it mentioned Riverhead.” He paused, the gravity of his words sinking in, his gaze unwavering. “We think he’s planning his next attack here.”

Your stomach dropped, the weight of his revelation hitting you like a physical blow. The peaceful cemetery, a place you had come to seek closure and quiet, suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, and fraught with danger. You looked around, the once comforting silence now suffocating as you imagined the unsub watching, waiting. You turned back to Hotch, trying to make sense of the layers of fear and determination that flickered across his face, unspoken and raw.

Peter, attempting to cut through the tension that gripped you all, forced a smile, though his voice was tight with the day’s unrelenting strain. “Luckily, Hotch cracked the code before anything happened. Sharp as ever, saved us all a lot of grief.”

You barely registered Peter’s words, his voice a distant murmur against the roar of your own thoughts. Guilt and self-reproach surged within you, crashing over like relentless waves. You were supposed to be better than this: your instincts, your training, everything you had learned should have protected you. But you had been caught off guard, blindsided by a danger that crept too close, too fast. Your eyes flicked back to the gravestones, their cold, silent presence now bearing witness to your vulnerability, each one a haunting reminder of how close you’d come.

Hotch, always attuned to the unspoken, stepped closer, sensing the spiral of self-doubt threatening to consume you. His hand found your shoulder, his touch firm and grounding, pulling you back from the edge of your own unraveling. The contact was startling at first, his touch warmer and steadier than you expected, cutting through the noise in your head like a lifeline.

It was a simple gesture, but it felt like an anchor in the storm, grounding you when everything else seemed to be slipping away. Hotch's touch was rare, almost unheard of, he was always so composed with his steady presence always keeping his distance, preferring words over gestures. But this, the solid weight of his hand on your shoulder, meant more than he could ever say.

His touch was warm, steady, a silent assurance that seeped past your defenses. It wasn’t just a comforting squeeze; it was Hotch’s way of saying what he rarely ever said aloud: I’ve got you. You’re safe. We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.

The unspoken promise behind that touch cut through the chaos and fear, wrapping around you like a shield against the overwhelming feeling of guilt and self-doubt. It was as if he was lending you his strength, even for just a heartbeat, and in that moment, it was enough to keep you from completely falling apart.

“We’ve alerted local law enforcement,” Hotch said, his voice lower, more gentle now, the usual edge softened as if he was speaking directly to the turmoil inside you. “They’re securing the area. The unsub’s been targeting public spaces to create fear and chaos, but we won’t let him succeed. Not here, not today.” His words were calm, steady, the kind of reassurance that cut through the panic clawing at your chest.

You nodded, the knot in your throat tightening painfully as you fought to swallow the rising wave of emotion. The breath you drew felt unsteady, like the first real one you’d managed in minutes, but even as you tried to gather yourself, the stark reality of how close you’d come to danger clung to you, gnawing at the edges of your composure.

Hotch’s hand stayed firm on your shoulder, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and unnerving. It was a constant, quiet reminder of your vulnerability, a presence that made it impossible to hide from the fear you so often buried deep.

Desperate to shift the mood, you forced a strained smile, hoping to lighten the heaviness in the air. “Since we’re all here… how about we grab dinner?” you suggested, your voice wavering but hopeful. “There’s this local spot I used to go to when I was a kid. It’s nothing fancy, just this cozy little place, but it’s familiar, and… I could really use some company that feels like home right now.”

Hotch’s hand lingered for a moment longer, as if he was reluctant to let go, his touch a silent reassurance that even in your most vulnerable moments, he was right there with you. The smallest flicker of understanding passed between you, unspoken but felt deeply, as if he knew exactly why you needed this, why you needed them.

Peter’s grin was immediate, though it was tinged with the lingering shadows of what could have been. He clapped his hands together, trying to inject some much-needed levity into the moment. “Now you’re speaking my language. Food, friends, and hopefully a strong drink or two. What do you say, Hotch?”

Hotch hesitated, his mind still half-entangled in the day’s events and the potential dangers that loomed. But then he looked at you, really looked - saw the exhaustion etched into your features, the traces of pain you’d been carrying since your father’s grave. He knew this wasn’t just about a meal; it was about finding a moment of respite, about reconnecting when the job tore so much away.

“I’ll join you,” Hotch said quietly, his voice softer than you’d expected. “But I’ll catch up in a bit. There’s something I need to take care of first.”

You watched him turn back toward the cemetery, his figure fading into the sea of gravestones. It wasn’t like Hotch to delay; he was always so determined, so single-minded when it came to the job. But you sensed this wasn’t just about duty, it was about finding his own moment of stillness in a day that had been anything but.

Peter placed a comforting hand on your back, his touch gentle and familiar, guiding you toward the restaurant with an ease that belied the day’s tension. The small, local eatery was exactly as you remembered: warm, inviting, with the kind of worn wooden tables that made you feel instantly at home. The faint hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the windows, all of it wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

Rossi and Gideon joined soon after, settling in with the kind of camaraderie that came only from years of shared battles and late-night stakeouts. There was a tiredness in all of you, a bone-deep fatigue that only people in your line of work truly understood, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t just about the job - it was about being together, about finding solace in each other’s presence.

Rossi leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with a blend of mischief and genuine curiosity. “So, thesis, antithesis, synthesis,” he mused, his voice carrying that familiar hint of amusement. “Come on, kid. Educate us. What’s that all about in these weird Hegelian stuff you always talk about?”

You chuckled softly, grateful for the distraction. “It’s about the constant cycle of conflict and resolution. The synthesis - the so-called solution - doesn’t end the cycle; it just becomes the new thesis. Life is always evolving, always challenging us to adapt. Every resolution leads to a new conflict, a new question. It’s never really over.”

Rossi nodded thoughtfully, his gaze flicking between you and the empty seat that Hotch had yet to fill. “Sounds like something we could all stand to remember,” he said, his tone softer now, more reflective.

Meanwhile, back at the cemetery, Hotch stood alone in front of your father’s grave, the silence hanging heavy and profound. The orchid you had placed there was still fresh, its vibrant petals striking against the cold, unyielding stone.

Hotch understood the significance of that flower, the way it linked back to the very first case you’d ever worked at the BAU, the first time your paths had crossed.

It was the unsub’s calling card, a chilling detail that had haunted the case and marked the start of your journey in this unforgiving world. It was the first time he saw you not just as another agent but as someone uniquely brilliant, fiercely determined, and carrying a burden that ran deeper than anyone could have guessed.

Hotch knelt slowly, the memories of that first meeting mingling with the present, a bittersweet reminder of how far you both had come. He thought of you standing in that briefing room, so composed and meticulous, always immaculate in your appearance.

Your hair, always perfectly straightened, framing your face in a precise way that left nothing to chance. You wore black almost every day, the monochrome only broken by subtle variations in texture: sleek, tailored fabrics that gave the faintest hint of depth but no room for distraction.

He knew it wasn’t just a preference; it was armor, a way to command respect in a field that often doubted you because of your youth. On days when you felt a little lighter, a little braver, you’d occasionally allow yourself the small rebellion of a white shirt, a glimpse of something softer beneath the carefully crafted exterior.

He remembered noticing the deliberate choices you made, how you often wore masculine, tailored suits, sometimes even a three-piece, to project authority and mask the youth that others might use against you.

You were always striving to appear older, tougher, less vulnerable, less feminine, crafting an image that demanded to be taken seriously. And while it worked on most, Hotch never needed the sharp suits, the perfectly placed hair, or the carefully chosen colors to see your worth.

From the beginning, he had valued your insights, your sharp mind, and your relentless drive. He had never looked down on you, never needed you to prove yourself in ways that others did. He saw past the façade to the strength and vulnerability beneath, and he respected you all the more for it.

As he placed the small replica of the Guggenheim Museum beside the orchid, the gesture felt heavy with meaning - a tribute not only to your father but also to the history you both carried.

It was an offering of understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of everything unsaid between you. As Hotch lingered by the grave, he couldn’t help but think of the first day he met you, how determined you were to make your mark, and how, even then, he had been grateful for your presence. You challenged him in ways that reminded him of why he had started this journey, refusing to let the darkness win.

For a moment, Hotch allowed himself to feel it all: the gratitude for having met you, the fear of losing those he cared about, and the faint, fragile hope that maybe, he could find a way to let someone in without losing himself completely. As he stood there, surrounded by the quiet of the cemetery, he found a flicker of peace, a rare, delicate solace that, for the first time in years, made him feel less alone.

When Hotch finally made his way to the restaurant, the sight that greeted him was a balm to his weary soul. You were seated at the table, laughing at something Peter had said, your eyes sparkling with a light that had been missing all day. Rossi and Gideon were leaning back, more at ease than he had seen them in a long time, their expressions softened in a way that only moments like this could bring out - rare and fleeting for men who had spent their lives chasing shadows. It was a simple scene, but it was enough.

It was a reminder of why Hotch fought so hard, why he kept pushing forward, even when the weight of his responsibilities felt like too much to bear.

Without hesitation, Hotch took the seat directly across from you, mirroring the way your desks were always arranged back at the office.

It was deliberate, instinctual - a configuration that felt as natural as breathing. There was comfort in this alignment, in the way his eyes always found yours first, no matter how hectic the day had been. It wasn’t just about proximity; it was about connection.

Sitting across from you allowed him to see you fully, to catch those fleeting, unguarded moments when the professional masks slipped, and the real you shone through.

It was the angle that felt right, where he could read the subtle shifts in your expression, the small smiles that hinted at unspoken thoughts. It was where he could feel the bond between you most acutely, a silent acknowledgment of the trust and understanding that had grown over time.

You looked up as Hotch sat down, your gaze meeting his with a warmth that said more than words ever could. In that moment, the noise of the restaurant faded away, leaving only the quiet understanding that had always existed between you.

It was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you, anchored by the familiar rhythm of shared space, the unspoken promises that bound you together. You had always understood each other in ways that transcended words - both driven by the same relentless need for justice, both carrying the weight of lives you couldn’t always save.

“I thought you’d never come, partner,” you greeted him, your voice carrying a mix of relief and something deeper, something that spoke to how much his presence truly mattered. It wasn’t just relief, it was comfort, knowing that he was here, that he always showed up, no matter what.

Hotch’s response was immediate, his voice softened with sincerity. “How could I miss this?”

The words were simple but carried so much more meaning. It wasn’t just a casual remark, not from him. It felt like a reaffirmation of something deeper, a silent promise that went beyond tonight.

It was a declaration that he was there, not just for this moment, but always. His presence was grounding, steady, the kind of anchor you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but reflect on how everything had unfolded - especially the train journey that had brought you to this point.

Or how the out-of-the-blue conversation with Rossi about Hegel’s thesis, antithesis, and synthesis now felt almost fated, as though the universe had nudged him to ask you once again – to make you acknowledge the truth you kept hidden within you.

Maybe the irony was the point: Hegel’s idea of the synthesis, the resolution that comes from the collision of opposing forces, was exactly where you found yourself.

The journey to self-awareness wasn’t linear; it was filled with contradictions, moments of doubt, and unexpected realizations.

Every step you had taken, every case, every sleepless night, now made sense, as if you had reached a vantage point from which you could see it all clearly for the first time.

It was like standing on the top of a mountain after a long, hard climb, finally able to look back at the winding path that had led you here.

And standing at that vantage point, you could see why you had been hesitant about the date with Peter, why something in you had resisted moving forward with him. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about him - it was because your heart had already chosen someone else.

The truth settled in gently, like a quiet revelation you had always known but hadn’t fully accepted until now.

It was Hotch.

It had always been Hotch.

The connection between you, the understanding, the trust that went deeper than words, it was more than just friendship or partnership.

You had admired him, respected him, but now you could see it for what it really was.

The reason you had hesitated, the reason you hadn’t been eager for anything else, was because the person you truly wanted was sitting right across from you.

You had a crush on Aaron Hotchner.

●

Extras: here are some pics of the Guggenheim Museum by Frank Lloyd Wright! It inspired me to write the case you read in "Thesis" and Aaron Hotchner to show his love support to Y/N in this chapter.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 3

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change—Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Mention of Sex (the word is pronounced once)

Words count: 3.3k

chapter 1 - chapter 2

It’s 4 a.m. when the alarm rings and the shrill melody is a relief to Osamu’s ears.

The man hasn’t been able to sleep a wink all night. First, he found the futon way too hot to his liking and in an attempt to cool down he tried to slide onto the tatami mat, but it turned out to be way too cold this time (if only he had someone pressed against him, maybe that could help find the perfect balance). Then, he remembered the words he told his brother—sure ‘Tsumu acted like a spoiled brat but ending the year angry at him left a weird bittersweet taste in his mouth (he wished he had someone he could express this feeling to, someone who would listen and reassure him.) And finally, finally, he couldn’t calm the rapid beats of his heart each time he remembered that only a small corridor was separating you from him (and if only that someone he needed was you, he thought dismissively somewhere between dusk and dawn).

So, when the alarm rings, even though it means waking up, driving another hour and a half and opening the restaurant, he is relieved.

Osamu can’t decipher whether you had a good sleep or not when he joins you in the kitchen a few minutes later.

You have a cup in your hands and you’re glancing at the window. He turns his face to where you’re looking. The snow has melted. The world outside is silent, untouched by the morning light.

“Hi.” You tell him calmly; he didn’t realise you had noticed his presence.

He smiles in response as you put your cup of tea away, “should we go?”

“After ya.”

His words make you laugh a little, you cover your mouth with your hand and answer, “It’s way too early but you’re already such a gentleman.”

“Always with ya.”

Osamu doesn’t know if it’s because he’s not fully awake (or asleep) but his voice comes out so seriously that you widen your eyes slightly and a faint red hue creeps across your cheeks, and to the tips of your ears. Your eye contact stops after a few seconds, but it’s more than enough to fill Osamu’s lungs with an air he had never quite breathed before. If it had lasted longer, the man is convinced he would have melted, like the snow, in an unfair way.

You both thank Grandma Yumie for her hospitality. She doesn’t hide her will to welcome you again any time of the year, at any hour of the day.

“Take care of each other.” She ends up saying. A quick glance at Osamu makes it's obvious that she specially addressed those words to him.

It’s so cold inside the car, Osamu doesn’t wait for your arms to shiver to give you his hoodie. A grin slips through your lips when you put it on and notice how big it is for you. Your eyes seem a little bit glassy not because you cried but because of the lack of sleep. You probably found the bed too cold or too hot just like him, Osamu concludes.

“Ya can sleep if ya want. I’ll try not to drive too fast.”

“Nah, I've got to keep you company. What a bad co-pilot I would make if I fell asleep.” You sound a little proud when you say that, he finds you cute.

“Co-pilot? Ya distract me most of the time.”

You straighten suddenly and frown, “What? How dare you-”

“Say bye to Oba-san.” He starts the engine and waves at the old lady who stayed by the door to watch you leave.

You click your tongue, “Shut up.”

The ride is, without surprise, quiet. It’s not the quiet of yesterday due to Osamu’s bad mood—it’s a comfortable quiet. The kind that seems to be in harmony with the nature outside who’s slowly awakening

Osamu drives mostly on instinct. He tries to think about the day coming ahead to keep his focus: first he needs to wash the rice, then he will cut the cucumbers, prepare the sauce… He enumerates the list in his head. It’s gonna be a long day, he realises.

He sighs loudly, the sound filling the otherwise silent car.

You’ve been so calm that Osamu starts to think you might’ve fallen asleep. He risks a glance at you, your head resting lightly against the window. The sight both distracts and grounds him.

Something inside his chest is warm.

Unknowingly, a new rhythm has settled in his heart. When did it start? Maybe it has always been like that with you (peaceful, obvious). It’s so pleasant, Osamu wouldn’t mind feeling it for the rest of his life.

“Osamu, stop.” You suddenly exclaim and in a split second the man, lost in thoughts, is brought down to earth.

He does stop on the roadside, and you get out of the car.

He’s confused, almost worried, at first, so he follows you but soon all his fears disappear.

“Look. The sun is rising. I’ve never seen the sky like that before.” Your amazement is that of a child, your voice is high, and you run to the edge of the cliff to get even closer to the panorama. Osamu sees your chest rise and fall as you take in the air, “It’s beautiful.”

Osamu blinks.

No, you’re beautiful, is the only thought running through his head. But honestly, when are you not? Although, he just notices it now.

A ray of sunlight falls perfectly on your face, and he wants to kiss you.

Fuck.

He really wants to kiss you. Irresistibly. Outrageously. Unconditionally so.

The background seems like a mere white noise to his ears. You’re telling him how pretty the view is again, but he doesn’t care. All seven wonders could stand in front of him but that would not satisfy his eyes compared to that sight of you, bathed in the sun.

Look away, look away, he tries to convince himself. Look at where she’s pointing. But it’s too late now. He’s mesmerised by the moves of your hair, captivated by the features of your face, he suddenly feels like he’s losing all sense of will but still, it feels good. It’s freeing him.

Because everything makes sense now.

The discomfort he feels when you call him “friend”, the desire to live in a house with you, the feeling of protection he constantly shows towards you, the new rhythm that his heart is beating to.

It’s because he is in love with you.

He wants to stop time and never go back to Osaka. He wants to stay there, watching you smile. Gosh, the sunrise looks so good on you, it’s probably becoming his favourite colour.

You catch him looking and smile, “by the way.” You start and he has to pinch his arm to refocus, “Happy New Year.”

On January 1st, at 5 a.m., Miya Osamu realises that the love of his life has been standing before him for a decade.

Atsumu has been waiting in front of Onigiri Miya for an hour.

The cold bites at his skin and seeps into his bones like a river entering a cave and flooding it. After avoiding death from fratricide, he is now convinced he will succumb to hypothermia.

He sits against the wall, hands deep in his pockets, seeking warmth. He curses himself for not bringing gloves (it’s always Osamy who remembers that kind of stuff). Maybe his fingers are going to freeze and break and fall—his career will be over soon, farewell National Team, goodbye Olympics.

When his brother’s car finally pulls up, he jumps.

“I’ve never been so happy to see ya.” He exclaims, eyes on the verge of tears. “How was yer ride? Ya must be tired. Can I do somethin’ to help?”

His eyes dart toward Osamu, and you can see the guilt written all over his face as he talks. But his twin only glowers at him before walking straight past him and opening the restaurant.

The older brother clears his throat and glances at you, clearly unsure of what to do.

You put your hand on his arm and suggest gently that he should get the rice bags from the car while you start cleaning the counter and getting the tables ready.

Atsumu hesitates for a moment before nodding, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah... alright.”

Inside the restaurant, Osamu watches you take off your shoes and pick up the broom. “Ya should go home and sleep,” he says quietly before taking a glimpse at the other man still outside, “both of ya.”

You shake your head and smile. “Don’t be stupid, Osamu. Atsumu and I are happy to help. We’ll sleep later. Right?”

Atsumu finally lumbers inside with the first bag of rice slung over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, his brother remains unusually calm. There’s no yelling or anger—just silence. And for Atsumu, the silence is worse.

“What?- Oh yeah, of course, we’ll help. Ya don’t have to worry, go to yer kitchen and make us some good onigiri. Like always. ‘Cause yer a great chef, ya know. The best I should say. The best of the best.” Each sentence comes out more awkward than the previous and it takes everything in you not to laugh at how he stumbles over his words.

But Osamu only sighs in response before grabbing the rice bag from Atsumu.

Something about his attitude makes the blond twin uneasy. As he passes by you, he leans down and whispers into your ear, “D’ya think he’s still angry at me?”

“Maybe a little bit.” You say back, trying to keep your voice low. “But don’t worry, I’m sure it will be over soon if you help him today.”

Osamu glances over with furrowed brows, his eyes narrowing slightly as he catches you both whispering. “Yer helpin’ or not?” His voice is devoid of his usual teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah, comin’.”

Atsumu hurriedly runs back outside to finish the job.

You don’t see each other for the next few days. At first, Osamu thinks it’s for the better. He has been awfully busy since the beginning of the year—which has been a greater success than he had planned. He likes his job because of how different each day is. If a day is calm, the next can be swarming, if sometimes he takes the time to discuss with the workers who come for their lunchtime, another time he will enjoy the silence of the off-peak hour. He tries to innovate in what he makes depending on the seasonal products or fresh fish of the market. It’s never repetitive, always new.

He can say he is content with his job.

So, when the second week of January starts, he thinks he deserves to rest (and he probably needs to).

But he immediately regrets it when he finds himself unable to fall asleep. He closes the restaurant earlier than usual and goes to the konbini to buy that eggs and mayo sandwich he has been craving for months (Osamu prefers homecooked food but a little treat now and then is always welcomed). He gets home, lies down on his couch and turns on the TV. He learns about how Tibetan Sand Foxes like to prey on pikas (why do they look like Suna by the way? Suna, his former teammate, your ex, your first love, the guy who broke your heart, the only boy you ever dated, ever loved, ever had sex with-). His heart misses a beat. He immediately skips to the next channel. There’s a documentary about street food in Hong Kong, but only a few minutes in, he turns the TV off. This reminds him too much of work and tonight is supposed to be about anything but work. His life is dedicated to food now, and he won’t change anything about it, but at the same time, his brain needs a break from the one thing he knows best.

So, he grunts and lies down flat on his back, hands behind his neck.

He looks at the ceiling and tries to clear his mind. He thinks that resting like this will help his head wind down, but the more he tries to relax, the more his thoughts turn chaotic.  

What are you doing right now? He wonders. You are in Aomori with Atsumu and the rest of the team. Perhaps you’re making a video with Bokuto or eating apple pie with Hinata (stop thinking about food ya moron). Is Sakusa near you? Are you talking to him? Looking at him? How does that make you feel? Maybe thinking about food is a better idea because Osamu suddenly feels his muscles tightening and a dull ache settles from his lower abdomen to his chest.

He hasn’t seen you often this week when work took you away, and that was fine—he was busy too. But these past few days, the empty space where your presence used to be felt bigger. It was like a silence he wasn’t used to, one that lingered too long after the noise of the day had died down.

Without realising it, his eyes close. His body, heavy with the fatigue he refuses to acknowledge, finally gives in.

When he wakes up, he is sitting on a chair, it’s stiff and uncomfortable. He blinks a few times to get used to the light.

“We’re going to the cafeteria, you’re coming?”

He doesn’t recognise Suna’s monotonous voice at first, but still, the middle blocker is here, standing in front of him. His hair is long, and he is wearing their high school uniform.

Osamu opens his mouth, once, twice, before looking around him. He is in his second-year classroom. He looks at his hands, there’s dry and bruised, from volleyball ?

“What yer doin’ here?” he says to no one at all.

Suna is gone.

When he turns around, you are with your ex-boyfriend.

“I love you.” He hears Suna say, “Be my girlfriend.”

Osamu wants to get up, but his body doesn’t move.

He knows something is irrational about the whole situation. First, he graduated from high school years ago, and then Suna would never confess in front of everyone.

However, there’s an urge inside of him to stop you from giving an answer. He wants to tell you to say no for you deserve better than Suna. Don’t choose him, choose me, he wants to tell you.

But he is glued to the chair.

“Fuck.” He groans before hitting his forehead on the table.

“Where’s Sakusa-san?” You finally reply.

Your voice is so soft, Osamu thinks you sound like peace in the middle of chaos.

He lifts his face and sees you. You’re taller and your cheeks are thinner, you don’t look like the teenager you once were. Suna has disappeared and you’re in Osaka’s gym.

The boy doesn’t look around this time to understand what he is doing here. Nothing makes sense anyway.

He knows he has to join you before Sakusa does.

“Wait.” He exclaims and starts running towards you. But you don’t hear him.

He shouts your name, perhaps his throat will ripe from screaming too loud. That doesn’t matter because he needs you to listen to him, “Sakusa doesn’t know ya can’t sleep if ya don’t have a cup of tea, black tea, not white, not green, but black. He doesn’t know ya prefer boiled eggs instead of poached and that yer tongue itches if ya eat the skin of peaches.” He has stopped running now and is almost out of breath, “Ya used to love spring, but ya don’t anymore, ‘cause ya have allergies and ya think summer is better because it’s the season of fireworks and festivals and… and-”

He wants to keep going but he is suddenly overwhelmed by all the things he knows about you (everything); and all the things he wants to learn about you (anything).

He sinks on his knees.

“I don’t know where we are and am so tired, but I love ya, I love ya, I love ya.”

There’s a sensation of greatness once the words have come out of his lips. It’s infinite and endless.

His eyes are directed to the polished floor. He sees tears falling on his hands and wetting his fingers.

You don’t answer and when he looks up, the scenery has changed again. He is on top of a mountain, sat on the grass. When he decides to stand up, he wonders where you are. Have you heard him? Or has he lost his chance to tell you how he feels?

A warm hand rests on his shoulder, “Osamu-kun.” It’s the feeble but gentle voice of his grandma, “For yer words to be heard, ya need to face the truth.”

“I should have realised I loved her sooner, in high school, I should have dated her, not Suna, not him, me.” There’s panic not only in his tone but in his heart. His hands start shaking.

“This is not about ya, this is about her.”

He doesn't listen to the old lady, “How am I supposed to forget her now? What should I do? Our friendship will be ruined because of me. Grandma’ I-I’m screwed.”

“Give her yer heart, fully.”

“But what if-”

“Son,” her voice is firmer now, “don’t you dare run away.”

The sun is rising when Osamu looks to his right. How is he supposed to spend a lifetime showing you how he feels when it took him a fraction of a second to fall in love with you ?

Loving you is crushingly beautiful but painfully right.

A loud noise resonates in his ears. Does it sound like keys? Or a door opening? Or footsteps?—

The moment that follows he cracks his eyes open.

“Don’t tell me ya were sleepin’?” Atsumu bursts into the living room. “We came back a day earlier. I'm hungry.”

“We?” Osamu asks. His eyelids are heavy with the weight of sleep and when he tries to sit, he feels his head spin.

“I brought apple pie.”

You appear in his field of vision and lean towards him. His heart beats differently now.

You smile with all your teeth, it’s brighter than the sunrise, and he finally realises that a few minutes ago he was dreaming (about you).

“Do you want to have a bite?” You ask him.

This isn’t supposed to happen, he thinks, his heart isn’t supposed to ache like that, he isn’t supposed to hate the stupid distance between you (a meter? Maybe less? Even a centimetre would be too much anyway). It’s ridiculous but he finds himself wanting to break it. But Osamu is not stupid, he can question everything, and analyse his feelings in every sense, he can’t hide it. Dream or not, whether you’re here or away for days, he’s madly in love with you. He will not need a third realisation to admit it, it’s clear that he wants you now.

“You look exhausted.”

There’s worry on your face as you frown. You’re about to put your hand on his forehead to take his temperature but his instinct orders him to avoid your touch, so he gets on his feet and goes to the kitchen.

“I really want to try that apple pie, I’ll put the oven on to warm it up.” He probably sounds fake but that’s the only escape he can think of. He doesn’t want to turn to you because your arms are probably crossed and lips turned into a pout (you always do that when you’re upset but Osamu finds it cute).

Once he’s far enough from you, his face starts to burn, he puts his hands on his cheeks as if it would make the flush go away.

He feels like a teenager crushing on his classmate.

But he can't run away anymore.

author notes: not a lot of action but a lot of feeling, what do you guys think?

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt

[s1ckh1mb0]

———————————————————————

“Bitch where the fuck are you!”

“Shit, at home. I’m not coming out, I told y’all that already.”

“What? Bitch stop playing. For real, where are you at?”

You looked at your phone dumbfounded for a moment before bringing the phone back to your ear.

“What are you talking about? I’m home. Like I said. I’m not coming out, I told y’all I don’t be drinking and shit like that no more. I got kids to worry about.”

“You’re a fucking weirdo you know that? You got with that man and all of a sudden you wanna pretend like you got your shit together. You are just like the rest of us. When you decide to quit being an uppity bitch let us know.”

You all but jumped through your phone before you heard her hang up. This was why you wiener hang out with them. They always hated when people were successful. Anything good that happened to you they just find some way to make it seem like you were trying to come off as better than them.

When you graduated from school, whenever you got your hair done, whenever you did something good at school work, they just hated it. The worst was when you got with Bruce. They were just spiteful. Bruce was a good man. A man that many wanted, but he was the one that you got.

“Those bitches are weird man, almost forty and all they wanna do is club and shit. Like be for real. And then wanna get mad at me for not wanting to go out and be messy. Weird ass hoes.”

Bruce was listening to you talk about the girls who constantly blew your phone up asking to go out and get drunk. His hands massaging your freshly done feet. He was never really the biggest fan of anyone honestly, but those girls especially. Loud and obnoxious, always doing nothing but gossiping.

They had nothing going for them and he could easily see that. That’s the reason he told you to distance your self. Those aren’t the people you needed to be around. He was doing his best to provide you a soft life when he wasn’t busy, no way in hell were some random bitches about to ruin that for you.

“You might as well block their number. No need to keep in contact anymore.”

You were frustrated but knew he was right. You would have to. You recentered yourself and your life to be the new person that your happiness allowed. You just needed to get rid of the last few things that were ruining your energy.

“You’re right. I’m happy, I don’t need that bitterness in our life.”

Bruce let out a hearty chuckle and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. A comfortable silence as his hands roamed your body. Just taking in every dip and curve. It was like art to him.

“I’m hungry.”

You and Bruce turned around only to faced with your little toddler stepson, Damian. The small four year old made his way to you, pushing his father’s hands away from you before plopping on to your lap like nothing. This was nothing new, you were his favorite parent. You moved your phone off your lap as you took the small boy into your arms.

“It’s two in the morning Damian, you’re supposed to be sleep.”

“Hungry.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at the boy and watched as you walked off with him to get him a snack before putting him back to bed. He took the time to go on your phone and block every single one of the girls. No way in his was someone about to ruin the love of his life’s happiness.

[belovedivies]

Hello👋 I was wondering how would the skinless chicken-I MEAN Nathanael interact with Raphael's older sibling?😅

cw: minor spoiler dividers-credit: @kodaswrld m.list

nathaniel and you…

⋆ ˚｡⋆are the epitome of a match made in hell! We have a body dissection loving maniac who breaks guns with bare hands and a sociopath whose father you buried for the throne that your brother now occupies. Of course, you guys get along like a house on fire.

⋆ ˚｡⋆surprisingly have the time to hang out. You always find a way to forcefully squeeze yourself into his schedule, like dropping by unannounced during his night shifts so you can whip him away for a few minutes! The nurses and patients mistake you two for a couple all the time, something Nathaniel doesn’t bother to clarify anymore.

⋆ ˚｡⋆share what can almost be considered as a bond despite the chaos going on. Aside from Raphael, he’s the one guy whose company you somewhat enjoy and find amusement in. You’re also the only girl who gets to spray deodorant in this scary man’s face and don’t end up being slammed against the wall. It’s a win-win! ☪︎ ･ﾟ ･Nathaniel... begrudgingly acknowledges the influence you have on Glory Club. How a fragile-looking woman can command fear and respect without trying. He, though, still has a hard time wrapping his head around the mind-boggling jokes you blurt out sometimes versus the cruelty you’re capable of inflicting. One night, after a quick patient checkup, the Apostle found you in the hallway along with two of his men out cold on the floor, their hands and legs bent at all different angles. Then you just ran up to him with a smile, never elaborating on what happened. ☪︎ ･ﾟ ･You... think Nathaniel’s pride now might as well be his downfall. He’s strong, he’s smart, and he has potential. But this is THE Peter we’re talking about. If that boogeyman is lurking around the corner and somehow still as unbeatable as he was 50 years ago, Nathaniel—even in all his evolutionary glory—statistically stands no chance of surviving. And if he is lucky enough to just barely make it out alive, the man’s ego is gonna be damaged for good. ☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

“It’s so cold out here…” You tugged your legs underneath your chin and let out a loud yawn, wiggling your feet. “I thought the rainy season ended last week?”

Five centimeters away from you on the bench, Nathaniel leisurely sipped on his Americano. “High humidity levels,” he set the cup aside, “so your clothes might get saturated by the moisture in the air.”

“Huh, guess that’s why I’m still shivering in these 70D stockings—“ mid-sentence, your eyes widened when the guy suddenly took off his blouse and draped it over your lap. “Thanks.”

Nathaniel just shrugged and picked up his drink again. Two nurses walked by and cooed at the scene, though you weren’t sure if the attention was on you or him, or the playing-house act he had been tolerating for a while.

You scanned your surroundings: the hospital’s courtyard was mostly empty at this point. A few elderly patients hung out in the right corner of a dimly lit cafeteria, doing their nighttime stretches. When you look up, a billboard on the side of the building greeted your eyes—a picture of an old-looking Peter with his back hunched. The bounty flashed beneath it in place of the contact number for donation: 7,6 Billion Won.

“Kim Soongu…” The words left your lips as an afterthought, but then you caught Nathaniel’s jaws clenching in your peripheral vision with the coffee cup suddenly crushed to a pulp in his palm, a river of brown dripping to the ground.

The awkward silence didn’t even last for three seconds before a hysterical fit of laughter left your throat as you clung to your stomach.

“Holy fuck—“ snickering, you leaned against Nathaniel’s side like you two were having a sleepover. “Look at the way you got your panties in a twist with just the mention of his name. Is he that good?”

Your slightly-closer-than-an-acquaintance furrowed his eyebrows and answered through gritted teeth. “Brat…”

“Annoying too?” you mirrored his cocked brow with amusement, cheek leaning on his shoulder as you watched the guy slip off his beverage-soaked glove, “didn’t the stats say Soongu is just another D-rank killer though?”

“Not it from my observation.” Nathaniel huffed. “He had some untapped potential. Having him on my team would be… beneficial.”

You tilted your head. “For…?”

“Taking down Peter,” he looked a little irritated at your constant questioning, but ultimately decided not to show that frustration. Instead, Nathaniel’s raspy voice took on what seemed to be a teasing note; his lips curled up into an easy-going smile as the man flicked your forehead.

“So much for your plastic surgery idea, princess.”

“Ow—!” You squealed, touching the violated skin; he wasn’t even using force and you could already feel a bump rising. “What do you mean? So it wasn’t him?”

“It’s real skin from what I felt.” Nathaniel ran a hand over his hair. “Tch, whatever. When he shows up tomorrow, I’ll definitely find out.”

Tomorrow. You tucked your legs further under your chin, eyes still trained on him.

“Hyun Il.”

“?”

The Apostle turned his head towards you.

“You’re 100% likely to die.”

“Doubtful, aren’t we?”

You let out a giggle. “You wanna hear me say it?”

Nathaniel’s gaze hardened. “I will win.”

Cute.

A sigh left your lips as you stared up at the dark sky above. It was a relatively starless night, but there were still some lonely orbs twinkling if you squinted hard enough.

Some saw themselves as the sun—the center of this universe with planets orbiting around them. Constantly striving for a new high. Yet there were bound to be limits. A wall in between. Something, someone who might just show up one day and render all of their efforts useless.

How incompetent we were in the grand scheme of things.

☪︎ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･❂

"Planning to dig up his body?"

Raphael's comment earns a small smile from you. Taking your little brother's hand, you stand up from where you have been crouching on the ground for the last few minutes.

"Nathaniel doesn't need to be physically here to haunt me," you hum playfully while his fingers brush off the imaginary dust on your hair. "Jokes aside, he's cremated. I'm surprised to find out that could still work without the furnace blowing up; he's like a walking T vessel."

"Mhm…"

"Found anything at the scene?"

At your inquiry, Raphael's brows drawn together in a way that reminds you of Nathaniel. Then again, frustration doesn't have a second face.

"Tch, nothing at all." His grip around your shoulders tighten. "That bastard vanished without a trace."

All the killers dying… so that really was Peter's doings. You've seen the outcome from miles away, yet who is to say the result doesn't baffle you in the slightly? What Glory Club is dealing with here is no longer a human being.

"Hey, Raphael…" for a second, the face of an unfamiliar teenager pops up in your mind—black hair, red eyes that hold an immaculate sense of authority, "do you think that…"

"Yes?" Your brother tilted his head. There's a lump in your throat that is suddenly too hard to swallow.

"Nevermind," as quick as that eerie hypothesis comes to be, you forcefully swat it away; a sharp edge to your smile, "let's get back, shall we? It's gonna start raining soon."

[hiro--aoki]

TWD X TUMBLR Chapter Three: Stick Together

Tw: Mentions of rascism, use of N-word slur (again 😰), mentions of drugs, catcalling, say bye bye to a character

A/n: procrastination really is my enemy atm. literally kept you guys waiting longer than i intended, my bad fam. this is a very long chapter 💪🤫🧏‍♂️🤫

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Rick picks up the gun Merle dropped, checking the ammo, “Look here, Merle. Things are different now. There is no n***** anymore. There are no dumb as shit, inbred white trash fools either. Only dark meat and white meat. There’s us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together not apart.”

Merle slowly turns his head to Rick and says defiantly, “Screw you, man.”

Rick takes a breath, “I can see you make a habit of missing the point.”

“Yeah, well screw you twice.”

“Outa be polite to a man with a gun,” Rick brings Merle’s own gun to his head, mocking him with his own words, “Only common sense.”

The rest of the group watch the interaction, still recovering from Merle’s minute long power trip.

“You wouldn’t,” Merle challenges, “You’re a cop.”

Rick lowers his gun, “All I am anymore, is a man looking for his wife and son. Anyone who gets in the way of that is gonna lose.”

The two of them hold silent eye contact for a few seconds.

Rick breaks the silence again, and starts to check Merle’s pockets, “I’ll give you a moment to think about that.”

He pulls out a little box. He recognises it instantly from his years as an officer. Rick grabs Merle’s chin, forcing him to look up.

“Got some on your nose there,” Rick gives a flick to his nose.

“What’re you gonna do? Arrest me?” Merle mocks.

It’s only at this point he notices Rick walking over to the edge of the roof. Rick tosses the drugs over the side of the building.

“Hey! What’re you doing?! That’s my stuff! If I get loose, you better pray!” Merle says, pulling his wrist, trying escape his restraints.

Rick starts to walk to another side of the roof, Morales following.

“You hear me, you pig? You hear me?!” Merle continues to rant over his drugs like a Scooby Doo villain would after they’ve been caught.

“Yeah, your voice carries.”  Artemis says, shooting a much-deserved glare at Merle.

“You filthy pig!” Merle ignores her and keeps trying to twist his way out of the handcuffs.

Rick leans against a ledge, looking over the city. The streets are still filled with the relentless walkers. Thunder rolls in the distance, louder than Merle. Morales stands next to Rick.

“You’re not Atlanta PD.” He states, “Where are you from?”

Rick thinks for a second, before answering, “Up the road aways.”

“Well Officer Friendly, from up the road aways, welcome to the big city.”

They both turn back to the shuffling, decaying nightmares as they moan and groan their way around the city. The streets are infested with them. There’s no way out. Every direction they turn there’s just as many.

On a different ledge, Andrea, Jacqui and Artemis peer over that side.

“It’s like Time’s Square down there.” Andrea states, worry for all their safety is obvious in her tone.

Morales and Rick make their way back to the rest of the group.

“How’s the signal?” Morales asks.

“Like Dixon’s brain.” T-Dog says blankly, “Weak.”

Merle just flips him off in return.

“Keep trying.” Morales orders.

“Why? There’s nothing they can do.” Andrea says, “Not a damn thing.”

“Getting them to come and help us would be telling them to come to their deaths.” Artemis adds.

“Got some people outside the city as well.” Morales explains to Rick, “There’s no refugee centre, that’s a pipe dream.”

“Then she’s right, we’re on our own. It’s up to us to find a way out.” Rick says, his stubborn nature really shining through in such a dim situation.

“Good luck with that.” Merle interrupts, “These streets ain’t safe in this part of town from what I hear.”

Merle then glances at Andrea, shamelessly checking her out, “Ain’t that right, sugar tits?”

That comment makes everyone look over at Merle with some form of disgust. Andrea even looks somewhat offended.

Merle doesn’t stop there, “Hey, honey buns, what say you get me out of these cuffs, we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway.”

“I’d rather.” Andrea states bluntly.

“Rug muncher. I figured as much.” Merle mutters.

“Streets ain’t safe. Now there’s an understatement.” Morales says, standing with Rick.

“What about under the city?” Rick suggests.

“The sewers?”

“Oh man.”

Morales turns to Glenn, “Hey Glenn, check the alley.”

The rest of the group look up at Morales and Rick. Glenn jogs over to the side of the building where he has a clear view of the alley.

“See any manhole covers?” Morales asks.

 Below them, in the alley, two walkers are standing idly but no sewer entries in sight. Glenn jogs back to the group.

“No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are.” He concludes.

Jacqui speaks up, “Maybe not. Old buildings like this, built in the ‘20s. Big structure often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding down in the subbasements.”

“How do you know that?” Glenn questions.

“It’s my job -was-.” She clarifies, “I worked in the city zoning office.”

“I’m surprised, those office jobs do come in handy.” Artemis says.

______________

Morales, Jacqui, Rick, Glenn, Artemis, and Andrea make their way down to the subbasements of the building. They reach the opening of the tunnel. The deep, dark, and damp tunnel. The group point each of their flashlights down into it, illuminating the tunnel slightly.

“Very welcoming.” Artemis mumbles.

“This is it? Are you sure?” Morales asks the group.

“I scoped this place out the other times I was here.” Glenn says, “It’s the only thing in the building that goes down…but I’ve never gone down it.”

“Very promising too.” Artemis adds to her earlier statement.

“Who’d want to, right?” Glenn asks rhetorically.

The group glance over at Glenn, he looks back at them.

It takes him a few seconds to realise; he is the human sacrifice.

“Oh. great.” He mutters.

“We’ll be right behind you-“Andrea tries to say.

Glenn interrupts her, “No, you won’t. Not you.”

Andrea takes this to slight offence, “Why not me? Think I can’t?”

“I wasn’t-“Glenn tries to backpedal.

“Speak your mind.” Rick says firmly.

Glenn takes a minute to think about what he’s going to say.

“Look, until now, I always came by myself. In and out, grab a few things; no problem. First time I bring a group; everything goes to hell.” Glenn says, before adding, “No offense.”

There’s another moment of awkward silence between the group.

“If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine…but only if we do it my way.” As he continues talking, the confidence in Glenn grows a bit more, “It’s tight down there. If I run into something and I have to get out quick, I don’t want you all jammed up behind me, getting me killed.”

“I’ll take one person.” Glenn states.

Rick looks as if he’s just about to volunteer but Glenn stops him.

“Not you either. You’ve got Merle’s gun and I’ve seen you shoot.” Glenn explains, “I’d feel better if you were out in that store, watching those doors, covering our ass.”

Glenn then gestures to Andrea, “You’ve got the only other gun, so you should go with him.”

He then turns to Morales, “You be my wingman. Jacqui and Artemis stay here.  Something happens, yell down to us, get us back up here in a hurry.”

“Okay.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, everyone knows their jobs.” Rick confirms, giving Glenn a pat on his back.

Glenn and Morales start to descend into the very friendly tunnel of hope. After making sure they’re down safely, Andrea and Rick head back up to the shops.

______________

Artemis and Jacqui watch as the other two pairs go and do their assigned jobs. There’s not a long silence before Artemis speaks up.

“What do you think about that Rick guy?”

“He seems decent enough.” Jacqui admits.

“Came out of nowhere and already has your trust? Must be aa sign or something.” Artemis jokes as she leans on the railing of the tunnel.

“You trynna say he’s the ‘chosen one’ or something?” Jacqui smiles.

“Might as well be at this point.”

They both chuckle, enjoying what could be one of their last moments. That is if Rick’s plan doesn’t go accordingly.

_______A Few Minutes Later_______

Morales, Glenn, Jacqui and Artemis come back up to the shops just in time to see the first set of glass doors chatter. The walkers flood the small space that they achieved, leaving only one set of glass doors between them and their dinner.

Rick keeps his eyes on the small army of walkers, “What’d ya found down there?”

“Not a way out.” Morales answers.

“We need to find one. Soon.” Andrea states.

The group agrees, before heading back up to the roof as quick as they can.

_____________

Rick scans across the viewable parts of the not so fabulous city through a pair of binoculars.

“That construction site, those trucks; they always keep keys on hand.” He points out to the desperate group.

Rick passes the binoculars to Morales. Morales looks from the construction site to the streets practically flooded with walkers.

“You’ll make it past the walkers.” Morales mutters.

Rick turns to Glenn, “You got me out of that tank.”

“Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted.” Glenn argues.

_______A Few Minutes Later_______

The groans, moans and shuffling surrounds Rick, Glenn and Artemis as they slowly shuffle through the streets. The stench practically fuming off them and the walkers is nauseating. They walk terribly slow, trying to blend in with the walkers like kids on their first day of school. They slowly inch closer to the yard where they need to get to.

Glenn looks over at the walking corpses. They used to be people. They probably died scared, suffering and alone. Thunder rolls and echoes throughout the streets, interrupting his intrusive thoughts.

Rain starts to slowly and gently fall. Rick looks back at Glenn and Artemis. Glenn’s face holds a stunned expression, whereas Artemis’s holds a worried expression. Rick subtly gestures for them to move faster.

As they near the fence surrounding the construction compound, wakers start to notice that they are in fact, not walkers, and start to walk towards them.

“Shit.” Artemis whispers, as if whispering could save them now.

“Go. Run. Come on.” Rick says.

The group start to run along the asphalt. The walking corpses reach and grab at the three of them. They reach the gate and start climbing. Artemis looks between Rick and Glenn and the oncoming tsunami of walkers. They won’t make it in time.

She pulls off her bag and shoves into Glenn’s hands.

“What are you doing?!” Glenn asks in concern.

“Being a distraction.” She hisses back.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Probably.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Artemis grabs Glenn’s shoulders, “The group needs you to survive. You and Officer Friendly over there. You’re like a brother to me, and if anything happened to me, I would beat myself up so bad if your girlfriend doesn’t beat me to it.”

With that she let’s go of him and starts to move along the fence, in the opposite direction to Glenn and Rick.

“Glenn, come on!” Rick yells.

_______Meanwhile_______

“It’s late, they should’ve been back by now.” Amy says as she paces in from of the RV.

“Girl, calm down, you worry too much.” Delilah says as she makes a daisy chain for Kayden while teaching Lily how to do it.

“They’ll be okay, they’re with Glenn and Artemas.” Lily says as she copies whatever Delilah does with the small flowers.

Dale pokes his head up from working on the RV’s engine, “Worrying won’t make it better.”

Amy lets out a sigh and walks off to occupy herself, in hopes it will make the others return quicker.

“Start it over.” Shane chuckles as he tries to teach Carl how to tie a tight knot.

Carl giggles and does as he says. Kayden watches Carl with fascination. His laughter and determination capturing her in a trance, like pretty much anything Carl does. Lori watches Shane and Carl interact from the clothes like.

The CB comes on, and they hear T-Dog’s voice, “Hello, base camp? Can anybody out there hear me?”

People start to gather around the radio again.

“Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?”

Dale answers it, “Hello? Hello? Receptions bad on this end. Repeat.”

“We’re in some deep shit here.” T-Dog admits, sounding distressed, “We’re trapped in the department store.”

Worried murmurs come from the others and Delilah looks over to Lily with wide eyes.

“Glenn will be okay. He’s the kind of guy to refuse to die until he says, ‘I love you’ one last time.” Lily says to comfort her best friend.

“Geeks…surrounded…of em…” T-Dog’s voice cuts in and out over the line.

“T-Dog can repeat that last bit?” Dale asks.

He just gets static in reply.

“He said the department store.” Lori clarifies.

“I heard it to.” Dale says.

“Shane-“

“He cuts Lori off, “No way. We do not go after them. We don not risk the rest of the group. Ya’ll know that.”

Amy speaks up, “So we’re just gonna leave her there?”

“And Glenn?” Delilah speaks up, her friend’s earlier comfort no longer working.

“Look, Amy, Lilah, I know that this is not easy-“

“They volunteered to go!” Amy argues, “To help the rest of us.”

“I know, and they knew the risks, right?” He states, keeping calm as to not aggravate her any further, “See, if they’re trapped, they’re gone. So we just have to deal with that. There’s nothing we can do.”

“She’s my sister, you son of a bitch.” Amy says as she storms off.

“Dude, your dad is such a downer. “Lily mumbles to Delilah.

She finishes her daisy crown, fitting it nicely on Carl’s head, as Delilah puts the chain around Kayden’s neck.

_______A Few Minutes Later_______

Since the last communication, the mood around the camp has been less than cheerful. The only thing lifting spirits now is Kayden and Carl running around the camp, pretending to be fairies, are being chased by the evil witches, Lily and Delilah.

Suddenly, the loud engine of what can be assumed to be a sports car, echoes throughout the quarry. A bright red car comes into view, driving towards the camp, and stopping right next to the RV. Glenn steps out of the car and looks around the group.

He’s bombarded with people around him, asking if everyone’s okay, telling him to turn the blaring car off, asking him what happened.

Glenn pops the bonnet of the car and Shane turns off the noise. Glenn looks around the group and almost instantly spots a flabbergasted Delilah with a bright pink blush.

He jogs over to her and wraps her in a tight hug. He rests his head on her shoulder and looks like he doesn’t intend on moving for a while. Delilah gathers herself and grabs his face her hands and presses their lips together.

“Ew!” Kayden and Carl squeal, carl covering Kayden’s eyes.

“Yeah, ew!” Lily chuckles and throws grass at the pair.

They break apart and immediately shy away from each other.

“Glenn, where are the others?” Dale asks.

“Coming.” Glenn mumbles, still very much flustered.

Just as he says this, a small truck drives up the road, parking behind the sports car. The group step out. Amy practically jumps tackles Andrea. Morales is just glad to see his wife and kids are still in one piece.

“How’d you all get out of there?” Lori asks.

“Thought you guys were trapped.” Jim adds.

“We were. The new guy got us out.” Morales says.

“New guy?” Dale asks.

“Yeah, crazy vato just got into town. Hey helicopter boy, come meet everyone!” Morales calls out to the truck.

Rick steps out of the truck, taking a few steps towards the new group of faces. He stops in his tracks. Carl and Lily turn to see him. Rick starts to walk toward them, Carl starts sprinting to Rick, his flower crown flying off, Lily not far behind.

“Dad!”

“Dad!”

Carl jumps into Rick’s arms, and Lily hugs them both. After a few seconds Lori joins the hug as well. Carl is sobbing, Lily is also sobbing silently shedding a few tears and Rick is fighting back his own tears. Lori is in shock that Rik is alive after all this time, as is Shane.

The rest of the group watch with wide eyes as the once broken family reunite.

Taglist:

@kookiekult @smutinlove @far-cry-from-finality @zomb-1-egutzz

@shadowybasementmiracle @vaniniweenie @sleep-queen

@frankcastleautism @hisdahlia @carlslvr @zzombiegirl

@lunarnightt @carlmipololo @herrera2k @txrasbae

@a-vampire-bat @coveofthesiren