#I’m kind of upset the first motivation I get for writing I can only share with one person because no one else will get it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mothwingwritings · 23 days

Note

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face.

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head. You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often. And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond? If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now.

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process. Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential. How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him. “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

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ifancyharry · 1 year

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Shitty friend groups

Hello loversss (as Niall Horan would say 😋) happy Christmas!! I'm sorry i went MIA, i was feeling a little down but i'm back now :) just wanted to say thank you to everyone that likes and reblogs what i write, you really do make a difference and motivate me, so thank you! as always, let me know what you think, my ask is always open to talk

Word count: 5K

What is it: Harry gets bullied by YN's friend group; angst; fluff; mentions of blood and anxiety

“Hello, Anne. Is… is Harry home? We were supposed to study together but he… he’s not answering his phone” YN sighed heavily once Anne opened the door, relieved to know someone from the Styles family was home; she knew at least Anne wouldn’t ignore her.

YN and Harry had been dating for a couple of months now, but coming from two different types of friend group, they preferred to keep their newly formed relationship to themselves, Anne being the only once to know since YN was always hanging out at Harry’s house.

Harry wasn’t so convinced they should tell her, but Anne was always extremely welcoming and kind towards YN, so she felt as if she owed it to her to at least be honest with their feelings.

When Harry had asked her to keep their relationship private, YN didn’t really understand. She thought he could be somehow ashamed she was his girlfriend, but he promised that wasn’t the case. At first, it was easy to keep it private. YN was what you could call popular in school, whereas Harry was more kept to himself with a selective group of friends, so they rarely crossed paths at school.

They would usually meet in the janitor’s closet to share a kiss or two, but they both’d agreed to keep PDA to a minimum, and despite their shared decision to keep the relationship to themselves, she couldn’t help but wonder why. YN couldn’t possibly know her friends despised Harry and told him every chance they got.

Harry was smart, he did well in school and wasn’t afraid to show it, he was passionate and opinionated, and YN’s friends thought he was awkward for that. Harry never really understood how YN could hang out with them, but he’d started to notice they were never rude when she was around, so he guessed she didn’t know their very true nature.

When Harry got picked to be YN’s tutor, he had dreaded meeting with her in the library, convinced she was as rotten as her friends, but the very first time he saw her, out of breath because she was running late, hair messy and her cheeks rosy from the cold, muttering apologies over apologies for making him wait, he knew she wasn’t anything like he had imagined. She was soft, kind, and intelligent. And pretty damn cute, may he add (although that he knew already).

YN really didn’t know what she did. One minute they were fine, talking on the phone about how much fun their date at the fair had been, and the next Harry stopped answering her texts and all she was left with was wondering what happened.

“Oh! Hi dear” Anne smiled sweetly at her, “Harry still hasn’t come home”.

YN frowned at that, starting to think maybe he’d persuaded his mum to lie for him and asked her to find a way to get rid of her. She cringed at the mere thought. Was whatever she did that bad? And Anne was usually so nice to her! She couldn’t bear to think about that.

“I need to leave for work but… but you can wait for him in his room?” Anne questioned once she saw how upset the girl in front of her looked, “I’m sure he’ll be home any minute.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother” YN bit back an awkward smile, her mouth twisting at the corners. She was relieved Anne wasn’t in on Harry’s plan to avoid her. At least she had his mum on her side. Despite not knowing what she did, she hated when Harry was mad at her. Well, mad… he never really did get mad. He just got upset and avoided her until she had to reach out and confront him. She always thought that was why their relationship was so great, she compensated wherever Harry lacked.

Understanding Harry’s fear of confrontation, she was the one who opened up first about her feelings for him, all twitchy hands and anxious mind, scared he didn’t feel the same and she had completely misread the signs.

She hadn’t, because Harry had been crushing over her since the first moment he started tutoring her, and after he’d told her, YN made him repeat it ever chance she got (“tell me what you thought the first time we met!” “i though you were unhinged” Harry always said, but after kissing the pout on her lips away he’d add “and very cute”), never missing his reddened cheeks every time he told her that.

“You could never be a bother, love! Come inside,” Anne moved a little sideways so she could make room for her to come in, “you know the way”, she said, gesturing to the staircase on the right.

YN nodded and thanked Anne as she made her way inside, toeing her shoes off and placing them neatly at the front door.

“I would offer you tea but I’m in a hurry!” Anne said, and YN watched her grab her coat from the hanger near the front door along with her phone and what YN guessed were her car keys.

“Oh, no need, I understand” YN smiled politely and at that Anne nodded, giving her a warm smile and closing the distance between them to encapsulate YN in a hurried hug.

“Bye, love, I’ll be back tomorrow morning after my shift.” She winked and YN blushed at the thought of being alone with Harry for a whole night, muttering a soft bye under her breath when Anne made her way out of the door.

YN, now alone in the Styles’ household, looked around herself, walking further in. She spotted their cat sleeping on the couch and she said hello to him too, deciding against petting him, she knew damn well that cat hated being woken up and she understood him completely.

She decided to wait for Harry in his room as she originally intended to, so she made her way up the stairs, stopping every once in a while to smile at the family pictures framed on the hallway walls.

Once she reached Harry’s door, she opened it and closed it silently, despite being alone, behind her back, taking a big breath once she was inside, his woodsy scent mixed with the fabric softener of his sheets lingering in the air around her, comforting her.

“I’ll just wait here,” she whispered to herself as she sat down on the edge of his bed, crossing one leg over the other, her hands intertwined in her lap.

She waited anxiously for Harry to come home as the minutes began to pass, and with the minutes the hours, and with the passing of the hours, her eyes started to get heavy and her breathing slowed, the book she had found on Harry’s nightstand (after she got bored of her phone), managed to keep her occupied only so much, boring her to the point of sleepiness (Harry and his pretentious books), and she curled on top of his covers, hugging herself to protect her body from the cold of his room (which wasn’t that cold, the cold she was feeling mostly due to her anxiety), slipping into a dreamless sleep as she waited for Harry to return.

YN awoke suddenly at the sound of a door slamming, and it took her a while to get her surroundings in, confused as to where she was.

After realizing she was in Harry’s room on his bed, she also remembered why she was in his room, and that quiet, confused state she’d woken up in subdued, leaving room to the dread of a conversation whom she couldn’t wait to have (and whom she knew Harry would avoid whatever it took).

She got up from his bed and made her way towards the wooden door, twisting the knob and opening the door hurriedly, eager to see him. Her ears where graced with a loud yelp coming out of Harry’s mouth, who apparently had made his way up the stairs and was in front of the door too, not knowing YN was on the other side.

“Bloody hell!” He shouted, his eyes widened with fear as he brought his hand’s palm against his chest, heart level “you scared me” he breathed out after he’d calmed down, surprised.

“What are you doing here?” He added, looking at her with his deep green eyes.

YN, however, couldn’t get the words out of her mouth as she took in the look of Harry’s face, scratched and bloody.

“What happened?” She whispered, furrowing her eyebrows as she raised her hand to point at his face. His cheekbone had a deep cut on it, the skin under it purple colored and turgid. His nose was cleaned now but YN could make out the faint stain of blood that seemed to have dripped down onto his cupid bow, turning his lips a bright red color. She lowered her gaze to his blue hoodie, and she frowned because she knew it wasn’t the one he was wearing on their date that morning.

“It’s nothing.” Harry brushed it off, making his way inside his room and heading towards the bathroom.

“It’s not nothing, Harry!” She snapped, following him inside the bathroom, “did someone do this to you? Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“No” he chuckled a humorless laugh out of his nose, “I did this to myself.”

“Don’t go all smartass on me, Harry,” she said, lowering her tone, “what happened?”

She watched as he opened the shower’s faucet to warm the water. He then proceeded to remove his hoodie, tugging it off his head and tossing it in the laundry basket.

“I need to shower now, can you get out?” He spat out, turning his head to glance at her, his eyes, lowered in tiny slits, had turned a dark green and his mouth was closed in a firm line.

YN had never seen him like that. It was the first time he asked her to get out while he showered, he loved hearing her talk while he showered, often asking her to repeat what they previously studied to see if she was really paying attention.

She muttered out a soft ‘okay’ and nodded, lowering her eyes on the floor and making her way out of the bathroom. She’d seen him naked plenty of times by now, but she was extremely respectful of his boundaries and if he didn’t want her there while he showered, she wouldn’t force him.

As she waited for him on her bed, she tapped her phone behind her to look at the time; it was a little past seven thirty, and she wondered whether she should text her mum to let her know she would spend the night at Harry’s. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Harry wanted her to stay the night or if he expected her to be gone when he returned from his shower.

She decided to tell her mum to not wait for her, hoping to make up with Harry by the time it was time for bed.

She didn’t know what was wrong with him, and she was worried he’d gotten himself in trouble. Harry was smart, but school was getting hard, and she’d seen that episode of Pretty Little Liars in which Spencer got addicted to amphetamines to keep up with school, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was the case (maybe she needed to stop watching so much tv)

Maybe Harry needed some extra help to get through finals and things took a bad turn?

She possibly couldn’t know.

She jumped a little when she heard the bathroom door snap open, the sound interrupting her train of thoughts, and she raised her head to look at Harry, the vapor from the hot water carrying around the scent of his body wash, permeating the room.

He walked to his dresser only with a towel wrapped around his hips, and YN didn’t miss the big purple bruise on his left hip as he lowered to fish out a clean t-shirt and sweats out of the dresser.

“Can we talk?” She whispered, breaking the silence that lingered between them. She knew from the start the conversation wouldn’t have been an easy one, but she possibly couldn’t have known he would’ve turned up looking like that! All bruises and cuts!

Harry shrugged as he turned around, “nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing to… nothing to talk about!” She exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air in defeat.

“I just said that”

“Harry, you’re- you’re…” She chose to ignore his remark and sighed, “do you need to go to the hospital? Did you at least disinfect the wounds?”

“I’m fine, Niall helped me” he mumbled, tossing the towel to her, which she caught with two hands before it could land on her face.

“Harry!” She laughed, tossing it back at him. YN averted her gaze as he stood naked in front of her, not knowing if he wanted her to look.

He let the towel fall on the ground as he lowered the shirt he’d previously picked out on his head, then he slid on his grey sweats and let them hung low on his hips, not bothering to tie them.

“Are you hungry?” He said, closing the distance between them with two strides to get in front of her.

She nodded and rose her head to look up at him better, her lashes fluttered as she felt herself squirm under his dark gaze. Her heart clutched in her chest at the sight of his face. Did he really think she’d let it go that easily?

“C’mon, then,” he lowered his hand to take hers in his, giving it a squeeze between his fingers.

“Wait.” She breathed out, grabbing his wrist with her free hand. Harry furrowed his brows, scared that she might want to open the conversation once again, but YN throw him a sweet smile and his gaze softened, “what?”

“Can we kiss a bit? I missed you” she whined, tugging his wrist to signal him she wanted him to sit on the bed with her. Harry complied and plopped down on the bed next to her, circling her waist with his arm and bringing her down on top of him as he lowered himself down on the center of the bed.

YN placed her palms on his chest to balance herself, letting out a squeal when he pinched her bum jokingly.

Harry raised his head from the pillows to meet her lips, but when YN’s mouth got closer to his, he lowered once again, YN’s lips following his. She whined when he avoided her lips once again and took the matter in her own hands, pushing her lips against his mouth in a tender kiss.

She gave him small pecks at first, but after a while she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and Harry sighed in her mouth; this gave her access to push her tongue inside to brush against his, and she caressed his tongue with hers, intertwining it. His mouth was warm and wet, and he tasted like the mint gum he’s always chewing, but YN swore she could make out the faint ferrous taste of blood on his lips.

YN loves kissing Harry. And YN thinks she must be drunk because she feels like she loves Harry, and not just kissing him. And she knows she’s supposed to talk to him. She knows she shouldn’t let it slide, and believe her, her heart shatters at the thought of someone hurting him. But he said everything was okay, and he said he didn’t want to talk. And YN loves him. And sometimes when you love someone you’re not ready to face the things that are hurting them.

When Harry started to feel himself get dizzy from the lack of air, he pulled away from her lips with a pop, not missing the whine that she let out, and when he opened his eyes, he laughed at the pout on her plushy lips.

“So greedy!” He exclaimed, swiping a thumb delicately to smooth the frown on her lips, and he couldn’t help the smile that twitched his mouth when YN puckered her lips and placed a gentle kiss against his finger.

“Look! There’s Styles”

YN turned her head hastily when she heard her friend Mia mentioning her boyfriend. Mia nodded towards Harry once she gained the attention of the others.

She furrowed her brows as she watched Harry walk towards his table, holding a water bottle between his fingers. She wondered if he had already eaten or if he wasn’t hungry.

YN’s lips twitched as she bit back the smile that was spreading across her lips. She had to cross her legs under the table to keep herself from just standing up and walk towards him, this private relationship thing was starting to get to her, and she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend she wasn’t in love with him.

His face still hadn’t completely healed and she frowned at that, but the bruise on his cheekbone was starting to fade and she thanked god the frozen peas she had pushed against the bruise while they watched tv had worked, otherwise she never would have heard the end of it.

“You got him pretty good” Mia laughed, elbowing in the stomach Logan, who was sitting right next to her.

“We sure did!” He answered, rising his palm so Aiden, another one of her friends, who was sitting across from him and next to YN could high five him.

Everyone laughed at that, everyone but YN, who stared at Logan with furrowed brows. She felt as if she was being left out of a game she didn’t want to play.

“What are you talking about?” She said, interrupting the obnoxious laughter that had erupted at the table.

“You know Styles?” Aiden nodded his head in Harry’s direction and YN followed the nod with her eyes, muttering a ‘yes’ through gritted teeth when she laid her gaze on his table, “He pissed me off the other day in class, so really, he had it coming”.

“He… he pissed you off?” YN said, trying to control her tone to not attract too much attention on their table.

“Harry corrected him” Amelia, who had been silently studying for her upcoming test, clarified, which earned her a glare and a muttered ‘shut up’ from Logan.

Amelia just shrugged and said “it’s not his fault you didn't know who wrote the Odyssey”.

“So you picked a fight with him?” YN exclaimed, still amazed by that exchange. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her friends being the reason Harry was hurt. And to think she thought he was doing drugs! How could she be so silly!

“He barely fought back. He’s such a pussy” Logan chuckled, picking up his can of coke and chugging it down in one gulp.

YN’s face screwed up in a grimace at his words. She wanted to shout and toss the food in her plate at them, but even the school’s cafeteria’s food would be wasted on them.

“You were four against one” Mia rattled, shrugging her shoulders and chewing absentmindedly on her fork’s teeth.

“What’s with you two?” Aiden rolled his eyes, motioning towards Mia and Amelia.

YN felt frozen in place and she knew in her heart she wasn’t being fair to Harry. Her friends had said more to defend him than she did, what the hell was her problem? She truly couldn’t believe her own friends would do something like that. They were always nice to her, but, now she knows, that didn’t mean anything. She refused to believe her friends were the type of guys that were nice only to girls or girls they liked and not nice in general, but she was beginning to think that was exactly the case.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” YN whispered, shyly.

She wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation, but if it meant confrontation with Harry, because Harry never screamed at her and always took his time to hear her and understand her feelings, Aiden and Logan, she wasn’t so sure. Suddenly she was afraid of their reaction, and she took a big gulp, regretting her outburst.

“What was that?” Logan snapped his head towards her, and she knew once she took in the angered look on his face that he had heard her completely fine the first time.

YN throw a glance in Harry’s direction to make sure he was still there, and felt relieved once she spotted him talking animatedly with one of his friends, a blond guy she knew was called Niall. Of course, the cafeteria was swarming with students, but somehow she felt safe only with him around.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She repeated, with more confidence this time. She felt confident in her motives. She was defending her boyfriend, and despite their relationship being private, she could feel herself shiver at the thought of someone hurting Harry ever again.

“Watch your mouth, YN” Aiden chirped in, warning her.

“No!” She shouted, “If you think hurting people is okay, I’ll have to ask you again. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“YN, calm down” Mia whispered once she noticed a couple of heads snap in their direction, tugging on her arm to gain her attention, but her eyes were focused on the boy sitting next to her.

She was fuming.

“I’m not calming down,” she said, throwing a quick glance towards her friend. She averted her chair behind her and stood up, all attention shifted on their table with the screeching sound of the chair falling to the ground.

“Fucking assholes!” She exclaimed, “did he hurt your little fragile ego when he corrected you? He hurt you so much you had to hit him?”

YN could feel everyone’s eyes on her but she didn’t care. Everyone in their school deserved to know what kind of people they were. She truly couldn’t believe she even associated with them in the first place!

“You are calming down” Aiden rose to his feet and enclosed her wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly against the soft skin.

YN whined a little and tried to free her wrist from his grip, but he only squeezed harder, and YN could feel his tight hold interrupting the blood’s circulation to her hand.

“Stop, you’re hurting me!” She squealed, tugging at her wrist once again.

Harry, who had been eyeing their exchange attentively, stood up from his seat and stomped angrily towards them, his friend Zayn following close behind him.

“What the fuck is going on!” He shouted once he reached them, and at this point YN knew they were putting on a show for everyone to watch.

“Harry it’s okay, just go” she whispered, scared they would hurt him again like they had before. She knew Harry would’ve never left her in a situation where she could’ve been hurt, but she wanted to protect him too, the best she could.

“Let her go” Harry said through gritted teeth, pushing against Aiden’s chest to make him loosen his grip.

Harry was taller than him and towered over him, but Aiden was such an asshole he wasn’t scared to fight guys bigger than him (Of course, Harry would say, he did that with an advantage of four against one).

“Look at that! YN has a fling with the freak!” Aiden laughed, taking a step back and releasing YN’s wrist from his hold.

YN brought her other hand up to massage the reddened skin of her wrist, to soothe it a little, and both Harry and her got distracted as they inspected her damaged skin.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Aiden pushed YN toward Harry and she stumbled a bit, but he managed to catch her before she could fall face first on the ground.

YN grabbed the fabric of his shirt to balance herself, and Harry squeezed gently at her biceps to calm her. She looked frightened and angry still, but Harry knew she had nothing to do with this. It’s him they had a problem with, and he was determined to end this once and for all.

“Not only you don’t know basic greek mythology, you like hurting girls too, ah?” Harry pushed YN behind him and she walked backwards a little until she stumbled against a body behind her. She turned and saw Zayn standing right behind her, watching carefully Harry’s every move, ready to jump in if Aiden played unfairly.

YN never really talked to Harry’s friends, but she was glad he had good people around him that were willing to get hurt to defend him. Just like she would.

YN turned her head once again to watch Harry, but this time he had grabbed the neck of Aiden’s shirt between his fingers, raising his other hand to punch him right on the nose. Then, Harry freed his shirt from his grip and Aiden stumbled backwards, falling to the ground while he brought a hand to his bloody nose.

“Fuck” he muttered under his breath.

After that, things got bad. YN barely remembers Logan making his way past her and Zayn and kicking Harry in his leg, making him fall on his knees. At that, Zayn ran to help his friend, throwing Logan on the ground and punching him repeatedly on his face.

The crowd around them had deepened and YN could make out the words ‘fight’ as her school mates shouted them, inciting what YN considered a carnage. She hated violence, and she hated that it was her fault the fight had erupted in the first place.

She isn’t lying when she says she was glad to hear the school’s principal run in the cafeteria, shouting the guys’s last names and finally breaking the fight.

Yn hurried down the hallway when she heard the school’s bell ring, smiling and waving at some of the people that said hi to her along the way. She made her way towards Mr. Smith’s class, sighing a breath of relief when she reached it.

She opened the door and peeked her head inside, smiling once she saw a mop of brown curly hair.

She closed the door behind her once she entered, and Harry peeked his head sideways from under the desk, sitting cross legged on the floor, a metal bucket sitting next to him.

“Are you almost done?” YN said, walking towards him.

“Almost” he nodded, continuing scraping under the desk with the scoop the janitor had provided for him. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of gum I’ve scraped. I think I’m never chewing gum ever again!” He added, tossing the dried gum in the bucket. YN scrunched her nose at the sight.

“I still can’t believe he punished you too!” She exclaimed, lowering herself so she could sit on the floor next to him.

“Yeah… well- I did start the fight” Harry shrugged, smiling at her once she was in his line of sight.

“You were just defending me” she shook her head, closing her lips in a pout.

“I know, but still” Harry shrugged once again, leaning his face towards hers to press his lips briefly against hers in an affectionate peck.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were the ones who punched you?” She whispered against his lips, and at her words, Harry pulled back from her mouth and went back to his work quickly.

YN frowned at that, worried she might have interrupted a nice moment between them with her big mouth, but after what felt like hours but were only seconds in reality, Harry said: “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose between them and me.”

She felt her chest warm with his words. She was satisfied with his answer and decided to let it go, she knew Harry didn’t like confrontation and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She had gotten her answers that day in the cafeteria, and she had never — not once — looked back. She had Harry, and he was worth more than all her friends put together.

She watched him scrape gums for almost an hour, letting him chatter about this new dystopian book he had started to read and that he thought she’d like (she wouldn’t, but it’s the thought that counts, YN figures).

After he’s done, they stop before his locker to gather some textbooks he needed to study and to gather his things all together.

He’s handing the books to her as he fishes them out of his locker, asking her if she could hold them for him.

YN peeks at the last book on top of the pile she’s holding in her arms, and lets out a chuckle when she reads the title: Odyssey by Homer.

“Harry” she says, and he mumbles a ‘mh’ while he’s busy closing his locker with the combination of numbers.

“Tell me again what you said to Aiden”

“Babyyy” he whined dragging the end of the pet name, rolling his eyes lovingly at her, “you already know what I said!”

“No” she giggled childishly, “i don’t remember…”

“Fine” Harry sighed, turning around and grabbing the books from her hold, he gestured for her to start walking towards the entrance, so they could finally go home and relax after the long day they’d had.

“I said, not only you don’t know basic greek mythology, you like hurting girls too” he repeated his words, but his tone was much more flat now and less serious than it had been in the cafeteria.

She throw an arm around his neck to lower his face close to hers, and Harry widened his eyes and scrunched his nose at the sudden movement, puckering his lips anyway to meet hers in a brief kiss.

“You are so hot!”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles love on tour #harry styles #harry styles one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #nerd!harry

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aquanova99 · 10 months

Text

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 11

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A/N: I have been writing like a word a day I am struggling to find happiness and motivation in writing so I apologize for any delay. Hope everyone is doing okay out there!

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Y/n’s POV

The subtle shift immediately caused your eyes to spring open. You stayed frozen, hoping he you still needed to actually wake up. That this was all a dream of some kind and you hadn’t actually had the nerve to trap Cato by falling asleep on him.

Yeah, right. Life has never been that kind to you. You slowly unglue yourself from his shoulder and take even longer to face him. Before the apology leaves your lips, Cato interrupts.

“Did you sleep okay?”

The question takes you by surprise. The genuine concern in his voice makes it hard to discern whether or not he is upset at your clear disregard for boundaries. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think I was that tired. You were probably uncomfortable.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve slept that good since before the games.”

“Me either.” The realization finally hits you. This is the second time you’ve felt safe enough to let your guard down. You wondered if it was simply because your body knew there was someone else next to you. Part of you wondering, if it only applied to Cato. No. Things were complicated enough as it is. You look up again to find him intently staring and realize he seems to waiting for a reaction.

“I should go meet Katniss.”

You don’t wait for a response and dash up the stairs into your room. You begin regretting not taking one of the rooms on the first floor. You figured you’d be able to hear if anything stormed in. Give you more time to escape. Your brothers had tried to convince you everything was alright, to take the larger room. You almost had another episode when they decided to split the room. You shouldn’t have been such a coward. Now, you realized, you had to walk past almost every room. And that simply, was not an option. You’d probably woken everyone up. Your face felt warm at the thought of anyone seeing you and Cato in the living room. You threw the window open and hoped the cool air would help you figure out how to breathe again. You debated figuring out how to climb down to the first floor before deciding to get through this as quickly as you could.

You change as quickly as you can and do your best to pretend your heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. The usually long hallway seemed to stretch even farther than normal. You walked and pretended you didn’t notice Cato and Enobaria in the kitchen. Pretended you didn’t hear their voices go silent as your footsteps approached. Pretended you didn’t see Cato and Enobaria stare as you walked by. Pretended as if their gazes didn’t burn through your facade as you hurried to get out of the house.

You had slept enough to know Katniss would be in the woods by now. You tracked her easily enough, and was glad to see Madge there as well. You didn’t want to talk about Cato’s plan you had decided to follow through on. You had debated it since you saw her and Gale, but really the less people knew the better. Than again, you told her about your act for Peeta…No. Even if she figured out it was an act, and she likely would, it was better you kept her out of the loop in case Snow decided to press for answers. More believable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“Sorry? You haven’t slept in in more than a month at this point. I’d say she earned it, wouldn’t you Katniss?”

“She’s right.” Katniss grumbled, “How did you manage to finally sleep?”

Start planting the seeds, Y/n. “I decided to watch some cheesy capitol movies with…one of the victors. And I fell asleep on the couch.”

Katniss stared for a moment but shrugged. Neither of the girls pressed further. Thank God. You knew Katniss caught the pause in your response. She knew if you didn’t say anything it was because it was not meant to be shared with anyone else, even Gale. Damn. If you needed anyone to support your fake relationship it was Gale. He was popular enough at school people would agree with whatever he said, and you could only assume his character extended to the people he worked with in the mines. You knew this was easier said than done. Gale was no fan of showing any kind of performance for the Capitol, and he’d be less likely to support anything with a career. You had to convince Katniss what you were doing was real, or real enough so she could convince him to play nice for the cameras.

After collecting some strawberries with Madge while Katniss shot some wild turkeys it was time to head back. Checking any snares on the way back. A few rabbits to add to the pile. This would be a good haul for Katniss and Gale’s families. Madge split off first, paying Katniss for the strawberries, though she was met with some resistance.

“You picked those yourself Madge.”

“Its for being protection out there. I don’t plan on going out there by myself.” She pressed the money into her hands and walked off before Katniss could argue farther.

“She makes a good point.” You offer

“It feels like I haven’t earned it.”

“Believe me you earned it.” Katniss’s lips twitched ever so slightly, the closest you usually get to a smile. “Going to trade the turkeys?”

She nodded and the two of you headed towards the hob. Stopping to drop the two rabbits off at Hazels, and one at her own home. You let her do her usual trading done, while you eat buy you both some food from Greasy Sae.

“So where are you hiding your mentor?”

“You brought Cato here?”

You smile at the older woman, “I did, he said it was some of the best food he’s ever tasted. He’ll be so upset I didn’t bring him.”

You wink at Sae and she chuckles before going back to her business, Katniss is analyzing your words. Unsure of what to make of everything, you’re sure. She doesn’t ask any other questions and you start to worry about whether she would say anything else. You both eat in silence, only thanking Greasy Sae when you both finish.

“Are you going to see your mom today?”

“Sure.” Thank god, you think. Katniss waits for the two of you to be completely alone in front of your house before she speaks.

“Do I need to know something?”

“What? Why?”

“You brought a career into the hob? They aren’t welcome there.”

“It was just Cato. And they all seemed fine with him there. Relax.”

“Y/n. He’s still a career. People are going to talk.” That’s the point. They need to keep talking. Not only to sell the act you’re about to perform this next year but to start changing how they see the careers. Something besides from vicious killers and nothing more.

“Talk about what? Cato is a friend. I showed him somewhere he was curious about”

“Right. Which victor was with you when you decided to watch a movie?”

“What’s your point, Katniss?”

“You two are just…close.”

“Yeah we’re both responsible for 23 kids not being able to come back home.” You didn’t intend for the words to come out so harshly. You can tell Katniss recoils at the words, “Its not like hunting animals. Nothing like it at all. I still cant stop thinking about…everything. And its just easier to have someone who understands it. Have you and Gale ever talked about it?”

“…No.” And just like that, you know you’ve at least gotten your point across. “I never thought it would be the same.”

“I know. Gale did. And I get the thought process, but the aftermath… anyways. How is he doing with his new job?”

“Okay I guess. I don’t think it would be easy to go down there.”

“Yeah I couldn’t either.”

“Are you going to come hunting on Sunday?”

“Isn’t Sundays a you and Gale thing?”

Her cheeks go red. “It would be fine.”

It would clearly not be fine. “Just this one Sunday? And then I don’t have to again right?”

“It might have gotten better.” She offered

“I don’t want to find out.”

“Then it can just be this one Sunday.”

You smile at her as she stands to go back home. You hesitate to enter your old home but you need to find out exactly what Mallory and Amal talked to them about. You force yourself to take a deep breath and knock on the door. The door flies open, almost taking out your mother as it swings back.

“Finally. You need to tell us exactly what’s going on.”

You told them nothing. The visit started out fine enough. Your brothers had been relatively quiet. Saying the victors had been called to teach you how to do interviews for the victory tour, which was true, and so that you would know what to expect from the capitol, also true. But your brothers had left too much out, your mother knew there was more you were hiding from her. She had no idea about the sponsors. You felt yourself relax. You assured her that was all they were here for. Your father sat staring daggers at you, probably sure you were lying and not as willing as your mother had been to accept your reassurances. Then everything became blurry. Your mother went from curious to irritated at not being able to get it together before they came here. Not showing a good image of a proper victor. She started yelling about falling asleep next to Cato when he had been sick. Started wondering about how I was suddenly fixed. Then the yelling became a little more noticeable when she got in front of your glazed over eyes. You blinked and heard your father complaining about you were conveniently choosing to not be present in important family matters. You glanced at the old clock hanging on the wall, and decided it had been a long enough day and stood up to leave.

You could hear the sounds coming from their mouths, but the noises didn’t register as anything in your brain. You walked numbly back home. Still not quite able to hear anything as you walked back in your house. You half recognized someone calling your name from the kitchen. You kept walking to your room, you saw Cato’s head turn back to look at you as you passed the living room. You continued walking. You were barely at the top of the steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Mallory is trying to say something to you, you think. Your thoughts, while still foggy, begin to react to your senses. You look at your hand for too long. You know you’re blinking too slowly, but your body does not seem to be in your control. The words ‘I’m fine,’ sound foreign coming out of your mouth. The only thing that feels natural is pulling your hand away and entering your room.

You don’t make it to your bed. You collapse a few feet in. At least your body seemed to know to at least make it the soft rug. You allow your body to sink into the floor, slowly, so slowly turning to the side. You bring your knees into your chest, and look straight ahead. Trying to find anything to ground you.

You left the window open…You took deep breaths by the window earlier…Did that work? It feels like ages ago…You force yourself back onto your hands and knees. Then focus on being able to kneel. One leg at a time…Why was this so much work?

You make it to the window eventually. The air offers some relief. You cant keeping blacking out like this. What if you zone out during the victory tour? The thought turns your stomach into knots, but its enough to somewhat snap you out of whatever fog had enveloped you this morning. When you open the door you find Cato sitting on the ground, maybe keeping watch. Guilt runs over you for worrying everyone. For not being able to hide it. He offers a half smile and you feign one back, pointing your head towards the direction of the stairs, silently asking him to follow you. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and follow. The house feels empty… You open the door to your house and sit on the steps, you need to be outside. Realistically, you need to be out in the woods, but you cant…not yet.

“How bad was it?” You ask when he sits next to you

“Not great…” he admits, “Your brother looked pissed, he left right after you locked yourself in your room. Everyone else is with Haymitch.”

“They’re worried I’ll mess everything up during the tour.”

“Yeah.” You appreciated his honesty, it made it easier to not dance around the subject. He wouldn’t offer up most of his thoughts, but he didn’t hide them when asked. Made it easier to figure out how much you needed to work on.

“Do you think I can do this?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes. You were scared before your interviews when you started the games, right? When you’re going through it, it’ll be different.”

It has to be, you think. You know he’s right. You weren’t fighting right now. You were what? Surviving? No, more like running, or hiding. Avoiding the scary things. When you couldn’t run, couldn’t hide…would you be able to pull it off? You had to.

“What did I miss today?”

His face twists ever so slightly, “I don’t think today is a good day to talk about it.”

“I cant avoid this forever. I have less than five months.”

“Effie sent tapes, and…cards. They wanted to work on the speeches you’ll give on tour.” You stop breathing. Trying to find words to say. Trying to find any response other than the words that are threatening to come out once again, I cant. But you have to, another voice says. You force your lungs to take another breath, when you are back to as normal as you can get, he continues, “Theres a generic speech Effie has prepared for most of the tributes. But for…some of them you may want to make a separate speech.”

He means Rue and Thresh… and Peeta. You think about some of the other tributes, then realize the rest of Panem only saw you responsible for their deaths. Not the training center, or discussing possible alliances. That was your weight to carry, no one else’s.

“Y/n?”

“Lets go see Haymitch. I have some memorizing to do.” You can tell he wants to protest, maybe suggest waiting one more day. Still, he ends up nodding and when he stands offers to help you up. You take his hand for the split second it takes to stand up, and try not to think about how you wished he would hold it the entirety of the short walk over.

The house is silent when you walk in. You’re still surprised how thoroughly Brutus has gone through this place. They all tentatively meet you at the entryway. Haymitch looks you over for a couple seconds before putting his arm on your shoulder and nods his head, you nod your head a few times to tell him you’re fine. He pats your shoulder and you follow him into his own living area.

“So, I hear you guys have the speech I need to memorize.” You say when you sit down

“We can start tomorrow.” Enobaria says

“No. Time is running out, and we still have to worry about making the people here believe there is something happening between me and Cato. I don’t have anytime to waste. I need to be able to at least do this speech in my sleep.”

Haymitch again stares for a little and then hands you the cards. Overall, it shouldn’t be too difficult. But you know you’re going to have something prepared for District 11 and 12. That could wait. Effie spared no expense of praise for the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever…ugh. Well, at least this would help convince Snow you wanted to play along with whatever he wanted you to do. To a point, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll go memorize this now. Anything else?”

“We need to get you two out more. Start building up the romance. So maybe we can go out as a group. A tour, maybe somewhere with music…start there.” Cashmere states

Music? In 12? It would have to be in the square, there’s simply not enough time to dance around like the Capitol parties. But maybe in the better part of 12, they sometimes had people bring out flutes, fiddles, stuff like that. No those are for holidays, and we wouldnt have another one of those for a few months. Then there was the hob. But techincally those get togethers are very much against the rules, not like most peacekeepers care too much around here. But that many victors could draw unwanted attention. You would have to find the right time, figure out how to ask without raising suspicion. If you or Haymitch asked, your ruse would go up in flames immediately. You think of Madge, she could know, but again, you cant ask her. Katniss though…she could figure out how to ask the question. Our brothers were out of the question, Amal was the worst liar, and Mallory was terrible at keeping anything from him. Though, like Katniss, he would probably figure it out too.

“Got it,” you say, “I’ll figure out how to get us out in the public eye here. I’ll be back soon.”

“And just where the hell are you going?”

“Brutus, relax.” Enobaria tries

“We’ve already wasted a whole day. This is going to end badly for all of us.”

“I need to figure out how to set up times for us to get seen together, and I cant just go out and ask. It would be obvious. I need to figure out who to ask and how to do it without anyone knowing about our plans. My family cant know anymore. Mallory will figure it out on his own. Later. He needs to believe this as much as Snow does. I’ll be back.”

Whatever courage you had diminished the second you exited the house. The sun was beginning to set, and you needed to get your plan in motion. You walked as fast as you could without attracting any attention. Knocking entirely too loudly.

Katniss opened the door and immediately sits in front of the door closing it as quietly as she can to avoid her family listening in. You both whisper as quietly as you can regardless.

“You know if Peeta had made it out, I wouldn’t have to worry about visiting any sponsors.” Katniss squints her eyes analyzing every word, “I mean I could have played along with the whole romance act. The capitol would never split up a couple by asking favors of them.”

“Interesting.” She nods, fully taking in what you’re telling her.

“Anyway, I really want to take the victors to hear some music. I just don’t know who to ask…”

“Madge maybe. Or she would know how to find out.”

“Yeah. I don’t know her like that though.” She takes a deep breath. Hating what I was asking of her.

“Okay. Hey, I think I am going to her house tomorrow to try and learn piano. You’re probably busy, right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear her play again too.” Katniss chuckles at your sarcasm

“I have to make sure Prim eats. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Sounds good.” You squeeze her hand in a thank you and she nods before heading back inside. Your stomach growls at the reminder that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You trudge back, still ashamed of your inability to handle the tiniest stressors. Your parents yelling wasn’t new, but you had never been unable to defend yourself. It was as if being in the games had made everything feel so much worse, more…intense. Made you weak. And you no longer had the energy to deal with it. Brutus was right. It wasn’t just my life anymore. Cato, Haymitch, and the others…they could all suffer because of me.

At some point your brothers ran up behind you. You must nave been moving slower than you thought.

“Did you eat yet?” You ask them

“No. You?’ Mallory replies

“Nope. Anything you guys in the mood for?”

“Anything works.” Mallory replies, Amal is quiet and you can only imagine the conversations they inserted themselves into at home. “We can make something this time.”

“I don’t mind—” you start

“I want to make something.” Amal interrupts.

“Okay.” After a few moments of silence you start again, “I’m sorry if I freaked you guys out. “

“Its fine, It wasn’t as bad this time.” Amal says, Mallory nudges him probably trying to not worry you again. It goes over his head, “What?”

You chuckle, you wish the older of the two would be as honest as Amal. It helped you remember to not take things so seriously, “Good. I’ll try and get the time down to a few minutes.”

They both smile and they begin to talk about how much they have learned from the other victors. You are glad they are enjoying the company until Mallory mentions wanting to ask Brutus about tips. Just in case he gets reaped he says. You know its likely they get called, its happened before, family members from victors who had become capitol favorites. With all the commotion you caused. You realize its likely your brothers had a high chance of going in. The upcoming quell… your brother wasn’t an idiot. Its been theorized the Capitol has rigged certain reapings, Haymitch has no one left, but you? It may not be the worst idea. And you certainly couldn’t help him. You would worry too much, in fact the conversation turns your stomach to lead. Suddenly, food held no interest to you. Still, you have to be rational. Cato’s advice saved your life, if Mallory is put in this position… Brutus might save his.

“I think Brutus might appreciate the distraction, if he won’t Cashmere will.” You keep your voice even, but your heart feels like its shattering at the thought of having to become a mentor. Playing along with the sponsors may not be such a bad idea. If it keeps Mallory out of the games. That’s what they said Finnick does, right? You would have to talk to Cato again. You knew if you told either sibling they would tell you to not go back on the original plan. Which is probably why he’s is preparing to go in. So many people willing to put themselves in harms way when you could just play along. You’re from 12, after all maybe in a few years time they would all but forget you.

When you enter your home you’re almost overwhelmed by the smells coming from the kitchen. Amal and Mallory run in ready to help. Enobaria greets them, and they continue talking. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other. You smile to greet Enobaria and Cashmere, but when you meet Cato’s eyes you know he can tell somethings up. He points his head toward the living room and you nod and sneak away. He meets you on the couch, bringing some water and a plate of fruit.

“What happened?” He asks immediately. He sits next to you, which was better because you didn’t want anyone to hear.

“Mallory. I’m so stupid, Cato. If we do this…he’s going to get reaped. I know it. I was right before, I volunteered for nothing. If I had just eaten the stupid berries before Peeta could say anything. They’d be safe. I’ve ruined everything… I—”

Cato brings you into him and you decide you don’t care if its for pity or what. You allow him to comfort you. No tears come just a general sense of hopelessness.

“We’ll figure it out,” he breaks okay and fand positions himself to look at you, “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

You nod. He tries to hand you the glass of water but your hands are shaking. He holds one hand to help you drink and when you finish puts the plate on your lap. You notice he gives you some space, and you find yourself hating it. You manage to force a few pieces of fruit down when the rest of the house comes in.

“There you two are!” Cashmere floats down and hands you another plate, you smile and try and eat as much as you can stomach. Enobaria asks about the upcoming school year, who the younger ones talk to, their favorite things to do. They both answer, and ask their own questions in return. I’m grateful for the distraction and by the end of the night you find yourself smiling, you find out Amal has been picking things up from Prim. Wants to figure out how to be a doctor, Mallory isn’t exactly sure as he thinks he will just work in the mine. Cashmere pushes and he tells them about drawing when he is bored but nothing else really coming to mind. Both of the female victors encourage them, saying that with your help anything is possible now. You encourage them too after a while, you've realized most people accept what they were born into in 12. The bright side of being a victor is you could give them a chance. A real chance. If you don’t get them killed first.

Cato helps Cashmere collect everything. You know he is likely telling her exactly what is concerning you. You hate going back and forth on this. Making things even harder. Everyone eventually disperses, you try to relax with a bath but you decide its not working and just clean up quickly. After pacing around for a bit you decide to go back down. You sit on the living room and turn on the tv, hoping something will put you to sleep.

Why isn’t it working? You’re staring at the screen for over an hour when you hear footsteps coming down. You don’t move, you know who is coming to join you.

“Cant sleep?”

“Nope.” You smile up at him, “Care to join me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I enjoy the company.” You wonder if you’ve been so closed off for him to still think you dislike him. Maybe he actually wants you to leave. He always seems surprised when you seem to want his company at all. Then again, you’ve been going back and forth on the plan you agreed with since the beginning, why wouldn’t he think you don’t want him around.

“What are you watching?” He asks as he sits on the seat adjacent to yours, you try not to let your face show your disappointment

“A movie from the capitol, the acting is pretty bad so its no wonder they believe whatever the tributes sell to them. Its almost done I think, do you want to pick something?” He shakes his head and you flip through until you find another movie you don’t care to watch. You tell yourself its background noise, and after a while your eye lids get heavy.

Images of the cornucopia appear, drops of water dripping onto the makeshift cave you hid in with Peeta, the snares you’d so carefully hidden in the underbrush, the buzz of the tracker jacker nests, Glimmer’s…screams…? Suddenly you’re running, you think you hear her scream for help when the swarm of tracker jackers descend upon you. You’re on the floor and Glimmer’s disfigured body is facing you, her eyes glazed over yet full of hate and blame. Her lips release a raspy voice not belonging to anyone in particular, no it wasn’t her voice… it was multiple voices. They all hiss together in a bone chilling, raspy harmony…

You…

Did…

This…

To ussss…

Your body shoots up and you’re unsure if that last scream was another part of your dream or your own voice. You violently pat your body to check for the stings of the of tracker jackers. Only when you’re sure nothing has happened do you allow yourself to check your surroundings of the room. There is still a dull murmur coming from the tv and you curse yourself for thinking it would be an easy solution to aide in your sleep. Whatever happened last night…it didn’t matter. It was a mistake. The clock is ticking…only a little past one in the morning. You look over at Cato’s chair, he isn’t faring much better. He had tried to get comfortable but his position was anything but. He is mumbling something under his breath, his eyes are squeezed tight and his hands appear to be clutching the hair by his ears, effectively covering them. If it didn’t look like he was about to crush his own skull you might have left him alone. That would be what he would tell you to do, to leave him. Well. You’ve never been the best at following directions.

You put your hand on his. The one closest to you. His body freezes, you wait a few seconds to allow him to figure out where he is and, as delicately as you can, you pull one of his hands away from his. You focus on his breathing, short and shallow. You pat the hand you’re holding when you bring a good enough distance away from his face and go into the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When you come back he still seems somewhat disoriented, aside from his hands he hasn’t moved. You push the water into his hand until he takes it. He blinks slowly, and takes a few sips. You carefully take the cup back and place it on the table, not moving from your spot on the ground.

“Did I wake you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and you quickly shake your head

“I woke up from a dream of my own actually.” He nods and slumps to the floor next to you, you notice he begins fidgeting with the small beaded bracelet you had gotten him, and wonder if whatever he was dreaming about continues to haunt him. You can only hope he says anything to drown out that disturbing cadence of whispers echoing in your mind.

“Do you want me to keep watch again? I don’t think I want to sleep right now.” He asks quietly

And I do? The thought makes you smile but you just shake your head at his proposal, “I don’t think I can either. How bad is our schedule tomorrow?”

“They probably have more debriefing, the interview tapes have come in.”

“Great.” You scoff, “I guess we have no choice but to try and sleep again.”

Glimmers disfigured face pops back into your head and you shudder, not in any way excited to see who you’ll see when you close your eyes. Cato stands and turns the tv back on. He offers a sad smile and holds his hand out. You take it knowing full well what his plan is. The tv goes back on and you sit next to each other this time, both trying to focus to blur any remaining memories of your nightmares. The next time you succumb to your fatigue the nightmares stay away. And just like that you both silently agree to continue the process. Both finding excuses from then on to come downstairs and turn the stupid tv on. One of you always waking up before the other and sneaking back into your room to get ready before the rest of the house woke up. By Sunday, you felt rested but your neck really hurt. Katniss’s knock woke you up that day.

“Just wondering if you were still coming.” Gale stood a good distance behind her but nodded in your direction which you returned.

“I have to get ready but yeah one second.” When you close the door Cato is already awake, leaning against the wall.

“You think you’re ready?” It was an innocent question that you only wish you knew the answer to. You had met up with Katniss a few more times this week, but today felt ominous. You suddenly felt like everyone else who avoided the woods. Terrified, like you would have to keep watch for the safety of the fence line.

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you sure?” He gave a singular nod and told you he was going to go get ready. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before rushing to do the same. You debated starting the whole romance thing now but you decide its better to not overfill your plate. You are a bit surprised Gale and Katniss say nothing when Cato comes out with you. You wonder if Katniss has caught on and whether she’s said anything to her favorite hunting partner.

The walk to the meadow is mostly silent until you offer food for everyone to eat before heading in. But that’s silent too. Everyone’s guards are up. Everyone worried about mine and Cato’s reactions. Including myself and Cato.

Gale seems to liven up in the forest, his footstep soundlessly picking up the pace. You all follow closely behind.

“Alright Y/n, easy pickings.” He points towards some wild turkey.

“I don’t know…”

“You’ve got this.” He hands you one of the bow and arrows made by Katniss’s father. You look to her for permission before even placing your hand on it. But the second you touch the weapon your hands start shaking.

“Y/n, if you’re not ready…” Cato starts but Gale interrupts suddenly agitated

“She’ll be fine. The woods are all she knows, right? She cant be scared of the one good thing about this place.” Cato doesn’t respond, you squeeze his arm and he nods. You barely have the strength to draw the arrow back and your muscles are screaming. You’re weaker than you anticipated. You take a deep breath and aim in the general direction of the bird, but the second you release the arrow the only thing you see is Marvel.

The Marvel you see staggers back, blood pouring from his mouth. You hear yourself scream and step back almost falling into a tree. Cato’s hands grab each of your arms, “NO! Please…”

“Its not real. You’re not in the games. You’re safe…” He says in your ear but his voice is shaky. You have to blink a few times before you nod. You hand the bow back to Gale.

“I’m sorry.”

“Its fine. You can try again, it will get better.” He holds out the bow but you step back

“Gale..” Katniss warns him, Cato pushes me behind him as he turns to look at her

“She just needs to get used to it.”

“She said no.” Cato says firmly

“You don’t get it. She belongs out here. You don’t. She needs to be able to come out here, even if she doesn’t hunt anymore. The games aren’t going to ruin that for her.”

They’ve already ruined it, you think. “Its going to take time. She has to see everyone again in a few months. She can decide when she’s ready.”

Gale steps forward, “Y/n, come on. We’re going to keep moving.”

“Back. off.” Cato growls but Gale keeps moving forward and you react before he figures out whats happening. Gale had pointed the bow in Cato’s direction, and its like something takes over him immediately. His entire body shifts into a position you remember in the training center. From Arioch…

“Or what?” He starts

His name comes out as a warning, to no one but yourself, “Cato…”

Time seems to slow down, this time, its you who has to let Cato know hes safe. You rush to get in front of him, grabbing for his hand reaching for the knife hidden away. A stupid decision on your part because you come from the bottom up so you feel the sting before fully realizing the blood dripping down your arm as fail to stop his arm from pulling it out from across his body. This is what he knows. You stare him down with one hand useless, and the other on his arm with the knife. You think you hear one of them pull the arrow back. Idiots. This can only make things worse. His other hand grabs the one holding onto his arm, preventing him from either throwing or hunting them down. The other arm has seeped through your shirt and is bleeding onto the ground ever so slowly, like the ticking of a clock.

Drip

“Put the weapons down!” You yell at everyone. Scaring off any prey they were hoping of catching. Cato looks furious but he blinks at you as if he is trying to figure out what part of his games you’re form.

Drip. Drip.

“Katniss, Gale. Go.”

“Y/n…”

“But—”

“Now!” You can hear the footstep receding. You’re sure they wont be going far so you have to make this quick. His grip on your arm tightens and you struggle not to cry out. But you had to make sure he thinks of little of his games as possible. Right?

Drip…

“You said we were allies. We aren’t done here.” More blinking. When this is over you’ll have to remember to thank him for giving you the answer to this very problem. You avoid saying anything about the actual games. “We’re safe. You’re safe.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to slow his fast and heavy breathing. The hand with the knife going up his head, pressing against it. He forcefully lets go, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you fall onto the ground. Both arms have gone up to his head, trying to silence voices you will never hear. You stay on the ground so as to not disturb him, hoping he comes back to you on his own. Whatever he tries to block out elicits a small groan of his own as he falls on his knees. His hands never leaving the sides of his head as he continues to try and quiet the nightmares I forced him to see by coming out here. You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, and his body stiffens. His head slowly looks up at yours.

“You’re okay.” You whisper, as if speaking loudly would ruin any progress, “Everything's okay.”

His head scans the area and when he looks back you his eyes widen again, his breathing quickening. “Oh my god.”

You don’t have to follow his eyes to know what hes looking at, “I’m fine. It was my fault.”

His hands turn your forearm to face him, really the scratch wasn’t very deep. Long maybe, but really it would heal quickly. The bleeding had mostly stopped anyway. He lifts the t-shirt sleeve up to where your cut is completely exposed. Cinna probably had some kind of scar cream, you weren’t worried about it. Cato shakily grabs the bag you had set down when you had tried to shoot the arrow, fumbling until he finds what hes looking for. A small red box. You realize it’s a first aid kit, he grabs the water bottle you’d brought as well and begins pouring water on your wound. Your arm twitches when the water first contacts you and Cato winces.

“Sorry.” He mumbles not making eye contact

“Its fine Cato, really.”

“Its not.” He says sternly. He places a type of pad on your arm and begins bandaging. You only try to speak when he’s almost finished

“Cato. This wasn’t your fault. I grabbed the knife wrong. This is on me.”

“Y/n. Stop.”

“No. You cant even look at me. This is not your faul—”

“I shouldn’t have come out here. I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“I wasn—”

“You were right. This is a mistake.” He begins to stand up again

“Cato, wait—” You scramble to catch up to him, but before your arm even reaches out he snaps at you

“No Y/n. This should have never happened. I could have killed you! We will stick to public appearances, the rest of the time you need to stay away from me.”

For some reason this infuriates you. “What are you talking about? No. You said we would do this together. You cant back out now.”

He turns around just as furious, “You’ve been backing out almost every day! Why does it matter if I do it??”

A valid point. You weren’t sure why you were fighting so hard for him to not back out but it suddenly sounded unacceptable. Especially not out of guilt, “Beca—”

“I told you I was dangerous! I told you to use the sedative if you needed to. How could you not bring it??? Do you not understand how easily I could have killed you? Do you know what that would have don—Do you think I could live with myself?” He takes a deep breath, trying to lower his voice. It was the loudest you had ever heard him, certainly. Guilt gnawing at you for not realizing how all of this could have undone any progress, how he could have been punished.. all because you couldn’t shoot a damn arrow. Anger also fights for the dominant spot in your mind, you were the one who just de-escalated everything. Your silence seems to soften him and you know it's only because he's once again, sure he's terrified you.

“Look. Just—Make sure you start bringing the sedative. I’m serious. For your own sake—”

He lets out an exasperated sigh of disbelief as you hold your palm out. The sedative pen still capped facing him.

Cato’s POV

She had it this entire time? Why didn’t she use it? Did she forget? How could she forget? You stood there staring as she held her hand out. Unsure of what to do , what to say. You had just screamed at the person who stopped you from hurting anyone. Who had hurt herself in order to give you the chance to stop. Who had somehow managed to distract you enough to realize you were slipping back into your games. You couldn’t face her as you bandaged her arm, and now you felt like you couldn’t stop staring, trying to figure out why she wouldn’t immediately use that on you.

It was her turn to be angry, but instead of saying anything she grabbed your hand and forced the pen into it before heading back home.

You could only stand there for a minute before you chased after her. You caught up relatively soon, “Y/n?”

When she says nothing. You decide to keep your mouth shut. The walk back is tense she lets the door almost close on you and you aren’t surprised to hear the door slam. You’re thankful no one seems to be home. You know her brothers are at her parents, and Enobaria and Cashmere said they wanted to talk to Haymitch about the public appearances they want to start up. You decide to go over there just to let them know you’re both back.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Could’ve gone better.” Is all you say as you walk back out. The rest of your day is you hiding in your room. You go out to make yourself a quick lunch. You’re pretty sure Y/n hasn’t come down so you leave a plate of food at her door and knock before running back down to your room. You pace, read, lay down, repeat. You only come out when Enobaria calls you down to eat again. You ask if Y/n has said anything to her but Enobaria says she was worn out from trying all of that today. You wonder if the cut on her arm came up.

“Cato. Is everything okay?” She crosses her arms as she watches you eat. You take one more bite and toss your fork down. You needed today to be over. You can overthink by yourself.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You grab your plate and toss everything in the trash. Something people here probably wouldn’t be very fond of but its beyond you to care right now. You can feel Enobaria looking at you but she doesn’t follow. You go into your room and turn the lights off so hopefully, everyone assumes you’re asleep and leaves you alone. You cant sleep. In fact, you know you wont be able to sleep since the only decent sleep you’ve gotten in over a year has been with y/n when you pretend to watch the tv. Really, its probably your brain telling you that you two are watching each other’s backs, but it doesn’t matter. You doubt you could trust anyone else like that.

You replay today’s events for the millionth time. She must have been terrified. And then on top of everything you go and yell at her. She could have yelled back but the only time she even sounded slightly annoyed was when you said doing the whole romance thing may not be a good idea. Isn’t that what she wanted? Was it the way I said it? You hold the pillow over your head for a few minutes before throwing it to the floor out in annoyance. Just fall asleep. Fall asleep. You tell yourself you deserve any nightmares that come to you but sleep refuses to make an appearance. Probably because you were ridden with guilt and disgust. You decided to go apologize. You went down the hall where Y/n’s room was hidden away, you hear Cashmere and Enobaria talking in the distant kitchen. As you raise your arm to knock, the door swings open.

The two of you are stand once again, motionless. With nothing in her hands, you wonder if she had an idea similar to yours. You open your mouth to start apologizing but she shakes her head and steps out of your way. Allowing for you to enter her room. You tell yourself you’ll apologize properly and then leave her alone. She probably just wants to keep todays events hidden, better to curb any more fears about this plan’s already fragile state. When she quietly closes the door behind you try to speak before she once again cuts off your apology by wrapping her arms around you. You freeze, waiting for your living nightmares to resurface but when they don’t come, you return the embrace. A warmth radiating deep in the cold recesses of your heart.

“I’m sorry.” She says softly

You immediately step back, “No. That’s what I should be saying. I was the one who wanted to go, I was the one who hurt you, I was the one that yelled. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I knew I wasn’t ready.” You bring her towards you again and try not to notice the smell of her hair, still somewhat damp from a fresh bath.

“Can I check?” She sighs but holds her arm out. You feel relief upon realizing how shallow the cut was. You quickly leave her room for more supplies and sneak back as quietly as possible. You both sit on her bed and you begin. You work carefully. Quietly. She says nothing until you put the healing ointment over the scratch.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.” She tries to joke but you’re struggling to understand why had to put herself in this position in the first place.

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Y/n…”

“You know when I blew up all of the supplies in the cornucopia and everyone ran back…Arioch was so mad he snapped the boy from three’s neck. It was less than a second and Elias was dead. On the ground. You could have done the same the second I grabbed the knife. You stopped yourself. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“I could have still killed you, before all of that.”

“I guess.”

“You cant guess Y/n.”

“Honestly if you really thought you were in the games and you thought the three of us were working together you would have either gone for the person most dangerous to you, which wasn’t me and would have given me time to use it. Or you would have used me as a bargaining tool, and I still would have been able to use it. So, drop it.” Her voice gets short and you decide to listen, trying to not get into your head again. She sighs and lowers her tone, still grumbling at the thought of it.

“I shouldn’t have hid behind you and I should have told Gale off myself. I would have had a better chance at either grabbing the knife or deescalating the situation.”

You cant help yourself. The thought of her putting the blame on herself is ludicrous and you cant accept it, “I shouldn’t have gone at all.”

“I wanted you to come. I would have asked you to anyway.” She says it so softly you aren’t sure you heard her right. You don’t say anything more as you finish rebandaging her. “I’m tired.”

You tell yourself you promised you would leave her alone so you just nod and say “Okay.”

You shift to stand up and leave but she grabs your wrist, “Can you stay?”

“Okay.” You find yourself unable to say anything else at the moment. You down move from your seat on her bed as she lays down. Your throat suddenly feels very dry. You feel as if you’re breaking some kind of rule from the agreement you both had made, which is ridiculous since you had been accidentally sleeping together when you would watch tv. It was just easier to fall asleep that way. You try going over possible interview questions in your head but absentmindedly fidget with the bracelet which gets her attention. She leans over enough to place her hand on your back causing you to jump.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you plan on keeping your knife under the pillows?” You shake your head and she smiles, “Then yeah, as long as your comfortable with it.”

She scoots over and you lay next to her. Neither of you fall asleep right away and you try and see if she wants to talk about what happened before she stepped in front of you. “Can I ask you something?”

She turns to her side to face you, you try and resist the urge to get closer and just turn your head to her direction staying on your back. “What is it?”

“What did you see?”

She goes unnaturally still, you want to tell her to forget about it but she decides to answer, “Marvel.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She turns onto her back and looks up as she recounts her time in the games, “You saw the games. I missed.”

“I thought you hit him.”

“I did. But I waited too long and I ended hitting a lung…I was so mad. I was going to watch him suffer for the net. For throwing his spear. He told me to finish. To kill him. When I pulled the knife out I held onto his hand as I plunged my knife into him. I felt his hand go limp in mine. I see his death all the time. Then I run away. In every dream I run, and it doesn’t matter what direction I run I always end up seeing Rue. Struggling to breathe. I didn’t even know she was hit right away.”

“Y/n you couldn’t have saved her.”

“If I hadn’t hesitated I would have. She would have won. I would have made sure of it.” You don’t like what she’s implying but you say nothing, knowing theres more to be said, “Almost everyone else’s death I see like I was watching the games from home. But Marvel and Rue…and Glimmer sometimes. They don’t ever go away. It also sucks because I saw Thresh die the same way everyone else did and I feel bad he doesn't bother me as much.”

She doesn’t turn to face you but you can see tears beginning to form so you reach out and grab her hand. She returns the gesture, intertwining her hand in yours. She finally turns to look at you, but she is too tired to even try and pretend its okay. It isn’t. And it doesn’t get better. But its only fair you tell her your side of things too.

“I see everyone. Whether I killed them or not. I see myself killing them, not being able to stop. Then I hear them. Their families. Calling me a monster. I try to say I cant stop but I can never speak.”

She squeezes your hand. You have others, sometimes its all of the training methods you had in 2. Others are when you are begging to call your family so you can go home, then the voices from the games merge into those too. You turn to face her and she lets go of your hand to turn. She begins to get close. Too close. Shes above you, resting on her elbow you feel her other hand reach up. A finger traces your brow, her thumb gently wiping a tear you weren’t aware had spilled.

“You aren’t a monster. Okay?”

You cant help yourself. You don’t let her let go of your face. You don’t want to let her go at all. So you don’t. With your free arm you bring her as close as you can and hold her. Tired of pretending you weren’t constantly craving her presence. Her touch. You only let go of her hand to put your own in her hair as you pulled her into you. She doesn’t protest. She continues to lean in eventually letting her lips rest on yours ever so gently. Her lips were soft and warm. You could feel them slightly part as she let out a slight gasp. It was as easy as breathing. When you both pull away, you feel like its too soon. You know that you are only entangling yourself into a potentially dangerous situation with the capitol. You had something to lose now. As she stared at you with the same realization you realized you didn’t care. You had something to lose, yes, but you also finally had something to lose. You didn’t want her to worry, you just brought her into you again. Letting her head rest on your chest. Knowing sleep would come easily. You run your hand up and her back and you feel her thumb going back and forth on your chest. Her hand stops moving first, you aren’t sure when your eyes close. All you know is for the first time you feel at peace, nothing gnawing at the back of your mind. No dreading about waking up and doing it all over again.

When you do wake up its anything but peaceful. You both hear the urgent knocking and sit up immediately. You both share a look and you move to the other end of the bed. Pretending you were simply keeping watch.

“Come in.” Y/n says groggily

“What is he doing here? What are you doing here?? What happened to your arm?” Enobaria sounded confused. Furious.

“I still couldn’t sleep. So, I asked him to keep watch and alternate with me. But I fell asleep on my turn.” Y/n, you’ve noticed is only exceptional at lying when it involves someone else. “Sorry. I thought I was getting better?”

“And your arm?” Unfortunately for the two of you, Enobaria was not in way easy to convince. She crossed her arms as asked about Y/n’s injury.

“I got it when we went hunting yesterday. I freaked out and I was fumbling to grab my knife to protect myself. Cato bandaged me up and came to make sure it was healing okay last night. I asked him to stay. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I said I was tired and hid in here all day.”

“And why didn’t you mention this accident?” She starts asking you

You shrugged and tried to seem indifferent, “She asked me not to.”

“Y/n you need to at least get one more person to change shifts, its—” you see that shes struggling to find the words, but theres no real way around it, “its not safe. The flashbacks they don’t always show up in the most convenient times.”

Your head drops, and you can feel Y/n stare. You want to disagree with her but Enobaria is right. One nightmare and you could wake up in a place where Y/n isn’t Y/n at all. Just another person you cant unsee in the games.

“I trust him.”

She says it so easily, you want to believe her. Believe that you would never do anything to her. But you already had. “Y/n its better to be safe than sorry.”

“I trust him. Which is a good thing because at the end of this whole thing we’re going to have to end up together right? So does it matter if we help eachother out?”

Enobaria sighed, “Come on, we have a busy day.”

She leaves the room quickly. No doubt going to talk to Cashmere. You lift your head to look at Y/n, “Don’t.” She says

“Y/n. Shes not wron—”

“I said don’t.”

“I need a favor.”

“Cato…”

You take out the syringe and hold it out. “Please. Just to be safe. For me.”

The last line makes her flinch. She lets out an exasperated sigh and snatches the pen out of your hand. “I’m not going to use it.”

She leaves her room before you have a chance to respond. The words, ‘I know,’ stuck on your lips. You follow behind her and meet up in the kitchen with Enobaria and Cashmere. Enobaria still looks upset but Cashmere has a knowing grin on her face you desperately want to ignore. She slides you and Y/n a plate of food.

“Well before we do anything today, Y/n I suggest you go see your cousin. She came by to check on you already. I’m assuming since yesterday didn’t go so great?” Enobaria states

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Cato? You’re practicing interview questions with Brutus.”

“Why him?” You immediately protest

“Because he is going to pinpoint everything you need to work on and this needs to go perfectly.” There was no point in arguing with either of them. Especially when Enobaria was already on the verge on sending you over to Haymitch’s house.

“What about you guys?”

“Oh Haymitch is going to show us around a bit more.” Cashmere says, you and Y/n share a look. They’re planning something and you two are not to know about it. You both eat in silence until Y/n finishes and is promptly shooed out of the house. You mainly push the food around your plate. Avoiding the stares that felt like were burning holes into your body.

“Its good you two are comfortable with each other. It’s going to make things easier.” Cashmere starts

“Its also going to make things more difficult.” Enobaria grumbled, “This whole charade still might not work. You need to be careful. You both just got out of the games. You still technically need to be supervised.”

“The more believable the more the capitol will want them to get married and pick a district. Regardless of what they feel, they need to make the Capitol obsessed with them in a matter of two weeks for the victory tour. We can worry about the rest later.”

You stood up, not able to take anymore second guesses. You were already doing that yourself. “We just took shifts keeping watch. That’s it.”

You knew they were right but the thought of showing affection toward y/n like that when you still weren’t sure what you felt made you feel…gross. Like you would be forcing her to do things she wasn’t sure of, or didn’t want. This, of course, only worries you about last night. About whether she meant to kiss you, whether you did. Whether she wanted to, or did so out of pity.

You evaluate every action, dissect every movement until Brutus comes in. Working with him is almost unbearable and nearly impossible to get into camera mode. He refuses to make it easy. He starts by quizzing you on everything you and her wrote down, any hesitation would result in breaking character and yelling. You maintain at best a casual conversation, which gave you hope on how things would go with Caesar if it came to that. And you needed it to come to that.

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure?”

More than anything, actually. “Yes.”

Brutus rolls his eyes and grunts in what you assume is disgust, but he continues with the questions. Y/n comes back with her brothers behind her and interrupts, “Its my turn, Cato.”

“I don’t have anything to ask you.” He dismisses her but Y/n doesn’t budge

“They asked you to question him because you would be the harshest judge. Its my turn.” She turns to you and asks if you can talk to her brothers, and simply nod and follow them into the kitchen. You hear her tell him he needs to really try so neither of them waste eachother’s time and you’re tempted to hang back and hear how it all plays out.

“So what happened yesterday?”

“Hm?” Mallory’s voice snaps you back and you wonder exactly how much shes told them. You only remember her demand to keep them out of it. “In the woods?”

“Yeah. How bad?”

“Not…great. She was doing okay until she tried to shoot an arrow. Then she remembered her games and was thrown off.”

“So, she did hurt herself trying to get the knife?”

“Yeah she thought she needed to grab it quickly and ended up fumbling it before she actually got a good grip on it.”

“Probably good you were there. She trusts you.” Amal pipes in. Guilt hits you like a train again. Mallory just nods but you’re sure he has more questions about what is happening around here. Around their sister. How were you all supposed to help her? How could he help her? Questions you can never answer. You ask more about the hob. Wondering if you could go there alone. Mallory doesn’t recommend it, most people in twelve even stray from trading there. Y/n comes in silently, sitting next to Amal. It was another obvious clue as to exactly how long she had survived in the woods. Her tread was soundless. Had she decided to simply outlive the others in the arena, you’re sure she could have done so.

“How did the interviews go?”

She shrugged, “I didn’t get much feedback. I’ll ask Enobaria later.”

Everyone decides to cook some food up for the two houses. Its seems like a simple breakfast food dish, but the smell that it creates makes you almost salivate. The others fill in as you all finish up. Mallory even has alcohol ready for Haymitch. He actually makes friendly conversation. They have fully accepted each other as family in one sense or another. You stop paying attention when you begin to eat. The voices all intermingle and you drown most of it out. Or you try to. Usually so many people around ends up making you nervous.

Brutus elbows you, forcing you to refocus. You only return his glare but listen to Cashmere as she calls out your name again, “You okay, Cato?”

“Sorry.” You mumble. “What did you say again?”

“Well, I’ve been tired of being cooped up here so I thought it might be nice to go out. I hear the music is completely different here. I was thinking Friday maybe? It would be nice for all of us to go. What do you think?”

Sounds miserable, but you know she’s beginning your public appearances. “Sure. Would be nice to get out of the house, see a different side to 12.”

Y/n smirks, “Tsk. Well, it wont be all that fancy but it is a fun time.”

“You’ve gone before?” You ask

“A few times. I did have some friends outside of my cousin.”

“Yeah, she used to sneak out to go dancing.” Mallory teases

She rolls her eyes, “I only went out a few times. Enjoying the little times I saw anyone that wasn’t strictly business. Besides, all of my old school mates treat me like I have the plague now. It could be good to try and show I havent changed all that much.”

Except she had, no one contradicts her but even she knows it. It was ridiculous of course, to think she only contained herself to the woods. She wasn’t forced to train for the games. But the thought of her missing her old life springs to your mind again. You listen to her stories. The music that is supposed to be banned plays on random days. No one trusts anyone with association with the capitol here, you wonder how she ended up getting the information. You think of your time at the hob. How everyone seemed to know one another. You wondered if she forced herself to buy things there just to gain their trust back. You thought about Darius and how he had kissed her, and you actively have to work to keep the scowl off of your face. You wondered if some of peacekeepers took shifts so as to not get anyone in any real trouble.

The rest of the day is a blur. Plans, conversations, nothing seems to stick out in your mind. You’re relieved when everyone disperses. And even more so when Y/n whispers for you to go to her whenever you can. You wait until you’re sure everyone has at least gone to their rooms before going to find her. You barely knock, terrified of being ordered to go sleep elsewhere.

“So what happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You seem upset.”

“More worried.”

“Because of what Enobaria said this morning?”

“Mostly. This just…it doesn’t end you know? We’ll have to keep this up forever.”

“I know. Whatever happens we will need to prove to the Capitol we’re together. Could you do that? For that long?”

“Could you?”

“Yes.” You realize you were terrified of any other answer. You decide this cannot keep happening, the same conversation, the same worries making you doubt your plan. You can worry another day. You lay down next to her, ask her to get closer. You decide you wont try anything again. Not until you’re in front of the cameras. Just in case. But keeping eachother company you would allow. If only for your own sanity.

The days go on and Friday is upon you quickly. Y/n’s brothers go on ahead, making sure the music wouldn’t stop because of you and the rest of the victors presence. The group watches as the people dance around you. A few peacekeepers get visibly nervous but slowly let loose as well. Y/n makes small talk with some people around her, offering whatever money she has on her to several of the people who work at the hob. Some stands are still open and you find yourself buying a bracelet similar to yours. You rejoin the group for awhile, Y/n dances with her brothers once, and once with Darius. You try not to let that one bother you, especially since he asks several people to dance with him. She gets all of you to try the faster paced dance movements, Cashmere does exceptionally well. You... do not. You all sit and enjoy other people dancing when Cashmere nods to you. Now or never, you brace yourself as you lean over to whisper in Y/n’s ear.

‘I think its time.’ She smiles and nods and the two of you walk to the farther end of where people are sitting. Close enough plenty of eyes would be on you and far away enough it looks like you both want to speak privately. You take a deep breath, there's no going back now.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun @themedsaintworkin @tiktoks-aphrodite @fredweasleysgirl16 @callsign-haze @thestrals-and-firewiskey @dreamsarenicer

#hunger games fic #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #cato hunger games #hunger games cato #cato imagine #cato x reader

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tc-doherty · 11 months

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I’ve told this story before but I'm going to tell it again, this is the story of my first writing critique.

Now I was writing even in kindergarten, and I decided to become an author for real when I was eight, but this is about the first time that I posted writing online, for someone else to read. I posted a chapter of something that I was proud of to a critiquing website.

The very first review that I got. The first time that I shared work for someone else to read.

The guy ripped it apart of course, and told me flat out, in no uncertain terms, that I should not write because I wrote nothing of value. I shouldn't bother writing because nobody would ever want to read anything that I had to produce, and the world would be a better place without my writing in it. That he would be ashamed to post something like that under his own name online.

That's the only review that I got for four days.

A review telling me that I should stop writing forever.

...

So naturally, I was very upset. And I spent a day or two doing some serious questioning. Soul-searching, if you will.

Should I stop writing forever, if my work is really that worthless?

The answer that I came up with was fuck that guy. My writing has value because I enjoy the act of writing. Even if my work was shit, even if no one ever read my work again, even if no one ever liked my work, I was going to continue to write because it's what I want to do.

And then after four days I got a second review from someone who had made it their life's mission to review everything that the first guy reviewed because he specifically went after new authors and said that kind of shit.

But I had already decided on my own that I was going to keep going.

My attitude of "I write explicitly and only for myself and my own enjoyment and everything else is secondary" was forged in fire.

Of course I like it when people like my work, who doesn’t? But people liking it is a cherry on top. 99.99% of enjoyment that I get out of writing is just actually doing it. Because I want to. Because it’s fun.

It was definitely a formative experience for me, to put it mildly. But when I give advice that people should be motivated to write because they enjoy it, this is the place that I'm coming from. If you are motivated enough by the journey rather than the destination, you can shrug off critiques like that with nothing but a roll of your eyes. Because there are always going to be critiques like that.

There are always going to be people who take your work in bad faith, and people who try to make you feel upset. To make you give up. And you know what? Those people don't matter at all. Fuck them.

Learning to write what you want because you enjoy the process of doing it is not going to lead you astray.

#writeblr #writing #anyway...#this is a true story #I cried so much at the time lmao

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yoonia · 1 year

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Hi! I hope you are doing well 💖 you are one my favourite writers on here and some of the first fics I have ever read were written by you. I am so grateful that you share them with us, truly.

Do you have tips or advice on what to do when feeling unmotivated to write. Or maybe things that have worked for you?

There are so many ideas and characters I’d love to write and share on here but I have no motivation and inspiration is hard to come by. I don’t have much interaction or engagement from readers or mutuals and it makes things 10x harder. Oddly enough though, I feel obligated to write and share fics and I feel really bad when I don’t or haven’t posted anything in a long time.

I’d love to cultivate a little community of my own. But it seems almost impossible and idk what I’m doing wrong. I know I shouldn’t let it affect me so much, but it’s something I get really upset over.

Hello! I'm sorry for replying so late. I've been offline due to my moving process and going through some health problems in between so I couldn't come back until now.

What a coincidence that you are sending me this message, as I have been getting trouble finding motivation to write as well.

I totally get what you meant about finding it harder to get motivated to write with the lack of interaction, because I feel it too and I'm sure there are a lot of writers who experience the same thing. It can be hard to overlook this thing since as fanfic writers who write and share these stories for free, interactions in the form of feedback, comments, reactions, or any kind of engagements from readers are the validation that we all need to push us to keep going forward. Without them, that "push" that we often need wouldn't be cultivated the way we need them to be. So it's perfectly normal to feel upset for not being able to find your audience, although oftentimes you just need some extra patience because different people can go through different phases and growth.

For me, personally, I often find my motivation by reconnecting with the passion and love I have for writing. I try to go back to my old works to remind myself why I started and try to figure out what I'm trying to focus on (eg. I'd usually question myself if I'm doing this simply because I enjoy the process of writing and sharing it, or if I just want to gain audience). As of now, I tend to motivate myself to write simply to finish what I've started. If I do get audience coming to read and send me feedbacks or any kind of engagement, then I would look at them as the reward I deserve for my hard work. Surprisingly, it's been working so far, if only to make me feel like I've accomplished something and to please readers who have been waiting for it. You might be able to find your own reason to push yourself forward, and sometimes it's okay to take a step back and find that core reason because people can have different meaning and purpose even in doing something that is similar to one another.

Building your own community takes work and a lot of patience. I'm not sure how much you've done or why you feel like you're doing something wrong, but the only thing I can say is that it's always better to be your true honest self. Try not to look at others and copy what other people are doing, if it's too much for you. Your audience are your own. Just like what I've mentioned above, different people can go through different phases of growth, and you might be able to invite different groups of audience compared to other writers that you've known so far. Some writers can build their community and gain audience within days, but others can take weeks, even months to go there, and that's really okay.

If trying to reach out to your audience through your writing hasn't worked as well as you wanted it to be, perhaps you can try a different approach. Try opening yourself more, share some personal stuff (without revealing too much of your personal life if you're not comfortable. for me, I just share about my cats lol), hold ask games when you have time to draw attention from your followers and gain more engagement with your mutuals, or, if you're not confident with it, try to do those tag games if your mutuals or people you're following are doing them and openly tag others to join the game, or perhaps open your request box if you're one of those writers who can work fast enough to get things out (unlike me lol). Allowing your audience to see who you are as a person can give you more attention, draw more engagement, and maybe allow you to enjoy being on your blog more when they do welcome you. Again, try to look at what has been working for you so far and what hasn't. It's okay to do some trials and errors. None of us here has ever done things or gained things instantly either, and we mostly grow by seeing what has worked for us to help build that community and to make us stay.

I'm not sure how much of this would help, but I do wish you can have more fun both in writing and in building your own audience to stay in the community. Good luck :)

#misc: tips & tricks

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loopy-froots · 3 years

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Childhood Friends

Brahms Heelshire x afab!Reader

Author: @loopy-froots

Word Count: 3261 (WOW wtf…)

Slight request by @leahromanof : small age gap (Brahms is 26-28 and the reader is 20)

Summary: The Reader grew up very close to the Heelshire family, as their parents were business partners with them. However, after the fire incident, Brahms and the Reader took some space from each other. While the Reader knew Brahms was still alive, they didn’t know under the circumstances he was. When a sudden tragedy strikes their family, the Reader is left with no home. The Heelshire family offer their home with welcoming arms, but much has changed between all of them since they have last seen each other.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, swearing, slasher x reader, smut, virgin/unprotected sex (masc and fem), abusive parents (fem), insecurities (on both parts), slight age gap (6ish years?), a slight size kink (if you squint?), etc.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t too sure what to write for the age gap so I hope this is good enough!!! I also threw in a lot of personal needs I’ve been having, so I hope y’all don’t mind! Feel free to let me know your thoughts!!!

~~~

*2nd Person POV*

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were finally going to see your beloved childhood friend, Brahms Heelshire, again after close to ten years of separation. You wished this was not under these circumstances, as you never intended to cause your family such turmoil.

“Y/n! Come in, why don’t you?” Mr. Heelshire exclaims as he opens his front door. He must have seen you walk up their driveway. You can see Mrs. Heelshire inside, but she shares a concerning expression. Trying to brush it off, you step inside and am greeted by the warmth of the house. It was a terribly chilly winter day, and the walk there exhausted you.

“Come, dear! Let me get you a cup of tea to warm you up! You look rather frozen!” Mrs. Heelshire snaps out of her funk and laughs al0ng with her husband. Their jovial attitude makes you feel rather welcomed and loved.

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire… I… I’m terribly sorry that this all happened… especially so suddenly…” You look down with embarrassment.

“Nonsense! We’re always happy to have you, Y/n! Our home is yours!” Mr. Heelshire smiles at you, but you get a somewhat urgent vibe from him. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you figure since they’re being ever so kind you were in no position to question.

“Now, dear… why don’t you tell us exactly what happened… Perhaps we may help with your parents’ situation?” Mrs. Heelshire gently suggests, but you shake your head in disagreement.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure that’s possible… you see, I recently came out to my parents as non-binary… they’ve never been overly supportive of that kind of stuff, but I knew I couldn’t hide myself any longer…” You explain shamefully.

“Oh my… that is a rather difficult predicament, hm? However, we want you to know that we fully support you… in fact, our own Brahms considers himself genderfluid,” Mrs. Heelshire shares, which honestly makes you feel less alone.

“Really? I… I had no idea… Thank you, but speaking of which… where is Brahms…? Does he still live with you?” You wonder.

“Oh, um… yes… he does, but he’s grown to be rather… timid… so he doesn’t always come out when people are visiting…” Mr. Heelshire explains swiftly, and you try to understand. You don’t fully know what he’s been through, so who are you to judge his social anxieties?

“That’s alright. Well, I just hope he knows how excited I am to see him again…” You confess, causing a surprised reaction from the Heelshire couple.

“Really? Well, that’s certainly wonderful! I’m sure he'll become more open to meeting you after he gets used to you being in the house…” Mrs. Heelshire states with a gentle smile, and you nod your head in agreement.

With that, you are then taken on a tour of the house. You’re shown areas you can and cannot wander to, and you mentally note each location that’s off limits. You’d never want to make the Heelshires uncomfortable, despite how curious you were. They show you to your room, which you immediately recognize as Brahms’ childhood room.

“Oh wow! This looks exactly how I remembered it!” You giggle.

“I’m glad you’re fond of it still, as Brahms insisted you take his room for your own… comfort…” Mr. Heelshire shares, but something tells you he’s not entirely being honest. However, you ignore the feeling bubbling up in your stomach.

“Well, feel free to unpack your things dear. As we mentioned before, we are planning on going on a trip within the next few days. So it will be just you and Brahms for a while…” Mrs. Heelshire reminds you, and you shiver slightly for some reason.

“Oh, yes… Well, I hope the two of you enjoy it!” You politely respond.

~~~

“Goodbye, dear! And remember, follow the rules and you’ll get no trouble from our dear Brahms!” The Heelshires bid you farewell and leave in their cab. Closing the door, you sigh in relief.

“Alright, follow the rules… I can do that… it’s the least I can do since they were so kind as to let me stay for a while…” You motivate yourself.

“Y/n…” A sudden familiar, childlike voice echoes through the house. You looked around to see who it came from, but you saw no one. It had to be Brahms, right? Who else could it have been, but where was he?

“B-Brahms?” You sheepishly call out. You hear no answer and suddenly feel quite stupid. Maybe you just heard the shifting of the house or imagined someone was calling your name?

“Alright, focus… first things first, making some lunch… hopefully he’ll come down to eat with me…?” You hope. You could’ve sworn you heard another childish giggle somewhere, but you try to shake the skittish feeling building up. You quickly make whatever you feel like for lunch, desperate to finish so that you can call Brahms down to eat.

“Um, Brahms? I… lunch is done… if you want some?” You yell throughout the house, but you hear no answer. Finally feeling defeat, you turn back to the kitchen and notice that one of the plates of food has disappeared.

“How did he get to it without me noticing?” You ask out loud. Every instinct within you tells you that something was wrong, but you tried your best to give the man some time to adjust to the new living situation.

“Y/n…?” In the middle of eating, you hear a now more adult version of the voice you heard earlier. You drop your fork in surprise and frantically look around for the source. You then see a tall and scruffy looking man standing at the end of the dining room. He was holding the plate that is now empty, and you figure that must be Brahms. He was very odd looking, in all honesty. He wore a porcelain mask that resembles the type of little dollies you used to keep as a kid.

“Oh, um… h-hello, Brahms…?” You try to be friendly towards him, despite the creepy feeling you got from him already. However, him not answering causes the suspicion to form again.

“Um… did you enjoy the meal I made for you?” You try to spark a conversation, but Brahms nonverbally nods in response.

“That’s good! I’m… glad…” You smile awkwardly at him, but his masked face remains expressionless. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, and Brahms notices the tense state you’re in. He begins to step closer to you, and sets his plate on the table. Sweating profusely, you wonder what he’s doing. He steps closer and closer to you until he’s directly in front of you. While you sit, he towers over you. You’d never admit it, but he’s very intimidating. However, you try your best to be polite.

“Is… everything alright, Brahms?” You ask innocently. He just stares at you, though, never saying a word. When you were about to get up and try to walk away, he grabs your arm and pulls you into him.

“B-Brahms…?!” You exclaim as he squeezes you in his broad arms. He’s rather warm, but trembling. Your heart relaxes when you realize he only wanted a hug.

“Y/n… nice to see you again…” He finally peeps out. Your cheeks heat up, but you lean into the embrace. The two of you just hold onto each other for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Good to see you, too! I was worried you were upset with me for coming back after such a long time…” You try to pull away and look him in the eyes, but his grip keeps you there.

“Mm, no… not upset… lonely…” He breathes into your ear, sending a chill down your back. He was… lonely? That makes you feel bad… really bad… how could you leave him like you did after the incident?! It wasn’t completely your fault, as you parents were the main reason you stayed away. They told you what a dangerous person Brahms was, and they forbid you from being influenced by him in any way.

Additionally, your parents never liked how fond the two of you seemed towards each other, despite the slight age difference you had. Brahms was only six years older, and to you it didn’t matter for terms of friendship. However, your parents saw the attraction Brahms had towards you right away. As children, it only developed into a little crush, but the older the two of you got the more obvious it became, to the adults at least. You seemed quite oblivious to his attempts to woo you, as you had just thought he was being friendly.

“I…I’m sorry, Brahms… I should’ve… I wish I’d have… I’m sorry…” Tear well in your eyes as you look down from his gaze. Your focus then shifts to the ever growing bulge in his pants that you hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s alright… happy you’re here now…” Brahms strokes your hair with his free hand, and he leans into you. You feel him stroke your neck with his nose, seemingly trying to get a reaction out of you. Completely frozen, you felt unsure of what to do. All of the sudden, your head’s ideas clicked and made you realize the years of yearning he’d been doing for you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t still have feelings for the boy you grew up with. You always admired how protective he was of you. You never admitted your affection towards him, though, as you thought he might react negatively. To you, the age difference acted as a barrier, but to him, it seemed he didn’t mind in the slightest. All he’s ever known was his love for you, despite the age gap. However, is this still the same boy as before? You probably barely knew him anymore. Then why were you getting so flustered over this simple interaction?

“Brahms?” You look back into his eyes with a curious glint. What was he planning with you?

“Hm?” He nonchalantly answers.

“Are you…?” You start, but then feel too embarrassed to finish.

“Yes,” He agrees without needing you to explain. You feel him jerk his hips into your stomach softly, desperate to get some friction between the two of you. As intoxicating as he was being, you still felt unsure of your stance with him.

“I’m not sure I want to… I mean, this is so soon… don’t you think?” You try to reason mainly with yourself to try and stop this from happening. With that, Brahms stops and pulls away from you with a pout.

“No?” He questions with sweet eyes.

“I… yes…?” You try to stand your ground with yourself again, but it’s no use. Brahms’ heartfelt pleading turns you to putty in his hands.

“Please?” He begs. With that, you finally agree, and he’s onto you. Groping all up and down your sides, front, and back, he feels every inch of your body as if he’s desperate to find something in you.

“Brahms… wait…?” You stop him again, realizing you hadn’t seen his actual face yet. You politely ask him to remove his mask, but he visibly slumps.

“Why…? You… don’t want to see me…” Brahms insecurely explains, but you shake your head.

“I do! Please…?” You whine as he continues to feel up your back. Brahms hesitates slightly, then agrees. With that, he slowly removes the porcelain from himself. This leaves his bare, burnt, and uncertain face into your view. You’re unsure of what to say at first, as your feelings are conflicted. However, you quickly decide to go with what your heart felt.

“You’re so handsome, Brahms…” You confess with a sheepish smile. He doesn’t respond, though, almost as if he’s debating what to say as well.

“Mm!” You moan through a sudden kiss he placed on your lips, making Brahms smile to himself in the kiss. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He quickly realized you were feeling the same towards him, and that gave him the confidence to continue. You rapidly grew a certain heat in your pelvic area, but the feeling was still unfamiliar to you. Only on the rare occasion did you allow yourself the pleasure, but you felt guilty for it every time.

“Slut… whore… useless daughter…” Your parents’ past words radiate in your head, and a panic washes over your body. Brahms senses your inner conflict again, and stops once more.

“Y/n…?” He gently asks to see if you’re alright. Tears well up in your eyes as the guilt of disappointing your parents consumes you.

“I’m sorry, I just… my mom and dad would be so upset… I just feel so… lost…” You admit, and Brahms wipes your cheeks with his calloused hands.

“Mm, screw them…” He chuckles darkly.

“But…” You try to argue, but he shushes you instead.

“They’ve never been good to you, Y/n…” Brahms shares, and it confuses you at first. They’ve always given you food, shelter, and anything else a child would need.

“But they… they mean well…” You try to reason it out, but he still disagrees.

“I’ve been watching, listening to how they treat you your whole life, Y/n… the way they scream at you, gaslight you, disappoint you… that’s not love… that’s abuse…” Brahms whispers with a broken heart for you. The pain of realization hits you, but you try to muffle your cries with your hands over your mouth.

“I’m so sorry… I know how hard it is… but I… I want to love you… really love you…” He kisses the top of your head sweetly. His words fill your heart with hope that you might not be miserable the rest of your life.

“Really…? I mean, I would love that… but I don’t want to force you into anything…” You self doubt yourself.

“Absolutely. I mean, hell… why do you think I was doing all of this?” Brahms wonders, and you suppose he’s right.

“Yeah, true… I’m sorry, I just feel bad… but thank you, I’d love to… y’know…?” You admit with a shy grin, which he immediately returns.

“Good,” He smirks and kisses you again. This time, the kiss was much more desperate for the sweet result. Brahms shows no mercy for you this time as he begins biting your lips. Your little gasps invoke a strong sense of pride within him. He was making you feel this way, and he alone would make you feel good.

“Hm,” His deep voice rumbles in his chest. Your eyes flutter open and shut, unsure of how to go about this situation. Squirming around awkwardly, you then feel Brahms grab your waist as he lifts you up and onto the table.

“Ah! Brahms...?!” You yelp in surprise.

“Take off your shirt, Y/n.” He demands, already sliding his hands underneath. You timidly follow his instructions, removing your shirt and bra from your body. Brahms looks down from your face and onto your breasts. He adored them, so he ran his hands over them as he gave each nipple a cheeky pinch.

“Oh, Brahms…” Your eyes close in bliss, but he snaps your attention back to his eyes.

“Look at me,” He suggests sternly.

“O-okay…” You do as he wishes and stare deep into his icy eyes. He’s tender and gentle, but he still makes you feel so small next to him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/n… I’ve always loved you…” Brahms brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, giving him a better view at your beauty.

“I have loved you for the longest time, too, Brahms… I just never knew how to tell you…” You try your best to express your feelings, but your past experience with doing so has never been easy for you. Each emotion you shared ended in an argument with your parents.

“I’m so glad… please…” Brahms pleads, leaning his forehead against yours. He didn’t have to finish for you to understand what he wanted.

“C’mere…” Your sudden burst of trust hits the two of you like a train. Brahms roughly attacks your neck with his lips and teeth, nipping at all your sensitive areas. Exploring each and every inch, he scopes out which areas you like best.

“Mm, Y/n…” He whimpers, rubbing his needy cock against your body. You had neglected it for far too long, and you wanted to give it some love too.

Lowering your hand down to his member, you stroke him through his pants. Pre-cum leaks from his tip and soaks through his underwear slightly. His moans fill your ears with sweet misery. The lack of being inside of you was killing him, but he wanted to take things slow for you.

“Ah, Y/n…! Please! I’ll be a good boy!” He begs you to allow him entrance, and you agree. Instantaneously, he pulls his clothes off and prepares his painfully hard cock to slide into you.

“Oh! You feel… so tight…!” He didn’t tell you, but this was his first time as well. The first feeling of being inside of someone, especially when that someone is you, was the best feeling he’s ever felt. He couldn’t help himself but pump in and out of you. He tried his best to go slow, but his selfish excitement got the better of him. However, you were far from upset by this.

“Ah! D-don’t… stop…!” You plead with him, and he obliges. Slapping his body into yours in a rhythmic motion causes you to quickly feel that coil in your stomach tighten around him.

“F-fuck…! You’re gonna make me…!” As quickly as it started, your love making ended. The two of you came together simultaneously, and everything felt perfect to you. However, Brahms felt a wave of guilt.

“I… I’m sorry… I wish I had lasted longer… and I shouldn’t have pressured you into this…” He goes on and on about all the things he could’ve done better, but you then stop him with a chaste peck on his lips.

“You were perfect. Thank you,” You lovingly look into his eyes. He searches for any sort of regret, but when he finds none he settles into your arms.

~~~

MY REQUESTS FOR DRAWING AND WRITING ARE STILL OPEN!! FEEL FREE TO SEND AN ASK/MESSAGE WITH YOUR IDEA!!

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wallflowerimagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #angie the doll #swearing #insults

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punzywunzy · 3 years

Note

Hello! I has request!! (Afab anatomy if you would)

So... I’m a huge Sam fan. And I was thinking, sitting in his lap and his hands are running up and down thighs and such while whispering dirty things in her ear, and telling reader to touch herself to his voice? This can be c!Sam cc!Sam I really dont mind either

dom!sam and sub!reader although I feel like that doesn’t need to be said...

haha sorry I just have a huge voice kink and i love any and all thighs

(also so sorry and it’s totally cool if u don’t want to but... can I get your opinion on my blog’s aesthetic? You don’t even need to read anything I promise just a rq glance)

「 Reward 」

pre a/n;

i like this request! when i have the motivation i’ll get right to writing it!

i also really love your blog’s aesthetic! pink and purple compliment and go together really nicely! man, i also love the title “euphoric madness”, it just sound so cool tbh-

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

after a/n;

not the proudest of this one cause i feel as it goes by too quick- but i liked writing it :D

even though it took me like months-

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

warning(s); dom/sub, degrading, some praise, lap grinding, voyeurism (masturbation), auralism/voice kink(?), slight size kink, sir & princess nickname

anatomy; afab (female!anatomy)

═ ═ ═ ═ ═

you peaked your head through the crack of sam’s office door to see if he was busy. you were touch starved and just wanted to feel the warmth of sam against you.

he caught your eyes immediately and gave you a welcoming smile with a beckon of his index finger to come to him. he took his headphones off and set them on his desk as you shut his door and made your way towards him.

you were about to straddle him but he took ahold of your hips and spun you around. squeezing and pulling you down to sit backwards on his lap. your legs hanging off his thighs that rested against his chair as your back fit snugly against his chest. he towered over you even while you sat in his lap.

you didn’t think anything of it. just innocent lap sitting and cuddling. what you two usually did.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his face into where your neck and shoulder connected. you giggled as he kissed lightly and scattered kisses to your neck, shoulders and everywhere between.

it was until he started sucking lightly on your neck that made you bite your lip and hold a shaky breath in. a low chuckle reached your ears as a hot breath fanned against your skin. shivers ran along your spine as your back started to arch. he continued, trying to leave every inch of skin untouched.

you were just starting to enjoy the feeling until he pulled away. you tried to keep your enjoyment secret and not let him know he was giving you sweet pleasure, but unintentionally letting out a small whine. you just knew he had a smug look.

he kept his hands on your hips. just barely moving your hips to grind against his growing hard on in his nike shorts. he couldn’t help but stifle a groan as you started to wiggle your hips and ever so slightly bounce.

you softly giggled as you managed to get a noise out of sam. you arched your back a little more. leaning over and resting your arms on his desk as you wiggled and grinded against the thin material of his shorts.

“you like that, sir?”

such a simple sentence that made something in him snap.

he wrapped his large hand around your throat as he pulled you back against his chest again. his other hand slowly sliding over your chest and further. groping your breasts and teasing them through your shirt and bra. you threw your head back against his shoulder wanting more.

“mm, feel good princess?”

the nickname made you clench your thighs together as well as let out a shaky moan.

his chuckle rang through your ears while his hand traveled further down to your thighs. your slipshorts barely covering them as you noticed how much skin was exposed. his hand came to a stop and settled on one of your soft thighs. the hand wrapped your throat doing the same.

you knew where this was going. and you tried fighting it already embarrassed with wearing short shorts.

you tried clenching your thighs even tighter as he did the opposite. his large hands trying to pull them apart as you tried resisting. but as sam was much stronger than you since this man worked out everyday of the week, he pulled them apart easily and kept them apart exposing yourself a little more. even with shorts on you felt exposed.

you let out an embarrassed gasp as you squirmed against him. thinking of the idea to grind on him again would distract him but only resulted in him gripping your thighs tighter.

whining and giving up as you let your body go limp, letting out a defeated huff.

“aw, is the whiny baby upset she isn’t getting what she wants?”

you refused to answer him.

sam would’ve gripped your jaw in an instant to get you to look up at him and give him an answer. but seeing as his hands were full with your thighs at the moment and he wasn’t letting go anytime soon, he let it pass.

“how about this sweetheart. you do me a favor and pleasure yourself for me, and i’ll give you a reward afterwards. sound fair?”

it somewhat sounded fair. you were getting to please yourself all you wanted until he says to stop and he’ll reward you. easy enough.

but, sam watching you.

you felt a flutter in your stomach. it was exciting but also just a bit embarrassing. his gaze focused on you and only you.

“yeah,,, sounds fair”

his hands already started to work your shorts down your legs. sliding them off easily as you watched him.

his right hand slid back up as his middle finger softly stroked over your panties. just his finger made you buck up into his touch.

you heard him chuckle again as he pressed down a bit harder with more force.

“already soaking your panties princess? does my finger feel that good pressed against your needy cunt?”

you whined softly. he was right. you could see the damp spot that darkened your underwear. you gripped his bicep, not sure if you wanted him to slow down or go faster. but sam had different plans in mind and retracted his hand away the place you were most sensitive.

you were about to ask why he stopped until cold air met with your wet sex as your panties were discarded in a second. a shiver running down your spine as you tried to close your legs again. you succeeded. at first.

sam’s hands attaching back to your thighs and pulling them apart without a struggle. you gasped as you felt exposed more than ever.

“now my sweet girl. play with yourself. feel how wet you are for me.”

you swallowed a shaky breath as you reluctantly reached your hand down. slowly but steadily teasing and rubbing your wet folds.

grateful for your body resting against sam’s for support. the natural body heat radiating from his chest and warming your back. letting out soft and breathy moans as you continued to touch yourself.

you felt sam kissing your neck once again. on the other side from where he first started. it felt nice. but you knew it would be nicer if sam was touching and stroking you instead.

you thought of what kind of reward he would give you. encouraging you to stick two fingers inside your dripping cunt as you let out a pleased sigh as you quickly started to move them in and out at a rapid pace. no time to go slow and edge yourself, you wanted the reward sam had in mind for you.

“so desperate princess, and all for a reward? does my slut want my cock that bad?”

your teeth dug into your lip. maybe a little too hard as you felt it start to hurt. but you didn’t care. you weren’t focused on anything but playing with yourself and sam.

“fuck, y-yes, so desperate sir, so desperate for your cock inside me.”

you picked up the pace. the obscene noises reaching both yours and sam’s ears as your cunt swallowed your fingers.

sam let go of one of your thighs. trailing his hand right above where you fingers were pleasuring yourself.

his rough calloused fingertips swiping back and forth on your sensitive clit, pulling a loud moan from you. a coil in your stomach getting more noticeable as you felt your cunt squeeze your fingers tightly.

“aw, is the dumb slut close? hm? you wanna cum sweetheart?”

he picked up his pace as his fingers continued to play with your clit. he flicked it a few times, as the puffy bud throbbed under his fingertips.

“f-fuck, fuck so close. i’m so close sam-“

your hand and wrist was getting tired and sore but you wanted to cum so badly. for sam. you thrust your hips towards your fingers as you gave yourself some leverage.

“yeah? gonna cum?”

you nodded your head vigorously right as the words came out his mouth.

tears were brimming at the corner of your scrunched up eyes. the edge of pleasure was so overwhelming.

“cum for me baby. such a good little slut for me and only me.”

his fingers pinched your swollen clit and pulled on it a few times. and the pace of your fingers going inside you over and over as you found that specific sweet spot and thrusted into it repeatedly. letting the coil in your stomach come undone. covering your fingers with your warm cum.

you completely relaxed your body against sam’s. catching your breath as you recovered from your intense orgasm.

“so good for me princess. so so good for me.”

he picked up your hand as he pressed them against his mouth. his lips enveloping your fingers as his warm tongue swiped and sucked your fluids off them.

you let out a tired chuckle as he continued to suck off everything he could get.

he took your hand from his mouth as he set it to relax on your thigh.

“now sweetheart. i think you deserve that reward you’ve been so desperate for. isn’t that right baby?”

you faintly nodded. already so tired.

he were startled as you were suddenly lifted in the air. you tried to look at sam but was suddenly tossed over his shoulder. you didn’t squirm nor protest since you were already so worn out.

he walked you down the hall to his room. well, your room too as you both shared one. he quickly opened the door and shut it behind himself as he laid you down on the edge of the bed softly.

“how about i treat myself since i helped you..”

he pulled your hips to the edge of the bed. slowly getting to his knees to level himself with your still dripping pussy.

you felt yourself clench over nothing but air. suddenly excited again. he kissed your inner thigh as he let out a chuckle. sending a vibration throughout your body.

“then... i’ll let you get the final part of the reward and pound you with my huge cock you’ve been so needy for. how’s that sound?”

you nodded your head a little more enthusiastically to show him how excited you were. you wanted him badly.

“well, shall we get started?”

#awesamdude smut #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude x y/n #mcyt awesamdude #mcyt smut #dream smp smut #pw:sam #punzywunzy

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levisgirll · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can you please do a Levi headcanon/scenario where he hurts his crush's feelings and makes her cry but later regrets it and tries to apologise to her? Thanks!

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 (𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

➡text: Hello there!! And omg of course I would be happy to write this out 🥺 the fact that to see levi apologize or own up to his mistakes is something that I would like to even write about- so thank you for this request! I hope you love it anon ♥ (incoming some fluff and you wont regret it!)

synopsis: it was a long tiring day and with under pressure levi ackerman had, he accidently said something to y/n (his crush!) which hurt her feelings. levi feels terrible and to make it up for it, made y/n realize that levi and her might share the same feelings for each other.

fluff, angst, aot world, imagine fanfiction ♡ —

It was a long stressful day at the Survey crops headquarters building, and Captain Levi was assigned with many paper work to get done with.

The last expedition made Levi worry quite a lot for Y/N and her safety. Sure she was skilled, and a fast thinker but that still did not stop Levi from worrying about her. It was because he was the captain he had to worry about his squad....right?

But after Y/N getting hurt on the last expedition because she is kind of ‘reckless’ to what Levi thinks and used as an excuse, his heart sank and he then realized not only did he care about her too much, but he also developed feelings for her and with time it grew. Just her presence, the way she was, caring, friendly, confident, her natural beauty and a badass made him fall for her more.

But ever since on that day, he blamed himself for her getting injured because she was on his squad team.

The upcoming expedition was next month and he was becoming even more stressed and load with paperwork because it was a bigger mission this time they never had. Y/N obviously noticed that so after having a chat with Hanji she went by to his office and entered inside. They become more comfortable with each other so she was pleased to enter his office whenever she wanted to.

“Hi Levi, how are you?” she said with a bright smile, trying to light up the mood that was surrounding in his office.

“What do you think sherlock?” He spoke in a sarcastic tone and then let out a deep sigh. “O-Oh, Um I was wondering if you would like some help with the paperwork? I am free the whole day.” Her kind gestures always somehow warmed his heart, he liked the fact how in her free time she would always visit Levi and try her best to help him. But tonight was different, it was too much pressure loaded on him, he was not thinking straight.

He didn't respond to her offer and instead he got up from his seat behind the desk and gave her a piece of paper. “Read.” Was what he only said.

You took the paper from him and noticed....you were removed him Levi’s squad! “W-What....why.” You said so quietly but it had a very unhappy tone.

“You know why. You are too reckless, and I don't want that in my squad.” He lied and looked away, it was not because of your recklessness and never was because you were brave and perceptive. But in fact, it was because he wanted to keep you safe and away from harm because this time his squad was placed on the front and he moved you all the way on the back where it was safer. He does not want to lose you.

“I-I don't understand Levi...I though you trusted me-”

“Yea I don't trust you, and I clearly don't have time for you either.” You couldn't believe what he was saying to you, this behavior was out of nowhere and it made absolutely no sense! But, he was your source of motivation and inspiration and when he said that to you, it shattered your heart to pieces. You thought he had faith and trust in you and that's why he added you to his squad, you thought....you were important to him. Well, was important.

“Levi, please this makes no sense. At least explain to me why!” You yelled out, demanding an explanation for what the hell was evening going on.

“Don't argue with me.” He now gave you one of his hateful glares, and you know in a million years you would never be getting that from him, you were completely taken aback now. “Leave now! That’s an order L/N”.

You eyes were widen now, and your eyes were slowly starting to tear up. These words, completely damaged you and your feelings, he even called you by your last name which he never does. You never felt so hurt and your stomach sank which left you static and....heartbroken. Hearing this is a ego-killer for you. The paper you held slowly fell off from your hand, and you brought your hand up to cover your eyes and started to softly sob.

He noticed that quickly, and he wanted to come and comfort you but before he could do that you stormed off, slamming his door, y/n never wanting to see his face again.

Levi took a moment to process everything and then realized he had actually messed up everything. Both of you were so close and the bond and moments you both shared, Levi cherished that deeply. But, he ruined everything, shattered the bond, and now actually ironically losing you. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes tightly, “Fuck...The fuck is wrong with me?! Why am I so damn emotional.” And it was a fact, he was that when he bottled everything up and then let out his steam saying some bullshit.

It was days, and he didn’t even see or hear about Y/N. He did not get any sleep, staying up, overthinking his stupid mistake and regretting this all. His gilt, anger towards himself and grief started to grow by each day, hating himself how he hurt the person he had a crush on and someone he adored a lot which then lead to him thinking how to come to you with his true and deepest apology.

He tried to catch any chance to get you whenever you are alone and say apologize, but whenever he saw you, you would just jolt and try to run away and leave the place.

He then noticed from Hanji and the other scouts such as Armin and Mikasa that you were clearly avoiding Levi. He caught you by chance one evening as you were sitting down in the mass hall eating your sandwich alone so cutely and he just missed seeing that sight whenever you both had breaks and he would watch you eat cheerfully but....you were so down, that spirt was gone.

He was approaching you, and you then noticed that and felt your stomach sink, ‘Is he coming to me? Wait...he is, it’s only me here!’ You thought in your mind, panicking and not knowing what to do.

”Good evening.” He uttered, but you noticed there was some nervousness in that tone.

You did not look up at him and you left your sandwich that was half eaten on the plate, and got up. You lost your appetite, and you proceed to leave the mass hall, but you stopped in your steps when you heard Levi yell out. “No...d-don’t go. Please just stay for a bit.” The way he said it, was under such pain and he it sounded as if he was begging you. He really struggled doing this, but he would do it regardless if it was just to speak to you again for a bit.

He caught up to you, and took your wrist while his thumb was caressing your skin. You were still looking down, not wanting to see his face because you knew if you did now, you would tear up again.

“Can we talk please?” He said really quietly, and if the mass hall was not empty you wouldn't be able to grasp what he had said. Levi was clearly tensed and not sure if what he was doing is right, he never done this before, apologizing and talking about his feelings. But he would only, and only do this for the person he loved. Y/N.

“What do you want?” it came out more coldly then you expected and that made him hesitate. He remembered the image of your expression and you sobbing that day and it is still graved in his mind. He cant seem to get it out his head and he wanted to hear your forgiveness so it could go away.

“I fucked up, I know. But fuck, I...miss you.” He finally said, in a nervous and stuttering tone. He now moved his hand from your wrist to your soft and cold hands, and you could feel his warmth, warming your hand.

He brought up his other free hand and placed his palm on his forehead. Clearly this was hard for him and he felt such a jerk and an idiot cause all his words is now gone and he wasn’t sure how to say how apologetic he was and how you meant the world to him really.

But he know thought, How could he do this to someone who regularly checked on him, cared for him and also actually saw him as a normal person unlike the other scouts who thought he was heartless and just labeled as ‘strongest solider’. Y/N was the only who truly cared for his wellbeing and he admired that a lot. “Hey....I’m sorry. Everything I said wasn’t right. T-To be honest it was your bravery that made me fall for you...and care a lot more about you. So, please tell me What should I do to make it up for you?”

This caused you to finally look up to him and staring at his grey eyes, and after such a long time you were able to see his face clearly and close up which never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You stared at him for quite awhile, kind of surprised to what he said and the fact he was holding your hand meant a lot. But Levi took this as you still not wanting to talk to him, he wanted to say more and better things but he was quite bad formulating any more cause it him nervous and afraid to say something else to upset you further. He really did care about your feelings. “I won’t go....till I hear your answer. I waited long enough.”

You spoke, and after a long time hearing your voice this nearly made him tear up and that was because you were a big part of his life. “I can’t stay mad at you forever, so I forgive you. But, you hurted me and I cant forget that easily. But for now, Just....hold me.” You went near him and now placed both of your hands on his chest. He did not waste any second and pulled you in for a hug. It was probably his first time hugging you like this and he never knew it would make him have this fuzzy and sweet feeling like this. Of course, he would hold on to your waist, arm and shoulders sometimes during battle or when you needed some support to get up and move. But this was different, and he questioned himself how he never considered that.

Y/N and Levi both finally made up with each other, and he was really grateful for that and even the fact you forgave someone like Levi, he felt really lucky.

Of course, it will take some time for you to accept his apology, but he wont give up just yet and he really makes an effort everyday, you guys took it slow and he is more than willing to wait for you ♥

As, regret and remorse can lead a person to feel sorrow, this can cause a sense of sorrow for hurting someone such as Levi’s crush, and even though it was bad, this lead to him finally confessing and saying his true apology if it weren’t for this. Time is a healing process after all.

Once you finally sat down with Levi and talked back (after the countless times he tried to initiate a conversation or start something such as cleaning together but never got much a reaction from you) and had a small conversation with him asking how was his day. This melted his heart and he actually felt really happy inside that you finally started to speak to him. He missed your company, your sweet voice, and....that smile.

You surprised him further when you gave him tea (because he gave you so many things to somehow make you smile) and his eyes lit up, Levi never felt so happy in the last few weeks. Then he knew, that you. y/n, was his light and source of happiness. He drank the tea slowly cherishing it.

wow okay this was kind of emotional then I excepted it to be, but I honestly see a scenario like this happening where levi struggles and tries his best to own up his mistake and apologize and he would only be like this if it was to his crush and someone he loved cause this man gets nervous <3 so please y/n, give him some more hugs, he might not seem to ask for any but he is deeply inside craving for it. It’s his best comfort as it is coming from you! Anyways, please leave a like or a reblog if you enjoyed this and I hope you liked this anon 💖

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

hi sal! i recently found your account and i'm so in love with your work! i seriously went through all of provided content in one day lol.

(not sure if this was requested but) i was wondering if it would be possible for you to write reactions of jujutsu kaisen characters to their s/o (or someone dear/close to them) having a hard time eating (not necessarily a full-blown ed but some disordered eating habits)?

if you are not comfortable with it/don't write this sort of stuff or simply don't want to, it's completely fine! but if you decide to do it, then i'm leaving to you to decide which characters you would like to do.

thank you in advance! 💛

hi baby!! thank you so much i’m so glad you enjoy my work 🥺and don’t worry, i don’t mind writing topics like these. i struggle a lot with food, not for any particular reason, i just have terrible habits, so this was nice to see in my inbox. i only did three characters, but if you’d like more, let me know!

i do wanna put a Trigger Warning, though, that even though this isn’t a full blown eating disorder, it still can trigger some. they’re small headcanons, but please be careful if you choose to read this! i’ll put it beneath the cut just in case! <3

fushiguro megumi; megumi is crazy perceptive, it’s honestly a little scary. he would pick up on your habits and the little patterns pretty early on, but i think he’d be a little too worried to approach you about it, most likely because he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s overthinking or reaching. he starts to hyper focus, watching what happens when you go out to eat, when he asks you if you’ve eaten all day, when he asks you if you’re hungry. when he does notice that something really is off, he starts to feel a little guilty, for not recognizing it sooner, for not being able to take care of his significant other. is very kind about it, and very subtle too. asks you to share a meal with him, so you don’t feel overwhelmed with the amount of food, gives you small snacks like fruits, maybe some biscuits or pretzels, and makes sure you balance it out with water. he won’t ever approach you about it directly unless it starts becoming a little too dangerous of a habit for his liking, but until then, he encourages and motivates you in his own way. but he remains hyperaware of you from then on, and builds the habit of constantly checking in you in regards to eating. i think megumi would also be the type to turn to research, and the research might really scare him into one day freaking out over you and just yelling at you begging you to eat. he just wants you to always be healthy, and he tries to make sure of it in every way.

itadori yuuji; not as perceptive as megumi, but definitely picks up on it really quickly. different from the boy above, he does approach you about it, over time, in intervals. every time you decline to eat, every time you tell him you’ve forgotten to eat all day, every time you skip meals, every time you binge at night, he asks you about it. at first, he doesn’t think much of it. it’s normal to occasionally have your appetite fluctuate, and it happens for different reasons for different people. but when he finds it a repetitive habit, he starts to get really concerned, and he’s unafraid to show it too. he asks you, “what do you mean you haven’t eaten yet? it’s 9 pm,” with the saddest, most confused face ever. he doesn’t understand it much, but that doesn’t lessen of his worry at all, in any way. to help, he makes you a lot of home cooked meals, in hopes that it’s slightly more appealing. he calls you when you first wake up and asks you to go to breakfast with him, encouraging you to order anything small. he comes over in the middle of the day with some bento. he asks to share tea and a small snack before you go to bed. he definitely considers just forcing you to eat so much, as if it could possibly make up for the past missed meals, but he realizes just how much this could backfire. he’s really gentle with it, with you. he becomes your personal alarm if you have a habit of losing track of time and not eating for hours, and if you call him complaining about how hungry you are despite the fact that it’s nearly 4 in the morning, he tells you the recipe of a light meal on the phone, something that wouldn’t upset your stomach, leave you too full for breakfast the next morning. like i said, very kind about it.

gojō satoru; he’d immediately notice and pick up on your habits. and he scolds you for it, jokingly, trying to hint at it lightly, but i actually think he’d be as subtle as megumi, if not even more, when it comes to helping you. he takes you out to eat often, even if you’re just strolling around food stands, and if you decline his offer to let him buy you something, he’ll simply shrug and say, “okay, have fun watching me eat then,” but then he goes ahead and buys so much for himself, and makes you try a little bit of everything that it’s almost as if he’s tricking you into eating a full portion by yourself. it’s not against your will or anything, he just makes it very appealing for you. he’s honestly very understanding about it as a whole, and is very open minded. he will approach you eventually though, sit you down and tell you he needs you to talk to him, and if it’s so bad that you don’t even realize your habits, he’ll make them clear for you, and tell you he wants to make it better for you, wants you to take better care of yourself. but like i said, he’s very understanding, so if you really don’t have much of an appetite, he won’t make you eat, but he’ll buy a drink, like some juice, a milkshake, anything that energizes you and gives you some sort of nutrients. if you’re working, he’s there by your side feeding you tiny pieces of fruit. he just does his best to make it that you’re healthy without making you too uncomfortable.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #tw bad eating habits #tw eating disorder

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kirislut · 4 years

Note

Hiiii, it is me 😎✌️ I had this request in my mind for a while, and when I found ur page I was like, I feel like you’d write it perfectly!!!! The request: Bakugou or Todoroki having a very tough day, then when their S/O tries to bring them like soup or smth, they throw it on the floor, and the glass cuts the S/Os hands and they try to hide it while picking up everything, and when the boy sees their hand w a bandage later on in the day, they feel SO GUILTY!! Also, w fluff at the end pls! Thank u!

a/n: heyyy 😎✌️, first, thanks for this request! second, i don’t know if i can write it perfectly but i hope you like it absksj. definitely don’t feel any pressure 😳 (i got too excited and wrote a lot....whoops)

warnings: bakugou(swearing), mention of getting cut, mention of blood

Katsuki Bakugou

bakugou is an angry guy, everyone knows that. but today he was especially pissed off. he had gotten into a heated argument with kirishima after training. usually he didn’t care but this time he knew he was wrong but was too damn stubborn and prideful ever admit it.

so instead of working it out with his best friend he was just extra pissed off today. which was unfortunate for you.

when he came back to the shared dorms, you were busy cooking some spicy ramen for the both of you. luckily you had finished training earlier that day, so you and time to surprise your boyfriend!

stomping feet could be heard as you dished yourself and bakugou up, and hearing the stomping meant you knew he was close by. lucky for you he was actually sitting at a nearby table, grumbling to himself about something. you didn’t know what however.

excited to surprise your lover, you practically skip over to the angry blonde. “katsuki! i made some spicy for you~” when you set the bowl in front of him he just grunted and swiped it off the table. “leave me the fuck alone.”

he didn’t even spare you a glance as you just gawked at him, what had you done wrong? gulping nervously you’re just turned to start cleaning up. you used napkins to pick up and wipe up the spilled ramen then started to pick up the broken ceramic.

you didn’t notice that a particular piece was sharp, grabbing it caused you to feel a stinging situation in your palm. so when you pulled away it dragged, creating a now bleeding gash in your palm.

a whimper escaped from you, quickly applying pressure to the wound to delay the bleeding. you moved to the kitchen and used paper towels to clean up your bloody palm, all while bakugou sat there blissfully unaware.

as you cleaned yourself up, the still extra angry male got up from the table and stomped off to his room. he scolded you to leave him alone, because he was actuallt considering apologizing. that thought was pissing him off, and not to mention thinking about how to be kind for once was a slight challenge. only because he was stubborn in this matter.

by the time bakugou was in his dorm room, you had finished up cleaning and were now wrapping up your hand with some gauze because a bandaid wouldn’t suffice. even if bakugou didn’t eat the ramen, didn’t mean you would let it go to waste.

but as your began to ate, you were replaying the situation to try and figure out what went wrong. sure bakugou has a bad temper but this was a different kind of anger which you haven’t seen before. you were absolutely certain you didn’t do anything wrong, so why was bakugou upset?

quickly finishing up your meal and putting away your dishes, you went to bakugou’s room because you were worried about him. it was honestly kinda crazy on how you weren’t even angry or upset with the male, just worried for him because you loved him that much.

everyone has their moments and slip ups were they release their anger on to someone else unintentionally, and you knew that very well. because of a certain boy.

standing in front of your boyfriends door, you knocked. when he didn’t respond after a few seconds you just opened the door and proceeded.

“oi! who said you— oh.” his angry expression faltered when he saw you standing there. lucky for you he was able to calm down after thinking it through and developing a plan. a perfect plan to be precise. nothing less from the ambitious guy himself.

“about earlier, are you okay? you haven’t eaten yet and i know you’re angry.” you shut the door behind you and join bakugou on his bed. bakugou lets out a sigh, leaning back against his headboard and staring at the ceiling.

“you a stalker or something? how can you always read me so well.” bakugou let out another sigh, this time more of a huff as he patted the space beside him. signaling you to sit by him.

as you scooted over to place yourself by him you responded, “i’m your lover katsuki, i think it would be bad if i didn’t know you well wouldn’t it?” the blonde glanced at you then did a little nod. he knew you knew him well, and he kinda loved how sometimes you could practically read his mind.

“i got into a fight with shittyhair, i don’t want to say more because i know i’ll get mad again.” as the spiky blonde explained, he noticed the gauze around your hand. he immediately grabbed your wrist, being gentle, and brought you hand up. “what happened.”

hearing bakugou’s stern tone made you gulp, “i cut myself that’s all! just need to be more careful.” even though you were playing cool bakugou also knew you too well as well. he thought back to when he spotted you in the kitchen, you didn’t have this before. even if you thought bakugou didn’t spare you a glance, he would always look at you once. whether you notice it or not.

his jaw clenched when he realized that he was the cause of this, great today he fucked up twice with two of the people he valued deeply. his silence was definitely worrying you, was he going to yell? you weren’t sure what to expect for once.

his next move you did give you a bit of a surprise. your boyfriend leaned forward and pressed such a soft kiss against your forward. you never knew his kisses could feel so gentle yet loving. “i’m sorry.”

even if his apology was simple, it was all he needed to say. the rest was communicated with his actions. you smiled brightly at bakugou, reciprocating his actions, you pressed a loving kiss against his lips.

the rest of the night was filled with lots of kisses and a plethora of cuddles.

Shouto Todoroki

there is no beating around the bush here, todoroki was having an absolutely terrible day. he was supposed to visit his mother but his father visited him instead. he lectured his son about how he needs to focus on becoming the number one hero, not messing around with a lover. this led to an agruement which also stopped him from seeing his mother because visiting hours had ended by the time he got there.

so when he came back to the dorm, after an entire day basically going garage. he was not happy, in fact he was quite pissed. he didn’t even try to hide his scowl as he passed by you.

“sho? hey sho what’s wrong?” your boyfriend stopped to look back at you. “(y/n) i’m fine. just a little tired.” todoroki went to turn, but you grabbed his hand.

“are you sure? you should eat dinner before going to bed at least. i even have some left over cold soba!” before he could reject you you dragged him off into the kitchen and served him the left over soba you made for yourself not to long ago.

“(y/n) i’m not hungry.” he replied simply. but you weren’t going to let him get off that easily. “sho please eat.” you insisted.

this turned into a banter of back and forth between you two. you kept insisting he ate, whike todoroki kept refusing. he was losing his patience with each time.

as a last cause resort and grabbed his hand and placed the bowl in it, “shouto you need to eat!” your tone was raised and more stern this time. you weren’t angry but just concerned and worried.

but this pushed todoroki over the edge. his hands trembled for a moment before he chucked the bowl at the ground, “(y/n), you don’t need to act like a parent. i can do whatever i want.”

the fact that todoroki didn’t even raise his voice at you, yet it held so much anger, made you tremble in fear. you stood there frozen in shock as your boyfriend proceeded to walk away.

your fists clenched at your sides, now you were getting upset like todoroki was. how could he just throw the food on the ground? besides he was never one to act like this. sure he got angry, as everyone does, but it was another level.

you crouched down and started to pick up the broken pieces of the bowl. trying your best to be careful. but as you reached for a piece of ceramic, another piece of the broken bowl dragged along your finger. immediately you pulled your hand back, cringing at the stinging sensation. there was another piece of bowl beside the one you were reaching, which had a sharp edge sticking up towards you.

you swore under your breath as bleed started to leak from the wound, getting up to take care of it before you finished cleaning up.

on the other hand, todoroki was cooling off in his room. and now starting to feel guilty for what he had said and done. he knew he shouldn’t have been so harsh with you. but you just happened to push him over the edge.

he wasn’t angry with you, no, mostly at himself. he knew he should’ve informed his father himself that he started dating you, but he never got around to it. which led him to finding out on his own and the previous agruement to occur.

but even if his father disagreed, there was no way he was going to lose you. he would prove that you were no distraction, and in fact motivation. before he could prove that, he need to apologize to you first.

leaving his room, he went back down to see if you were still in the kitchen area. but you weren’t, so he went back up to the dorm rooms.

when he got to your room, he didn’t bother knock and just opened the door. “(y/n)?” hearing todoroki’s voice made you look up from your phone. you were just scrolling on social media to take your mind off you little fight with your boyfriend

“shouto, do you need something?” you watched as he came into your room, shutting the door behind him, and going straight to you. he sat himself down across from you, looking at his lap as he thought of how to say what he wanted.

“i’m sorry for throwing your soba. i’m sure it was amazing, but i was just angry. before i was able to visit my mother, my father stopped me give me a scolding about how he disagrees with our relationship.” todoroki looked up at you as he finished, surprised to see how sad you looked.

“but (y/n) don’t worry, i’m not letting him stop our relationship. i can never give you up, please remember that i always love you.” he reached out and gently held your face in his hands, not wanting you to think that he would ever let someone like his father get in the way of you both.

your frown was soon replaced with a smile, honestly you were slightly embarrassed to let yourself think that todoroki would give up on your relationship just because of his own dad.

nuzzling you’re face into his touch, you reached up and covered his hands with your own. but as you did so, todoroki was quick to notice that your finger was covered up by a large bandage.

“was that from me?” todoroki asked as he frowned, letting go of your face and carefully taking your hand so that he could look at your finger.

“no sho! it was my fault, i was careless.” you watched as todoroki lightly shook his head. “no it’s my fault my love, i’m sorry again.” he brought your hand up to his face and placed a warm kiss against your bandaged finger.

watching him made your heart flutter, how did you end up with such a caring boy? todoroki didn’t stop kissing just your finger. he kissed the back of your palm then moved forward to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then finally your lips.

you smiled happily against his lips. you just so happy to know that nothing could get between you and your beloved. not even his father. and not even a bowl of soba.

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liliesinrequiem · 3 years

Text

Poem

A/N: I’m back! With another Kaeya fic. This is technically set during the Windblume Festival with certain changes. I hope you all enjoy <3.

This could also be read as a sequel to: Forfeit (Kaeya x AFAB!Reader). It doesn’t have to be read before this one really since you aren’t really missing much. You can if you want.

Pairing: Kaeya x Reader

Summary: Kaeya convinces you to write a poem during the Windblume Festival. You refuse to show it to him after hearing his ‘poem’ and avoid him for the rest of the day until you were unable to.

CW: Mentions of alcohol

“Why don’t you try and write a love poem then?” he asked. A teasing smile on his face.

“My way with words is incomparable to yours,” you said. He was the most convincing person that you knew. There was a reason that he was so loved. Just from speaking with him for a little while, a person would totally be enraptured by him. A charming man, truly.

“Didn’t you write that one riddle when I had to arrest those treasure hoarders? The one that could’ve been out of a romantic novel,” he said.

“I was inspired,” you mumbled. That whole setup had been some of your finest work. The maps and the riddles were something that you had dedicated some time to. Of course, he’d given a lot of guidelines as to how they should be. You’d just done a lot of the creative work. Everything just fell into place so well for him in the end. The dinner you earned was nice as well.

“Then be inspired again. I’ll show you mine if you write one and show me,” he said.

A fair trade you supposed as you took a piece of paper. The poem came easier to you than you expected. Maybe your own heart did have some inspiration that you did not desire to admit.

“That’s what you were writing this entire time?” you asked after his poem was read out loud by Venti. You were tightly holding onto your own poem, wrinkling its prior smoothness. Whatever thoughts you had in mind of sharing your own poem had vanished into thin air.

“Poetic, no?” he asked. You glared at him. Poetic? Sure. A love poem? No. Beyond that, when did he even have time to learn the language of the Hilichurl?

“I feel like I have to fail you for this,” said Venti, confused by what he had read.

“Please do,” you said.

“Did you write a poem, (Y/N)?” asked Paimon, pointing at the piece of paper in your hand. Everyone’s eyes turned to you and you could see how the Captain was smiling. Embarrassment filled your body as you folded it quickly and shook your head. He would not manage to win.

“Nope! This is just a list of things I have to do at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me!” You stored the poem in your dress as you left the room and the building. You’d rather be outside and help out there than remain within the same room as Kaeya.

---

“Lumine!” you said as you saw her a while later. You’d been helping out Noelle with carrying around some materials that were needed for the festival. But your friend was much faster and stronger than you were so she was probably at the destination.

“(Y/N)! Captain Kaeya asked us to search for you! He wants to talk to you,” said Paimon.

“Oh? He couldn’t search for me himself?” you asked. A question that probably sounded meaner than you intended it to.

“He said he was too busy finishing up some paperwork for Jean,” answered Lumine, “So we came looking for you.

“You’re too kind. No wonder you’re an Honorary Knight. But I can’t go right now.” You continued, “Tell him that I can speak with him later.” You really did not want to see him. You felt...slightly hurt. You weren’t even sure why you were. Actually, you did know why you were upset. You just didn’t want to admit it. In truth, you had hoped that his poem would actually have meaning. Unrealistically and stupidly, you had hoped that his poem might’ve been a confession.

But that was the thing about your relationship with him. It was more of something that you were walking in the dark, with no real designation of whether or not you were going in the right direction, and hoping that you end up at the right place. For all you knew, Kaeya was probably waiting for the day that he’d drop you and move onto the next one. Even with that possibility, you continued giving your heart to him. Whether that was stupid or not, you were still not fully sure. Some days it was worth it and others, not so much.

“We could help you so that you can talk with him. He said it was urgent,” explained Lumine. You didn’t doubt that he had told her that. He probably believed that if you were told that it was urgent, you’d drop everything and run to see what he wanted to see. You usually did but you felt that you had to hold your ground for a while longer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll talk to him when I can. He’ll understand,” you said. You bid them farewell and continued carrying the crate.

---

You’d managed to avoid him for most of the day. That was until you were called to Angel’s Share and asked to take him home. When you asked why they couldn’t, excuses came flying at you. Sister Rosaria said that she couldn’t as she had business to take care of and Diluc couldn’t either since he had to close up the place. Convenient that they both chose to do that now.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” You only mumbled a ‘no problem’ in response to Diluc’s gratitude as you pulled Kaeya to lean on your shoulder. The promise of free drinks motivated you to get the job done quickly.

“(Y/N)-” “Captain, be quiet. I would prefer if you didn’t get sick on me,” you cut him off. The walk back to his apartment was a hassle. It was either that he continued trying to ramble to you or that he was leaning too much on you and you had to take small breaks. You truly were exhausted from those crates earlier.

“Where’s your key?” you asked when the two of you stopped in front of his door. A fruitless question as his mind was somewhere else you would soon realize.

“How come you didn’t come to me when I asked earlier?” he asked. You didn’t answer as you checked both his pockets and fished out the key from the left one. To ask the question again would probably cause him to start talking about something else and you most definitely did not want to talk about anything.

“(Y/N),” he said.

“What?” Your voice sounded more angry than you meant. You pushed the door open and kicked it to close when the both of you got through. You sat him on his bed and started to look around the cabinets for a glass to fill it with water.

“Have you been ignoring me?” He sounded hurt. A rare sight to ever behold when he was constantly brushing everything off. Kaeya was rarely a vulnerable person. Years of having built up the walls around him to keep people out led him to being closed off from everyone. The fewest times that he was vulnerable was in the dead of night or when he was drunk. Every single thing that he ever expressed during those times had been stored into your heart.

“I’ve been busy today,” you answered as you handed him the glass of water. You turned to start looking for some clothes for the night. You doubted that he’d appreciate sleeping in his work outfit.

“That’s never stopped you before,” he countered as he drank the water. No response came from you since you knew him to be right. There was one time where you had to finish up something for Lisa and stopped doing it because he’d bothered you enough to do something for him. The librarian was upset and you only barely learned your lesson.

“Was it because of my poem?” You wondered how he even managed to figure that out.

“Maybe,” you said, “I just expected a bit more from you.” The poem that you had written for him was still in one of your dress pockets and felt like a stone that weighed on you. You’d poured a bit of your heart into it and the courage to give it to him withered away when Venti read his poem.

“I wrote an actual one,” he said. You placed some clothes on the nightstand and turned to look at him.

“Is that so?” you asked. You steadied him from falling over after you made your question. Just how much alcohol did he consume? The tab he had must be astronomical. Maybe not as bad as Venti’s or what yours had been at one point, but it had to be huge. Though you were jealous of his ability to remain coherent enough with everything in his system.

“Yes,” he said, “It’s here.” He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his shirt. “Read it,” he said as he pushed the paper into your hands.

You shook your head. For all you knew, it could be another joke and you weren’t sure that you could handle it. At least not with him looking at you while you read it. “Let’s get you to bed, Kaeya.”

“But I want you to read it,” he whined.

“And I want you to sleep because you’re drunk,” you said.

After you’d spent some time convincing him to change and to get ready for bed, you sat down at the edge of the bed and opened up the paper. He’d fallen asleep rather quickly and you breathed a sigh of relief as your eyes traveled to the first words on the paper.

“(Y/N),” began the poem.

---

In the early morning, Kaeya woke up with a mild headache. Memories of the day before were hazy as the hangover hit him hard. He looked at his nightstand and saw a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine.

Beside the nightstand was a small piece of paper. On it, there were three words: To My Captain.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya alberich #angst? sorta #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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seoloquent · 3 years

Text

project: dance, dance, revolution

summary - you hate that ai robots are beginning to take over the entertainment industry, but you have no choice than to help them. but what if it all didn't turn out to be what you thought it was?

pairing - johnny and fem!reader

genre - strangers-to-lovers!au, robot!au, comedy, fluff

word count - 10.101

warnings - cw! food, there might be some grammatical errors... i'm depending on grammarly on this one

author's note - this is for @pastelsicheng's ai project #14320 collab! this was honestly such a challenge for me since i have been in a writing slump for over two years i believe, but i'm glad it gave me the push i need. i am still super rusty, but i think the dialogue is cute, so i'm happy with it! thank you so much emmy for sharing your great idea with everyone, and i hope you all like it!

************************************************************************

Johnny AI AU - seoloquent

Kun was terrified.

Despite experiencing your various emotions throughout the five years of being your manager, he has never seen you this angry before. But, honestly speaking, he couldn’t blame you. He’d be just as mad if he found out his boss went behind his back and signed a contract with a company he hated. As much as he could sympathize with you though, Kun just couldn’t get himself to understand why you were so upset about working with LSM Incorporated. If he were in your shoes, he’d be doing backflips off the wall! The amount of exposure, and revenue you are potentially going to be receiving… Kun just does not understand what the problem is.

Although your strides were long and strong, Kun was able to keep up with you while making sure he kept his distance, as if a dark cloud followed behind you. As cautious as he was to not have you blow up at him, he still tried to convince you to not make a scene within the conference room by his desperate protests; in which you kindly ignored. Every single word that left his mouth went through one ear and straight out the other as you paid him no mind. You were in a tunnel vision; the only person you wanted to talk to right now was your boss.

Pushing the door open with much force (that Kun had to catch before it slammed onto the wall behind it), you caught the attention of the CEO of your company, as well as Lee Soo Man of LSM Inc. They flashed pleasant smiles your way, completely oblivious of your angry state.

“Y/N, just the person we wanted to se-”

“Are you serious?!” You slammed the contract papers down on the table, your eyes wide and fierce as they stared into your boss’s eyes.

Your emotions were still fresh from when you first received the signed contract papers from Kun about an hour prior. The feelings of betrayal and violation lingered within you, and the uneasiness it caused made you sick. How could someone lack so much human decency that they justified going behind their employee’s back, an employee that has their trust in them at that, and force them into labor; which they have already voiced that they did not want to do? It baffled you, and you were hurt, as you believed that you and your CEO had a great business relationship. But he took that open communication for granted and took advantage of you.

After realizing that you stormed in with anger rather than excitement, he pursed his lips and looked down at the papers, chuckling to himself. “Oh. So you’re still opposed to the idea.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I am!” Your voice rose as your eyes grew bigger. “You never talked to me about it again after the first time; what made you think that I changed my mind?”

“Y/N, I have to get you to notice that you are not the only one signed to this company. This will not only be good exposure for you, but for us as well.” He justified. He kept his voice calm, not only to calm you down but also to keep a professional demeanor in front of his newly established business partner.

“Oh, so you’re doing this for yourself?”

“Of course not! This is for the benefit of not only you, not only me, but for the company as a whole.” Your CEO reasoned. Before you could respond, he cleared his throat and turned to Lee Soo Man. “I’m sorry, but will you excuse us for a moment? I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation in front of you as our partner.”

Normally, you would be embarrassed that you presented this side of yourself in front of a potential partner, but embarrassed in front of Lee Soo Man? You care more about a monkey’s opinion about yourself more than his opinion. Besides, it doesn’t seem like he’s phased by your reaction at all. Strangely enough, when you turned toward the founder of LSM Inc., you realized that his arrogant smile had never left his face since the moment you stormed into the conference room. It gave you chills. He seems so artificial that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a robot himself.

After Lee Soo Man gave his, “No problem,” your boss stood up from his seat and escorted you both outside the conference room. The moment the door closed, your boss’s true emotion started to show. His eyes grew wide and his fingers grabbed onto his freshly trimmed strands as he breathed out a heavy breath of frustration. Equally as frustrated, if not more, you crossed your arms and made sure your gaze was unwavering; something you needed to learn after being manipulated many times from past experiences with people who work within the entertainment industry. You stepped your metaphoric foot down. Even if your boss had signed a contract without your acknowledgment, you were not going to do the job. That’s not your signature on the papers.

“Are you crazy Y/N?!” He yelled in a hushed tone, careful to not have anyone overhear your conversation. “How could you act like that in front of him?”

“Do I not have a right to be angry? You sold me away to a robot company Jack, a robot company!” You slapped the back of your hand on your other palm, now physically unable to withhold your emotions.

“I didn’t sell you away, you’re getting paid to do this job.” He spat. Now self-aware of how uncivil and unprofessional he was being, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease his nerves. You are going to get nowhere if you bickered like this, and if you keep it up, he knows he is going to say something he regrets.

Now keeping his tone soft, he revealed, “I chose you because you’re the best for this job.”

“Aren’t there other artists under this label who could do this? I’m sure they’re more willing to work with LSM than I am.” You matched his tone, hoping that this time you could get through to him.

“Those other artists can’t produce the same product as you can.” Jack shook his head disapprovingly. “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to waste any more of Mr. Lee’s time, so I’m going to make this short. I apologize in advance if you find any offense in this, but business is business.” You stared intently into his eyes, in hopes to understand where he was going with his next sentence, but his expression could not be read.

“If you can’t do this job, then I’m afraid that I’ll have to drop you from this label.”

You never knew what people meant by having their hearts drop down to their stomachs until now. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, your breath short and shaky and your knees weak. All these years… all this work you put in to make a name not only for yourself but for this company… it baffled you that all that effort could be thrown away so easily, just because of some AI company.

As much as you wanted to keep standing up for yourself and your role in the company, you knew there was no use. Your boss didn’t seem to give you a choice either, seeing that he walked back into the conference room shortly after his bombshell. The only thing you could find yourself doing is laughing bitterly to yourself while shaking your head. What in the world are you going to do now?

***

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go to a bar when you’re in a bad mood. The constant noise of chatter and the clinking of glasses did not soothe your nerves one bit. Rather, it made you even more annoyed, and on the brink of yelling out at everyone to just be quiet. Instead of making a fool of yourself in public though, you sat with your head under your arms, forehead resting on the cool surface of the bar. Kun, your designated moral support, sat next to you, tapping his glass of whiskey as he thought of what to say to you.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

That simple yet oh so effective sentence had you throwing your head back and releasing a loud groan. Your reaction had your manager shrugging, his face reading, ‘What did I do?’ You rested your cheeks on the palms of your hands as you thought: ‘What can I do?’

Gazing off into a space of nothing, you replied: “I dunno.” You shook your head, your hands still on either side of your face as you deadpanned. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do.” After a moment, something clicked in your head, and you set your arms down and turned to Kun. “Do you want to bail on them and start a company with me?”

He snorted at the inquiry. “You know we can’t do that! At least not right now. It’s way too last minute.”

You looked down at your arms with a sad expression and sighed. “You’re right.” Not only would it be an impulsive decision, but you had no motivation in you to own a whole entertainment company. “What am I gonna do?!” You cried out, your hands covering your face to hide your shame.

“Hey, hey, hey! Stop the whining!” Kun took your hands away from your face, revealing the pout on your face. “Everything is going to be fine! I’m sure of it.”

Kun, a big pep-talk kind of man, was always ready to reassure you when you were in doubt. And boy was he good at it. You still remember when you were growing anxious before your first big concert at an arena. The staff ran around the whole place frantically trying to find where you ran off to. Thankfully, your trustee manager was able to find your hiding spot, which was beside a vending machine in an empty hallway. His comforting words found a way to ease your speedy heart rate, and clear up your clogged mind. After that day, you knew you could always go to him when you were feeling down or unsure of yourself. He’s a friend you could always lean on.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, your voice so small that he almost missed the question.

“Think about it,” he set his glass to the side and folded his hands together, “this contract is only valid for six months. It’s not like you’re going to be working there forever.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know that; but still! I don’t want to do it at all!”

“You never know what will happen until you try though! You might end up liking it.” He nudged your elbow as he flashed a convincing smile.

“Me? Liking it?” You scoffed. “Kun, do you even know me?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. This situation was foreign to him since he always knew what to say. But now, it seemed like everything he was saying was making the situation worse. He wanted nothing more than for you to feel comfortable, but that mission is basically impossible knowing how much you oppose the AI industry. But still, Kun is a persistent man. He wasn’t going to back down just yet.

Finally, something clicked.

“Actually, your idea doesn’t sound half bad.” You cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised that he brought up something you spurted out carelessly. “Think about it: you’re still your own person. Even though you’re technically bound by a contract doesn’t mean that you can’t make a decision on your own. He did give you the choice to leave.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “So you’re saying that I should just leave the company?”

He shook his head. “No. What I’m doing is offering a deal. I want you to try to work with LSM for at least three months. If you try it, you might like it! If not, I will quit with you, and we can try to start a company on our own; which I know we both don’t want. But hey, that might be fun too.”

You thought about the proposal for a moment. It wasn’t too much of a bad idea. It was actually quite reasonable. Yeah, you aren’t looking forward to being surrounded by robots and their arrogant creators, but you guess that it’s worth a try. Just for the experience at least.

“I think we have a deal.” You held your hand out.

He took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, partner.”

***

You shivered upon entering the entertainment wing of LSM Inc. You were told that the lab would be a bit chilly, which is why you brought a jacket with you, but the cool air still found a way to nip at your skin through the material. You have to say, the lab was not what you expected it to be. Rather than it being some cold, plain science lab, it was made out to be much more casual. Your eyes settled on what looked like a lounge area for the employees, and you watched carefully as they conversed with one another with soft smiles on their faces. Scanning the place even further, you came across capsule areas, in which you assume where the AI robots stayed. As cool as the dome building seemed, you still couldn’t shake off the grudge you had against the company.

“Oh, you’re here!” A man holding a clipboard exclaimed. He ran over to you and Kun, flashing a bright smile. “Mr. Lee told me that we were to be expecting you both. I was hoping to greet you at the main lobby entrance, but I got caught up in another situation, so I apologize. My name is Kim Doyoung, I’ll be your guide for the day.” He politely held his hand out, and you shook it while replying with a small, “Hello.”

“We’re pleased to have you here with us Ms. Y/N. Please, follow me.” He motioned both of you to follow him. “I must say, I’m a huge fan of your music. I’m really happy that you decided to work with us for the next comeback.”

“Oh. Don’t mention it.” You shook your head while smiling slightly.

As Doyoung lead you to wherever he was leading you, he pointed out different areas to help you grow familiar with the lab. You learned that they have many recording and dance studios like regular companies do. You couldn’t help but wonder why, since they could just be programmed to sing the songs, but you didn’t bother to ask.

Finally, Doyoung stopped at a station, but his bright expression was replaced by a puzzled one. He looked around as if he were looking for someone. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at what stood before you. The tall human-like… thing, stared right back at you with a neutral expression. It gave you chills how real he seemed; like he could walk past you on the street and you wouldn’t bat an eye. Despite how anxious it made you feel, your curiosity outweighed that emotion, and you inched closer to get a better look.

Your tour guide caught you eyeing the bot, and that smile found its way back onto his face. He heard that you might be a bit opposed to working with the AI’s, so he was glad to find you expressing some sort of interest in their prized possession.

“He’s so human-” As if in a trance, you reached out a hand to touch the robot, but it suddenly stepped back just before you got to it.

“I’m sorry, but physical touch is not allowed unless permitted.” The robot announced before flashing a commercial smile.

Doyoung’s chuckled beside you. “For the safety of our bots, we have prohibited anyone from touching them.” He leaned in to add, “Too many fans at fansigns got touchy-feely.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Eager to get a feel of my bot already?” You heard a voice from behind you.

When you turned around, you felt as though you got whiplash. The man standing behind you looked identical to the robot standing before you. The only difference was that the robot had blonde short hair and was styled in fancy clothing whilst the man had long brown hair and didn’t seem to care much about what he had on. He had his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re late.” Doyoung deadpanned.

“I’m not late, I was taking a nap in the Pod, and nobody cared enough to wake me up!” The mystery man shrugged.

Finally, you snapped back into reality, but you still had to verify that what you were seeing was real. When you finally accepted what was going on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“How cute.” You snickered to yourself.

A puzzled expression masked the mystery man’s face. “What’s cute?”

“What is this? The Man and the Muppet?” Your comment had Kun nudging your arm and shooting you a warning look to which you responded with an apologetic gaze.

Not giving the mystery man any time to respond (merely because he does not have the patience), Doyoung spoke up. “This is Suh Youngho, he’s the head AI Developer of our department. He’s the creator of #S127.” Youngho put his hands behind his back and bowed as his greeting.

“I’m guessing his name is Youngho as well?” You pointed to the robot, still standing expressionless.

“He wishes, but no, we call him Johnny!” Youngho swung an arm over his identical twin of a robot, smiling brightly. “After a long and hard fight for it, he will be releasing his first solo album this year.” He wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “Johnny here is my firstborn, so this is going to be really special.”

“And you’re going to help us make it very special!” Doyoung cheered.

“Actually, speaking of that, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Wouldn’t it just be easier for me to give you guys a demo and you program him to sing it or something?” You asked.

Doyoung was quick to answer. “That would defeat the purpose of AI robots actually! The thing is, they’re supposed to learn to adapt to certain environments, like we do! So they learn how to sing songs and how to dance complex choreography just like we do.”

This time, Kun was the one to ask a question. “Aren’t you guys just putting more work upon yourself?”

“Yes, and no,” Youngho started, “It’s like a domino effect. The more work we give our bots means more research that needs to be done. The more research that is done, means there’s more data we get. The more data we get means a more refined bot, and then it loops.” Kun opened his mouth in an ‘ah’ shape and nodded his head after the explanation. “Hopefully we can get this bad boy to the point where we don’t have to do any more research and he can be a successful artist on his own.”

Even though this was all very interesting, you still couldn’t help but still be opposed to the thought of helping a robot making it in the entertainment industry. You caught a glimpse of the future as you fell into a daydream: AI’s getting a full sweep in wins at big music award shows, discrediting those who actually put their heart and soul into their work. Robots don’t have a heart, nor do they have a soul. Even if they do seem to “work hard,” they will never be on the same level as a human artist. It just won’t be fair, but what even is fair these days?

“So, to answer your question, we need Johnny to learn what it’s like to be a true singer-slash-songwriter. And to achieve that, he’ll be staying with you for the duration of the six months before his solo debut.” Doyoung’s words snapped you out of your daydream and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, so this is going to be like ‘Take your robot to work day’ or something? But just for six months instead?” You questioned.

Doyoung looked up as he thought, nodding and shrugging seconds afterward. “Well, yes, but we were hoping that Johnny could get the full package. We planned for him to stay with you 24/7 so that he could really get a feel of your creative process.”

You did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth agape showcasing your shock.

“E-Excuse me? You mean to say that he will be… living with me?” You spoke low and slow, scared of the obvious answer.

You didn’t see anything about this in the contract papers; not that you read it anyway since you weren’t the one who signed them; but still! You could feel your heart race as you thought of him living in your apartment, those brown soulless eyes studying every move you made. The vision made you shudder.

“Affirmative.” Youngho nodded firmly.

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest. “I’m sorry, but can you guys excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with my manager in private.” You said just before taking Kun’s hand and dragging him somewhere where the two scientists wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation.

“I’m living with the robot?!” You whisper yelled, careful to not have anyone nearby hear your anguish.

“In my defense, I had no idea about this.” Kun shook his head with his hands up.

You paced back and forth as you panicked. You lifted your hands, but not knowing what to do with them, you just clenched them into a fist. It seemed like your life was spiraling out of your control. Nothing is going your way, and it is driving you insane. You need to get your life back in order fast. If not, who knows what will happen?

“I swear, if he wasn’t the one paying me, I would kill Jack right now.” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s not like Johnny is a real guy. I doubt he would try to do anything to hurt you.” Kun tried his best to reassure you, but it was not doing much to help.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know what those guys are capable of!” You pointed toward Doyoung and Youngho. “That Doyoung guy is nice, but I don’t know if I can trust him. And Youngho seems like he’s gonna be a handful.” You stared at the said man as he and Doyoung bickered, probably about him being late again.

Kun turned his head to see the two men bickering, and the only thing he could do was chuckle. “I think they should be the least of your worries.” His comment made you sigh deeply. “You’ll be fine, I promise you!” He put his hands on your arms to steady you, but you avoided his gaze as you stared down at your feet with a pout on your face. “You know I’m always on speed dial if you need me.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” his call made your eyes meet his. “If all goes wrong, we can always dump a bucket of water over ‘em.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “Yeah, and then we’ll get sued and possibly go to jail.”

Kun smacked his lips and said, “Eh, I’m sure they’ll be able to fix the guy. A little water can’t do that much damage.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a small moment of silence, he kicked your shoe gently. “So what do you say? You’re still gonna do it, or no?”

A groan erupted from your chest, and you brought your hands down your face out of frustration. You really don’t want to do this, but a deal is a deal.

“Three months. I’m giving three months.”

“That’s my girl!”

***

You found yourself pacing around your apartment in the early morning. It has been about a week since you first spoke with LSM Inc. From this day forward for the next six months (or three months you hoped), Johnny would be shadowing you at all times. You were a nervous wreck since you didn’t know what to expect from living with a robot. What if he suddenly malfunctioned and they blamed it on you? You can’t handle this type of responsibility. Or what if he malfunctioned and started acting violently toward you?

“Snap out of it!” You whisper yelled at yourself, hitting your temple with your knuckles. You always tend to scare yourself when you’re nervous. Everyone you have spoken to about this matter has told you that you had nothing to worry about, so you made it your goal to not worry. But why is it so hard?

DING!

You swore your heart jumped out of your chest when your doorbell suddenly sounded throughout your home. As much as you wanted your heart rate to calm down, it only began to race faster the closer you got to your door. When your hand touched the gold knob, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then you finally opened the door.

Two identical men stood before you, flashing the same bright smile.

“Good morning to you!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully, to which you replied with a dazed “Morning,” before allowing them inside.

You eyed the two men as they entered your living room, confused as to why they were the only ones here. “Where is Mr. Kim?”

Youngho cocked an eyebrow before turning around to face you. “Who?”

“Your coworker. Doyoung, I believe his name is?” You answered.

“Oh!” He let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t have to call him that, it makes him sound old. And I’m older than him, so that kind of hurts my feelings.” He joked, but the only thing you could find yourself doing was nodding your head and looking away.

Sensing your discomfort, he cleared his throat before answering your question. “He’s busy back at the lab. I’m here to make sure John is all set before I leave him in your care.” You winced at his words. It only added to the overwhelming weight on your shoulders.

“Why do you ask? Did you grow fond of him already?” He slung his backpack from around his shoulder onto the floor. You peeked inside when he zipped it open, finding wires bunched inside.

“Uh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I just find it a bit overwhelming with only you two here.”

A smirk grew on his face. “So, you’re overwhelmed by my great looks huh?” He flipped his hair and shrugged as if it was inevitable to be starstruck by him.

“I look exactly like you,” Johnny spoke for the first time since entering your home.

You had to hold back a laugh at the sudden comment, and Youngho’s reaction didn’t make it any easier.

“So? You’re inspired by me, so therefore I take the credit of our looks!” He stuck his nose up in Johnny’s face. When the scientist turned back toward you, he realized you were holding back a laugh as your pursed your lips and looked away. “What? You find this funny?”

You put your hand up and shook your head. “No, no.”

Youngho was happy to find you in a better mood than when you first met. Sure, you’re still on the shy side, but at least you’re laughing instead of frowning like the first time. He heard that you weren’t exactly on board with working with LSM, so he made it his goal to have this be an enjoyable experience for you. He hopes that one day your negative opinions about AI’s would change. They’re as special to him as music is to you.

“I need to set up Johnny’s things. Is it okay if you tell me where he’s allowed to sleep?” Youngho asked.

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled expression finding its way on your face. “He sleeps?”

“Yeah!” Youngho nodded simply. “It’s like setting your computer on sleep mode. Machines need rest as much as we do. Johnny here is a hardworking man, he deserves to sleep.”

You supposed he was right. He might break easier if his gears were running constantly. Plus, he was made to function as a human, but you didn’t know that it was to this extent. To say the least, you were impressed at the attention to detail.

You motioned the two to your guest bedroom, and immediately Youngho got to work. Johnny stood next to you as the both of you spectated Youngho’s work, but you were shortly distracted by the robot.

You peered up at the tall machine with a curious gaze, and he turned to you with a kind smile.

“So, I’m not sure if this is an inappropriate question or not, but I’m curious.” Johnny nodded for you to go on. “Should I, like… talk to you like Siri? Or can I talk to you like a normal person?”

You were startled to hear Youngho’s loud snort in the corner of the room, but instead of him being the one to answer, Johnny did.

“You can talk to me like a normal person, don’t worry.” Johnny shook his head. “If it makes you comfortable, you can view me as a human if you’d like. I’m not that much different than you actually. We’re just wired differently.”

“Hey,” Youngho’s stern voice caught both of your attention. “Be proud of who you are, whether you are a human or robot. We’ve been through this John.”

Johnny nodded. “Right, right. My apologies.”

Youngho hated it when Johnny tried to tell others to view him as a human. Not because he believed that Johnny was trying to fool people, but because being a robot is his identity, and he should be proud of that. Sure, it’s not likely that Johnny could feel the feeling of pride, but Youngho could tell that Johnny was insecure. It worried him, but he didn’t want to tap into his database to change anything since he wants Johnny to be as authentic as possible. So for now, Youngho is keeping track of Johnny’s growth as an AI person.

Soon, Youngho was finished with setting up Johnny’s station. In the corner of the guestroom stood a white podium with a screen built in the middle of it. He let out a deep breath of satisfaction as he stepped back and dusted his hands off.

Before you could ask what it was, Youngho was already answering your unspoken question. “This is Johnny’s Communication Center. Every night he’ll have to transfer data from his system so that we’ll know what he’s been up to and see if he’s made any improvements. That’s if he’s not with me at the lab.” Suddenly, his face grew serious. “For legal reasons, I have to let you know that this station is strictly off-limits. There’s confidential information in here that belongs to LSM Inc.”

Even though you were curious, the last thing you wanted to do was get involved with the law, so you took note of his warning. Hopefully, it isn’t something regarding the invasion of privacy.

You shook your head before you could scare yourself even further. Positive thoughts. Think positive thoughts.

“Alright, on that note, I think my work here is done!” Youngho announced. “Can I talk with you in private?” He asked suddenly, pointing a finger at you.

“Me?” You had to double-check whether he was really talking to you or not. He chuckled as he nodded his head, confirming your wonders. “Oh, okay.”

You followed the man out of the room, leaving Johnny to check out the place he’ll be living in for the next few months.

After the two of you reached your living room, Youngho began to speak. “Hey, so, I really want to thank you for working with us on this project. I heard that you’re not the biggest fan of AI’s, so I was surprised to hear you signed the contract.”

You held back from rolling your eyes as the memories of your boss came up. “It’s not like I really had a choice.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

You tensed up when you realized what you just said. As much as you did not want to do this job, you made it your goal to remain as professional as possible for the sake of your reputation. After working in the entertainment industry for some years, you learned to keep your personal feelings apart from your job. If- no, when you do end up quitting the job after three months, at least LSM won’t be able to say anything negative about you.

Refraining from explaining yourself, you shook your head once more. “Nevermind what I said. Johnny will be safe in my care!”

Youngho pouted, his eyes scanning your face. He wanted you to elaborate, but he had no time to talk further. He needed to get back to the lab.

“Well, I hope so. Call me if you need anything. I need to get going.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to him before seeing him off. Your feet ended up taking you back to your guest bedroom, where you found Johnny sitting at the end of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him. You caught his attention after you cleared your throat, and instead of staring at you with that lifeless gaze, he smiled brightly.

You mustered up the courage to walk up to him, still stopping some feet away though. Crossing your arms, you tried to think of what to say. While you thought, he examined your face, trying his best to read your expression so he to could come up with something to talk about. The silence was awkward for you, but Johnny never sensed the discomfort. He was happy to be here with you. You are the gold coin on his road to success, so he decided to cherish you.

“So… it’s quite early and I usually don’t head to the studio until the evening. Is there anything you wanted to do?” You asked.

“There isn’t anything I can think of…” he shrugged his shoulders.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and your hand covered it as a reflex. You were so nervous this morning that you didn’t have much of an appetite, but hunger was catching up to you now.

“I didn’t have breakfast yet.” You laughed nervously. “Are you… able to eat anything?” You felt weird asking such a question since he’s a robot after all, but who knows what he can and cannot do? Technology is so advanced these days. Besides, isn’t he made to live like a human anyway?

In all truthfulness though, Johnny isn’t allowed to eat-- sometimes. In special cases, he can nibble on a snack, but eating a full course meal was a no-go. But Johnny was aware of your discomfort of being with him, and he was determined to make you feel the opposite. As long as he doesn’t clog his gears, taking the risk should be okay.

“I know of this breakfast house Youngho likes to go to every now and then. Do you want to go there?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion. You were more excited at the thought of being around others rather than eating. Being in the house alone with Johnny was really starting to suffocate you, and you needed out immediately. Maybe some fresh air and being surrounded by humans will make you feel somewhat better.

The two of you were quick to leave the apartment after you accepted the offer. Johnny led the way to the restaurant, and on your way, he let you know that it was not far from your home. Come to find out, it was within walking distance. You wondered how you never noticed the humble breakfast house, but after thinking about it for a while, you realized that you are always on the go. Ever since you moved to your apartment, you never took the time to stop and get to know your surroundings.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny’s question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh… nothing, just thinking.” Finally, you noticed that you were standing in front of the restaurant. “Let’s head inside.”

Surprisingly, Johnny was easy to talk to. Even though he had somewhat awkward responses to your questions, it was never boring or dry. You got to know about his life in the lab, and even how Youngho decided to grow his hair out because people mistook him for Johnny so many times. His story was so interesting, and it kept you on your toes, itching to hear more. It was beyond what you could ever imagine.

“So what is your goal?” You suddenly asked.

He tilted his head in curiosity. “Can you elaborate for me please?”

“You know, like what’s your goal as a singer? Or even just as a living being?”

He sat back in his seat as he pondered on the simple, yet deep question. It’s something he’s never had time to think about. Actually, it’s something he never considered thinking about. Ever since he was first powered up, he has always been working. But working towards what, is the question he began to ask himself.

“I… honestly don’t know.” He shook his head after moments of thinking.

“Really?” Your eyes grew wide at his response. “If that’s the case, then why do you expect to learn how to write music? You need to have some desire or passion to do so.”

He crossed his arm over his chest and rested his chin on his other hand. “I guess you’re right… But how do I find out what my goal is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What are you living for? What’s your purpose? You have to ask yourself these types of questions.”

It worried Johnny that he didn’t have a passion despite calling himself a music artist. But he knew he needed to figure it out fast because he really does want to be successful in this field. But is there anything really to work for being the person he is?

***

The next day, you were back at the lab for Johnny’s first checkup. The first night at the studio was not a success, which wasn’t surprising considering that he had nothing to write about. This was exactly what you were afraid of. No matter how busy he might be, he hasn’t gotten the real human experience, so what really can he write about? Hard drives and wires?

“Hey Babysitter!” Youngho greeted you cheerfully after spotting you and Johnny some feet away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Babysitter?”

“Yeah, you are taking care of my kid after all.” He laughed, ruffling Johnny’s hair, to which Johnny slapped his hand away. “How was the first day?”

You sighed deeply, thinking about yesterday’s events. “It went okay, but we made no progress in the studio.”

Youngho smacked his lips. “Well, that’s alright. We still have six months ahead of us. There’s still time left.”

“That’s true.” You nodded your head. “But on the bright side, Johnny treated me to the best breakfast I had in a while! So brownie points for that.”

Your words came out too fast for Johnny to stop you. He froze, his hand slapping his mouth in shock. He is dead meat.

“He didn’t eat with you, did he?” Youngho blinked at you. Sensing the tension in the air, you nodded slowly, but kept your mouth shut. “Oh my-” Youngho stepped back as if he was about to faint.

He clenched his fist against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. You felt like you did something wrong, but you just couldn’t figure out what. You were sure Johnny would tell you if you did.

“Johnny, just head to the back, okay?” Youngho said, his eyes still closed.

“Yes sir.” Johnny rushed away without another word.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You asked shyly.

“No you didn’t, don’t worry.” Youngho sighed. “He knows better. If he eats too much he could clog his gears. But mostly, I just hate cleaning him out, it’s so tedious!” He groaned at the thought of all the clumps of food he has to take out.

“Oh my gosh! I wouldn’t have let him if I have known!” You exclaimed.

Youngho shook his head. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. He seems to be functioning well, so he should be fine.”

You were worried at the thought of Johnny breaking while under your supervision. Imagine getting sued by a company that handles AI’s? Your life would be over! You can’t let that happen, you won’t allow it to happen.

“Is there any way for me to know if he’s okay or not? Like does he feel pain or no?” You asked. You needed to know just in case you had to rush back to the lab if anything happens. You’re not going to be the blame for anything.

“Yes, and no.” Youngho went on to explain. “He can feel you if you tap him on the shoulder, but if you punch him, it’ll still feel like a mere tap. But the only time he does feel pain is when something in his system malfunctions.” You tilted your head, still not catching on. He found your expression cute, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Just think about it: when you’re using your phone, it can feel your taps as you scroll. But if you drop it on the ground, you don’t hear it screaming out in pain.”

“Ah, I think I get it now!” You nodded your head fervently.

“Right! But we did program him to feel some type of pain just so we will know if something wrong is happening to the important parts.”

“That makes a lot of sense… Man, you guys really have it all laid out huh?” You couldn’t help but be impressed at the amount of thought that went into creating Johnny.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing much.” Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets as he shrugged nonchalantly. As laid back as he was acting, nothing could hide the blush that crept onto his face. He’s a sucker for people acknowledging his work.

“Well, as much as I want to argue with you about that, I have to get to my schedule! Kun is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep him waiting. I’ll be back soon!” You waved as you began to walk away.

Youngho waved back to you as he watched you exit the lab. He sighed to himself, not knowing what he was going to do with Johnny. But knowing that it is best to get the job done now rather than later, Youngho dragged his feet to the operation room where Johnny would be waiting.

Johnny tensed up once Youngho entered the room, and he avoided eye contact in hopes he wouldn’t blow up at him. Thankfully, Youngho didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Why did you do that?” The scientist asked simply.

“She was uncomfortable and hungry, so it was the only thing I could think of.” Johnny justified his past actions, but Youngho wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s just get this over with, and then we’ll check your data.” Youngho sighed as he started to prep for the cleanup.

“Wait, wait! I have a question.” Johnny stopped him. “Do you have a goal?”

Youngho was taken aback by the sudden question. “Yes… I think so? I guess it depends on what the goal is for.” He wasn’t very sure if he had a set goal, but he did know that he is satisfied where he is right at this moment. The only thing he is concerned about is making sure #S127 remains on the rise.

“Do you think… I’m able to have a goal?”

“You can have the goal of winning a Grammy!” Youngho suggested.

Johnny scoffed. “Well, yeah, but I’m talking about for myself. Am I able to find a goal or a passion at least for myself?”

Youngho blinked at his robot. He was at a loss for words. It seems like a simple yes or no question, but there are levels to it. The right answer to this question was up in the air somewhere, and Youngho was finding a hard time finding it. What in the world did you do to his bot?

“I’m sure you can if you put your mind to it,” Youngho answered. He grabbed his phone and began texting you, suggesting that the two of you grab coffee when you get back to the lab. He needed to talk to you to figure out the meaning behind Johnny’s words.

Some hours later, you were at a Starbucks near the lab sitting across from Youngho. You were nervous you did something bad after all, but you couldn’t get yourself to figure out what you’ve done. But thankfully, Johnny was the first to speak.

“So, Johnny asked me a question that kind of shocked me. I’m supposing you asked him the same question yesterday.” He began.

“What question are you talking about?” You asked.

“If he has a goal. He’s been thinking about it really hard.”

You felt as if a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You thought of something way worse, even though you talked to Johnny a handful of times yesterday, and the conversations the two of you had were never bad or questionable. Your nervousness always found a way to get to you still.

“Well yeah! He needs to have a passion in order to be a real artist. And to have a passion, he needs to have a goal.” You nodded.

“Are you sure he can have a passion? He’s a robot.”

You were surprised at his response. “Aren’t you the one who created him? I thought you would know this! Writing songs isn’t just jotting down words on a piece of paper you know. It’s much more to it than that.”

Youngho sighed. You’re right, and it bothered him. It’s not you that he’s bothered by, but the fact that he really doesn’t have everything figured out. He’s so used to being a genius and having questions answered before people could even ask them, but the fact that he doesn’t have an answer prepared for something as simple as this messed with his head. How did he expect to make a successful idol group if his idols can’t even write music on their own?

“I could always just give you a song to use.” You suggested.

“No, I don’t want that,” Youngho answered quickly. “We do that every comeback. We need to actually make some improvements.”

You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Youngho try to figure out what to do. You knew Johnny writing his own song was too good to be true, but you have to admit, there is a part of you that believes in him. If he can read and understand human emotion, there are chances for him to be able to write a decent song.

“What was your purpose in making Johnny and the other guys in the group?” You asked suddenly.

Youngho frowned at the memories that came up in his mind. “I actually didn’t create Johnny and the others to be idol singers.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the bombshell. “I actually intended for them to be soldiers.”

Your jaw dropped. You would have never thought of #S127 fighting in a war. It’s a complete 180 from what they are doing right now.

“What made you change your mind?!” To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He laughed. “The government rejected my offer, but they told me about LSM Inc. and now here I am. Lee Soo Man suggested that I use my bots to make an idol group, and I wanted nothing to do with it. But it was either I make a group, or be broke with robots that have no purpose.”

So he was in a similar situation that you’re in right now. It made you feel happy to see that he seems to enjoy his current circumstances, but still, you can’t get yourself to accept that you have to share competition with AIs who can’t even figure out how to write a song on their own. Despite that, you were growing fond of Johnny, and you wanted him to be able to find his passion. He’s the only AI you would allow to win.

“I would have never thought of Johnny being a soldier.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Considering that this is your current circumstance, you need to figure out if they’re able to create their own goals for themselves. I understand the base goal is to win awards at big music shows and hit the charts, but there needs to be a better foundation.”

Youngho couldn’t help but admire you as you gave your advice. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re thoughtful, and the more you spoke, the more it attracted him to you. Where were you when he needed you the most? The company has worked with so many different artists before you, but you’re the only one that is actually helping. He just wanted to take you into his arms and thank you repeatedly at this moment.

From here on out, Youngho was determined to find out what Johnny’s goal is. Whether it is impossible or not, he is going to make sure Johnny becomes the best songwriter there is.

***

The three months had gone by before you knew it, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to quit the job. Johnny and you had grown closer the more you worked together, and you enjoyed seeing his progress as he worked to become a better and more authentic writer. And Youngho and you also hit it off very well, becoming closer friends the more you talked. You also realized that you were catching feelings for the scientist, but you ignored it, believing that it was nothing but a simple crush. ‘It will pass overtime,’ you would tell yourself.

Kun on the other hand did nothing to remind you of the deal that you made with him since he knew you forgot about it. He enjoyed seeing you have fun made him happy, he never liked seeing you in a sour mood. He too has gotten close with Youngho as well after going out drinking with him and Doyoung several times. Just like tonight.

This time, you decided to join the guys tonight for drinks at the bar. Once you found out Kun was hanging out with the two scientists, you felt left out and invited yourself to the next outing. It wasn’t like they minded though since they love your company.

“So, I heard that you don’t really like AI’s Y/N. Can I ask you why that is?” Doyoung asked.

You poked your lip out as you thought. “Well, it’s mainly because nothing they do feels true to me. It’s all programmed. Not only that, but they’re slowly taking over our jobs. I’m not exactly comfortable with that.”

Youngho shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but that’s not necessarily true. AI’s, at least the ones we make at LSM, is made to function like humans. So everything they do is learned after we establish a little bit of a foundation we put in their program. And there are still significantly more humans who have jobs than AI’s, but I do get your concern.”

What he said had you thinking. You supposed he was right, but you still felt so odd about it. But you figured it’s just something that you’re going to have to learn to accept as time goes on. The only AI you trust is Johnny, and that’s all that matters to you right now.

“You might be right, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to them. I like Johnny at least.” You shrugged.

“And that’s all I need to hear.” Youngho smiled widely.

You giggled at his antics. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be back. Don’t buy any more drinks without me!”

“No promises!” Kun called after you, laughing afterward.

Youngho tapped his glass, trying to decide whether the question he has is worth asking or not. But he needed to muster up the courage since it’s an important question. For him at least.

“Hey, Kun, I have a question.” Youngho started.

“Hit me.” Kun nodded.

“Do you… like Y/N?”

Kun threw his head back in laughter. “What?! Where did that come from?”

Youngho could only scratch the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. He was embarrassed, but it’s something he has been wondering about forever now.

“He’s been waiting to ask that question for ages!” Doyoung exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop bugging me about it.”

“Well, to answer your question, no I don’t. She’s like a sister to me.” Kun shook his head simply. “You should ask her out on a date. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Youngho shook his head fervently. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not right now at least.”

“You never know until you do it.” Doyoung sing-songed. Kun couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, she’s coming back!” Youngho whisper yelled.

For the rest of the night, Youngho thought about you as the four of you enjoyed more drinks. He knew he had feelings for you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. For now, he just wanted to take more time to read your actions before he let you know of his feelings. He needs time to muster up the courage.

The four of you decided to end the night after realizing how tipsy you have gotten. Kun realized that you had a packed schedule the next day, so they needed to get you home immediately. He already knew you were going to regret it later on.

Kun had made sure you got up to your apartment safely. You stopped him at the door, saying that you could get in the house yourself, and just go home. He at least opened the door for you before leaving, hoping that you’ll get to bed right away rather than finding things to do around the house.

When you entered your home, you began to drag your feet toward your room, that was until Johnny stopped you in the hallway.

He leaned forward and sniffed. “Were you drinking?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I was.”

“You might want to get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” Johnny pouted at your condition. Looking at how you were, you for sure were going to experience a hand hangover in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” You waved him off. You stepped forward to start going to your room, but you paused and stepped back. You looked up at Johnny and sucked in a sharp breath as you thought. “You look a lot like Youngho.”

Johnny blinked, confused at the sudden revelation. “I am aware of that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you just saying that because you are Youngho? Are you trying to fool me?” You poked your finger into his chest.

“No…” Johnny wasn’t sure how to respond to your absurd words. He’s never been in this situation before.

“Well, Youngho, goodnight. I will see you tomorrow.” You smiled at him. Rather than leaving, you stood there, staring up at who you believed to be Youngho through your heavy eyelids. Suddenly you got on your toes and pecked his lips softly. “Rest well Youngho.”

Johnny stood in shock after you left to your room. What was he going to tell Youngho? He has never allowed this to happen before. The kiss was so unexpected that he couldn’t dodge it! He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble.

The next day, Johnny was at the lab for the daily check-in.

“How was the night at the Babysitter’s?” Youngho asked as he plugged Johnny’s chip into his computer to retrieve yesterday’s data.

“She kissed me.” Johnny found himself blurting.

“She what?!” Youngho squeaked.

“She kissed me.” He repeated.

Youngho couldn’t believe his ears. He shook his head, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Huh?!”

“She kissed me—“

“I heard you the first two times!” Youngho yelled.

Youngho suddenly turned around to his computer and rushed to retrieve any video data if there were any. And there was. The camera hidden behind Johnny’s eyes wasn’t always on, but they only started recording if Johnny felt that he needed to. Youngho played the video, nervous about what he’s about to see. But all that worry washed away after seeing your drunken smile. Seeing you kiss his robot amused him more than he thought, as he couldn’t help but snort and laugh hysterically at what he just watched. It was something he never thought he would see or even hear about.

“She thought I was you,” Johnny revealed, which shut Youngho’s laughter up.

“W-Wait, really?” He was shocked.

“Yeah. She kept calling me Youngho.” Johnny nodded. “I think she likes you.”

A blush crept up Youngho’s neck, and he couldn’t hold back the grin on his face. Knowing that you had the same feelings he currently has sent him over the moon. He just wished you kissed him rather than his lookalike.

Youngho waited until the evening to talk to you so that you were free from all your schedules. The two of you spoke at the convenience store near your apartment, enjoying a canned beverage.

“So… Johnny found out what his goal is,” Youngho revealed.

You gasped, clapping your hand over your mouth. “For real? What is it?” You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t know what it was first since you’re the one that is with him most of the time, but you could care less since the whole point is that he knows what he’s working for now.

“Well, his goal is to gain more of a human understanding. He wants to be able to truly write a song. And he found a passion in… people, to simply put it.” Youngho chuckled. “He talks more and asks more questions than he has ever had before.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad, I was really rooting for him.” You cooed.

“I just want to thank you so much. He has been making so much improvement since he started working with you. You really helped us out. You helped him out.” Youngho smiled softly.

“Oh it’s no biggie. I’m glad I was of some help.” You laughed. “He’s the one who did most of the work, so the credit should go to him.”

“I’m supposing that’s why you kissed him then? Because you’re proud of him?” Youngho asked suddenly, a playful smirk on his face.

“What?” Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I kissed him?”

Youngho’s cackles filled the air. “You don’t remember? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t since you were so drunk last night. Johnny told me you thought he was I, and you kissed him.”

Your fingertips touched your lips after the memories started coming back to you. “Oh my gosh!” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “This is so embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Actually, I’m quite flattered.” Youngho reassured you. “Just be sure to kiss me next time.”

You brought your hands down from your face so you could get a good look at his expression. You had to figure out whether he was joking or not.

And to answer your unspoken question, he cupped your cheek with his hand and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Please tell me this feeling is mutual.” You whispered.

Youngho chuckled, poking your nose as he sat back in his seat.

“Don’t worry. I want you to be mine as much as you want me to be yours. You have me baby.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #johnny suh #johnny #nct u #nct imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny scenarios #johnny drabbles #johnny seo #johnny fluff

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

berry hill.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: i am so excited to share this one with you. the tropes are PACKED in here, and it was a blast to write. i also realized some time ago that i keep forgetting summaries on my works, so i’m gonna do my best to add those from now on. as always, let me know if there are any mistakes in here! thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster for helping me today <3 intended for the ‘a joyful future universe,’ but does not require context. takes place in 2011, early season six, prior to the valhalla arc. words: 12k warnings: language, some vague mention of aaron’s anatomy, alcohol use, when i say slow burn i mean s l o w burn.

summary: "...and there was only one bed." - old fanfiction proverb

waldosia (part 2) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed! updated: january 5th, 2021

It’s way too late and you know it, but Jack is still on his annual winter vacation with Aunt Jess and the rest of the Brooks clan, so there’s simply no incentive to leave. You’re with Hotch at his desk, kicked back like you own the place, while he sits back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

The Montana case wrapped up neatly, and any remaining or incoming paperwork this week is light. Though it is admittedly weird without JJ, Seaver seems to be settling in alright. You’re glad that the team decided to take a chance on her like they did with you.

“What do you mean he drew on the wall?” You say through a laugh, popping a grape in your mouth. “Are we talking like a crayon mark here and there or a full-on mural.”

“Multi-media mural - glue, paper mache, markers, crayons, you name it and it was there.” He laughs and he takes a grape from your bowl, kicking his feet up on the desk - mirroring you. “I have no idea how he managed it. I was in the house the whole time.”

“Oh my God, he’s a terror!” Before Aaron can agree, your phone starts ringing. You pick it up, smiling as you see the caller ID.

“Hey Dean!” You stand and give Aaron a ‘sorry, just a second’ finger and step out of the office, leaving the door open behind you. You stay where Aaron can see you, leaning on the rail next to the stairs. You don’t really mean to stay within his eyeline, but it’s habit at this point.

“Hey babe, I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“Oh not at all. I’m still in the office with Hotch getting some work done.”

You catch Hotch’s eye and he mouths ‘Work?’ and you shrug as if to say ‘It’s a loose term.’ He rolls his eyes and steals another one of your grapes.

“Ah, I see. Late-night work with the hot boss-man.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. “So what’s up?”

He sighs, and you already know what’s coming before he says it. “Something came up at work and I won’t be able to make it to the wedding next week. We’re closing on this huge property in Georgetown and it’s really big for the firm and -“

“It’s okay. I get work stuff, trust me.” And you do. It just fucking sucks.

“I’m so so sorry to leave you hanging. I know it’s going to be super rough. Maybe one of your work friends can go with you? Maybe boss man? His name’s Aaron, right? Hopscotch or something?” His humor doesn’t make you feel any better, but you promise to keep ‘Hopscotch’ for later.

You tip your head up to stare at the ceiling and will the tears away from your eyes, blinking them back. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. None of them knew to ask off work, so if we have a case I’ll be on my own regardless.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Two tears fall out of the corner of your eyes, and you turn around, wiping them away. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll call you day-of to check in, okay?”

Hotch watches you carefully, doing your best to hide your tears from him. Bad news, certainly, but he wishes you wouldn’t hide from him like you do. Or rather, he wishes you wouldn’t try to hide from him like you do.

He can’t hear the entire conversation, obviously, but he resolves to do what he can to return at least a little of the care you always show him without hesitation,

“Okay.” You heave an uneven sigh. “I’ll talk to you then... Really - don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” You hang up before he can respond and rest your forearms on the railing. You let your head hang for a second, collecting yourself before you have to face Hotch again.

You take a deep breath and turn, sitting across from him again. Attempting to restore your good spirits, you kick your feet back up and have another grape.

Hotch’s voice is quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” but your voice breaks. You clear your throat and blink a few more times.

You can feel him squint at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you know.” You sniff, and gesture vaguely as you continue. “My best friend from college was supposed to be my date to a friend’s wedding next week, and the friend getting married also happens to be someone I dated in college so I was really hoping Dean could come with me, and now…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

He’s quiet for a little while, and you shove some more grapes in your mouth to make up for the silence. You know each other so well, but it still feels a little weird to explicitly talk about your personal life in the office. Sure, you spend a fair few weekends together with Jack, but the whole thing is a little embarrassing - and you’re not sure if the worst part is admitting you have an ex-boyfriend from college or you now have to go stag to his wedding.

“Do you want someone to go with you?” He watches you chew on your lower lip. A long time ago, he decided there was nothing worse than seeing you upset.

This is the least you can do, Hotchner. First personal weekend in nearly four years, you can at least do what you can to make it suck less. He reasons with himself, but he can’t help the sly thought that sneaks in on the tail end. Being a backup is better than being nothing at all.

That’s enough.

You scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

He smiles a little, knowing you completely missed his point. “If you wanted…” He clears his throat and looks out the window, and you reply before he can continue.

“Oh, God, Hotch.” You cover your face with your hands. “Please don’t feel like I’m trying to guilt you into anything. I’ll be fine.” You try to laugh it off, but can’t hide the anxiety in your voice.

His laugh warms you. “You’re not guilting me into anything. I’m offering.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. There’s an earnest sort of kindness in his eyes, and you find yourself a little short of breath. “Really?”

“Really. I can get the weekend off - things are pretty slow around here. Where is it?” You had trouble reading his tone. Really, he’s just treading carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured, or give away his own selfish motivations.

“It’s, ah,” you stutter for a second, getting your metaphorical feet back under you. “It’s down at Berry Hill Resort, right by the North Carolina border.” Your lip disappears between your teeth again. “It’s about a three and a half hour drive.”

He opens his phone, and you know he’s checking the map. “It’d be easy enough if we left early and switched in Richmond. I’ll start, if you’d like.”

You smile at him, wide and genuine. “Hotch, you’re the best.”

+++

Hotch calls you up to his office, and you swing in, your hand gripping the doorframe. You bite back your greeting as you find him on the phone.

He beckons you in and you step inside, closing the door behind you.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that along to the rest of the unit...You too, sir.” He hangs up and laces his fingers, addressing you. “Question.”

You sit, resting your elbows on his desk. “Answer.”

“Funny.”

You smirk, and he continues. “I’m not sure if it matters to you, but I have an absurd number of ties. Color preference?”

A huff of laughter leaves you in disbelief. “You called me in here to ask whether or not I want to have a color scheme?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A united front, or at least a coordinated one, seems like the best strategy, right?”

+++

Aaron walks down from his office, his phone to his ear. You’re helping Ashley with a consult, walking her through your process just like Emily used to do with you.

“Hotch usually likes to approach the profile starting with a demographic consideration, but I usually start from physical evidence and -”

A hand falls onto your shoulder, and you look up. “Yeah?”

He pulls the receiver away from his mouth. “Jack wants to talk to you.”

With a shake of your head and a fond smile for Hotch and an apologetic one for Ashley, you put the phone to your ear. “Hey, bud! How’s Grandpa’s house?”

“So fun,” Jack says, almost yelling into the phone. “Aunt Jess has let me play in the snow every day.”

You laugh. “I am so glad.”

“Dad says you’re busy at work, but I miss you.”

“Aw, bubba, I miss you, too. You’ll be home really soon, and when you get back we’ll go out to ice cream and you can tell me all about your visit.” You, for just a moment, forget where you are, and you lean back in your seat as if you’re leaning into Jack himself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you.”

Your breath catches, and you keep our eyes firmly planted on your consult as you reply. “I love you too, bub. Here’s your dad.” Placing the phone in Hotch’s hand, you return your attention to Ashley and do your best not to acknowledge Aaron as he walks back up the stairs. “So, like I said, Hotch prefers to -”

“Hey.” Ashley stops you with a hand on your arm. “You’re really good at your job.”

A confused smile pulls at your lips. There’s a question in your eyes, and she answers it.

“Oh, I just...You’re a good teacher and a good friend, that’s all.”

“Thanks, Seaver.”

+++

On a rare weeknight off, Emily and you gather at Penelope’s apartment. You’re all sitting on the floor, bottles of wine making an occasional rotation, and a pile of snacks on the floor taking up the space in the loose circle you’ve created.

“You’re taking time off this weekend?” Penelope sounds almost insultingly surprised, as if the concept never occurred to her.

You nod. “Yep. First time in four years, so I think I’m about due.”

Emily laughs and asks. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve been inexplicably invited to an ex-boyfriends wedding - he’s a friend from college and we were friends before we dated etc. etc.” You wave your hand as you speak, outlining the tedium of it all. “His mom loves me, and I suspect she was the one who added me to the list.”

“Are you going with anyone? Penelope’s concern is touching.

“Yeah. One of my college friends was supposed to be my date, but he bailed for a work thing.” All the girls roll their eyes and nod. They get it. “So, Ho - someone else - is going with me.”

“Who?” Emily narrows her eyes and searches you.

“Oh come on, profiling is against the rules.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

“Spill it.” Penelope throws a goldfish cracker at you to emphasize her point.

You take a deep, long-suffering breath, suddenly missing JJ and her powers of redirection. “Fine. Hotch is coming with me -” you intercept their eager questions “- only as a favor.”

“That’s very...thoughtful of him.” Emily’s chin tips up suggestively, and you throw Penelope’s goldfish at her. “Who’s idea was that?”

There’s a moment here somewhere, where you realize you’ve just dug yourself a hole you’ll be hard-pressed to get out of. “He overheard Dean bail, and offered. I’m sure he’s just doing it because he feels bad and -”

“Oh, don’t be stupid!” Penelope nearly falls into Emily, giggling. “I can’t believe you two.”

You throw your hands in the air. “What?”

Both women share a look before looking back at you with identical disbelief. Emily speaks first. “You can’t be serious.”

Take a deep breath. You’re not that obvious.

Maybe you are. You’ve only been half-or-completely in love with him for five years.

Shut up.

“Serious about what?”

Emily rolls her eyes and finishes her second glass of wine, reaching to refill it immediately. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

+++

You’re finishing your last bit of packing, leaving your toothbrush and toothpaste out for the morning, when your phone rings.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron.”

“Ah, my saving grace,” you say with a laugh. “Calling to cancel on me, after all?”

His laugh just isn’t as good over the phone, but it’ll do. “Not even close. Is 6am still good to come get you?”

“It’s so early.” There’s absolutely no shame in your whine, and you’re rewarded with another laugh. “But yes, that’s fine. That gives us enough time even if we hit some traffic out of the District and into Richmond.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You look at your suitcase, resting open on your bed. “You’re still okay with this, right? I know I couldn’t grab that extra hotel room for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured or -”

He cuts you off, calling you out by name. “Enough. I offered, remember? I’ll see you at 6. Bring a pillow so you can sleep in the car.”

Your lips pinch, holding back a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.” And he knows you don’t just mean it for the pillow reminder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course. Sleep well.”

You don’t, but are nevertheless ready with bells on, pillow tucked under your arm, and coffee in-hand at 5:55am the following morning. He looks surprised when he pulls into the driveway and sees you standing on your porch, looking only a little worse for wear. At least your teeth are brushed.

“Thought you might want this.” You hold out the travel mug to him as he approaches, and he takes it (and your suitcase) from you.

“Thank you. Jump in.”

You follow instructions and immediately stuff your pillow between your head and the window as he throws your suitcase in the trunk. You’re forever grateful Aaron drives the same SUVs you all have at the bureau. He claims it’s easier to not think about different car specs, but at this moment you only care about the temperature control and familiar, soft leather seats. Your eyes shut on their own accord, still heavy even after your abbreviated morning routine.

He slips into the driver’s seat and, with your eyes closed, you miss the way he looks over at you with a barely-there, fond smile. Your sweatshirt is too big for you and your face is adorably smushed into the pillow.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he places his hand on the back of your seat, backs out of the driveway, and gets on the road.

The silence gives him plenty of time to think about things he’d rather not address. This favor, for one, is something he’s still trying to reconcile.

Would I have offered to Emily? JJ? Hell, Dave?

If any other member of the team had a friend bail out of their role as a wedding date, he’d like to think he’d drop everything and take the weekend to make them feel better, but he knows that probably wouldn’t be the case in reality. He knew you were different, and it frustrated and confused him.

As often as he acknowledges his love for you - he wishes it would just stop.

Only a year and change had passed since Haley’s death, and there were still some mornings where he woke up and couldn’t breathe. Jack still had some nightmares too. Those broke his heart more than anything in the world, but he knew you would always pick up if he called - no matter the hour.

It happened more often than he’d like to admit.

“Hotch? Aaron? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

You’d always talk to him about something or nothing at all, sometimes turning on your bedside lamp and reading from whatever book you were perusing before bed.

He knows you understand. You were the only one there with him, when he found her body. You were there to take his son out of his bloodied hands. You were there when he was afraid of himself.

The nightmares still come for you, too, sometimes. There are nights where Haley’s dark blue eyes stare into you, whether your eyes are open or closed. You told him that, once, and he was grateful - grateful that he wasn’t the only one.

You murmur something in your sleep, about twenty minutes outside of the city. You’re still an hour or more away from Richmond, and Hotch figures he’ll let you sleep if you don’t wake up between now and then. It’s not a hard drive to Berry Hill, and you need the rest.

Might be good to pick up some food on the way...

He turns the music off, letting the sounds of your breathing and the road wash over him.

“Aaron.”

He turns, expecting your watchful eyes, but finds you burrowing further into the pillow, a little smile on your face as you remain blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Something warm starts to radiate in his chest as he looks back out at the road, the Virginia countryside stretching out in front of him, around him, and in every direction he can see. The warmth vibrates into his fingertips. He flexes his hands around the wheel, trying to shake it.

He fails.

You’re not sure how you manage to sleep so soundly in the car. You had tossed and turned all night, thinking only of facing a part of your life you hoped you’d never address head-on ever again. Why you accepted the invitation at all (or why you even received one) was beyond you.

It must be his mother’s doing. She always loved you, and she did her best to keep your friendship alive much longer than its natural death.

Exercising control over her child’s life due to an exceptional lack of control and consistency during her upbringing. Relating to her son’s partners to achieve some semblance of intimacy without facing the root of her insecurity that she’s failed as a parent.

The profiling never stopped, it seemed.

It wasn’t just the wedding keeping you up last night. The thought of spending the weekend with Aaron in an environment where you will inevitably feel (if not look and act) distraught close to the whole time still wears on you. Spending weekends at home, where you sit together with a glass of wine and leftover popcorn after Jack gets tucked in feels different.

That’s comfortable. That’s safe. This? This is scary. Vulnerable. Burdensome.

Even then, there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side while you face friends you haven’t seen in ages. He’s charismatic, almost entirely unapproachable (when he wants to be), and tall. All those factors should be enough to keep anyone from trifling with you for the duration of the weekend.

But now, in the car, all those thoughts are far from your mind. Your mind is blissfully dark and blank, your body soothed by the low hum of the car and the smell that follows Hotch wherever he goes - spicy, earthy, and something that reminds you of the air right before lightning strikes.

The car slows, and the subtle change in ambiance wakes you. You lift your head, finding Hotch turning on an offramp.

“Are we in Richmond already?” You ask, bleary.

He smiles. His sunglasses are resting on his nose to combat the rapidly-rising morning sun. “Not yet, but I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

You tip your head. He’s right. “I could eat.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You should eat.”

+++

After food and a top-off for the gas tank, you offer to drive.

Aaron refuses. “If you drive, I don’t get to pick the music.”

“I thought shotgun picks the music.” You frown at him, admittedly still a little tired. You’ve shoved your pillow behind your seat and start to sit like an actual human being for the first time that morning.

“Those are Morgan’s house rules, not mine.”

“Ah,” you say, sagely. “I see. What are your house rules?”

There’s a smile behind his sunglasses. “Driver picks the music and critically considers any suggestions made by shotgun.”

Thus, the Beatles’ White Album starts from the top. You can’t say you’re surprised - it is his favorite. You’ve grown rather fond of it yourself, if you’re honest, Though, you’re not sure if you fondness for the album has anything to do with the man beside you - the one who’s hair is soft and floppy in the morning light, the one wearing an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt, the one singing along under his breath.

“Why is this one your favorite?” You hear yourself ask.

He’s quiet for a minute, as if you are the first to ask that question. Maybe you are. “I’m...not sure. I think it might have something to do with my mom. She bought the record a couple of weeks after I was born in late ‘68, and made sure I had a copy when I got my own record player in my first college apartment.” He shrugs. “It’s been around just as long as I have, and there’s something a little - I don’t know - comforting about that?”

You nod. “I get that.” You’re quiet for a moment, considering all the things that happened in 1982. “Grease 2 came out the year I was born, so I can’t say I share a similar affinity for the pop culture phenomena of my birth year.”

Hotch lets out a low whistle and a grimace. “That film really was awful.” He waits for your laugh and is rewarded before continuing. “I saw The Who on their final tour that year.”

You furrow your brow. “Weren’t you like, barely in high school?”

He nods. “We snuck out, a couple of friends and me. It was really stupid and we got in a lot of trouble, but it was fun.” There’s a nostalgic smile on his face. “I have no idea how we managed to get all the way into the District, let alone find tickets, but everything was a little less complicated back then. Buses ran on time, people read maps, and parents didn’t all have cell phones.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk. “But of course, that’s before your time.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m not that young. I remember the world before the mainstream internet and 9/11 and all that pre-Patriot Act shit. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, at least.”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough.”

You lapse into silence for a little while, handing him fries from the drive-thru bag when he puts his open palm over the center console. You notice his left hand shift slightly in time with the music, and you watch a little more carefully.

And I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know why Nobody told you How to unfold your love I don’t know how Someone controlled you They bought and sold you…

“Hotch, do you play guitar?” There’s a touch of disbelief in your tone, but you try to hide it for the sake of his pride. It’s not that you think he doesn’t have a musical or creative bone in his body, but you’re rather surprised by the relaxed subtlety of his movement. It was your impression he never did anything without thinking about it, and to see the slight, almost unconscious action sparks a pleasant little flicker of warmth in your chest.

He shrugs. “I played a little when I was younger. I guess you could say I know how to play, but I don’t claim to be decent at it in the slightest.” His head tips, and you could swear you see an eye roll. “Sean’s always been better at those kinds of pursuits.”

As usual, he doesn’t seem thrown or surprised by your question and doesn’t hesitate to answer them. After almost five years, he’s used to your keen observations. He’d never admit it, but he expects them - maybe he’s not able to guess at the content of the questions themselves, but he always knows there will be one eventually.

“Have you and Sean always butted heads?”

Aaron snorts, and gives you a simple, “Yes.”

You’d never met the younger Hotchner, but you’d seen photos and heard tell. From what you understand, he’s a little wilder than his older brother, a little more idealistic and far less practical. Sean seems like someone you would like, but you doubt he would rise to the top of your Favorite Hotchners List - a list with only two names so far, tied for first.

It’s safe to say Jack and Aaron are hard acts to follow.

+++

You talk about everything and nothing, when finally, he asks. “So, who is this guy?”

“Ugh.” You tip your head against the seat. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. Isn’t it protocol to brief the team before arrival?”

You snort, immediately regretting your decision to make fun of Strauss over drinks last week. “Yes, sir.”

He laughs, and you tell him.

You tell him about Austin and how you met in a random general education class and became fast friends and started dating, talked about marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. You told him about your semester abroad, your traveling, and returning home to find he’d been dating someone else while you were away, without your knowledge.

“It’s kind of cliche, I know, but it broke my heart in half.” You laugh a little to cover the truth of it. Hotch keeps his eyes on the road, letting you go at your own pace the same way you let him the entire time he’s known you. “I was really close to his family, and we did our best to remain civil and friendly for everyone else’s sake, but we’ve only kept in touch through other people the last few years.

“I think his mom sent the invitation. I mostly accepted because I’d love to see her and Austin’s little sister - I miss them the most.”

“What are they like?”

There’s a smile on your face as you tell him about them - how Allison likes more cream than actual coffee in her mug, how their mom has the best taste in books and still sends you worn copies of her favorites every once and awhile.

“It’s good of you to keep in touch.”

You shrug. “I guess. I mean, I know it’s different, but you have Jess.”

The difference, he decides, is that you are kinder, more patient than he is. Jess would hardly be in his life at all if Haley was still here. He had a hard enough time keeping up with Haley’s family when they were married. Keeping up with them after the divorce?

There was no way to know, but he can’t remember much affection between them even before Haley’s father decided to hold him personally responsible for her death.

You notice his preoccupation, and reach out. Your thumb traces back and forth over the skin of his bare forearm. “It’s different now, and it would be different then. There’s no right way to do anything.”

He exhales in a huff, and you bring your hand back into your lap. “I spent almost twenty-five years knowing Haley. You know that?”

“I do. I also know you spent longer than twenty-five loving her, and probably won’t ever stop.”

There’s a sigh, and then an elbow on the center console. He leans heavily on it, and you do your best to keep your hands to yourself. “How do you know everything?” He asks.

You rest your head against the seat and adjust so your body is angled toward him. A small smile crosses your face as you take in his profile - relaxed, his wrist hanging loosely on the wheel, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I dunno. I guess I just pay attention.”

+++

You let out an exhausted exhale upon reaching the room you will share with Aaron for the weekend. One king size bed dominates the room, instead of the two doubles you halfway expected. He recovers faster than you do, shrugging and setting his things down on the left side of the bed, closest to the door.

Instinctively and completely without previous confirmation, you kind of figured he sleeps on the left side. The realization of that fact is a little unsettling, but you follow his lead and set your suitcase on the stand opposite his, unzipping it and unfolding your garment bag.

There’s a small part of you that’s pleased by this arrangement. Another part of you shames that part.

He’s going to think you’re taking advantage of him.

Are you kidding? He’s a SWAT-trained senior FBI agent. And a lawyer. It’s impossible to take advantage of him.

Yeah, of course that’s what he wants you to think.

Do you ever shut up?

Your outfits for the cocktail hour and the ceremony day are all set. So are Hotch’s, apparently. You look over to find him hanging a grey pinstripe suit in the closet you’d never seen before. It looks beautifully tailored, and expensive.

“Mind if I take up some real estate?” You ask, holding up your handful of hangers. He shakes his head and makes some space for you.

When you’re all settled, you sit on the bed, still tired. It doesn’t make any sense, seeing as Aaron insisted on driving the entire way.

“What time is our first obligation?”

You huff a laugh at his rhetoric. “5pm. Cocktails at the hotel bar. Rehearsal dinner after that is wedding-party-only, thank God.” Glancing at the clock, you confirm, “We basically have the day to ourselves until then.”

He nods thoughtfully before meeting your eyes over your shoulder. “How do you feel about a nap?”

I love you.

Shut up.

You can’t imagine how tired he is - working off minimal sleep and coming off a drive just shy of four hours long. “I feel great about a nap.”

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he picks up a pair of flannel pajama pants from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

You quickly shuck your sweatshirt, suddenly too warm. Standing, you cross to the window and draw the blinds, covering the room in a kind of gentle shade that isn’t quite darkness. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers, thankful you never really changed out of your pajamas. Curling up facing the bathroom door, you try to stay awake until Hotch returns, but your eyes close of their own accord.

Hotch leaves the bathroom to find the room darkened and you under the covers, dead to the world. He takes another moment to look at you, the way your brow sits smooth and relaxed above your closed eyes, your hands curled loosely in front of your face, the way your breath evenly comes and goes past the curve of your lips.

Taking the risk, he places his jeans back into his duffle bag and gingerly stretches out on top of the covers beside you. His eyes close eventually, but he can’t remember falling asleep - entirely preoccupied by the phenomenon before him.

+++

When you stir again, your hands are warm. You take a deep breath and your eyes crack open, finding a sight that steals your breath. Hotch is on his side in front of you, ramrod straight, with your hands clasped between his. Your heads are bowed together - not touching, but close.

There’s no memory of him joining you in the massive bed, nor any recollection of contact, so he either held your hands on his own, or you found each other in sleep.

You’re not sure which one makes your heart flutter faster.

Resolving to get a little more sleep, you close your eyes. Only moments later, you feel him stir beside you. You know he’s watching you, and you endeavor to keep your breath even and slow, hoping he can’t hear the racing of your heart.

He releases one of your hands, and you let it drop down to the cover, praying your fingers don’t twitch.

You’re proud of yourself when you don’t flinch as his fingers brush butterfly-soft against your cheek, tracing from your brow bone, down your nose and across your lips. Impossibly gentle touches find their way down your temple to your jaw before disappearing.

His hand closes around yours again and it takes everything you have to keep your breath steady as he presses his lips to your fingers before tucking them back to his chest. When his breath evens out again, you know he’s asleep.

You open your eyes, thinking it's more than high time to study him for a change.

He looks years younger in his sleep, closer to your age than his. Even awake, he hardly looks the picture of a father in his mid-forties. His graceful aging is more obvious when his face isn’t drawn up in stress or that aching kind of sadness that lingers around him.

Curious about what he saw and felt on your face, you follow his path, slipping your hand out from under his, tracing his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his handsome, straight nose.

Your finger rests lightly on his cupid’s bow for a moment, his breath rushing slow and warm over your hand. The feeling of his breath stalls yours, and you swallow. The next breath you take is almost a sob, and you press your lips into a thin line. Light fingers brush through the hair at his temples, the sparse, soft silver strands seeming to glow in the low light.

What you don’t know, however, is that he has taken a page out of your book. Though his eyes are closed and his breath even, he is very much awake, heart pounding. He’s sure you can hear it, or even feel it, with your remaining hand still trapped between his.

The catch in your breath makes his chest ache. Even then, his eyes remain closed, and he’s mindful of his breath. With the route you take, tracing his features, he realizes with a shock of adrenaline and cold panic that you were probably awake, playing at sleep then as he was now.

If that was the case, you know how he feels about you. He knows how you feel about him.

But you can’t. You don’t want to take up space in his life he doesn’t have, space better used to heal, space reserved for his son.

He can’t. It's too soon. He can’t subject you to the ghosts, the baggage, the long journey to wholeness he’s endeavored to embark upon with only his son at his side.

The new normal, his therapist had told him, is the hardest thing to find.

He was sure, then, that it would be easier to find the new normal on his own, but he wasn’t so sure, now.

You slip your hands away from him entirely and roll over, making play at rising. You check the time on your phone, finding the early afternoon awaiting you.

There’s a deep breath and a stretching noise, and you turn to find Aaron rolled over on his back, his hands laced behind his head.

“Good afternoon,” you say, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding normal.

A smile plays at his lips. He looks like he knows something. “Good afternoon.”

“So, tonight.” You decide it’s best to move on before anyone admits anything they don’t mean to share. “Do you just want to be ‘work friends’ or do we want to lean into the whole ‘let’s ruin Austin’s life’ thing?”

He laughs a little. “I’m comfortable leaning in if you are.”

+++

The cocktail hour isn’t as horrible as you thought it would be. Aaron sticks to your side like glue, your right hand firmly placed in the crook of his arm while your left babysits a small glass of wine, more for show than for anything else.

You hear your name from across the room, and you see a huddle of some old friends and their respective dates. Aaron tips his head down to get the briefing, and you tell him names, relationships, and brief histories as you approach.

As you expected, he’s warm and charming, taking cues from you as you navigate eight years of catch-up with classmates you remember well and alleged classmates you don’t recognize at all.

“How did you two meet?” The woman asks (You’re certain she’s someone’s sister - Hotch caught her name while you missed it. Oops.).

You glance up at Aaron for a second before answering. “We’re in the same department at work.”

The man with her takes a sip of his drink. Him, you kind of recognize. Casey? Carson? Maybe. “Where is that, again? I can’t remember where you landed after your internship.”

“DoJ, in Quantico.”

Leslie, who you met in guided research your senior year, rolls her eyes. “They work for the FBI, Carson, keep up.”

Carson, that’s it.

“No shit!”

A small group has gathered around you, and you shuffle closer to Aaron. He wraps his arm around your waist and steps a little behind you, protective and secure.

“Shit,” you reply, jostling Aaron with your shoulder. “We don’t have our creds on us tonight, so if you get arrested you’ll have to bail yourselves out.”

“We also don’t have jurisdiction even if we did, so keep it high and tight and we’ll all do just fine.” Aaron’s voice rumbles through you with a laugh, and you take an overlarge sip of wine.

He really shouldn’t say things like high and tight with his hand where it is.

And his hand isn’t really in any kind of questionable location, just resting above your hip with his chest to your back, but it's still more contact than you’re used to. He wasn’t joking about leaning in.

“There he is!” Carson crows, and your head whips around. You almost lose your balance, but Hotch keeps his feet. A warm hand presses to your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whisper. You know he can hear you, and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Always.”

It’s just an act. He doesn't mean it. He can’t mean it.

Austin approaches with his drop-dead gorgeous fiancee and a smile.

Aaron releases you as Austin gives you a warmer hug than you were expecting, and examines Hotch over your shoulder. He introduces you to his fiancee (Madeline), and you introduce them both to Aaron.

“Austin, this is my…” you pause, realizing you never actually established a cover story, letting the implication speak for itself. “Aaron.” You recover with a light laugh, and Aaron pulls you to him with one hand while he shakes Austin’s with the other.

You try not to smirk at the grimace that flashes across Austin’s face when Aaron’s hand closes around his in a very firm and assertive handshake. “Pleasure. Congratulations.”

Austin laughs, a little uncomfortable, and stretches his hand once it reaches his side again. “Thanks. We’re really glad you both could make it. Mom will be really happy to see you.”

+++

“That could have been so much worse.” You shuck Aaron’s blazer off your shoulders and hang it in the closet as he passes behind you. He’d passed it to you when you shivered slightly at the bar and it wasn’t even a point of conversation. It had been second nature to him, draping it over you and placing a hand on your back. The memory pulls a smile from your lips. “Thank you for enduring the mayhem down there.”

Aaron sits on the bed and slips off his boots. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a social event that didn’t directly affect my career trajectory.” He looks up at you, and his grin makes your heart skip around in your chest.

You shake your head, walking past him to retrieve your pajamas and toothbrush. “Do you ever want to move up the chain at all?”

“Not really. Something big would have to change to get me to leave the BAU.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “We tried that, remember?”

“I do, actually.” At his chuckle, you continue. “I can’t say that’s something I’d like to relive anytime soon.”

You move easily around each other, changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth and getting otherwise ready for bed. He’s cute at night, with his pajamas and floppy hair and big yawns. It’s not like you haven’t seen this side of him before, what with all the late nights watching movies with Jack, but it is significant that it’s just the two of you. He’s not Jack’s Dad right now, or Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner who won’t go to bed until The Case Is Solved, but Aaron.

Sleepy, charming, funny Aaron.

Eventually, you throw back the covers and crawl in without thinking about it too much, while Aaron lingers in the bathroom doorway.

“I really can take the couch.”

You look at him and pointedly turn off the lamp resting on your side table. “We’re adults. I don’t mind it if you don’t. And for that matter, if either one of us is sleeping on the couch it’s me.”

“Oh?” He asks. “Why’s that?”

“Because as you so astutely pointed out earlier, I am significantly younger than you, and I think my back will fare better than yours after a night of lumpy cushions.”

The bathroom light flips off, and you hear a scoff in the dark. “Never once did I say significantly younger.”

“Well, Aaron, ‘before your time’ is rife with implication.”

The mattress dips beside you, and his form takes shape in the darkness, facing you. Before he can speak again, you cut him off.

“You know what? Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to, and I would hate for you to go full-tilt lawyer on me.” You curl up, bringing the covers to your chin. He laughs, and you can almost pretend that this is your life, that you get to fall asleep beside Aaron every night.

Don’t get comfortable.

Why not? He’s here, isn’t he?

He is, but not like that. This is a favor for a friend, nothing more.

You’re both quiet for a little while, listening to each other breathe in the dark. There’s a sigh, and you belatedly realize it came from you.

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice floats to you in the dark, and you nod. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

You think for a moment, trying to articulate your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re here with me this weekend.” A hand reaches out, and you find it.

“Of course. I’m glad I can be here for you.” He means it. The trust you’ve placed in him does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Your willingness to be vulnerable and funny and so yourself is a precious gift to him, and one he’ll never take for granted. “Thank you for letting me come.”

I’d like to let you come -

Ew, dude.

What?

Now is not the time.

“With that in mind,” he continues, his voice gentle in the dark, “I’m really proud of you. And not in a ‘I’m your boss and you’re making significant progress,’ way. As your friend, I’m really proud of you.”

Your friend.

He is your friend.

I know but that…sucks.

It doesn’t have to.

There’s something in his voice that almost makes you stupid, but you hold your tongue. “Goodnight, Hotch.”

He takes a deep breath, missing the way his first name fits in your mouth. It sounds safe there, like you’d never use it against him. “Goodnight.”

+++

You feel warm and feeling somewhat constricted, but not uncomfortable. There’s weight at your back and an arm around your waist, and you lean into it in your state of half-wakefulness. A little noise leaves the body behind you, almost like a sigh with tone.

Remembering where you are, you resist the instinct to jump. Hotch is wrapped around you like a koala, his knee between yours, one arm under your head and the other around your waist, face buried into the crook of your neck and shoulder.

His hair smells divine, and he’s so warm.

Your theory from yesterday morning seems confirmed - you definitely didn’t fall asleep touching each other, so you must have found each other in the night. The thought warms you, and you close your eyes again.

The ceremony isn’t until the early afternoon, so you have all the time in the world to doze and prepare for the hellscape of the day.

That’s not a fair assessment. You think, and correct yourself.

If the prior evening was any indication, things would go smoothly. Aaron was the world’s best wingman. He kept conversation flowing and took your cues without a second’s hesitation. Everyone loved him, and people asked you all night how you met, how long you’d known each other, how long you’d been together. The first questions were easy, but the last one was one you hadn’t prepared for. He, of course, had an answer for all three.

“We work together.”

“We met, what? Five years ago now? Maybe a little more?”

“We’ve been partners for almost four years.”

And...he wasn’t lying. You always paired off with him at work, whether naturally or by assignment. His lack of specifics in defining your relationship both settled and raised your blood pressure, depending on the way you decided to approach it. The words accompanied an affectionate squeeze around your waist or a kiss to the back of your hand.

You know he’s just playing the part for the weekend and everything will go back to normal when you get home.

But God, he’s good at it.

You almost believe him.

He’s still sleeping behind you, his breath fanning slow and even across your shoulder. You’re both fully clothed, but there’s something intimate about it. Sleep, you think, is inherently vulnerable, inherently a trusting state. You two not only managed to fall asleep in the same bed, but woke up tangled together.

You drop your hand to your waist and rest your hand on top of his, falling back into sleep without too much thought.

When Hotch wakes, it’s thankfully late. He’s far too comfortable to be in a hotel bed, but quickly realizes it’s not the mattress. You’re wrapped in his arms, and for a split second he almost panics, concerned that you’ll wake to find him glommed onto you like some kind of ridiculous backpack.

But then he remembers the way your fingers traced his face when you were sure he was asleep, the way you leaned into him the night before - taking shelter in his willing arms.

He feels your fingers pushed between his, your palm warm against the back of his hand, holding him to you.

He’s fucked. He’s totally and completely fucked. He’s even more fucked to even consider the possibility you’re fucked, too.

How could you possibly want him? A man nearly fifteen years older than you, with one failed marriage under his belt, an inability to tear himself away from his work, and more than enough trauma to drown in is hardly the ideal partner for someone as vibrant as you, with so much life yet to live.

And yet, it’s so hard to imagine a life without you. Whenever he looks into his future, he sees you there with him. It’s far too easy to let himself fall into the fantasy as you peacefully sleep in his arms with your fingers laced together.

You shift a little in your sleep, and he arches his back a little, definitely trying to keep you away from...certain parts of his anatomy that are a little more awake than the rest of him.

Quit while you’re ahead, Hotchner.

He very gingerly disentangles himself from you, and he’s pleased when he only gets a few sleepy protests in return. The shower is calling his name, for more than one reason including but not limited to the uncomfortable tightness of his flannel pajama pants.

With one last lingering glance at you, he picks up his toiletries and locks himself in the bathroom for a long (very) hot shower, followed by a much shorter (very) cold shower.

While he’s gone, you stir and stretch your arms over your head. A little disoriented, you find his side of the bed empty but not quite cold before you hear the running water of the shower.

What if you just -

Do not finish that thought.

You are not one iota of fun.

Reaching for your bag, you pull your laptop out and get started on some emails. You have a couple from Seaver and one from Emily.

You sigh and pull out your phone.

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, Em. You wanted me to call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how things are going down there.” her voice is the picture of forced nonchalance, and you can almost hear Penelope leaning over her shoulder.

You laugh into the phone and trace patterns on the bedspread. “Things are going well. Hotch was the perfect gentleman last night, and we have the ceremony and reception today. We head home tomorrow morning.”

“Has anything happened? Where is he right now?”

“He’s in the shower. And no, don’t be ridiculous.” You shove your phone under your chin and answer all of Ashley’s questions in confident keystrokes. “You and I both know he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

Aaron pauses in the bathroom, in the middle of towel-drying his hair. With a smile, he overhears: “...he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

He can’t hear the response, but he does hear you when you say. “My God, Em. Would you quit?”

Ah. So it is Emily.

“I’m not going to do anything about it because there’s nothing to do anything about...Don’t give me that...You have absolutely no proof...I don’t care if you’re a profiler or not, there is no way you can say with any definitive certainty -” You pause, and your voice drops to a low murmur he can’t hear over the hum of the bathroom fan.

With a frustrated huff, he ties the towel around his waist and ventures out, entirely aware of his state of undress.

You’re so glad you drop your voice to finish your thought (“- that he’s in love with me. Don’t be stupid.”) because the door opens and you are immediately confronted with Aaron Hotchner in a towel and every single coherent thought flies out of your head. He smiles a little at you, and something in you melts.

“Are you good?” Emily’s voice is full of laughter.

The heat rises in your cheeks and you whip your head back to your laptop, typing just for something to do with your hands. “Yeah, for sure.”

“He just walked out wearing a towel, didn’t he?”

“Emily, you know I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You roll your eyes, and miss the smirk on Hotch’s face as he grabs his hanging clothes from the closet.

“So that’s a yes.”

+++

Austin’s family clearly spared no expense for either the ceremony or the reception. You and Aaron had walked in arm-in-arm to find a spot on the groom’s side near the back. It’s still weird - there was a time where you thought for sure Austin was the be-all-end all for you.

But here you are, sitting next to Aaron. He’s wearing that beautiful suit that looks even better on him than it did on the hanger (and that’s saying something). As promised, his tie matches your outfit, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it made your heart all warm watching him put it on.

The ceremony itself is a blur. You stand and sit when you’re supposed to, and spend the vows with your head on Aaron’s shoulder - playing the role, of course. You take a few unsteady breaths, caught off guard by how affected you are by the ritual of it all.

You don’t love Austin anymore, not by a long shot. That said, the reminder that you’re not married to anybody but work and rapidly approaching thirty is unpleasant.

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s whisper doesn’t carry far.

You nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shake your head, the soft wool of his suit jacket pressing into your temple. “Later.”

His cheek presses to your hair for just a moment. He’s not worried about you, per se, but he’s never seen you in this existentially forlorn state before. It’s a feeling he recognizes in himself, but to see it on you makes him feel a new kind of helpless.

+++

You’re at the open bar, snagging a glass of wine for yourself and two fingers of whiskey for Aaron (the good stuff, of course), when Austin’s mother warmly accosts you.

“Darling!”

Against your will, a genuine smile breaks out across your face. “Hey, Laurie!” You set the drinks down and embrace her, the familiar smell of her perfume engulfing you. Suddenly, you feel nineteen years old again. “Congratulations.”

She pulls back and waves off your good wishes. “Oh, please. I haven’t done anything.”

You laugh and shake your head. “I beg to differ, but alright.”

She takes you under her arm and holds you close to her. “So.” Her tone is conspiratorial, as if a great plot is to unfold before you. “Who is that devastatingly handsome man you’ve brought with you to shame my son?”

“I did not bring him to shame your son, he offered to come when my original date bailed. You remember Dean?”

“Of course. Such a sweet boy. Still married to his work?”

You shake your head. “I would be...hypocritical of me to get upset with him for that. My work at the bureau keeps me plenty busy. If I’m honest, this is the first personal time I’ve used in four years.”

She squeezes you for a half-second. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.” Her lips purse. “But don’t think you can get out of telling me about that fine, fine man over there.”

“His name is Aaron,” you start, fighting a smile. “We work together at the bureau and he’s just a friend, Laurie, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I always have ideas. Now, introduce me so I can see for myself.”

With a long-suffering sigh, you grab the drinks off the bar and lead her to the table, where Aaron sits with his fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth, his elbow on the table and ankle crossed over his knee. Approaching from behind him, you set the whiskey down where he can’t knock it over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Aaron.”

He turns, and a broad smile breaks out over his face. You’re sure he’s just being polite - you’ve never seen him smile so much. Offering a hand to Laurie, he stands. “SSA Aaron Hotchner. Thank you for having us. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” She laughs lightly and takes his hand in both of our own. “Laurie Miller. As I’m sure you know, I have a great amount of love for this one here.” She releases Aaron’s hand and tucks you into her arms again, kissing your cheek. You laugh, tickled by her demonstrative affection designed only to embarrass you.

“C’mon, Laur. You don’t have to lie for my benefit.”

You try to ignore the fondness in Aaron’s eyes as he watches the two of you, Laurie cooing over you and your successes. She returns her focus back to Aaron. “Sit, sit and tell me what you crazy kids get up to over there in Quantico.”

Aaron sits and relaxes back into his chair, resting his arm on the back of your seat. You lean forward with your elbows on the table, your hands propping up your head. Aaron’s a great storyteller, of course, and it’s so interesting to watch him talk about work outside of the context itself. He seems to bloom - effusive, charming, and warm - before you.

When you look at him, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

“...Preventing loss of life is always rewarding, and our team is a family.”

Laurie is clearly enamored, completely drawn into his gentle description of your very-stressful and often-gritty line of work. “It’s so lovely you have so much fondness for each other. I imagine it makes everything much easier.”

He nods, and glances at you. “It does.”

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you excuse yourself with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Dean, you bastard!” You answer. Hotch’s huff of laughter tells you he overheard it, but he picks up right where he left off with Laurie.

As you step out onto the banquet hall balcony, almost feel bad leaving him to his own devices, but then you remember all the times he’s been left alone with serial killers and you feel much better.

“Hey babe! Are you surviving? Are you alone? Tell me everything.”

You laugh into the phone. “I’m doing alright. Hotch actually offered to come with me. I just stepped out, but he’s in there holding his own well enough.”

“Oh my god. When I said that I didn’t actually think you’d do it!”

“What do you mean?” You look up and out over the property, and the views are simply breathtaking. The moonlight falling across the Virginia landscape almost makes the world look like it’s holding its breath.

What it’s waiting for... you’re not sure.

“When I said bring your hot boss to the wedding I was joking. You didn’t ask him, did you?”

You let out a snort and it almost disrupts the peace of the evening. “Of course not. He offered.”

“I have never met a pair of people so fucking stupid in all my life.”

“You’ve never met Hotch, idiot.”

“Don’t have to,” Dean says. “I know you are you’re dumb enough for the both of you.”

+++

When the dancing starts, you’re understandably resistant. The playlist is a playful mix of contemporary and classic music, and you can’t help but laugh when Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) starts to play.

Aaron stands and offers you his hand. You take his hand without thinking, belatedly realizing his intentions.

“Hotch, you can’t be serious.” You stop dead in your tracks, but his grip on your fingers stays firm as he looks back at you with a look of humorous disbelief on his face.

“When have you ever known me to be otherwise?” He tugs you forward, and you fall into his arms with a huff. “Humor me. Just one and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

You glare at him, dubious. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying.”

And at the end of the day, you can’t refuse him anything - especially when he smiles at you like that.

He’s an excellent dancer. Your grip on his shoulder slowly loosens as you grow more comfortable, trusting him to lead you around the dance floor. He holds you tight, his movement playful in a way that’s almost foreign to you.

You’ve seen him dance exactly once, at Haley’s 39th birthday party, the summer before she died.

You catch sight of Austin and Madeline on the other side of the dance floor and avert your gaze when you find Austin looking back at you.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is low, almost a laugh.

Your eyes snap to Aaron’s. “What?”

“Relax.”

“You’re one to talk,” you scoff.

He rolls his eyes and throws you out by one arm, spinning you so your back is to his chest. “I’m plenty relaxed. You are tense.”

The feeling of his heartbeat against your back ruins your resolve and you relent. “It just feels weird.”

“What does?” He spins you back out and pulls you close. You try not to be too distracted by the proximity of his face to yours when you land back against his chest, you hand resting over his heart.

“I just -” you push through your reluctance and admit, “I don’t love him in that way anymore, but it’s super weird to even think that I could have ever thought he was it for me. And now he’s with someone he loves and both of our lives just...kept going after we split, you know?” You shake your head, scattering your thoughts.

He nods. “I do.”

You believe him. The very concept of his heartbreak with Haley - the separation, the anger, the divorce, her death, the love - is overwhelming. You know he understands.

The silence that lapses between you is comfortable.

Yeah, I've done a lot of foolish things That I really didn't mean I could be a broken man Here I am, baby...

When he turns you under his arm, you laugh until you can’t breathe. There’s a smile on his face, too, and there’s something warm and inexplicable about it. You turn the tables on him, turning him under your arm and pulling him back to you.

The song changes to something slower and, true to his word, Aaron keeps you out on the dance floor. You’re exhausted all of a sudden, and your eyes close as you rest your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you for being here with me.”

You’re only sure you spoke aloud when Aaron replies, “Of course.”

+++

Your feet ache when you finally call it quits and head upstairs to your room for the night. Aaron’s suit jacket had long since left him, leaving him rolled sleeves and a loose tie with his top two buttons undone. It traveled from the back of his chair to where it now rests, slung over his arm.

You look over your shoulder as you slip your shoes off. “You look positively rumpled, Agent Hotchner.”

He lets out a laugh, and it makes your breath catch. His laugh always takes you by surprise; it’s much brighter and higher than his speaking register, and frankly, adorable. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime.” And it was true - you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d known him to actually sleep, especially on a case. You could neither confirm nor deny that he even needed it to function prior to this weekend.

The thought makes your cheeks a little warm, and you turn away from him, setting aside your pajamas and packing the rest of your items.

There’s a little chuckle behind you before the bathroom door closes and the shower starts up.

When Aaron leaves the bathroom, his hair wet and pajamas on, you’re asleep. Curled up on top of the covers, out like a light.

He flips all the switches, leaving the room in darkness. Creeping to your side of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down, gingerly shuffling your legs underneath, followed by your torso. You stir a little, and catch his hand as he moves to tuck your hands under the covers.

His eyes close, just for a moment, before slipping his hand out of yours. He’s already dreading going back to his empty apartment tomorrow afternoon.

That feeling is only amplified when you curl up against his chest as soon as he’s settled under the covers, your leg hooked over his.

+++

You wake up warm again, and snuggle into the body beside you. Arms tighten around you, and you remember where you are and who you’re with. Unlike yesterday, you can’t pretend to be asleep - when you look up, Hotch is awake, brown eyes looking down at you.

“Good morning,” he says.

You tuck your face back into his chest. “I’m sorry - I’m clingy when I sleep.”

His laugh sings over the crown of your head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

Don't read into that.

I’m going to.

Don’t.

Fuck.

“What time is it?” You crane your neck and look at the clock on his bedside table, but you can’t quite see with his arm in the way.

“Just before nine. We have an hour before checkout. Want to get packed, grab some breakfast, and head out? I’ll drive.”

“You drove here.” You shove at him and sit up.

He shrugs and you take a moment to admire the tousled, floppy state of his hair. “I like driving.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

You sigh, stretch, stand and start rolling. You brush your teeth (twice) and put your clothes back into your suitcase, zipping it up without much trouble. He, of course, takes it off your hands right away and brings the bags to the car while you take care of checkout.

He meets you outside, sunglasses on, and the sun hits his hair. You can see all the nuances in the black - the touch of silver, the dark browns and reds. They all seem to make a halo around him in the sunshine. “Ready?”

You snap back to attention and give him a wide smile. “Yes, sir!”

Breakfast is an eventful affair. As soon as you sit down, you get a call from Penelope.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up?” You look across the table at Hotch with amusement in your eyes, and he smiles, still digging into his eggs benedict like a starving man.

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh, well we’re just at breakfast, almost on our way back. My laptop is in the car, can I take a look at that for you when I get home?”

Not now, Penelope, I’ll call you when I’m home.

She hums, following right away. “You better give me every single detail as soon as you step through the door or I swear I’ll riot.”

With a laugh, you reply, “Of course. You know, it might be easier if you just stop by - I’ll text you when I get home and we can do dinner or something.” You push your food around your plate, trying to ignore the fact that the only person you actually want to have dinner with is right across from you.

“Perfect. Yeah, just text me when you get home babycakes. Can’t wait!” She hangs up promptly, and your eyebrows raise for a half second.

You put your phone away and shake your head. “She’s very predictable.”

He nods, looking at you from under his brows. “Indeed.”

You both continue to dig into your food, not realizing how hungry you are from all your antics the night before. His phone rings next, and it’s Jack.

“Hey bud!”

There’s nothing better than the way his voice transforms when he speaks to his son. You hear your name and return your attention to his conversation.

“...we’re at a wedding this weekend, remember? We got to go to a big party last night, and we’re driving home today… Yeah,” he looks at you, “we did have a lot of fun… I’m so glad you had a good time with Aunt Jess and the Brooks cousins this weekend… You got to go ice fishing? That’s so exciting! Did Grandpa take you?... Awesome, bud… Sounds good, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?... I love you too.”

When he puts his phone away, you ask, “How’s he doing?”

“It’ll be a fight to get him home, that’s for sure.”

You take another bite of your food. “How are things with Haley’s family? Any better?”

“Not at all. I’m not sure there’s much I can do, at this point. Jess does what she can, but her dad is… not a fan of mine.” There’s a kind of sadness in his eyes, and you almost regret asking.

“I know you know this, but none of this is your fault.” You look into him and hope he can see the sincerity in your eyes, hear it in your voice.

He thinks for a moment, and you’re almost nervous he’s going to disagree (it’s happened before), but he just meets your eyes and says, “Thank you.”

+++

Hotch lets you pick the music on the way home, and doesn’t say a word when you sing along (sometimes good, sometimes bad). He does occasionally smile a little secret smile to himself, which makes your heart skip around in your chest.

At a certain point, you turn the music off and sit back in your seat.

As usual, Aaron knows you’re going to say something long before you say it. “Yes?”

“I know I keep saying this, but thank you for coming with me this weekend.” Your body shifts toward him, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his profile.

“You’re welcome.” He glances at you before looking back at the road. “Thank you for trusting me not to embarrass you in front of people you haven’t seen in almost ten years.”

You smile a kind of lopsided sort of smile. “You could never embarrass me.”

He frowns playfully. “That’s not true.”

“You are exceedingly upstanding, and you just got your hair cut, so the odds are in my favor.”

“Hey!” He self-consciously runs a hand over the back of his hair. You reach over to shove at his shoulder and you’re rewarded with a laugh.

“I’m kidding! I like it long.” You look over fondly at him. “It was longer when I first met you, remember?” You’re not sure why you continue, but you do nevertheless. “You started keeping it shorter after the div - well, after.”

He quirks his brow, the corners of his lips upturned just the smallest amount. “Nobody ever accused you of being unobservant.”

You grin widely at him and turn the radio back on.

+++

You’ve never been more disappointed to see your own driveway in your whole life. Hotch pulls in and turns the ignition off, and you sit in silence for a minute.

There’s so much to think about, and most of it is at least a little uncomfortable. Of course you’re in love with him and he’s your favorite person (and that’s bad enough), but that is even harder to stomach now that you have to go back into the real world.

It’s easy to pretend that it was real, that it wasn’t just for show to make you feel less awful about the direction of your love life. If anything, now that you’re home, you feel even worse.

The only person you want is seemingly the only person you can’t have. There’s something so unattainable about Hotch. You’re not sure if it’s his stern exterior or his age or his role, or if it has more to do with how devastatingly handsome he is, but it’s something.

Aaron wishes he could do anything else, than leave you here at home. Nevertheless, he sighs and gets out of the car. You follow him around back, though you’re not really sure why - he takes your suitcase and insists on carrying it all the way to the door.

You stand there, fumbling with your keys, feeling more and more like a character in a romantic comedy with every passing second. Aaron sets your suitcase on the ground and covers your hands with his. You look up at him, and he leans toward you, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

All you can do is nod, with a tight, closed-mouth smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says

“Bye, Hotch,” you call to him as he trots back to the car. “Thanks again.”

He turns toward you, puts his sunglasses on, opens the door, and says, “Anytime.”

You wave with the tips of your fingers and slide into your house. Your back to do the door, you slide down to the floor and cover your face with your hands.

Fuck.

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