#and it turned out he was a horrible person and my ex chose the right person so. get fucked
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its one thing getting jealous. its another thing to be fljealous of someone who wore boot cut jeans unironically..
#fuckkkkkk… throwback to the time him and i both liked my ex and she liked both of us#and me. ME. i said i was comfortable with a poly relationship because i just wanted to date her. i DIDNT EVEN LIKE THE OTHER GUY#and it turned out he was a horrible person and my ex chose the right person so. get fucked#anyways my ex was talking abt him and how he liked her and. i wish i could fucking. like#i wish i could hit my brain with a rolled up newspaper anything something like this happens.#anyways i left my ex on read accidentally and its been like 4 days but i responded to her in the discord server 😘#i have soooo many issues respondinbfg to people and i used to be fine!! but now i talk to so many people and its great but dear god#i am Not Built For This#i hatr existing. like cant u like read my mind and not talk to me or like. talk to me ONLY WHEN I CAN TALK PLS I HAVE ISSUES#lmaooooo i would never talk to people then. nvm#also im realizing i did just. lie. no one even reads these im just lying to myself here.. loser#i didnt leave her on read accidentally i did it because she sent me a video of her and i dont know ir i can watch it and be Ok#me: u should film ur reaction to newjeans omg and send it to me#me when i get what i asked for: i cant do it#L to me. anyways im going to read lotr now#jace.txt
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i saw you in a dream - university au
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chapter thirty eight - you're an asshole, choi beomgyu
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a/n: we are nearing the end. who else booed.
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song for the chapter: sidelines by pheobe bridger
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beomgyu's pov:
okay so in hindsight maybe it was a bad idea to corner his best friend (ex-best friend?) but what else was he meant to do? every time he tried to text you it blew up in his face (which was totally deserved) and you were never in the apartment anymore (which was also probably totally his fault).
he needed to talk to you. you guys needed to talk to each other.
he needed to explain himself. he needed to apologize.
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at 10:37am seungmin texted him that you were on your way to the apartment to do some laundry. usually, he would have class right now so he assumed that's why you chose to come at this time.
no, he knew that's why you chose to come now. that's why he skipped class.
he was waiting by the kitchen counter when you walked into the apartment, seemingly oblivious to his presence.
you always had a lack of awareness which he always scolded you on.
"you should really keep an eye on your surroundings, you never know who could be watching you," he speaks up, making his presence known to you.
you didn't even look in his direction. the moment you heard his voice you automatically turned back to the door to make your exit.
luckily, and sadly, he was expecting that.
he was stubborn, but you were even more stubborn.
he quickly blocked your path out the door, combined with a pleading look on his face as he tried to make eye contact with you. something that you are extremely good at avoiding at this moment.
"yn..."
you huff, "why aren't you in class? you're gonna fail."
his eyebrow furrows, "it's nice to see you too," sarcasm riddled in his voice.
"mhm," you finally make brief eye contact with him. "what do you want?" your tone was sharp and harsh. something beomgyu was not used to hearing directed toward him.
"to talk..." suddenly, he begins to coward into himself. all the previous confidence he had dwindling into nothingness.
"to talk?" you scoff, "talk about what?"
silence fills the room as he thinks of how to respond.
what does he even say to that? 'i want to talk about how awful of a person i am and also how i miss you so much that it is physically making me sick'? yeah. that'll work.
"yn," he sighs and clears his throat, "i miss you."
his words seemed to shock you as your eyes widen a slight bit and you suddenly seem taken aback.
after a few moments, you regain your composure. "okay? go on."
gyu's shoulders relax a slight bit. your words seeming like an invitation for the conversation to continue.
"i'm an asshole"
you laugh slightly, "yeah, i know."
"and i'm sorry for being such a horrible best friend."
the quietness in the air begins to feel less tense. like how it used to be before everything.
"when you, seungmin, and i decided to move away for college i was terrified. but i knew everything would be okay because i had you two. because throughout my life, you were the only person i could ever truly trust. the only one whom i felt comfortable with."
your face slowly softens at his words as memories of your childhood with beomgyu began to dance through your head.
"but when you started working with chan and meeting his friends i started to feel like i was being replaced. suddenly, all of your attention was on them. and then when jeongin came into the picture, it felt like i was nothing to you. you started going out more, missing our movie nights, ignoring my texts and calls. it felt like you were just suddenly ripped away from me."
he wrings his fingers together as he speaks. something he does when he is nervous and lacking confidence.
"and i was hurt. i was devastated. because without a warning my best friend was a ghost in my life. and i thought that soon, you were just going to cut me out completely. so i decided to beat you to it. i decided to cut you out of my life before you had the opportunity to. because i knew i wouldn't be able to deal with you pushing me away."
his voice was slowly becoming weaker. like at any moment it was about to dissipate.
"and it hurt. it hurt so fucking much. it felt like everything i had in life was swept away from me. every text and call from you felt like another knife in my heart. but i felt like it was the only thing to do. i didn't know what else to do. you seemed so happy with your new friends and i didn't want to be the one to ruin your happiness. so i hid away and ignored you. watching you live your life from the sidelines. but then all of the sadness i felt turned into jealousy. and then to anger. and i just. i hated you. i hated you for leaving me. i hated you for not trying to talk to me anymore. i hated you for having a life and for being so fucking happy and for every little thing that you did. i hated it. i hated everything."
though you didn't mean it, tears slowly began to collect in your waterline.
"and i'm," he hesitates, "i'm tired of hating you. i'm tired of living without you. i miss you. and i'm sorry."
his apology cut through you like a knife, breaking the seal that held your tears in place.
"i know you probably hate me, and i would understand if you. i'm an asshole."
"you're such an asshole choi beomgyu," you say through your tears. your words contradicting the smile on your face.
and you hug him. you hug him for all of the days you went without him. you hug him for the sleepless nights. the constant tears.
you just hug him.
and he hugs you.
and in this moment, that is everything you and him ever need in this world.
that's all you ever really needed. each other. (and seungmin) (and minho, jisung, and soul)
"so you don't hate me?" gyu asks as he pulls away from the hug.
you slap him on the shoulder, "no!.. okay... maybe a little. but i always have hated you just a tiny bit!"
he puts his hands up defensively "woah! okay! maybe you're the asshole here!" his accusation making the both of you laugh.
he can't remember the last time he laughed with you.
god he's glad you came home.
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<<<prev masterlist next>>>
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xoxo, four <3
#skz#stray kids#i.n#jeongin#yang jeongin#skz fanfic#stray kids x reader#i.n fanfic#i.n smau#i.n x reader#jeongin fanfic#jeongin stray kids#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin smau#yang jeongin skz#yang jeongin fanfic#yang jeongin x reader#jeongin skz#skz fake texts#skz au#skz fics#skz smau#stray kids fanfic#stray kids au#stray kids fake texts#stray kids smau#university au#i saw you in a dream smau#forgottenfourr
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7 fics with 100k+ words (Teen Wolf)
I don't make a habit of reading longer fics because I get migraines and once I'm invested I can't bring myself to put them down. even if you're like me and don't read long fics, i encourage you to give these a try if they interest you. these are the longest ones I have bookmarked and I hope you enjoy them as much as I have ❤️
read tags. some fics may contain sensitive content. check pairings, ones included on this list might not be your cup of tea.
1. Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation
(Sterek, Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 172,379 words)
There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange.
Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.
2. Bodies Can Be Bought But the Heart Cannot Be Owned; Only Given Freely by kyrene
(Sterek, Explicit, Underage and Rape/Non-con, 102,965 words)
In a world where the human race is enslaved by the werewolf race, Derek Hale struggles to recover from the damage caused to his teenage self by the human, Kate Argent. More to the point, he doesn't believe that slavery is right. But each werewolf gets a personal slave when they become an adult and he's long overdue.
The moment he sets eyes on the filthy, naked slave in the corner of the packed warehouse, Derek knows he has to bring him home. But can he ever gets Stiles, who has never known a kind owner before, to trust that he's finally found a safe place?
3. My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
(Sterek, Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, 285,568 words)
“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more.
“You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?”
“It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.”
Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes.
“I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”
4. Where the Real Beasts Are by kaistrex (weishen)
(Sterek, Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence, 109,100)
Crown Prince Stiles is gifted a direwolf on his eighteenth birthday by King Gerard I of Venatia. The only instruction? Never remove the collar.
Stiles never has been one to do as he’s told.
5. But I Know (a love like this will end in tragedy) by LadySlytherin
(Steter, Explicit, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 175,687 words)
What happens when you combine outstanding medical bills with a werecoyote ex-something-or-other, who doesn't understand boundaries?
In Stiles' case, the answer is: Peter Hale as a sugar daddy.
Stiles knew doing this with Peter was probably a bad idea. He knew it wouldn't be easy. He knew his friends wouldn't understand. Stiles also knew he was going to do it anyway.
6. What the Hell Is This, Baywatch? by Jenetica
(Melissa McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Explicit, Graphic Depictions of Violence and Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 101,913 words)
The summer Melissa expected: A happy reunion with Scott after his junior year of college, a slight uptick in work at the hospital, and a generally quiet couple of months.
The summer Melissa did not expect: A strangely tolerable friendship with Lydia Martin, a hellish bout of supernatural antics, and Stiles Stilinski turning into a hot lifeguard who’s decided he wants to spend his summer giving her some kind of sex-fueled conniption.
Guess which one she gets.
7. Divided Loyalties by LennaNightrunner
(Stackson, Explicit, Underage, 154,031 words)
Jackson returns home after a month spent in London trying (and failing) to start the next phase of his life there. Knowing now from experience that he’d be a fool to try to make it as a werewolf on his own, he asks Derek to take him in as a beta. Derek agrees on the condition that Jackson will do as he’s told. Jackson hopes that, despite the mess left in the wake of the Kanima, he might be able to repair his life in Beacon Hills. Of course, things haven’t really been going the way Jackson has hoped lately...
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Agency
(cw: religious indoctrination, conversion therapy)
I once told a new-ish friend, one who was vaguely aware of my religious background but didn't know any of the details, about my past in the ex-gay movement. How I sought out an ex-gay "ministry" (voluntarily) at age sixteen, and how I subsquently left the organization and the church altogether (also voluntarily) at age nineteen after a serious breakdown.
And he said something I've never forgotten, because it deeply confused me: "It's kind of incredible that you acted with so much agency at such a young age. Choosing to go down that path, and then choosing to leave a few years later when you realized it wasn't working for you."
Like...I just couldn't figure out how that was his main takeaway from my story, and it bothered me immensely for reasons I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Because when I remember that time in my life? It does not feel at all like I was acting with agency and choosing a path freely. Because of course it doesn't. When I committed myself to the ex-gay route, I was doing what I firmly believed God and my church expected me to do. There was no question of doing anything else. I was sixteen, living with my extremely religious mother, and the church had been my whole life since always.
And when I left the movement and the church—well, there's a period of about two years of my life surrounding that exodus that feels like a fever dream even now. I was nineteen, my mental health was in shreds and I was making impulsive decisions from a place of pure panic. That particular decision—run away—turned out to be the right one for me. But it was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a well-considered choice made by a person who was empowered enough to exercise agency over their own life. It was the terrified floundering of a broken child who was just lucky enough to have a place to land with their other parent.
But if you look at just the bare-bones facts of that story, it appears to just be: I made choices, some good and some bad. Because I didn't have a metaphorical gun to my head. So I must have chosen everything I did freely, right? I drank the kool-aid because I chose to, because I wanted to, and later I stopped drinking it and left the church because I wanted to do that. Obviously.
But that's not true at all, because when you've been mentally and emotionally manipulated your entire life, especially when don't even realize it's happening because you love and trust the people doing it to you—it affects everything you do. You can't choose freely from that headspace.
But for the longest time I would look at people who had actually been dragged kicking and screaming into conversion therapy by their families, or people who had been kicked out of their religious communities and shunned by everyone they loved, and I would think, "Wow, other people had all these horrible things done to them, but I did this to myself." And I would feel ashamed and foolish and would tell myself that I had no right to claim to be traumatized by something that was, after all, the result of my own choices.
That's the insidiousness of this kind of indoctrination. They get you to do what they want, not through direct coercion, but by manipulating you into believing it was all your own idea. And then people watching from the outside believe that, too.
#religious trauma#religious indoctrination#religious deconstruction#exvangelical#conversion therapy#ex gay#ex ex gay
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Okay, I am reading part 16 of IKYLLATK and I am just 😤.
I know that healing is not a linear process. But, seriously, at this point Cheer is a glutton for punishment. Steve is still with Nancy and he’s really asking to sneak into his ex’s room the night before her birthday?
Honestly, after reading the flashback of the shit he pulled on Cheer’s last birthday, someone out to dick punch him. Like, I am ready to crack my knuckles and make him hurt.
There’s definitely a big part of me that wants Steve to know what it’s like to love someone wholly to the point of consuming him but that person doesn’t love him back. I want him to know the pain he inflicted on Cheer and I want him to suffer when he sees that she’s completely moved on from him and she’s giving her love to someone who knows to treasure her (👀 Eddie 👀). I want him to suffer that feeling an perish.
Not going to lie, I am a vengeful person and I hate how Steve put Cheer through so much and yet, even though she knows that he was never good to her, he still has a hold on her.
It also grinds my gears that Nancy got the boyfriend that Steve should have been to Cheer. And don’t get me started how he’s being nosy about what’s going on between Cheer and Eddie. It’s like, it’s none of his business if Eddie is in love with Cheer. Steve’s no longer her boyfriend.
I’m nervous about the next chapter. I’m really hoping that Steve suffers a lot of emotional damage. I am rooting for Eddie to be there for Cheer on the Eve of her birthday.
Or, wouldn’t it be funny if Cheer spent the night before her birthday with Eddie in his trailer and Steve snuck in through her window to see an empty house? I feel like the tables would be turned.
I can’t wait to see what happens next. Thank you!
Cheer keeps on suffering, Steve keeps behaving like a damn fool — don’t worry, it’s gonna be over soon! A miracle might happen!
The anger you feel towards Steve makes me laugh but I absolutely agree, he deserves to be punched in his dick, what he did on her birthday in the year before was just horrible and it’s actually about to get worse, this wasn’t even the full flashback, there is more.
He does deserve to suffer after everything he had done, and watched the person he loves the most love someone else…. hmmm… there’s something coming 🤭
You’re right! It’s none of his business if Eddie is in love with her or not or if she is in love with him. He dumped her and chose someone else over her, he should be happy for her if she found someone else who can love her better than he ever could but he’s a little selfish…
Him sneaking into an empty house would be funny 😂😂
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Ok Picard 3.02
My heart is still pounding to be honest.
Spoilers spoilers, many spoilers, all the warnings.
Ok Jack Crusher has charisma in spades. They seem to be going for a Han Solo type vibe and it’s working - I like him.
What I do NOT like and what I knew I wouldn’t like is the whole “Picard’s son” thing because I can’t make it make sense. Why would Beverley have hidden that from Picard? They were friends for years/a couple of decades before they gave being a couple a go. Even if Beverley was certain Picard didn’t want a kid, and admittedly I have just seen the movies and to mid-season 3 of TNG, but she seems honourable. She wouldn’t make him be involved. Perhaps she “didn’t want to trap him” but she always seemed to make moral arguments on the Enterprise about right to know. I just don’t see why the secret and until I do (and it makes sense) I will remain irritated.
I am doubly irritated by Shaw. I hate the man, I loathe him with the fire of a thousand suns. He is a grade A asshat and the way he just went “oh ok then” when Picard said “it’s my son” like that made a difference!?!? I mean Jack Crusher was somebody’s son! Beverley’s in fact so why does Picard providing half the genetics change a damn thing? I hate it. I would have preferred Shaw by like “yeah and so??” because the argument remains the same. The hundreds of crew lives vs. one guy. That is about the one thing Shaw isn’t wrong about. I hate him for how he treats Seven. Insisting on her deadname, being so blatantly bigoted and disrespectful. But Picard choosing to risk his own life for a personal mission is one thing, it IS irresponsible to decide to risk the lives of an entire ship. I mean “the greater good” is a bad thing to say I know, and I get principle is important but the crew of the Titan have value. Their lives are just as valid.
I mean I’m not saying they should have turned Jack Crusher over. Because Federation ideals and everyone onboard signed up for StarFleet and that fight. What I am saying is that make it about that, because it doesn’t matter a damn who is related to who. Being a Picard doesn’t make Jack Crusher anymore worthy of being saved and I hate the implication that it does.
I really think that season 3 is going to wind up like season 2 in that I find a big chunk of the ‘main’ story to be a complete waste of airtime. Picard and his whole mother story was something that weakened season 2 horribly and I feel like this son angle is going to be the same.
Seven deserves better. The premiere allowed some hints at what she has been dealing with. This episode barely gave her anything to do beyond repeating that Shaw is an asshat, and about the Rangers in addition to everything else. Seven is playing second fiddle, being like background and she is too good for that.
Now Raffi. Oh Raffi. The saviour of the episode. I may wind up watching this season for Raffi alone. She is knocking every damn scene she gets out of the park, my heart just breaks for her. Raffi blaming herself was something I knew would happen, Raffi being determined to get to the bottom of it and not believing the party line - well that’s how she was drummed out of StarFleet the first time over the Mars attack. You would think they should have learned to listen to her as Raffi was right then, and she was right now.
Bringing in her ex-husband was one big ball of pain. The ultimatum he put down of the case or her son was an impossible one. It’s actually a bit like the Titan/Picard scenario only Raffi didn’t choose what she wanted (her son), she chose her duty. Because it isn’t just about the lives that were lost - it’s about how many more are at risk. Whomever behind this gets away with it and their scheme will continue. They thought nothing of killing 117 people. They need to be stopped. But man Raffi’s face just about killed me because she knew this was a turning point. She has chosen duty over her son before, and she lost him, and when Gabe hears she did it again - she may never get another chance. I don’t know if she had a chance to begin with but if there was hope it’s gone. And Gabe doesn’t seem like he’ll care if Raffi saves the Galaxy. I guess it’s a cost of heroism they don’t usually show. Because he probably accepts it’s important but “why does it have to be my mom?” Because always coming second burns whether it’s for a noble reason or not.
I confess I did not see it coming that Worf was Raffi’s handler. I was thinking it was some shadowy enemy bad guy. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that he saved her. I love that they are giving Raffi this meaty story and integrating her into the TNG stuff through making her story be Worf’s intro. I just wish they would shine more light onto Seven as well. But hell Raffi deserves this, Raffi deserves even more. I hope that it continues and Raffi and Seven both get their time to shine even when more TNG cast are brought in. I am concerned that the cast is big and they might get shuffled to the back and forgotten by the end of the season :/
Anyway! Moving onto the last piece of my heart that Raffi stole. She risked her sobriety (and I would argue it’s a risk rather than a loss) to keep her cover and continue the mission. Raffi made a choice to go all in and that was brave. I suspect it will make resisting drugs even harder now she’s had another taste. That struggle will make her (hopeful) victory even more impressive. I wish I knew for sure whether Raffi was still in touch with Seven. They are in different places, doing their own thing, but Raffi needs someone that understands and that won’t judge her.
I am still like ahhhhh over it being Worf! The text messages have a different inflection now as Worf never did feel the need to explain himself. When I first saw the blade I did hope for half a second that Elnor has come for Raffi but I did know better as he’s not in this season :( I miss him.
I don’t get this villain. I do very much like the “doctors without borders” thing, very similar to Seven and the Rangers that they are suggesting Beverley was doing. But why does the villain want Jack Crusher? Given how much of the plot seems to hinge on this reason it better be a damn good one. Like maybe he stole something that is irreplaceable? It can’t be merely expensive as clearly they have enough resources to buy entire solar systems. I have a feeling the reason is not going to live up to the hype. I am much more invested in Raffi’s investigation!
I want Seven to either reform StarFleet somehow so they actually do some damn good, or tell them to stuff it and go back to being a Ranger. Seven deserves better dammit.
Ok I don’t think I have anything else to ramble about but Raffi is living in my head rent free right now. No thoughts, only Raffi. I have tried to make sense but my brain is just like ahhhhh because I have feelings. My heart breaks for her suffering. I want to fix it somehow for her. I want her to reunite with Seven and for them to work together and save the day.
Anyway next week I predict we’ll have a boring ass time playing peek a boo in the nebula and Seven won’t get enough to do. I remain deeply disappointed that the crew didn’t rise up against Shaw and throw him out of an airlock (I am kidding, mostly). And then we’ll have a handful of incredibly compelling scenes with Raffi and my heart will be in shreds again. Also bets on the next TNG appearance? I am thinking maybe Deanna. Her spider sense may have said Riker is in trouble I don’t know. We shall see.
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Break up
Summary: After having a messed up break up, your best friend Dabi is there to comfort you, and give even more than you asked for.
Word count: 5,2k
Genre: romance, smut, no quirks haha
Warnings: 18+, creampie, public sex, spitting, choking..
,, I fucking hate him’’ you cried loudly, mouth full of ice cream as you talked to your cousin over the phone. At this point you didn’t care of how loud you were, and you didn’t care about the fact that your cousin had a hard time understanding you since you were a crying mess. Sobbing loudly, you ignored the words coming from the other line.
,, That bitch cheated on me with Toga, can you believe that?’’ you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped yourself with your favorite comfort blanket.
,, The girlie with weird hair ?’’ your cousin asked in shock.
,,YES, the fuck she thinking she’s the fifth element with that hairstyle?’’ you choked out, throwing the empty package across the room, as your cousin giggled because of your remark. She wished she was closer so she could pay you a visit, but sadly miles and miles were separating the two of you.
Sure, the first person you wanted to inform about your breakup was Touya, but you couldn’t force yourself to bother him, knowing he’s probably on work. You knew very well that he would drop everything and come over, saying how he doesn’t feel well or some other shit, and you didn’t want that.
After the call ended, you stood up, ignoring your reflection on the window, knowing very well that you look like shit right now with all the smudged mascara over your face. Tears started rolling down your cheeks even more when you saw that there’s no ice cram anymore. What did you do to deserve such a torture.
Wearing your hoodie, you made your way toward the nearest store, ignoring the people that were giving you weird stares because of your silly Sailor Moon pajama shorts. You couldn’t care less of what anyone thought in that moment.
You went to the store with the intention to buy ice cream, only to end up in the part of it with variant different choices of hairdye. So many ideas were going thru your mind, as you looked all over it. You almost ended up buying the pink dye and some bleach, until you saw scissors hanging beside the bleach.
Grabbing the scissors only, you hurried up to pay everything you chose, rolling your eyes shamelessly as you saw Rumi, the cashier of the fucking day. For some weird reason, you almost hated the muscular bitch. Maybe it was because she never had the exchange to give you back, giving you a pack of gums instead. Maybe it was because of her attitude, always giving you some smart comments, how your skirt is too short, how there are kids here, or even because she always rolled her eyes when she saw you coming in.
,, Looks like someone had a rough day’’ she commented sarcastically, as you gave your best to keep calm and ignore her. After the comment, she shut her mouth and did her job.
,, Sweetie, can you help?’’ she asked, suddenly with a cute tone, when her co-worker asked her to bring him few paper bags that were beside her.
,, No, you are doing great’’ you spat, grabbing all of the items as you hurried out of the store. The fuck would you help her? She’s getting paid for it, not you. Stupid bitch.
Placing the ice cream into the freezer, you immediately made your way to the toilet as you unpacked the scissors almost aggressively. Why would you dye and ruin your hair with bleach, when you could just cut off a bit of your hair, which meant the exact length of his dick.
Your hair was already long, and the fact that his dick wasn’t that big meant that you would only cut few inches. After short calculating, you grabbed the scissors, as you turned some silly tutorial on Youtube. Watching yourself in the mirror, you cried even harder, not because you regretted your decision. It was more because you looked like a lunatic.
After you finished, you immediately washed your face, cleaning all the ruined make up. Sure it didn’t look like a professional person did your hairstyle, but it didn’t look bad either, in fact, you liked it.
Since you weren’t in the mood to do your make up, you only put a bit of face cream over your face, and bit of mascara to make your eyes pop up a bit, before you took few selfies to post on instagram.
You were too lazy to do it, all you wanted to do in the moment was cry some more and eat ice cream you just bought, while watching something on Netflix. But you had to do it, you had to embarrass him as much he embarrassed you.
,, Not gonna miss those 5 inches, Kai.’’
You wrote, laughing ironically at the caption under your selfie. It wasn’t the best selfie you ever took, but at least you didn’t look like you were suffering because of the breakup, and the much shorter hair was visible on it.
[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki
,, What happened?’’
It wasn’t even a minute since you posted your photo on the instagram, and your best friend already messaged you there.
Bitch cheated on me
You replied, sending him a crying selfie, with a spoon in your mouth.
[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki
I’ll be there in 15 mins
A smile crept on your face, as you read his message. You loved him more than anyone or anything else on the whole word. If it was someone else coming over, you would probably force yourself and clean the apartment. But since it was Dabi, you didn’t give a shit.
The moment he arrived, you started bawling your eyes out. Having a face to face conversation with someone, talking about the break up made your feelings awake again. Dabi in other hand tried to make you feel better, bringing you your favorite snacks, and trying to put Kai down.
,, I’ve never had drama, unless it’s with my inner self’’ you cried loudly. ,, And all of sudden, I’m being cheated on.’’ Adding you grabbed the chips from the paper bag and opened it almost aggressively. Touya laughed you out, pointing every drama you’ve been connected to.
,, Stop it, you’re supposed to make me feel better’’ you slapped his arm lightly, as he talked about the drama that happened back in high school, when you got into a huge fight with a girl that called your dog a rat.
Once Touya realized that your mood was only getting worse, he turned some documentary on Netlfix that he started watching few days ago, explaining everything about it to you. You couldn’t help but smile, as you listened to him explaining every small thing, making sure you won’t be confused once he plays the episode.
,, You only watched few episodes of one murder documentary and you think you’re Mr. worldwide intellectual.’’ You laughed, as he tried to explain professionally.
,, The fuck you talking about ? The only documentary you watch is Keeping up with the Kardashians, so shut the fuck up’’ he spat, rolling his eyes playfully as he played the documentary.
The thing he played was about some murder, nothing you would watch on your own, but you didn’t mind. Seeing him talk about it so excitedly made your heart warm and in that moment you didn’t care if you won’t be able to sleep next few days.
You always loved spending your time with Touya, you simply loved how even when none of you had something to say, the silence was never uncomfortable. Even just sitting with him was making you feel safe.
,, You really choped your hair’’ he said, as he started to play with your hair. Being tired from all the crying and with his gentle movements, you were not capable of replying, simply nodding your head in response.
,, It looks good on you’’ Touya complimented you, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. He noticed that you were zooming out, so he just continued to caress your, helping you fall asleep.
All the horrible thoughts he had washed away, once he saw your sleeping face. He could only smile to himself as he noticed how puffy your face got from all the crying. Sure, it wasn’t that visible, but he simply noticed it and found it more then cute.
He tried to act calm and suppress his feelings, he tried to be there for you, but when you talked about what happened, all he wanted to do was find that piece of shit of your ex and simply kill him. He couldn’t understand how did you always manage to find some weird boyfriends that didn’t appreciate and treat you as you deserved.
If you only gave him a chance, he would always be there for you, he would simply give you anything you wished for. Touya never understood how could you be so blind, never once did you notice his feelings for you. Never once did you question his behavior.
Every time you called him over, he would ditch all his plans and run to you. Every time you needed something, you knew very well that only Touya will help you 100%.
You woke up in your bedroom, a little bit confused about what time it was and if your best friend was still there. Taking your phone to check what time it is, your eyes widened when you saw a Instagram notification from Kai. That piece of shit had balls to like your photo.
Throwing your phone away, you started crying again, wishing the day you met him never happened. You wished you listened to your best friend when he told you that Chisaki ain’t the one for you.
,, You ok?’’ you heard Touya’s voice under the loud TV noise. In just a second he was beside you, warming your body with his own and wrapping his arms around you, telling you how everything is ok and how he’s there for you.
,, Come on, stand up’’ Touya commanded suddenly, forcing your upper body up. ,, We are leaving’’ he added, forcing you out of the bed. You were too confused to even think at that very moment, but you found yourself following his lead. Wearing one of your very oversized shirt that covered more than enough, you hurried out of your bedroom to Toyua who was waiting for you already all ready.
You didn’t know what was happening, and the pack of eggs in his hand was confusing the shit out of you, yet you found yourself in the passenger seat, doing whatever Touya planned at that moment.
,, Where are we going ?’’ you asked, tears long gone.
,, We’re egging his car’’ he said, as your eyes widened in shock.
,, Is that even legal?’’ you asked again, already all excited about it.
,, Nope’’ Touya laughed out, focused on the road. You were sure that Kai would know it was you, definitely. But he also won’t have balls to call the police on you, since you knew about all his dirty deeds, you knew about all the drugs he’s taking and having hidden somewhere in his house.
Kai didn’t live far away from you, so in only few minutes of drive the two of you found yourself in front of his car. Lighting one cigarette, Dabi took the paper that was placed on the windshield.
,, Stop perking on my spot’’ Dabi read out loud, pointing out the word he wrote wrongly. You laughed loudly as you remembered about Kai telling you about some dude parking his Motorcycle in front of his car, making it hard to get out of the spot for him.
,, He can’t write, but he can do meth I guess’’ you laughed, as Touya puffed on his cigarette.
You stood there close to Kai’s car, as you waited for your best friend to finish his cigarette. It was a quiet night, with no people around at all. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was rushing in your blood, or the fact that you spent all day crying like a mad person, but in that very moment all you felt was anger as you thought about your ex.
,,Here’’ Touya gave you the package, still smoking that cigarette. You weren’t sure if he took his time with cigarette or if the time was simply passing so slow for you, since he was a pretty fast smoker.
To his surprise, you grabbed one egg and immediately threw it on his car, making him rise his eyebrows and laugh in shock. You never did something like that before, so you didn’t really understand why the alarm didn’t go on. Was your throw too weak?
A huge grin formed on your lips as you threw another egg, you couldn’t stop the evil laugh as you watched the egg yolk all over the window and in that moment you wished you had rotten eggs instead. Watching you happy like that, Touya couldn’t hide his smile. He was almost sure that everyone could read his emotions, he was sure that everyone could say how much in love he was with you.
You were on your fourth egg when Touya took one from the package and threw it. You weren’t sure if he threw it with much more force, or if he already did this before, but when the egg hit the car, loud alarm took over the peaceful night.
,, Shit, we have to hurry’’ Touya said under his breath as both of you threw one more egg. Sure, Kai won’t call the police, but if someone else saw you, they sure will.
You were laughing loudly, as you took your last egg, ready to throw it while Touya explained to you at what you should aim for.
,, HEY’’ you heard a familiar voice, coming from the building you used to spend so much time in. Not even turning around, you threw the egg and rushed to Toyua’s car, hopping fast into passenger seat. The moment Kai got out, everything happened too fast.
You wished you could take a photo of his upset face as he looked over your car. You were sure that you never saw him mad like that.
,, YOU FUCKING SUCK’’ he yelled once he turned the alarm off, while Dabi was ready to drive off, laughing loudly with you.
,, AND YOU SWALLOW BITCH’’ you yelled, popping your head thru the window. Touya gave you a bit time to flip him a bird, before he drove fast off, leaving your ex boyfriend pissed on the road. Laughing loudly, you leaned back into the seat, satisfied with the little event your best friend thought of.
,, You are seriously the best’’ you said, still smiling widely. Touya nodded his head, focused on the road. Every time he took a look of you, his heart would skip a beat. He was so fucking glad that you weren’t sad anymore, at least not for now.
You weren’t sure what had he planned next, since he wasn’t driving back home, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed his company, and you enjoyed the fact that you felt nothing else beside happiness in the moment. It was weird how fast emotions were taking over you. Just one hour ago you were a crying mess, and all of sudden you found yourself enjoying the night with your best friend.
You didn’t even realize how hungry you were, until Touya stopped by McDonalds to buy some food. Once he came back, placing the milkshakes and paper bag into your lap, you almost started drooling from the delicious smell.
He parked on the spot beside lake, where the two of you usually come to chill a bit. The music played on the low as the two of you ate slowly and talked about casual stuff. The moment a song from the famous tiktoker started playing in the background, you wished your hands weren’t so oily from the food. You wanted to change the song, but you didn’t want to make your phone oily, you weren’t even sure why you had that song in your playlist after all.
,, Does this song bother you?’’ he asked, taking a sip from his milkshake.
,, Yeah there’s a word that’s pissing me off’’ you rolled your eyes in annoyance.
,,Which one?’’ he asked confused.
,,When she says This ain’t build a bitch, you don’t get to pick or choose, what she should have said is nothing and just never release that stupid song’’ you hissed, wiping your hands as you changed the song that was pissing you off so much.
,, You are so cute’’ he complimented you, as both of you placed the rest of the food in the paper bag. Everything you did was cute to him, the was you sneeze is cute to him, the way you rise your brows when you are surprised, the way you laugh at your own jokes sometimes. Everything.
,,Did you know that Yumi got pregnant ?’’He asked you suddenly. Your eyes widened in shock, as you heard him ask, not because it was weird or anything like that, the two of you always gossip, but because you knew Yumi so well. You weren’t best friends with her, but the two of you would casually meet up.
,, Wasn’t she on the pills?’’ you asked, covering your mouth with your left hand. ,, Oh fuck no, I don’t claim this negative energy’’ you gasped shaking your head as Dabi laughed at your sudden reaction.
Talking about pregnancy and sex, you found yourself thinking about the last time you slept with your ex. You didn’t feel any sadness, all you felt was disappointment and anger. Just the thought that he was the last one inside you was making you mad, and the fact that only god knows when will you sleep with someone again was making you mad even more.
It’s not that you were a prude, or that you had something against one night stands. Sure, you could install Tinder and just find a quick fuck, knowing very well that the thought will bother you until the problem in your head is solved. But you weren’t the one to jump under the covers with a complete stranger.
,, What’s up?’’ Dabi asked once he saw you confused and lost in your thoughts. Hearing his voice, a sudden idea popped up in your head. You shook your head, trying to not think about it. He is your best friend for fucks sake, you can’t use him for something like that.
,, Nothing’’ you shook your head once again, trying to avoid his eyes.
,, Oh come on, tell me’’ he said stubbornly, as he placed his cigarette between his lips.
,, You know, the fact that Kai was the last person I had sex with, and the fact that I don’t know how long it will stay that way is bothering me’’ you confessed, skipping the part with the rest of your thoughts.
,, and you thought I could help you with it’’ Touya joked, as he puffed on his cigarette.
,, How did you know?’’ You asked way too fast, regretting it almost immediately once he almost choked onto the air and the smoke of his cigarette.
,, You can’t be serious’’ Touya said under his breath, closing his eyes as he spoke those words out. You weren’t sure why, but your heart sank a bit once you heard him say that.
,, Ah come on, it can be a quick fuck, it won’t change anything between us’’ he whined, turning your body to his direction. Once you said that, Touya grabbed you and forced you into his lap. You were more then shocked by his action, but you still positioned yourself comfortably in his lap, not sure if you should say anything or just wait..
,, You think I’ll be able to go back after it ?’’ he asked, one hand holding your waist firmly, and other holding his cigarette. ,, Doll, you should know better than anyone that I don’t do quick fucks’’ he added, as his grip got stronger. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not, but you felt uneasy at that moment, not sure where this all is leading.
,, If we do it now, there’s no going back doll, you’ll belong to me’’ he added again, as you sat in his lap confused. It was weird to hear him talk like that.
,, Touya, that can fuck up our friendship’’ you whispered. You were way too confused, not sure if he was talking about a relationship with you or just about you not sleeping with anyone else beside him.
,, And a quick fuck won’t do it?’’ he hissed, throwing the finished cigarette out of his window. He was right, both of it could fuck it up, and your idea was probably the worse option. The problem you had just few minutes ago was long gone, as new thoughts took over your mind. The fact that he was slowly placing soft kisses all over your neck didn’t help the situation, and the fact that you tiled your head to the side to give him more access to it didn’t help either.
You weren’t sure if you were simply too horny in the moment and if emotions took over you, but one part of you wanted to give it a try, yet another part of you was simply too scared of losing him. You did think about it before, how lucky can a girl be to call herself his girlfriend!? He’s not like other guys, at least not to you. He was always so caring, so gentle and so loving with you. He was the one who was always there for you, and in fact, you were more than sure that if you two start something, you won’t end up being hurt. But the fact that your friendship was under a question because of it was making you scared. Touya is the only person you never want to lose, and he knew that very well.
,, What do you say doll? Wanna try?’’ he asked, as he kissed your jaw softly. You weren’t sure how were you even capable of thinking at all in that moment.
,, Yes’’ you breathed out, closing your eyes shut as you enjoyed his soft kisses. Could you really lose him? If you had to worry about it so much, you should worry about the very exact moment. Why wouldn’t the current event ruin your friendship, now that you know that he doesn’t really see you as a friend as much as you thought. If you start some kind of a relationship with him, and if it doesn’t work, the two of you could talk it out.
The moment you said yes, Touya grabbed your yaw with his right hand, brushing his nose with your own before he connected his lips with yours. Once you placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to get closer to him, he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.
What really drove him crazy was you rolling your hips on him. The fact that you had nothing else under your oversized shirt than your favorite panties almost made him cum in that very moment. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back into the seat, as you tried to catch your breath. Touya pulled your shirt up, exposing your naked chest. Not wasting any time, he placed his left on your right boob, pinching and twisting your already hard nipple, while sucking the other one.
Just the feeling of his hot breath made you throw your head back, enjoying the sucking and squeezing he was giving you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, finding support in it. Every roll you did with your hips, was met with his own one, making you feel his hard erection under his sweatpants. A quiet moan escaped your lips when you felt him bite on your nipple few times before he got back onto sucking it again.
Touya pulled your hips up a bit, giving you a sign to stay in that position as he pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, just enough for his dick to spring up. You knew that he had a dick piercing, in fact, you were in the waiting room when he decided to get it, but you still were shocked. It looked so good, so attractive.
You wanted to get out of his lap, you wanted to taste him, but his hands stopped you. Pushing you back onto his lap once again.
,, You have no idea how much I love you’’ he said, brushing his lips on your own, as he pushed your panties to the side and rubbed the tip of his dick around your hole.
,, I love you too, so much’’ you confessed, kissing him softly, as the pink head of his dick slowly entered you, hands on your hips slowly leading you down onto his length, until he was all in.
,, I know’’ Touya smirked into the kiss, enjoying the warmth of your walls hugging his dick. The hands on your hips slowly started to lead your hips up and down. The pace was so slow you could feel every inch of his dick rubbing against your velvety walls. Touya wasn’t one to enjoy the slow pace that much, but with you it was something else. He wanted to feel you as much as possible, and pushing his dick so slow into you gave him that possibility.
Just thinking about how it finally happened almost made him cream inside you. Closing his eyes, he let you move up and down his dick on your own. When you nuzzled your head into his neck he almost lost it, holding your hips down for few seconds just to calm his dick down. The small I love you that you whispered into his neck all over again didn’t help either, making it hard for him to control himself.
His hand found its way under your shirt, while his lips were all over your neck now, leaving sloppy marks all over it. You weren’t sure what did you enjoy more, his lips and hot breath over your neck, sucking and biting it, his hand squeezing your left breast or his dick deep inside you rubbing against your cervix.
Even tho you were moving your hips so slow, every time you were pushing your hips down, his would move upward, snapping against you with a little force and hitting your cervix perfectly. The both of you were breathing heavily, enjoying every second of the slow sex you had.
Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled your body closer to his, as he started moving just a little bit faster. You squeezed your eyes shut, as you realized that your climax was getting closer and closer with every move. Touya noticed your breathing getting faster, and your walls hugging his dick tighter then before, as he pulled your body up a bit, pushing you against the steering wheel and giving himself more access to move and fuck you a bit faster and stronger then before.
Moaning loudly, you wrapped your arms around him as you came all over his dick, almost shocked that you came without any clit stimulation. Dabi didn’t stop fucking you, helping you ride off the hard orgasm that just hit you.
Once he was sure you were done, he sat down. He lowered his seat, as he changed the position, locking you under him. Without giving you a chance to understand anything, he pushed his dick inside you.
,, I’m not done with you’’ he groaned, as he started moving his hips at much faster pace then before. Instead of saying anything, you wrapped your legs around him, placing your hands around his neck and just kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough of him, and luckily he felt the same. Accepting everything you had to offer, gladly.
The slow and steady pace was long forgotten, as he fucked you into the seat of his car with much more force and at one ungodly speed. You were pretty sure that the car was moving with every move he did, and you were sure if someone happened to be near, they would know what’s going on, but that was the last thing you cared of.
You were a moaning mess under him, and he was no better than you. You were surprised when you felt his hand around your throat, holding you in one place and playing with your breath. Open your mouth for me was all he said, before you felt thick saliva in your mouth. When it started, you thought it would be only some vanilla sex, the last thing you thought was that he would end up choking you and spitting in your mouth.
If it was someone else, you would probably freak out, but since it was him, you only obeyed, mouth open and tongue out, giving him approval for more.
,,That’s my good girl’’ he said, as he spat into your mouth one more time, while his grip around your neck only grew stronger. He was moving at rapidly speed, his skin slapping against your own was louder than the music that was playing in the background.
You closed your eyes as you started catching your breath once his hand moved away from your neck. Touya couldn’t control himself anymore, grabbing the edges of the seat, as he fucked into you. The pain mixed with pleasure was too intense for you, but you are his good girl, and you are doing so great for him, he made sure you understood that, as he repeated it all over again, while fucking into you.
The moment you felt his fingers rubbing your clit in circles, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut, moaning loudly, as he told you to cum all over his dick, so you did as you were told and that was enough for him to reach his own high. Few harsh moves and he found himself cuming deep inside you. Even Toyua doesn’t know how did he find the energy to tell you how good you are milking his dick, but he did.
Collapsing on top of you, he fucked his seed inside of you, making sure not a single drop will get outside of your tight little out, making sure none of it will go to waste.
,, You’re mine’’ he said, placing soft kisses all over your face, and you were his. You were always his and he was always yours.
You weren’t sure how long would it take you to get over your stupid ex, but you were sure that Touya will be there for you and help you out in every way he can. Starting from the moment the two of you left your apartment, to the very moment the two of you cuddled inside of his car, after one steamy sex. All you could think of was your best friend and what would future bring you.
#smut#dabi fanfic#dabi headcanons#dabi smut#dabi todoroki#dabi x oc#romance#bnha fanfiction#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#yandere dabi x reader#dabi x reader#touya x y/n#touya fanfic#touya imagine#touya todoroki#touya#mha dabi#dabi#touya smut#mha smut#bnha smut
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The Boy Next Door
Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)
[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.
[Word count] 6.7K
[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.
[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!
Summer.
The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…
For most people.
For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.
You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.
You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.
College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.
It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.
There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.
“Honey? You home?”
“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.
“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?
“Yeah…”
“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”
“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”
“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”
“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”
“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.
“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”
“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”
“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”
“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”
“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.
“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”
Bang…
Christopher…
You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.
“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”
You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.
You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.
He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.
Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.
When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.
You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.
“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.
“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”
“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!
“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.
“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.
“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.
The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.
And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.
Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.
You never held his hand in chemistry again.
Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.
When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.
It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.
He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.
But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.
He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.
He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.
Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.
Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.
Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?
University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.
You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.
Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.
That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.
Ah… the good old days.
What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?
To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.
A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.
“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”
“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.
“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.
“Fine…”
The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -
The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.
Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…
“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.
“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.
“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.
There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.
“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.
You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.
“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.
“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”
With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.
It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.
You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.
No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.
You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.
You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.
Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.
Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!
Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?
But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.
You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.
“You know those are bad for you.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.
“Sorry I didn’t -”
“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”
“ - mean to startle you…”
“Damn it, Christopher!”
“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”
“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”
“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.
“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.
There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.
“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”
“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”
“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.
“I left without saying anything.”
“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”
“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“So you left without saying anything?”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.
“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?
“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”
“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”
“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.
“I really messed up there…”
“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.
“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”
“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”
“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”
“I got hurt.” You admit.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”
“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”
“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.
“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.
“Oh, you noticed?”
“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”
“Really…Plain old me?”
“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”
“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”
“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.
“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”
“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”
“Do tell.”
“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”
“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”
“Did you finish school already?”
“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.
“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”
“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”
“How so?”
“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”
“We were just kids.”
“I guess we were…”
Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m single too, you know.”
It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.
Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.
Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.
Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.
Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.
The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.
And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.
He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.
It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.
The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.
He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.
It was all horribly, horribly shameful.
But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.
Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?
It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.
It was driving him fucking insane.
If only you knew.
Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.
And Chris was particularly fuckable.
Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.
Everything was perfect.
“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”
Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?
It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.
“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”
“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”
“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.
“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”
“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.
“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.
“Are… are you serious?”
“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”
Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.
“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.
He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.
“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.
“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.
He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.
You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.
“No.” He growls.
“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!
“Let me.”
And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.
He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.
He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.
It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.
He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.
It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.
It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.
Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.
Things started to change though.
The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…
You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.
You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.
You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.
You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.
He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.
You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.
“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”
“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.
“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.
“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”
“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.
“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.
“What for?”
“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.
“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.
“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”
He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.
“I know… but what else can we do?”
There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.
You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.
But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.
He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.
It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.
Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.
A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.
It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.
The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.
However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.
Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.
“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.
And then you see him.
Him.
Your him.
He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.
“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.
“I… live in 304.” He says.
“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.
You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.
“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.
“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.
This can’t be.
But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.
“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.
“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.
“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.
One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.
It’s real.
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It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader, mentions of past Aaron Hotchner x Haley Brooks
Warnings: MAJOR ANGST, character death, angst with happy ending, mentions of child abuse, child neglect, Aaron Hotchner Needs a Hug, Aaron Hotchner Whump, Teen Hotch, alcoholic mother - I think this is pretty much it, but feel free to let me know if there's any more!
Word Count: 12K (this thing is loooong)
Prompt: Person A is too busy working, even going as far as spending Christmas Eve alone at their office. They end up falling asleep and get visited by a series of ghosts who give them a chance to re-evaluate their actions and right the wrongs of their past. (A Christmas Carol)
Author’s note: The person who sent me this request wished to stay anonymous, so I’m posting this as a text instead of an answer. I’m sorry if this a little too sad, but I thought Hotch deserved some type of background and got a bit carried away. The timeline is a bit wobbly and this hasn’t been beta read, but I’ve spent over a week obsessing over this text and something tells me it is ready to be released into the world. Also, per the request,I’m doing this one as a Fem!Reader.
This is part of my 12 Days of Christmas (100 Followers Celebration, which turned into a 250 followers celebration and now a 300 followers celebration!). Requests are now closed and will reopen at 2022.
Haley Hotchner was dead: to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. The arrangements – which sort of coffin, cremation or burial, where would they have the service – seemed to relate to someone else, some stranger. The register of her burial was signed by the coroner, the forensic pathologist and someone else at the FBI. Aaron Hotchner signed it too.
He’d known nearly immediately, of course. How could it be otherwise? Aaron knew as soon as he walked into their house, his gut telling him the worst possible outcome had come true. As odd as it sounds, part of Aaron was grateful for the pain. Of course, he was absolutely miserable but, in his own way ,he was glad that his ex-wife died first so she didn’t have to feel what he did. As much as it hurt, it was an honor to him to be able to share the best years of their lives together and that she chose him to share them with. And if he thought too hard about what it was like for him in the first couple of years, he was glad that she was spared of that.
On the surface, the man looked and behaved just as usual. Rather, Aaron felt content to find a new sense of resilience. One latches on to any concept that offers hope or comfort. As a trained FBI profiler, Aaron knew that a theory shared by many psychiatric studies of bereavement is that the mind shuts down, so the body will have time to adjust to the new situation.
During her burial and the days that followed, Aaron felt as if he was moving through the rooms like a shadow, and their shared house seemed large and cold and alien. He’d never spent such a long time at the house without Haley. After a couple of weeks, the soft grief, the tears, began to hit. The metaphors – waves, inundation, floods – seemed accurate to him. Grief swallowed him. Whoever he was before her death, was replaced by a melancholic, taciturn, and cautious man. An iron ring was cast around his heart, followed by a heaviness in the chest. It was almost as if his innards had been scooped out – no stomach, heart, or emotions.
Reid once told him that after a year and a half 70 per cent of widows reported significant improvement in their feelings, which offered more hope to Hotch than statements such as “everyone’s grief is different”.
After about a year, Aaron stopped obsessively going over the most horrible week of his life. He once had promised Haley that he’d make sure she and Jack never suffered pain because of his job. And she had suffered great pain, in the end. But after so long of wallowing and going over every moment of that nightmare, in some vain expectation of correcting his mistakes, he had to move on.
Since that fateful night, everything had become about Jack. He had to make their life as normal as possible and see Jack through the hell of their reality with the assurance that he was loved and that both of them would be okay.
After two or three years, he stopped thinking about Haley’s death. Jack was getting better every day, and as he did, Aaron found himself worrying less about his son. He was almost starting to believe that he would be okay. He had a lot of work ahead, but he’d manage.
So, there was no doubt that Haley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come out of this story.
After Haley’s death though, whatever he might have once been, Aaron Hotchner was a different man. He needed to work, not only to survive, but so that he had an identity that he could wear like armor. This new version of himself was working at least 70 hours a week, so much on his plate that early every minute of his day had to be spent in a productive way. He still felt as if he’d lost a limb. But his wound had healed and he’d learned to manage without it.
The old Aaron only had to exist in the precious moments before his head hit the pillow at night or when he was spending time with Jack. It was safer there. At some point, he became hard and sharp as steel, self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold inside him froze his features, brows permanently furrowed, wrinkles adoring his forehead. He carried his own low temperature always about with him, external heat and cold had little influence on Aaron Hotchner. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him.
Once upon a time—of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve— Aaron Hotchner sat busy in his office. The weather was cold and bleak, and he could hear the people in the bullpen going around their day. Reid was stating all the possible facts about Christmas to Morgan, Prentiss was discussing what type of wine to bring to a party with Rossi, JJ had already left to be with her family, Penelope was merrily distributing gingerbread cookies to all of the office and youyou, well, youyou werewere far too busy actually working.
You see, you you arrived at the team just after Hotch returned from his leave, proving yourselfWith a background on forensic analysis, you’d quickly proved to be a useful asset to the team. Not only that, but your work ethic was impressive, probably the only other person in the team who worked as hard as Hotch did.
There was something different about you. Something that made Hotch feel as if he could relax around you, and he felt, slowly, all the walls he’d put up starting to crumble. Spending so many hours together, it was only natural that the two of you grew closer together.
To be completely honest, Aaron’s not even sure when it started. If he had to guess, it might have been during one of the late nights you shared at the office, enjoying the silence. Or it might have been when you started to compliment him on the tiniest of things - Hotch knew you were a profiler, but he didn’t expect anyone on the team to notice whenever he got a haircut or when he tried a different coffee brand than usual. Or maybe it was because you never gave him a look of pity. Maybe sadness, maybe care, never pity. Maybe, just maybe, his feelings started when you knocked on the door to his office with a bag of takeout, starting a secret routine of sharing dinner, chatting about anything and everything at once. Maybe that’s when the familiar feeling sank in. Or maybe it was any of the other small moments in between.
Of course, having felt this way before, he knew exactly what was happening. Sure, you were attractive, it was hard not to notice the way you swayed your hips or how your curves complimented you, but it was more than that. It wasn't a crush or some type of infatuation. It was too similar to what he’d felt all those years ago with Haley. So he couldn’t possibly allow it. Not if it meant to be plagued with the possibility of you getting hurt too. On top of that, the fact that he was your boss just further complicated things. No, he decided, those feelings won’t do. Best to avoid it all together.
So he started to push you away. Trying his best to ignore what his heart craved so badly. Sitting back and watching as you dated despicable man after despicable man. Even if he wanted to give his heart to you, after years of white-knuckling it, his fingers didn’t know how. Anyway, back to our story.
The clock had barely hit four in the afternoon, but it was quite dark already — it had not been light all day. Snow was pouring down so dense that all the other buildings outside of Quantico were mere phantoms. Aaron had come to despise the winter weather. Haley loved the season and the holidays served him as a painful reminder of memories he didn’t want to revisit.
Hotch was divorced from all the antics of lights and decorations, as soon as the leaves announced the beginning of autumn, his moments of abstraction were frequent, and in them it seemed as if his spirit were wandering the paths of another world. He’d only come back to his senses with the beginning of the next year, when the first flowers blossomed with hope of spring.
During the month of December, the BAU had surprisingly little to do. A few cases here and there, but nothing that required more than a couple of days. So, from where he was sitting in his office, he saw that most of the team had already left. You were still typing away at your desk, the only one left at the bullpen. He saw from the corner of his eye how you held your coat closer to your body, the temperature at Quantico making you slightly tremble. Not matter how many times Hotch had told maintenance to come down and fix the thermostat at their floor, his requests had been ignored.
He was so distracted observing you, a luxury he rarely did ever let himself indulge in. He should have been more insistent, you shouldn’t waste your time working that much lest you become like him. He hated how he could see the transformation taking place in you. How your soft eyes now carried a look of disappointment each time you looked at him. He was so absorbed in his task of admiring you that he was caught by surprise by someone entering his office.
“Merry Christmas, Hotch!” cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Penelope Garcia, who was head to toe dressed in red and green, not hiding her enthusiasm for the season.
“Merry Christmas, Garcia.” he said, not looking up from his report. He watched as Penelope left him one of her cookies on his desk as she walked away, one of the last of the team to leave the office.
“Sir, I’ve closed off the bat cave for the day. Some of us will be going to Rossi’s to have a Christmas dinner, you know. Do you maybe want to join us?”
“There’s no need. It’s fine, thank you for worrying about me, Garcia.” he said shortly, and turned away, his attention back to his report.
“Okay, well, never hurts to ask. The invitation still stands, in case you change your mind. Good night then, sir.”
“Good night, Garcia.” he said as he heard her leave his office.
He looked back at the report in his hands. What was he doing? He knew it the team probably suspected he wasn’t as busy as he was pretending to be. But, for some strange reason, the idea of spending Christmas working was more appealing than the idea of spending it with Jack and Jessica. The idea of seeing his sister-in-law, which meant he’d have to face Roy too, would meant facing a painful and familiar feeling and he didn’t wish to spoil the night for anyone else.
“Please, don’t tell me you’re planning on actually working tonight.”
Hotch raised his eyes from his paper as the subject of his affections walked into his office. You were standing at the doorframe, arms crossed, holding the tiniest of packages, wrapped in some sort of shiny paper. Your face sported a concerned but amused look.
“It’s just another day, crimes don’t stop just because it’s a holiday.” he replied.
You observed him, not believing a word he said: “It’s just one night, Aaron, the office will be here tomorrow morning. But I bet Jack would love to have you with him tonight.” He whimpered at the use of his given name, hating how you could read him so effortlessly.
“He’s with Jessica and his grandfather, he’ll be fine. I get New Year’s with him. If I’m working, no one else has to.”
“Aaron, c’mon, you should go spend Christmas Eve with your family just like the rest of us.”
“I have to finish this report.” he turned back to face the papers on his desk. “Besides, I’ve worked during Christmas for the last few years, I really don’t mind.”
“Still, you really shouldn’t spend tonight by yourself. I can give you a ride to Rossi’s if you want. I heard he’s making thirteen different dishes, something about an Italian tradition. You should come.” He could see the expectation on your face. A look he had come to agree that was only reserved to him. After a moment of silence, you continued, suddenly remembering the package you were holding. “I got you a gift, by the way. I hope you like it.”
He wondered what you’d bought him, but decided against opening the gift, putting it inside one of the drawers instead. Anything to avoid letting you know how happy the little gesture made him. “Thank you. For the gift and the invitation. But I’m fine being here. You should go, I’m sure they are waiting for you.” Hotch gave you a small smile, unsure of what to tell you. He couldn’t admit he was at the office to avoid his feelings.
“Okay, never hurts to ask. The invitation still stands, in case you change your mind. Have a good night then, I…” You started, having trouble finding the right words. “Merry Christmas, Aaron.”
“Merry Christmas.” he uttered the words with a stone cold face, almost as if he’d rehearsed them before. Not hiding his guilt, though, he continued: “I’m sorry for turning down the offer, but I really need to finish this.” You seemed to understand his motives, looking down at your feet. He could see your eyes get a bit teary.
“Don’t worry about it.” You spoke softly, offering a gentle smile. He hated how you always did that, always showed sympathy for him. He didn’t deserve it.
And like that, you were gone, your steps echoing in the empty office as you took the elevator. He was now completely alone. Hotch sat there, unsure of what to think. He tried really hard not to feel bad for letting you go.
He really did.
HALEY’S GHOST
Without him noticing, the clock turned to yet a later hour. And so, Hotch decided to pour himself glass of scotch, the taste rich on his tongue, the familiar burn in his chest warming him up as he swallowed a generous gulp. It was much too late for him to drive home, not to mention the snowy road would be a menace to his safety, so he decided to sleep in his office. It was not the first, second, third or, hell, even fourth time he’d done so. Much too familiar with the action, he found himself laying in the sofa inside his office, putting one of the pillows below his head, sleep almost taking over him instantly.
It was then that Aaron noticed a couple of the computers outside his office turning on, the screens illuminating the empty bullpen. This might have lasted half a minute, or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The computers turned off as they turned on, together and all at once. His office door flew open with a booming sound, and then he heard the noise much louder, on the floors below; then coming up the corridor; then coming straight towards his door.
“Who’s there?” He asked, cold gun smoothly drawn from its holster, pointed, and fired up, as if expecting someone to reply. His color changed though, when, without a pause, someone came on through the glass door, and passed into the room before his very eyes.
The same face: the very same. Haley Hotchner stood in front of him.
“I must be delusional…”
“No, you’re not delusional, Aaron.”
“Who are you? Is this some sort of prank? It’s not funny, you know.”
“Ask me who I was.”
“Who were you then?” said Hotch, raising his voice. “You can’t be… I shouldn’t have had so many drinks.”
“In life, I was your ex-wife, Haley.”
“But you’re…”
“I’m dead? That much, Aaron, is, unfortunately true.”
“Can we—can we sit down?” asked Hotch, looking doubtfully at the ghost.
“We can.”
“Do it, then.” Hotch took a moment to observe her more closely. This Haley, staring back at him, looked a bit older. She had more lines on her face, her hair was long enough to tie it up, back to her usual blonde. But, Hotch noticed that, oddly, there was more life in her eyes then than during the last few weeks of her life.
“You don’t believe in me,” observed the Ghost.
“No, I don’t,” said Hotch. He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. He had become insane. Or maybe he was just dreaming. That had to be it. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had to be fast asleep on his office couch, and he would wake up in the morning to see that this whole thing was just some dream. He would wake up, alone on Christmas morning, and go back to work to forget this awful dream.
“After everything you have seen, you still think ghosts are impossible?” Haley’s ghost crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head, a stance that Hotch was very familiar with. The distant memory made the tension leave his body for a bit.
“Okay, let’s say I believe you are actually here for a second and not some vision I’m having…” Curiosity got the better of him. He sighed, dropping his head in his hands. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to warn you, Aaron, that you have yet a chance of living a long and fulfilling life, if you change the course you’re going. A true chance at love and happiness. You just need… a nudge in the right direction.” she quietly said, stroking Aaron’s face gently like she had done so many times during the years they were married.
“Oh, Haley, it’s really you. I’m so sorry.” Tears sprung to his eyes as he recalled their final moments together. He hugged her, burying his face in her shoulder. “I… I am-” The way he had cradled her, quite like he was doing right now “ I…”
“I know, Aaron. And I forgave you for it all, so you could find happiness again.” She held his face in her hands. “But you’re not happy, are you, Aaron? Look at you.”
“No, I am not! How can you expect me to be happy now you’re gone?” he demanded, in a faltering voice.
“You can be, I am sure. And you might not even see it, but you’re so close. You’ve got so much time to live, so much love left to experience, so many more wonderful years ahead of you. Time is the most precious thing in this world and to have shared my life for so long with you is something I am incredibly grateful for. Please tell Jack stories, so he knows how much I love him and how proud of him I will always be.” She smiled at him. Hotch can’t help but feel the hollowness of sadness combined with choking from grief. The price of love.
“You will be haunted,” she resumed, “by Three Spirits. Look at what they show you. Listen to them, please!”
“Is that what you call a nudge in the right direction, Haley?”
“It is.”
“I—I think I’d rather not,” said Hotch.
“Unfortunately, it’s not up you. Expect the first when the clock strikes one.” said Haley’s ghost, her hand touching his cheek one last time. “I loved you so much, but it’s time for you to let me go.”
Tears ran down Aaron’s face. “I’m not sure I know how.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Haley’s ghost smiled, wiping his tears gently with her thumb.
Then she left. Just as she appeared, dissolving into thin air. Aaron blew out a breath he’d been holding in his lungs without realizing it. And being, from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse into the afterlife, or the dull ache he still felt after seeing Haley one more time, Aaron went back to lying on the couch, not even taking off his shoes, and fell asleep upon the instant.
THE FIRST OF THE THREE SPIRITS
When Hotch awoke, it was so dark, that from his office he could scarcely distinguish the rest of the bullpen. He was trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes when he glanced upon the watch in his left hand. It was a quarter past midnight.
The idea being an alarming one, he scrambled out of his office, and groped his way to the door. He rubbed the sleep off his face with the sleeve of his shirt, he could see very little then. Hotch went back to his makeshift bed, and thought, and thought, and thought it over and over and over, and could make nothing of it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was; and the more he endeavored not to think, the more he thought.
Haley’s ghost had bothered him. Every time he resolved within himself, after much inquiry, that it was all a dream, his mind went back again to its first position, and presented the same evidence to be worked all through, “Was it a dream or not?”
He stayed like that until the clock had hit one in the morning, when he remembered, on a sudden, that Haley’s ghost had warned him of a visit. Light flashed up in the room, and the door to his office opened.
The door to his office was opened, I tell you, by a hand. And Hotch, clutching his gun at its holster, found himself face to face with an unearthly visitor: “Tom?”
“Hello, Hotch.”
“Why are you here?” he inquired, even though he already knew the answer to that question. The old man looked just as he did on the last time they saw each other, with the small change being that he was able to breathe - or whatever it was ghosts did - without needing an oxygen tank.
“I am the ghost of Christmas Past.” his voice was singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.
“Of course, you are. So, Shaunessy, where are you taking me?”
“As it usually goes, we shall start at the beginning.” Before Hotch had time to react, the spirit of the older policeman was holding his hand, they passed through the wall, stood upon the FBI building, facing the road below and then leapt out into the night. After a while, the entire city had vanished below them. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground.
They landed on an empty field in rural Virginia. There was a sharp intake of breath from Aaron as he recognized the location. The sky was tinted a purplish gray just as he remembered, the snow falling down the quickest and heaviest it had in a long while.
“It can’t be.” Hotch said. “My old boarding school.”
“Do you remember it?” inquired Shaunessy’s ghost.
“Remember it!” cried Hotch with fervor; “I could walk around here while blindfold.”
They walked along the road, Hotch recognized every post and every tree, until an imposing building appeared in the distance. There was an empty familiarity in the way the school campus was silent during the winter break. Looking forward to the holidays, most of the boys put on their own clothes and packed their bags, shuffling past the school gates to the arms of their waiting parents, vacating the school for the two weeks that separated Christmas from the beginning of the year. Aaron watched all this activity without any obvious sadness or bitterness.
“The school is not quite deserted,” said the Shaunessy’s ghost. “A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left here still.”
Hotch looked to the front of the building, scanning it. Something caught his trained eyes: fresh footsteps in the snow, leading away from the building. And amidst all of it - a young Aaron Hotchner stumbling blindly through the storm, snow over his ankles, head pounding and tears shining in his eyes. The older Hotch remembered exactly how his fingers ached in the winter wind as he clenched and unclenched them, trying to keep the feeling in their tips.
“Do you know why we’re here?” inquired the ghost.
“It’s the year when my father got sick.”
“Were you two ever close?” the ghost prompted.
“My father… He hurt me and not once did he show a single ounce of remorse. Never. My mother… She knew… But she didn’t do anything. Then she had Sean, and we were happy for a while. But when I became a teen, I became more and more difficult because I started to realize that things shouldn’t be like that. That it wasn’t normal for love to hurt the way it did. I rebelled — that's how I coped.” He answered. The image of his poor excuse of a father beating up his mother on the kitchen floor, while his brother cried in his room, played in his mind. Flashes of being beaten, thrown down the stairs, slapped. “So my father decided that I was the problem. I was the screw-up son with an attitude problem. The beatings got more frequent, and the more he tried to correct me the more I lashed out. And mother was… She got me away as soon as she could, I think my mother thought boarding school would give me stability. I just felt as if I must have done something wrong to be sent away. She didn’t stop him, though. Nobody stopped him. He only stopped when he died.”
“Are we here because that’s when he died, then?”
“No, not yet, at least. You see, he’d been having all those symptoms for years but he didn’t do anything because of his pride. No, this, right here, it was the Christmas I spent at school.”
“A happy memory, then?”
“Yes.”
In fact, he remembered being glad to spend the holidays far away from home. Of course, he’d struggled when he first got to the school. The first night away, he sobbed in the small, unfamiliar bed. Aaron had just turned sixteen when his mother sent him away. He thought his mother, at least, loved him, so for her to leave as if Aaron held no importance to her at all. It had hurt. But as she said goodbye he felt a strange sense of relief. The school was the ideal setting for him to hit the “reset” button.
There were paddocks with sheep in them on the actual school grounds. There were woods next to the school pool. The school chapel was quaint, with roses growing up the exterior. It was different from what he was used to, but he quickly settled into the routine. It’s funny how you can adapt when you don’t have much of a choice. The school fostered organization; its surroundings provided a sense of peace; and its people offered engagement and a sense of belonging. Every day at home was unpredictable and ghastly. Rules that were enforced one day, don’t apply on the next day. Promises were neither kept nor remembered. At school, though, things seemed to always remain the same. Aaron finally felt like he had a place to call home. He found a new way to cope: by taking on lots of responsibility and putting up a competent front for others.
As Hotch, the older one, that is, reminisced about his childhood, his teenage self was huffing and puffing about, mumbling something to himself, a letter in his hands. Both men walked closer to where the teen was, trying to get a better view of what was going on.
“You don’t seem that happy.” Shaunessy’s ghost teased.
“Well, I mean, of course, I felt lonely and left behind. But when wasn't I lonely? At least I was in peace. Besides, I had nowhere else to go, so the matter was decided.”
“Doesn’t look very peaceful to me.”
It was sad, perhaps, but that was the way it had always been for Hotch by then. Before he could explain anything else, though, the silence of the scene was shortly interrupted by another boy running up to meet them. He was shorter than Aaron, his round face adorned by a pair of similarly rounded glasses and blonde hair. His cheeks were red, partly because of the weather, partly from running.
“Hotchner, where are you going?” exclaimed the younger boy, trying to catch up with him. The older Aaron took a few steps to get closer to unfolding scene, only to confirm he wasn’t seeing things.
“It’s Richard Wilkins!” The older Hotchner exclaimed, a smile on his face like never before. “He was one of my closest friends as a boy.”
“What the hell does it look like I'm doing?” The young Aaron retorted, stopping just for a moment to wipe the dark hair out of his face before continuing to walk.
“It looks like you’re sulking, or something, I don’t know. But you’re not wearing enough layers to go out in this weather. You’ll catch a cold, or pneumonia, or hypothermia. Or worse, you’ll get both of us expelled!” The boy reasoned, earning a scoff from the young Hotch.
“Why do you care anyway, Wilkins?” Aaron asked, like a moody child, without turning, still holding the letter in his hand. He surely carried the weight of the world on his shoulders at that moment. Snow flew in the courtyard and the wind blew it back.
“Didn't you hear? There's going to be a blizzard!”
Hotch did hear, the professors had been grumbling about it all week about it, complaining they might not make it home before the storm hit the town, afraid they might get stuck in the roads during the worst of it. He didn’t care. The cold made him feel alive.
“Listen, you can’t stay out here like that. You’ll freeze to death” Wilkins spoke softly.
“You don’t understand! No one does!” Suddenly young Aaron crumpled up the letter in his hand and threw it into a ball. Wilkins bent down to take it. He glanced down at it, scanning the text quickly.
“Wow, you must be sad about your dad…” Wilkins is giving Hotch a sad look, but he doesn’t say anything more about it.
“What? No! I feel nothing for that man. It’s just… I can’t believe he gets to ruin my Christmas even from afar.” the older teen practically growled. Aaron was tempted to tell Richie how he had wished for his father’s death. He had prayed about it more than a couple times and even wrote a letter to Santa when he was younger.
“I know the feeling, my parents are dead and they seem to have that power too.” Wilkins agreed. And Hotch immediately felt like shit, because at least he had a mother to go home to. Even if she was not the best, at least she was alive. “I’m sorry to hear that.“
“It’s alright. There’s no way you could possibly know. By the way, I came here because I was supposed to tell you that Father Jones and a couple of other kids are decorating the school, we’re having a Christmas party at the dining hall tonight.”
“I didn’t realize there was anyone else here for break.” Aaron looked down at his feet and rubbed his hand through his hair.
“There’s a few of us. You want to come?”
“Fine. But I’m not celebrating anything tonight.”
“Your loss. I heard there’s going to be an actual dinner tonight. Not the usual grub we are served, actual real food. Heard they even went to the city to buy some stuff. If you don’t want it, you’re out of luck. More for me, then.”
“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. Maybe I’ll try to enjoy it for a while.”
And with that, the boys walked back into the school, together, talking about their plans for the evening. Hotch felt his heart swell once again in hearing the laughter emitting from his child self and his friend while they joked with each other.
He saw how they entered the school, quickly being called by one of the older kids to help set up the lights. The boys spent the whole afternoon decorating, eating and enjoying each other’s company.
"You had a few Christmases with this guy?” Shaunessy asked, with the authority of someone who had seen every Christmas.
“Not really. For a while, we were best friends. But then my father died and my mother asked me to come back home.”
“You loved each other deeply.”
“I suppose we did. It’s stupid but… That little Christmas dinner, it meant everything to me.”
The scene faded was replaced by another wintry day. Now, instead of the old school building, they were in a nice residential street. The lawns were decorated with lights and reindeer and Santa Clauses. All of them, except one.
"Where are we now?"
“Another Christmas when you're a bit older. Another time and another place but one that had a huge impact on making you who you are now."
The boy that walked around the corner on this day was a few years older, barely turned into a man. He still had the same dark hair as before, but this time, tears ran unchecked down his face.
"No, I don't want to see this." said the real Aaron to the ghost.
“I’m sorry, Hotch, I know how you feel about this whole thing but you need to see it.”
He knew immediately what Christmas this was. It was the year when Aaron came home from college. After being isolated from the outside world for most of his life, he now had exams to study, a loving girlfriend and a future to look up to. Finally, he was normal. He clawed his way to have the life he deserved.
Coming back hadn’t been easy, but Haley had convinced him it was the right thing to do. He knew the old man couldn’t hurt him now. But dealing with his mother was hard. His mother, having come from a broken and somewhat dysfunctional home, was culpable in different ways. She had embraced the view that his father was trying his best to help them and how Hotch was always ruining everything for them. So now, when the old horrible man was already lying six feet under, his mother was already halfway to becoming a functioning alcoholic, minus the 'functioning' part.
As he thought about having to see his family, he started to lose sleep. It was his mind’s way of telling him that this was a bad idea. His body would always tell him when something wasn’t right. He’d ‘feel it’ in his bones. Maybe that’s why he was so good at his job. But he had to go home. Not for his mother, but for Sean.
Thinking of his brother, Aaron made it home for the annual roller-coaster ride of the holidays. But Sean had missed out on having a brother for a while there, and now Aaron had come home after five years to find his little brother wasn't the person he left behind. His brother had witnessed as their father health declined and how their mother’s drinking spiraled out of control. He’d never known his father’s wrath, but Sean had known up close how mentally and physically their mother had become. How mean she’d been to the people who loved her the most. How angry. When he got inside the house from the airport, it was silent, cold and tomb-like. He couldn't wait to leave.
On that Christmas Day, events had unfolded as they often did — just another day of the year when they had to tip toe around on egg shells and do everything in our power not to address the elephant in the room: mother’s drinking. The menu for the day apparently was booze for breakfast, lunch, dinner and scotch all the way to bed.
Sean fled to his room as their mother took her third or fourth drink. Aaron knew the feeling of unease all too well. He’d spent the year at university with a written eulogy in his back pocket, waiting for the moment he’d get the call about his mother being dead and hoping that it wouldn’t happen.
So now, as the past and present Aaron Hotchner stood in the street, Hotch, the older one, was already bracing himself for impact. He knew exactly what scene would unfold.
As the younger version of himself stood there, crying, he could see little nine-year-old Sean Hotchner walk up to him, his pajamas a bit too short, a side effect of not having enough money to spend on such things, his hair a mess as per usual. The two brothers sat by each others side in the sidewalk. Like any good children in a broken home, every year they hoped that Christmas would be different, and every year it was the same, except a little worse.
“Is mom going to be okay?” Sean’s small voice asked. Of all the questions Aaron avoided, that one was the hardest.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” He thought back to his mother passed away on her bedroom, the plans for a family dinner long forgotten. Better than to be at found tomorrow morning at a ditch somewhere, on some strangers' house or in the police station.
“Is- Is Santa real?”
“What? No, of course not.” Aaron didn’t even try to hide the sound (something between a laugh and a scoff) that escaped him. “Why are you even asking me this?”
“I… I asked Santa for a nice Christmas dinner this year.” As his brother confessed, he saw the tears on Sean’s face that he was trying to hide.
“Sean… Listen, this is not gonna happen, but it’s not your fault.” Aaron answered. “This is her problem. It is not your job to fix it. It is your job to get on with your life.”
“You say that but you’re the reason our family is like this in the first place. Mom always says you’ve always been a liar. If…” Sean said between sobs. “If you hadn’t been so ungrateful, dad wouldn’t have sent you to boarding school and he’d still be alive and mom wouldn’t be sick!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Aaron hissed. Was his brother angry at him? He was dumbstruck. It simply hadn't occurred to him that Sean would place the blame for all of the family’s problems on him. How could it be that his younger brother’s view of their family was utterly different from his? It was pretty ironic, given the givens. But it made sense, as far as Sean was concerned, if one person could just leave, who was going to disappear next?
“Yes, I do! Why did you leave me? You promised you’d take me with you. Remember?” Sean looked at his older brother, the same look he used to give him when they were younger and fighting. “You didn’t just leave our parents behind. You left me too!”
Aaron cringed - he knew he only had himself to blame for that. It was his fault anyway. Of course it was. But what was he supposed to do? He had no idea how to take care of a child, no financial stability, no place for Sean to sleep. He was just a broke college student.
“I’m sorry, Hotch, I know how you feel about this whole thing.” Shanuessy’s ghost reminded the real Hotch this was just a replay of something he’d already lived through. “It’s not your fault. Sean was just a kid, who was in desperate need of a parental figure. Remind you of anyone?"
“Jack.”
“That’s right.
Overcome with great sadness for the fellow, Tom Shaunessy’s ghost sadly placed a comforting hand on Hotch’s shoulder while he teared up. He stared at the man in pity. “Poor guy. No wonder you’re like that.” Shaunessy’s ghost murmured inaudibly before a final flash from the watch enveloped them and sent Hotch back to the empty office of the BAU…
THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS
Hotch gasped and woke up with a start, madly twisting his head from left to right in trying to see his surroundings. It was his office, just as he’d left it moments ago.
It hurt to remember those events. They had been locked away in his mind for years. He made a pact with himself, there and then, to never let anything like that happen with Jack. Knowing his son was probably sleep by now, he made a mental note of never again leaving him alone during the holidays. Then, his mind rushes to the other person he can think might needed his company during the holidays.
“Sean…”
Hotch quickly grabs hims phone, staring at the light up screen. His tired eyes have no trouble typing the number, something he’s had to do a handful of times during the years.
He waited nervously for Sean to accept his call. He hadn’t seen his brother in almost five months, much less talked to him. The only contact they’d had were a couple of short messages, nothing really relevant. The phone ringed for a couple of minutes, no answer. Realizing the time must mean that his brother was fast asleep, or, more likely, in some random bar drinking the night away, Hotch decided the phone call would have to take place the next morning.
It was an hour later by this point and Aaron didn't need any convincing to know that there would indeed be another visitor at two. Expecting to see the next Spirit, he was surprised when there was no one there.
His mind wandered back to his colleagues. Did they resent him for being so closed off lately? He thought about you and the forgiveness that had come so easily when he turned down the invitation for the party, even though he knew you must have been hurt.
Then there was the look, the one you had reserved just for him, the one you had shared so many nights together at the office. Was it an expression of affection? Maybe it was more than affection. Anyway, that look frightened him. Because if it meant what he thought it did, there were so many things that could go wrong.
At ten past two, Hotch finally realized that there was light slipping into his office through the space beneath the door. He thought that it might have been there for some time, actually.
He stood up and opened the door, finding the bullpen as empty as it was before. But, upon further inspection, he could see that the source of this ghostly light might be in the conference room, from where it seemed to shine. This idea taking full possession of his mind, he got up softly and shuffled to the door.
The moment Hotch’s hand was on the lock, a familiar voice called him by his name, and told him to open the door. He obeyed.
“This can’t be right…” he mumbled, as he turned on the lights in the room. “Jason? What are you doing here?” He blinked a few times to try to focus harder, but that did nothing to clear the situation up. If anything, he was more confused than before.
“I am the spirit of Christmas present." answered the figure of his former colleague, masquerading as a spirit on one of the strangest nights Hotch’s had in recent memory.
“Wait a second, you’re not dead, are you?” He worried.
“Well, if you bothered to call me once in awhile, you’d know the answer to that.” The spirit of Jason Gideon smiled. “But no, I am not dead. I’m only here for Christmas day.”
Hotch crosses his arms, knitting his brows. “So you’re supposed to show me the present, I take it?”
“Exactly. You’re finally catching up, good.”
“Does that mean we’re staying here?”
“No.” Gideon’s laugh reminding Hotch how he’d missed his former colleague. Even if they weren’t too close, he was nice to have around. “We are going somewhere. It’s not far, though. Ready?”
Hotch nodded and allowed Gideon to guide them into the night. Unsurprisingly, they remained in D.C., going straight to David Rossi’s house. The house was, of course, beautifully decorated. Strands of tinsel and garland wrapped around the columns in the entrance, string lights by the windows, casting a warm glow to the whole house.
"Shall we have a look inside? Something smells good." Hotch sniffed the air, the smell made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. The smell was even better once they were inside.
The table, decorated with branches of holly and ivy, indicated the meal had already been served. Knowing David, there here had been a nice starter and plenty of main courses. By then, though, the table was filled with various deserts, so much that Hotch knew for a fact that most of the team had to sit down for a while, too full to move. He started to seriously consider that Rossi should quit the BAU and open up his own restaurant, so delicious the food looked. He was quick at counting, enough that he quickly saw there was a place set for him as there always had been, every year. A place he had yet to fill since Haley’s death.
The living room was filled with laughter, a roaring fire in the fireplace and music playing - he thought for a moment that it sounded like Andrea Bocelli’s voice - in the background.
On the corner, a very large, way bigger than necessary, Christmas tree stood, piles upon piles of gifts at its feet. From across the room, David Rossi, raised his glass with warm eyes casting upon everyone.
"This calls for the yearly toast, you all! For a lovely Christmas this year!"
Emily joined in. “Dave’s right!" She agreed cheerfully. "Plus it's never a proper Christmas without a toast to somebody!"
"Exactly!" Derek agreed.
"That's right!" said JJ.
"Oh that's a great idea, let's do it." Garcia tipped her head. "Now who are we going to toast for tonight's Christmas?" The team looked at each other in wondering for suggestions until Reid piped up excitedly.
"Oh! I know who we should toast!" The six pairs of eyes focused upon the doctor in eagerness. But then nothing prepared Aaron for what next came from the boy's mouth: "Let's give a toast for Hotch!”
Why was a sense of guilt beginning to work its way into his body? He had no reason to feel guilty. Right?
“I agree, he’s done so much for all of us.” you said, walking back from the kitchen. Hotch took a moment to take you all in. The way the red dress you had changed into hugged you in all the right ways. His eyes never left your face, his attention was purely yours.
“Christmas is a time for joy isn't it? Everyone deserves a little cheer for Christmas! Specially Hotch.” you shrugged, giving a practiced fake smile. What was going on with you? He knew you loved Christmas.
Everyone gave out whoops and cheers of agreement and seconds later, all the hands enclosed around their glasses of prosecco. Derek gave Rossi a nod and the latter raised his glass, beginning the toast. "A toast, to our unit chief Aaron Hotchner. May the spirit of Christmas be with him!"
"To Hotch!”
After the impromptu toast, Aaron could see most of the team had begun drifting towards the makeshift dance floor. Derek and Penelope swaying close together, Spencer and Emily having fun doing silly dances with JJ in-between. Since it was Christmas, there was a lot singing as well. All of them except for Dave, who walked to the kitchen, no doubt starting to clean up a bit. And you.
“Hey guys?” You piped up softly, as you slipped away from the rest of the party. “I’ll be right back.”
He could see how you swiped the bottle of champagne off the table and stalked away. Hotch couldn't stop his own feet, feeling compelled to be near you even though he was supposed to be merely an observer in this scene.
You quietly walked out of the house, sitting down in the steps leading out to the patio, even if they were mostly covered in snow. You finished the champagne in your flute, then started drinking straight from the bottle.
You’d left the door open a crack so that, theoretically, anyone could come in if they wanted to, and Hotch wished he was actually there to tell you to come back inside, lest you catch a cold.
After looking back to make sure no one had followed you, you did something he never would expect. At first, some tears started rolling down your face, as you desperately tried to blink them away. But after failing at holding back a sob, you openly burst into tears. Hotch was taken by surprise. Why were you sad?
“Hey kiddo, what are you doing out here?” Aaron’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, and he saw Rossi walking up to you out of the corner of his eye. “It’s freezing out here.” He said, putting a blanket over your shoulders.
“I’m just getting some air.” You answered, giving him a friendly nod, not willing to move despite the company. You tried to wipe your tears away, plastering a small smile on your face.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing.” You said, shaking your head. "I'm really not good company right now…”
“It’s because of Hotch, isn’t it?”
Hotch felt so horrible, so ungrateful. Maybe that’s why all this was happening: the world was trying to punish him for being this way. And he couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it.
“Take me home.” He told the Spirit, feeling awful. “We’re done here.”
“We’re not.” Gideon shook his head. “You need to see this.”
“No, I don’t.” Hotch whispered, on the edge of having a breakdown as he didn’t want this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He really shouldn’t be listening to a private conversation between you and Rossi, but Hotch couldn’t help but wanting to hear more.
You sighed, knowing the look in David’s eyes all too well. The pity. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend to care,” you murmured.
“Please, we all do care about you. Some more than you’d imagine. Just tell me what it’s going on.”
“Sorry, I’m just having a really bad time wrapping my mind around how he’s been acting lately.” You paused, before letting out a heavy sigh and beginning. “I know I have no reason to feel hurt, but I just can’t shake the feeling that I must have done something wrong, to push him away.”
“C’mon, you must know why he’s been acting like that. You’re a profiler, after all.”
“I mean, I know the holidays can be stressful, so I figured that was it. But surely not enough for him to be gutted all day and chose to spend it alone at the office. What do you think is upsetting him?”
“Are you serious?” Rossi sputtered, before seeing the look you gave him. “Well, it’s been like that every December…” Rossi started. “Ever since Haley’s death. You know he doesn’t really like to talk much about it.”
“Oh, God, I’m an idiot.” You sobbed, feeling like the most selfish fool on the planet. “I’ve been making this up to be about me when Hotch is out there dealing with his grief over his ex-wife.”
“When were you going to tell him?” Rossi asked, obviously trying not to smirk.
"I'm... I'm sorry?"
“I might not have been successful with my marriages, but I know love when I see it. So, when were you going to tell Hotch how you felt about him?”
“I wasn’t planning on telling him. He’s dealing with so much, the last thing he needs is a coworker with a stupid unrequited crush on him.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s unrequited.” Of course, David Rossi would know all about Hotch’s feelings before even himself did. “Let me guess: something about him being you boss, something about you being afraid to ruin things, yada yada.” Rossi said, raising his eyebrows at you.
“Guilty as charged.” You held up your hands in surrender. “But I can’t, Rossi. I’m too much of a coward to tell him how I feel. Honestly, I think it would be best if I could put my feelings aside… Why can’t I stop?”
Hotch practically collapsed as you said this. His knees gave in and he had to make an effort to keep standing. He couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open. He wasn’t sure what knocked the wind out of him more - your confession of love or the deep anguish in your voice. It was so obvious to him now.
“The heart wants what it wants, kiddo.” Rossi stated. As simple as that.
“The funny thing is I know Hotch would handle it gracefully. He’d reject me with kindness. He has such a good heart and he can be so thoughtful. I don’t know why he tries to hide it.” You said, sounding wistful and sad. “I don’t know what to do, Dave.”
“Did you not hear anything I said? You should tell him how you feel, that’s what you should do.” David stood up, brushing the snow off his pants. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll get everything to make up the couch. You shouldn’t drive in such state.”
“I’m fine, Dave.”
“Nonsense.” Rossi spoke as gently as possible.
You gave a faint smile, wrapping the blanket tightly around you. “Thank you, Dave. For the blanket and for caring enough to listen…”
“You're welcome" Rossi smiled. “Alright I gotta circulate, catch you later.”
As you stood there catching your breath, Hotch looked to Gideon, who smiled, the same face he used to have whenever the team reached a conclusion long after him.
“What is this, pity? You feel sorry for me, so you’re showing me what I want to hear?”
“No. Of course not. I have no control over what you’re seeing. Everything is true.”
“Why did you show me this, then?” Hotch’s voice trembled.
“Because you deserve to know the truth. Maybe knowing she returns your affection will help you act on your feelings.”
“She never told me she felt like that.” Hotch tried to defend himself, as Gideon’s spirit began to walk away. He caught up quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I had no idea, I swear.”
“Why are you so scared of being happy?” Gideon asked him. Hotch’s breath quickened and he looked away, not sure if he had an actual answer.
“Because I… I don’t deserve to be.” Maybe, it was because, deep inside, he was convinced that admitting how he was in love with you would be a crime. An act so selfish, preventing you from meeting whatever better man you might have found if he hadn’t stepped in. Forget that - it would be the most narcissistic thing he had ever done. Because if he had you, he’d never let you go.
“Oh, Hotch, you always were so harsh on yourself. You deny so much of yourself, hoping it will cure things faster. But it doesn’t work, does it? No. The only way that we can find happiness and peace is if we throw ourselves out into the open. Do it. Throw yourself. Do not attempt to feel nothing so as not to feel anything.”
The shorter man looked up at the him, trying to read the expression and thoughts of the man before him. Hotch felt like the answers to a thousand questions had been answered yet more had appeared in their place. Was he really wasting the opportunity of being happy with you just because he was afraid?
“I’m afraid our time is up. I hope for your sake you’ve truly paid attention. The next ghost won’t be so kind. If you listen to any of us tonight, listen to him.”
Suddenly, everything went black and Hotch was back at Quantico, sitting in his couch. Gideon had left him with a warning. What was the last ghost going to show him?
He remembered the gift you’d given him. What was it? He supposed he might as well open it and see. He opened the box, only to find a pair of tickets for an live orchestral presentation of The Beatles White Album. He flipped them over, then back again. Of course you’ve bought them. The perfect gift. There was two tickets, though. Had you intended for the two of you to go together? He quickly saw that the box also had a note, written in your calligraphy.
Dear Hotch,
John Lennon wrote that we need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. I hope this holiday season you find the strength and healing we all need in our line of work. Without you, this team would not be called a family. You complete our lives. Thanks for your support, guidance, and care.
Merry Christmas xx
THE LAST OF THE THREE SPIRITS
Before he had time to react, the clock struck three in the morning.
Hotch looked about for the ghost, but he didn’t see it. He then decided to lift his eyes, and there it were the ghost, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him.
Approaching the figure, his gait began to falter as he saw that a deep black garment concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. No. No no no. This couldn’t be the third spirit. He felt a chill course through his spine.
“Are you the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?”
The ghost didn’t reply, but it simply nodded.
“You are here to show me my future, I presume.” The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.
The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Scrooge followed in the shadow of its dress, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along.
The ghost walked up to the mural at the entrance of the BAU, right next to the elevators, where the wall of honor where there was pictures of all the fallen agents. He saw Anderson and an intern he didn’t recognize, probably from another floor. Anderson was putting a new photo in the wall, but Hotch couldn’t see it from where he was standing.
“No,” said Anderson, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know much about it, either way. I only know he’s dead.”
“When did he die?” inquired the intern.
“Last night, I believe.” He replied as he wiped beneath his eye with his knuckles.
“Why, what was the matter with him?” asked Gina Sharp, stopping by the two of them. “I thought he’d never die.”
“God knows,” said Anderson.
“What about the Behavioral Analysis Unit?” asked the intern.
“I haven’t heard yet, but they will find someone to replace him.” said Anderson again. “Maybe Rossi will take over, perhaps. Or maybe Prentiss. No one has notified me. That’s all I know.”
“It’ll likely be a very cheap funeral,” said Gina. “I heard he didn’t leave any family behind.”
“Just his son, Jack, and a brother, I think.” answered Anderson.
The group quickly dispersed, going back to their jobs. Hotch knew them, and looked towards the ghost for an explanation.
The ghost glided on into the bullpen. Its finger pointed to Hotch’s office. Hotch walked up to his door, listening again, thinking that the explanation might lie here.
He looked around to find Emily sitting in his chair, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the office. It didn’t surprise him, he supposed one day he’d eventually retire, opting for going back to practicing law or only sticking to teaching negotiation techniques at the Academy. Emily looked tired, purpling bags forming under her eyes and at least a handful of grey hairs on her head.
She quickly stood up, walking past Aaron and the ghost and going up to David’s office. “We’ve got a new case, a child abduction. So far, only one victim, but seeing as we are short two pair of hands now I really need you to go. Are you okay with that?” Emily started and David looked up, and she returned his gaze with a gentle calmness.
“Sure. It’s what he’d have wanted.” Rossi replied, hiding a few stray tears. “One last rodeo, then. Next week will be my last with the team.”
Emily turned to face the rest of the team: “Conference room in five.” she called to the bullpen, a hush falling over the office as everyone paused to listen.
And like that, all of the familiar faces were moving slowly, Prentiss, Morgan and JJ found their way to the conference room.
Garcia was wearing all black, a sight never seen before at the office, not masking the pain in her eyes. Reid followed soon behind her, hunching as he walked, as if folding in on himself. Hotch noticed there was no sign of you. He looked over to the ghost, who stood still. He supposed he still needed to hear whatever was about to happen.
In the conference room, two chairs remained empty. “I just can’t believe it.” said JJ.
“I know, to think if I had stopped by his office, if I had insisted that he should join us for the party, and now…” Garcia said, breaking off in another round of sobs, and Hotch could feel his heart tearing to pieces. What happened to his team?
“You don’t have to tell me, baby girl.” Derek said, sounding sympathetic. “None of us saw it coming until it was too late to stop it.”
“So, have all of you given some thought to what we discussed? Sabbaticals, transfers, reassignments. All of you have options if you chose to no longer be part of the unit.”
A chorus of yes was heard around the room.
Rossi stood up: “I have told you all, I’m choosing to go back into retirement. After… after all that happened, I’m not ready to go back into the field.”
“Of course.” JJ said. “I’ll be taking a sabbatical to be with my family, I think it’s something important for me.”
As she said, this, you appeared at the room. Hotch had never seen you like this, wearing an old t-shirt from the FBI Academy and sweatpants. “I’m sorry for being so late.”
“It’s okay, we all understand.” Emily said.
As the photos of the next case were being shown, Hotch turned to the ghost. “I don’t understand. What has happened?” he demanded. “Why are you showing me this? Who is the person they’re talking about? Am I in danger of sharing his fate? Of losing everything? Is that it?”
Nothing. Instead, the spirit turned back toward the doorway, Hotch falling into step behind it, and followed it through to the unknown. The scene around them changed and Hotch found himself standing in an open field.
The spirit was as silent as ever. Hotch followed it as they reached an iron gate. He paused to look round before entering. A graveyard. The ground was covered in snow, but he could see it was overrun by grass and weeds, the growth of vegetation’s death, not life.
His mind quickly jumped to conclusions. Oh, no. He looked at the ghost for an explanation. The spirit was standing among the graves, and pointed down to one in particular. Hotch felt the blood in his veins turn into ice.
Aaron sank to his knees, one hand coming up to brush away the layer of snow that had blown up against it. “Aaron Joseph Hotchner. Father, brother, and friend. 1970-2018. Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity.”
“No…” he moaned. “No… it can’t be. It’s not supposed to be like this, it can’t be like this!” Choking back a second sob, he rested his head against the marble.
“Who are you?!” he demanded, anger and panic and anguish bubbling up in his chest and threatening to drown him. “Only cowards hide their faces, so remove your helmet and show me your face!”
The ghost watched him silently. Taking off its hood, Aaron Hotchner felt all the air leave out his lungs as he looked at his very own face.
“No, it can’t be. How can you be me?!”
“I’m not you.” the ghost said in a voice that sounded too much like his. “I’m the Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come. I’m here to show you the future consequences of your actions.” The face before Hotch was a blank mask as he delivered his prophecy. No emotion, no inflection, the effect reminding him too much of the day where George Foyet appeared in his apartment.
“Wait!” he yelled, “ Wait! This is not how my life it’s supposed to end! Let me put things right!” but the fog was growing thicker, obscuring the spirit from view. He was running, lungs burning in the cold air as he rushed through the cemetery.
He faltered, falling into his knees, sobs overtaking him. He collapsed, as his surroundings changed once again. Instantly, he was back at the office.
THE END OF IT
Yes! He was back at his makeshift bed, in his empty office and he was the happiest he’d ever been. Not knowing what hour it was, he walked into the bullpen and was now standing there: perfectly winded.
"I don't know what day of the month it is," said Hotch. "I don't know how long I have been among the Spirits. I don't know"
Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. The sun shined bright outside, the air was clear and cold, he could fill the blood pumping through his veins. Best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own, to make amends in!
He walked into the corridor, bumping with Anderson, who carried a pile of files. “What’s today?” Hotch asked.
"Eh?" returned Anderson, very confused. If there was one person he could always count on to know the day, it was Agent Anderson.
"What's today?" repeated Hotch, with such a happy mood he could not remember the last time he had felt this happy.
“Well, it’s Christmas Day."
"Christmas Day! Thank you, Anderson. You can have the full holiday off, spend however you want.” Hotch smiled.
"Are you serious?"
“Yes! Go, go, I’ll take care of things around here.” he ushered the younger man out the door. "I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course, they can. Of course, they can." said Hotch to himself. Turning back and rushing back to his office, he slammed the door behind him. He threw himself into his couch and starred at the clock. It was just past 8 in the morning. He felt too wired to try and sleep, even though he was sure he hadn’t slept at all that night.
“My brother.” he exclaimed, frantically looking for his phone. The device light up, and he saw there were a couple of missed calls.
After talking to his brother, which was “fine, thank you very much, are you sure you’re okay, Aaron?” and making sure Jack was having a great time with his grandfather and aunt - even asking if he could stay there another day, he stood at his desk, not sure what else to do.
Apologies didn’t seem fitting to be said over the phone. You needed to know how much you meant to him, in person.
Rossi wasn’t sure what surprised him most: that it was Hotch knocking at his door just as brunch began, or that he had a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
Now that he was face to face with the older agent, he wasn’t sure what to do, looking slightly abashed.
“Good morning, Dave. Does the invite still stand? I thought about it, and I…” he took a deep breath. “I’d really like to celebrate with you guys for a while, if that’s okay.”
“I see no reason why not. You’re part of the team, after all.” Rossi said, pulling Aaron into a backslapping hug. “Just keep it quiet, okay? Things got a bit carried away in the alcohol department last night.”
“Sure, you won’t even hear my presence.”
“Don’t overdo it, Aaron.” Rossi said, beckoning him into the house.
You suddenly appeared, hair a complete mess and mascara blurred. You looked perfect in Hotch’s opinion. He eyed you in your red dress, smiling to himself as if were part of an inside joke.
“Hotch? Is everything alright? Have we got a case?” you asked, stifling a yawn. He couldn’t help but giggle. Aaron Hotchner actually giggled.
He drew the bouquet from behind his back, holding them up as one did in a romantic comedy. “Hi,” he exhaled, giving you a boyish smile. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” you returned automatically, then looked up at him in confusion. “Is that for… me?”
“Yes, I didn’t know what kind of flower you wanted, so I just got a bunch of them.” He looked up at you with wonder in his eyes, and you felt like the air had been knocked out of you.
You laughed and thanked him, but something still plagued you. “Hotch?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you here?” His eyes softened a bit, and he looked at you once more. Then, something new flickered across his face. Determination. He met your eyes.
“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I have to be completely honest with you. I can’t keep denying what I’m feeling.”
“And what is that?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.
“That I’m in love with you.” he said.
“You love me?” You asked.
“I do. And I know it’s wrong, I’m your boss, we work together. But I can’t help how I feel. And I know I have the worst possible timing in the world but-“ You shut him up with your lips. Hotch was caught by surprise but you felt him relax as you brought your hands up to his neck.
He pulled away to catch his breath, looking deep into your eyes. “You’re beautiful in the morning, you know that?”
“You’re a tease, Aaron Hotchner.” you laughed. “And I’m in love with you too.”
“So, what do you say about going to that concert with me?”
“I’d like that. I’ve…wanted that from you for a while. Took you long enough.”
“I know. But you mean so much to me, I’m hoping to make up for it.”
“You better.” you smiled again, that same little smile that was reserved for him, and he felt a pleased flush of warmth this time, spreading from his middle outward to his extremities, “but what brought all this on?”
Aaron huffed and pressed his forehead to yours. “Let’s just say I had some… interesting visitors last night.”
The two pressed together in a kiss, full of promises and potential. In the background, the BAU team cheered, for once in his life, Aaron Hotchner had a real shot at long-lasting happiness.
THE END
#cat writes#12 days of christmas#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner angst#tw: childhood trauma#tw: alcohol#cw: mentions of violence#cw: child neglect#aaron hotchner needs a hug#angst with happy ending#inspired by a christmas carol#past haley brooks x aaron hotchner
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How about companions finding out that gender neutral sole is an ex-courser?
I hope you have fun with this! I super love your blog!
I loved this one ngl❤
Ex-Courser Sole
Maccready
"Gotta be honest I'm not sure I understand the whole synth thing... Are you a person or a machine....or both?"
after sole explains it to him it'd make a bit more sense... They were more like a clone? Just with a chip in their head?.... Weird. Either way they were his buddy and the way he saw it they both just had shitty past employers that made them do awful things so they left for good an are putting the past behind them.... In that way they really weren't that different.
Hancock
"Well I'll be damned... You really made it out huh? Had to be one hell of a stunt to pull that off"
Hancock is all for sticking it to the man so once he finds out about soles past he'd be even more impressed by them. Safe to say that's a story he definitely wants to hear... drinks on him.
Cait
"Yer a death machine? Christ sake no wonder you're so tough"
A lot of things clicked into place when they told her. I mean she was wondering how they were so much better than her... guess it makes sense that they've got a built in advantage....
Danse (Post Blind Betrayal)
"Is that why you showed me so much compassion when you found out what I am? Wait- for months you heard me talk about how synths were an abomination, and the perfect example of technology gone awry and yet you still stood by my side.... Why? ....I- I think I need a moment."
If what sole is saying is the truth their an even bigger person that Danse already though them to be. If he had known before he found out his true identity he would have shot them on sight... and they knew that and chose to help him? He'd respect them even more and hope to be more like them... they put up with him at his worst and he'd be damned if he didn't become his best for them.... No because of them
Curie
"That is so awful sole! I'm glad you are alright now."
How awful! She rembers what it was like to be trapped in vault 81 she can't even imagine being trapped by orders and commands to do such horrible things!
Deacon
"Damn talk about a 180....Guess thats why you wanna help so many synths huh? Got any juicy gossip from the inside thats worth knowing?"
Let's be real he already knew long before they joined the railroad, but was hoping sole would tell him. Deacon definitely thinks sole is totally badass and probably has a high level of respect for them.
Piper
"Damn.... it had to be hard to leave huh? Anything you rember could be super helpful in the battle against the institute, but I understand if you need time..."
She is hoping to get an interview with them at some point, but she also wants to put their safety and comfort above the needs of the press....
Nick
"So we're both a bunch of institute rejects huh? Bet diamond city would be thrilled heh....."
He feels even closer to sole after they tell him. I mean he had a hunch, but he's glad they trusted him enough to tell him.
Preston
"Wow... Glad your on our side general..."
He'd be a little scared of them for a while after they told him... That is before he rembers all the things they've done for him and snaps out of it. On the brightside the minutemen now have the strongest leader in history so safe to say Preston I'd thrilled.
X6-88
"Why did you leave? and even more importantly why are you telling me? Nevermind- let's just pretend this conversation never happened for both our sakes...."
He'd be angry at them for leaving and even angry at them for telling him.... This complicated everything... He didn't want to turn them in, but he didn't want to disobey orders.... And since when had he started wanting anything to begin with? Had they been right in leaving.... to many thoughts. Depending on how close he and sole had been he'd either leave the institute with them, or get himself reset to keep them and him safe.
#fallout#fallout 4#fo4 companions#maccready#fallout 4 companions#deacon#paladin danse#hancock#john hancock#rj maccready#robert joseph maccready#cait fo4#cait fallout 4#fallout cait#fo4 curie#curie#curie fallout 4#fallout piper#piper wright#fo4 nick valentine#nick valentine#preston garvy#fo4 preston#fo4 x6 88#x6 88
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Kinktober 26: Demon (The Summoning Circle)
Day 26: Demon
Title: The Summoning Circle
Pairing: Kurogiri x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, demon sex powers, manipulation, coercion, death, orgasm denial, overstimulation, forced orgasms, mentions of past cheating (not Kurogiri), yandere
Notes: Thank you to Literary Genius @burnedbyshoto for helping me when I was stressing out over an ending for this.
Kinktober Masterlist
You’ve double and triple checked the spell, gone over the necessary ingredients, and compared the sigils drawn on the floor to the Ars Goetia grimoire you hold in your hand over a dozen times at this point. There is no way that a single thing is out of place, no way that you’ve made even a simple mistake.
You have at least a general idea that you must be careful with these kinds of things, although you have no personal experience. According to the grimoire, if there is even one small error in the binding sigils, you will find yourself dead or worse when you summon a demon.
You’re not even sure where the book came from. You found it in your attic while cleaning and trying to distract yourself from the anger you felt towards your partner. You wanted revenge on them more than anything, and finding the book almost seemed like a sign telling you exactly how to get it.
So here you are now, attempting to summon a demon. You chose a lower ranked demon from the Ars Goetia, deciding to err on the side of caution even though you’re not sure this will work at all.
And so, with a deep breath, you find yourself chanting the Latin incantation in the spellbook, walking around the circle as you do and spreading incense. When you finish, you find yourself standing in front of a still empty summoning circle, feeling remarkably stupid for thinking this could ever work.
Until the room’s temperature begins to drop rapidly, causing you to be able to see the fog of your own breath in the cold air. All of the lights in the room dim and then shatter, scattering glass everywhere. The candles surrounding the circle sputter and flicker for several seconds before finally being snuffed out, leaving you in total darkness.
Despite the pitch black, you can see something moving in the darkness, something that looks like purple mist creeping in. There is a noise that sounds like when someone opens a window or door on a windy day and you hear the pressure of the air rushing past you.
The purple spirals upwards until it finally begins to coalesce into the shape of a man. The candles flicker back on, the flames flaring up far higher than they should be able to and causing strange looking shadows to appear on the wall. When your eyes finally adjust, you realize that there is only purple mist where the man’s head should be and yellow eyes staring at you like they see right through you down to your soul.
“You summoned me, mortal?” The demon’s voice is deep and full of amusement. He paces the very edge of the circle, and you’re suddenly very glad that you double checked the sigils, as he pauses every small step to investigate them. Checking for some sort of flaw to escape, most likely.
“I - maybe - I,” you stumble over your words and he chuckles.
“Maybe? It’s a yes or no question.”
“I did do a summoning, yes. But I didn’t - “
“Didn’t expect a demon like me?” He interrupts you before you can finish. He chuckles even louder when you simply nod your head.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” he states, “I am a high ranked demon far beyond your capabilities to summon, mortal.”
“Then how are you here?”
“I came to aid you of my own free will.” He has finished his cycle around the sigils keeping him imprisoned, turning to look into your eyes. The penetrating gaze he levels at you has you squirming, and you’re the first to look away.
“Why would you do that though?” You begin to pace yourself, nervous energy rising up in you at the unusual situation you’ve found yourself in. This wasn’t what you expected to happen, and you’re left off balance.
“Because I can feel your rage, mortal. You want to punish someone, don’t you?”
Your eyes snap back to his, and he gives a slight nod as if encouraging you to continue.
“I - do want to punish someone. My ex-partner.”
The mist around the demon’s face seems to swirl with amusement. “Let me guess - cheating?”
Your eyes widen a fraction at the demon being so on the mark. “Yes, I caught them in bed with someone else.”
“A tragedy, really. Anyone foolish enough to cheat on someone like you deserves whatever they get.”
You can’t stop the heat that rises to your cheeks at the slight bit of flirtation. “I - thank you. Is it something you can help me with?”
“Of course, mortal. Revenge is something that I am quite good at. But I don’t like to make deals through a summoning circle. Shows a lack of trust, you see.” He steps a bit closer to the edge of the circle and raises his hands up in a placating manner. “Let me out as a good faith gesture.”
Your body instantly tenses. The reasoning makes sense, but the thought of this demon being free puts you on guard.
“I’m not so sure about that one,” you say hesitantly. “The book says you absolutely should not do that.”
“What book is this?” The demon says curiously. “Surely it won’t hurt to allow me to see it?”
You can’t think of anything that he could do with the book to act against you, so you slide it across the barrier without putting your hand through.
He picks up the book and begins to flip through it, making some hums of acknowledgement as he reads the pages. He glances back at your summoning circle before turning a few more pages and finding the exact spell that you used to summon him.
“Ahh, so this is the spell you intended to cast for a lesser demon summoning.”
“I didn’t actually expect it to work at all,” you admit. “And I definitely didn’t expect to summon anything like you.”
“Anything like me? You mean an incubus?”
“I - what, I don’t - “ You stumble over your own words. Even someone as ignorant as you are knows what kind of demon that is. And it’s well over your experience level. “Is that what kind of demon you are?” You finally manage to get out.
“Oh yes it is,” he says in a rumbling tone of laughter. “You may call me Kurogiri. And what about you?”
You say your name before you can think better of it, and the demon called Kurogiri’s eyes brighten in excitement.
“This book has one thing right. A demon’s word is law. If I swear an oath that I won’t betray you, then I am bound to it. So why don’t you let me out and we can work out a deal, hmm?”
You shift around from one foot to the other while you consider things. He seems reasonable and willing to deal with you, and he’s even willing to give you an oath. All he’s asking is to not be locked in a cage. “I want your word first.”
His eyes flash with dark humor at your words. “I swear that I will not betray you.”
You feel the weight of those words settle into your chest, as if a physical bond was created. You realize this must be the oath, preventing him from hurting you, and so you walk forward and smudge the circle enough for him to walk through. He strides through confidently, eyes zooming in on you instantly. The look of malicious glee on his face causes you to inadvertently take a step back.
That expression on his face tells you that you made a horrible mistake. The air seems to get heavy as the room heats up, his power building and building. It hits you in the face like a physical force, causing you to stumble before turning on your heel to run.
But you don’t make it very far. As you grab for the doorknob, the heat of it causes you to jerk your hand back. You turn to see the demon standing in the same spot, arm raised as he beckons you to him. You take sluggish steps forward, almost as if in a dream. You can feel what’s happening, but you can’t stop yourself from walking towards your doom.
In no time at all, you’re standing in front of him, forced to look up at his face as he towers above you. You’re burning up, skin feeling too tight as an insistent throb between your legs begins. You try to turn away, but you’re frozen in place as the demon takes a now clawed hand and traces it down your face.
‘You - swore that you wouldn’t betray me.” You’re surprised to find that your voice still works.
“Oh I promise you,” Kurogiri whispers seductively, “you’re going to love what I’m about to do to you.”
And with that, a clawed hand tangles in your hair as he crashes his lips against yours. A dominant tongue slips into your mouth as his teeth bite against your lower lip. You can do nothing but stand there and let him do as he wishes, the throbbing between your legs only intensifying as you feel slick drip down your inner thighs.
He pulls away, leaving you gasping for air and your lips swollen and bruise. “What did you do to me,” you pant, finally finding yourself able to move as you squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.
“Just a bit of incubus magic,” he chuckles, grabbing you and lifting you easily as he carries you to the summoning circle. He lays you down on your back in the middle of the circle before taking time to undress himself slowly, removing piece after piece as if it’s a show.
You can’t help but admire how beautiful his body is underneath the fancy suit he wears. You squirm around, trying to move, to anything to relieve this fire burning through your veins. But with a smirk, he paralyzes you again before settling in between your legs. He removes your clothes next, forgoing making a show of it and choosing instead to rip them off of you.
Soon you’re laying in nothing but your panties, wet spot clearly visible through the material. “Well look at this,” he murmurs, “already so wet for me.” He glides a finger across the wet spot, drawing a whine deep from the back of your throat as he slides your soaked panties down from your hips. You’re left vulnerable in front of him, unable to close your legs as he spreads them far apart.
Your bare pussy is left completely visible to him, slick gushing out of you as he examines you. “Such a pretty pussy. I’m sure you won’t mind if I have a taste - “
He leans in to lap at your juices, groaning and causing vibrations to shoot right through you. He spreads you open with two fingers as he suckles your clit, sliding two fingers easily into your core. You’re still paralzyed by whatever power he’s using, and so you’re forced to feel everything, every action seeming more intense from your inability to move.
He increases the suction on your clit, tongue lashing and swirling against the throbbing bead and causing a moan to slip from your throat. “Hngg, please, oh shit - “
“Does that feel good, mortal?” He coos at you, curling his fingers up to graze a sensitive spot inside that draws a shout from you. “I am barely even trying yet, and already you’re such a beautiful mess underneath me.”
You pant heavily as his fingers work inside of you, tongue refusing to let up on your now aching clit. The tension is building and building, and you whine as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Please, oh fuck,” you groan, not even sure if you’re begging him to stop or to never stop. “It feels so good -”
He lifts up just enough to take in your sweaty, breathless form, chest heaving and drool running down the corner of your mouth. “Do you want to cum?”
“Yes yes yes,” you babble mindlessly, right at the edge of an orgasm but unable to crash over. “Please!”
“Then call me your master, mortal.”
You’re too far gone to think of the consequences, the heat from within you burning through your veins. “Master, please let me cum! I need to cum so bad, please!”
He hums in pleasure, fingers inside of you quickening their pace, relentlessly smashing against your g-spot as his mouth latches around your throbbing clit again. You scream out your orgasm, juices squirting all over the demon’s face as you try to writhe.
Everything feels so sharp, so intense because of your paralysis, and you’re pushed over the edge twice more before he finally lets up. Your body is finally allowed to move, only for you to go limp as you shake and shudder.
You think things are over until you feel something hot and hard prodding at your entrance. Your eyes snap to his, eyes widening with alarm as you feel how thick he is.
“You didn’t think I was actually done with you, did you?” He flips you over, pressing your face down into the floor and raising your ass into the air as he sinks into you, inch by slow inch. You realize quickly that he doesn’t feel like a regular man, ridges and bumps running along his length that grind against your inner walls and force you to stretch around him even more.
Your fingers dig hard into the floor as you try to breathe. It hurts more than you would think, but in your lust addled mind, even the pain feels delicious.
“Does it hurt, little one?” The demon asks mockingly as you throw your head back. arching your back in a way that you can’t tell whether it’s to get away or to get closer. “I know I’m not like a mortal man, but trust me,” he grunts as he finally bottoms out inside of you, “you’ll take me anyway, and you’ll love every minute of it.”
The spines dig into your flesh, making your eyes water stinging sensation it causes. He gives you only a second to adjust before he’s thrusting, causing you to scream at the explosion of sensation.
He grips your hips as he pounds into you, forcing you back to meet his every thrust. There is one particularly large bump along his length that hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars with every single movement, and your whole body quivers as your stomach tightens.
You feel like you’re going to burn up from the inside, sweat dripping from your face and hitting the floor as the sound of pants and moans fill the room. His heavy balls hit your clit with every sharp snap of his hips, and the wet sounds your bodies make as they connect are positively obscene.
“Shit shit shit,” you chant as you clamp down around the many ridges along length, causing pleasure and pain to shoot through you which in turn makes you clench down even harder. “Fuck, it feels so - fuck it feels amazing,” you whine, realizing that your hand has come underneath you to begin stroking your throbbing, aching clit. Your mind is so foggy that you aren’t even aware when you started.
But the tight circles you’re rubbing on your swollen little clit are not getting you any closer to that blissful climax. Everytime you get close, it seems to fade away, and you whine from deep in the back of your throat.
“Oh my, do you want to cum again, little one?” Kurogiri’s deep voice rumbles. “Beg me to take your soul and I will let you.”
The reality of the situation crashes back into you all at once. Of course, how could you forget? You’re being fucked into submission by a demon that you were stupid enough to release from the summoning circle. You can’t give in, can’t let him have your soul -
“Fuck, no, why,” you whimper in a choked sob as your orgasm slips away from you yet again. Your fingers increase their speed, grinding down so hard on your clit that you’re beginning to get sore. You push back against the demon’s every thrust, hoping against hope that maybe you can fool him.
But as if he can hear your thoughts, he instantly stops moving and your orgasm falls even further away from you. Tears of frustration are streaming from your eyes and hitting the floor underneath you. “Please!”
“I can do this forever, have you hovering at the edge with no release until you go mad with the desperate need to cum. Do you think you can hold on that long, little one?” He mocks you as he begins to move again, fast enough that it’s pleasurable but not as fast or as hard as you need right now.
“N-n-n-o, please!”
“Then say it. Say your soul belongs to me, and I will give you whatever you desire, little one.” He moves your hand away from your clit to replace it with his own. “Don’t you want to feel how good it is to cum around a demon’s cock?”
You’re sobbing and trembling, the fire in you threatening to consume you if you don’t cum right this moment. But still you shake your head back and forth, fighting not to give in to this sadistic demon.
“Come now, little one,” he whispers into your ear. “No one is going to save you from me. Just give in and I will make you feel better than you have ever felt.”
As he grazes over your clit with one finger at the same time as the ridge pushes against your g-spot, your willpower finally snaps completely. “Kurogiri, my soul is yours! Please just let me cum, please!”
He chuckles a bit, slightly at first before building into a triumphant, booming laugh that seems to come from deep inside of him. “The contract is sealed.”
You feel a sharp tugging from within you, at the very core of your being. Everything in your being seems to be screaming out at once as purple mist shoots out from him to enter your body before disappearing, forming a connection between the two of you that will never be broken.
You want to consider the implications behind it, want to rage and scream at what was just done to you. But then he begins to move, and reason flies out of your head and is replaced with pure lust.
Rough fingers dig deep into the skin of your hips as he begins to ruthlessly pound into your aching pussy, thumb grinding down hard on your clit. He pushes against your g-spot with every single movement, and it isn’t long before the pressure reaches a crescendo.
You wail as you’re finally pushed over the edge, juices gushing from you as you squirt all over the demon’s cock. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe, fucking you roughly through your orgasm and overstimulating you through several more orgasms.
Finally, he begins to twitch and throb, shoving himself fully inside of you as hot ropes of cum spurt out against your unprotected cervix. The warmth spreading out feels hot enough to burn your insides, and you cum one last time with a strangled howl before collapsing limply onto the floor.
You feel dizzy, the room spinning wildly as you try to catch your bearings. He collects you into his arms, the mist that makes up his face seeming to form into a smirk. “Now you belong to me, little one.”
“What are you going to do with me?” You say weakly, not able to move or try to get out of his arms. “Are you going to let me go now?
“Of course not. I have waited too long for you, and now I have you. Your body and soul are both mine, forever.”
You’re not sure why you feel so weak all of a sudden, body becoming heavy and sluggish as if you’re being drained of energy. You’re beginning to lose consciousness, vision turning purple around the edges. But his wording causes a thought to form. “I did the summoning correctly, didn’t I?”
He chuckles a bit. “Yes, you did. But I was waiting, and I killed the pathetic demon you tried to summon.”
“And our deal? Were you ever sincere about it?”
“Of course I was sincere about it. In fact, your ex is already dead. Not only did they dare to put their hands on what’s mine, they discarded you like a piece of trash once they were done. Their punishment in the afterlife will be quite severe.”
“What’s happening to me?” You whimper, voice breaking at the end from fear and confusion.
He grins maliciously at you. “I am draining you of every bit of life force you have. You will die, and your soul will be tied to mine for eternity.”
“But your oath!” You try desperately to stop this, to avoid being killed by this demon. “You said you wouldn’t betray me!”
“It's not betrayal if I intended to do this from the beginning, now is it?”
Your mouth falls open in horror of how stupid you’ve been, how truly in over your head you were.
“Now fade away, little one. Don’t fight it. When you wake up, you’ll be in your new home. In Hell with me, where you belong.”
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @wings-flames-and-ashes, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main, @aryjaa, @theodora3022, @raekah, @ineedmorefanfics, @serosmissingtoe, @deathmemeiverse, @chibikochannumberone, @saint-eridell, @miscellaneous-bnha, @katsukis-sad-angel
#kinktober 2020#kurogiri x reader#kurogiri smut#yandere kurogiri#kurogiri#bnha x reader#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha x reader#mha smut#yandere mha#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon#tw: cheating#tw: coercion#tw: manipulation
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He's afraid of hurting you
Tsukishima x Y/n
Terushima x y/n
Atsumu x y/n
Warnings: fluff
Mentions of rape on Atusma's part.... sorry :(
Also I do request…
-596 words-
You and Tsuki have been friends for as long as you remember, it's always been you, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi. Always. But somehow you fell for the tall salty dino-loving jerk. You guys did everything together and you were the only other person he tolerated. When you met the team people asked Yamaguchi if you guys were dating, both laughing until you saw Tsukishima. You ran to him and began to bug him, much to everyone's shock (except Yama) when the tall boy smiled softly down at you.
Tsukishima also fell for you, but... he was scared, he covered his feelings with salty comments, but with you he could never, you were his soft spot. He always admired the way you smiled, laugh, or the face you make when you were concentrated or were nervous. He finds it adorable, but he won't tell you that. He'll tease you about how your face looks, but you'd laugh it off.
So, come to both of your surprises when you confess. It was a normal Tuesday, except it was just you two walking home, since Yamaguchi was sick. "Hey, Tsuki, can I be honest with you?" You asked once y'all reached your house.
"Would you rather lie?"
"No, god no... but uh, I like you..." You nervously messed with your fingers. You felt as if your heart was hitting your ribcage as hard as Oikawa serves a ball. Tsukishima felt as if he was dreaming, feeling his stomach twist and his heard dance. But... still fear ate at the boy.
"I like you too..." You smiled immediately. "But I can't be with you." And immediately faded.
"What...?" What kind of confession it that, he began to panic as he saw tears form.
"It's not that I don't want to be, Y/n, trust me, I do... but..." The words got stuck in his throat, he's not used to being this vulnerable. "I-I'm scared..." Your eyes grew at how soft his voice was, he was biting his lip so he didn't show his feelings.
"W-Why...?" You watch him tug on his jersey, the showers were down so none of the players thought of changing.
"I... I don't want to hurt you..."
"Is this about, E/n?" You asked, talking about the bitch who left Tsukishima for her best friend. He said something uncalled for, but that didn't give her the right to cheat and blame Tsukishima.
"Maybe... no, this is about how I'm not good in relationships, the last one I was in, she cheated on because of what I said to her... I.."
"I would never." You finished his sentence making him look at you. "Tsuki, you guys got into an argument, big deal. Couples argue you salty dino." Tsukishima surpassed a laugh as you continued, "It did not give her the right to cheat because you called her out for flirting with that idiot she cheated on you with. I know you loved her, but... I'm not her. If we fight, I'll sit in front of you despite your harsh words. Just like I always do. The only guy I want to flirt with or have my attention is you." He looked down at you and felt his shoulders drop.
"R-Really?" You grabbed his face and smiled.
"I'm willing to do this if you are..." He looked down at you before wrapping his arms around you, you sighed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"I don't deserve you... I love you so much, Y/n..." You smiled leaning into your best friend, your now boyfriend.
"I love you too, Tsuki."
-751 words-
You sighed into your seat, watching your best friend flirt up a storm with someone else. Kazuma Bobata knew of your feelings, and of the feelings of #1, Yūji Terushima. He sighed and sat next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder making you jump and look away from your crush. "Oh, Kazuma. Hi." He just gave you a look, you furred your brows, what crawled up his ass? "Everything good, Kaz?"
"No, our friend is hurting you." You raised your brows. "Don't deny it, I'm not stupid." He said once he saw you about to open your mouth, you sighed and looked down.
"How long...?"
"Since we met." I sighed again resting my head in my hands.
"What do I do...?"
"Confess you, idiot." You looked up to him immediately, Terushima looked in your direction hearing Kazuma call you an idiot.
"What, no?!" You didn't mean to yell but you did, your best friend left the girl standing there confused as he walked over to you, seeing you laugh a little.
"Everything okay, Y/n?"
"Huh?" Your face reddens hoping he didn't hear Kazuma say something about confessing.
"I'm trying to get her to confess to her crush." You immediately whipped your head to Kazuma.
"Dude!" You slapped his arm, Terushima felt his heartbreak, wincing a little, but it went unnoticed to you both.
"How about you practice on Terushima?"
"What..... /////-/////" Both of you blushed and looked at Kazuma who knew exactly what he was doing.
"Yeah, it'll help you both, Terushima needs to confess to his crush as well." Terushima so badly wanted to hit his friend, but he was right.
"Oh... I..."
"Fine." You looked at your friend in shock, "I... I-I'll help." His heart tugged and winced at his words, as long as your happy, right...? You blinked a couple times...
"Uh... okay...? U-Um, w-when...?"
"After school..."
--
You sighed into your bed, looking at your best friend's eyes. Sighing this is difficult, think of him as someone else. "Okay. Okay. I like you, a lot, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I do. I have since we were running on the playground laying at how stupid a kid looked, and... I like you despite you flirting with every girl you see..." As you continued to list why you liked him with your eyes closed, Terushima felt a smile form on his face, you like him? Once you finished and opened your eyes and saw he was smiling... it that a good sign, then you remembered. "Right... uh, your turn to... p-practice your c-confession..." It hurt you to say practice, you wish this was real.
"Oh... uh, right... Look, I like you so much, but... I don't think it'd work." What?
"Dude, horrible confession, what are you trying to do? Hurt her, make her happy, and confused?"
"Shut up and let me finish." You sighed and punched his shoulder, indicating your listening. "I like you a lot, but... I don't want to be the one hurting you in the end, Y/n... I can't do that. Not to you. I hate myself for letting my ex walk away because I chose to flirt with someone else. But with you... I... I can't do that... It pains me to flirt with other girls when the only girl I want to flirt with is you... But it won't last, I'll fuck up eventually." Congrats, Terushima, you made me happy, sad, and confused.
"I... I'm sorry... what the fuck gives you the right to have this all one-sided." His eyes widen a little, he should've known you had something to say. "So what your ex left, I'm not them, Teru. I like you, hell I fell in love with you and I trust you. If you fuck up and flirt with someone we'll talk it out, not just call it quits, or if you feel the need to flirt with someone, pretend not to know me, and flirt up a storm you dumbass." He laughed a little grabbing your face, but you weren't done. "I love you, you, I know you like me, Teru... but, I love you, and I love all your mistakes, I mean, I stuck around this far haven't I...? Doesn't that mean something... Hm." He cut your rambling off pressing his lips firmly to yours.
"You talk too much." He kissed you again, this time you shivered as the coldness of his tongue ring hit your lip. "I love you. God, I love you."
-959 words-
Atsumu knew giving you a spare key to his house was foolish. But he wanted to make sure you knew you were welcome, when you reached his house it was 2 in the am, and you needed your best friend more than anything. You took out your spare key and opened his door, jumping when you see Osamu in the kitchen. "Ah, welcome home, Y/n." You laughed shutting the door quietly behind you.
"H-Hi... O-Osamu..." He looked over in your direction immediately noticing the way your voice went high and the way you choked on your words.
"Y-Y/n... did something happen?" You pulled your hand over your mouth, keeping your sobs quiet, Osamu immediately dashed to you, leaving what he was doing in the kitchen. "Oi... ya okay?" You shooked your head as he wrapped his arms around you, letting you sob into his chest. "Talk to me, Y/n..." Osamu was like your big brother, he knows of your feelings toward his twin.
"I... I went on a date..." He sat you down on the couch, giving you some room. "I... H-he... took me to a cafe... and after we ate and stuff... I felt... d-dizzy... and... I c-couldn't stop him..." Atsuma walked down feeling thirsty when he heard your voice, he stopped on the stairs looking at you. "H-How do I... tell A-Atsumu...?" He watched as his brother kissed your head and brought you into his chest.
"Do you want me to tell him...?" He watched as you shook your head. "Just... be honest with him." Atsumu sniffed the air and spoke.
"Is something burning...?" You turn your attention to the other twin. Osamu immediately got up and ran to the kitchen. Atsumu looked at you and noticed how you wouldn't meet his eyes. "Y/n...?" He couldn't help but think you were crying and asking for advice on how to tell him something, he thinks you're seeing his brother, and don't know how to tell him. But boy is he far off.
"I... I need to talk to you... Osamu k-knows a-already..." He looked down at you confused, taking his brother's spot next to you.
"Y/n..." He wants to tell you he knows, but something about your face is saying to wait.
"I... I... I c-can't..." You buried your face into his chest, he was taken back but immediately hugged you. "I... I don't know why I can't... tell you... the words just... won't come out..." He furred his brows, hoping his misreading things.
"It's just me, Y/n." You broke down more, that's the thing, you didn't even want to go on a date, but, you wanted to get rid of your feelings for the blonde twin. You know he'd never like you, but he does. He really does.
"T-That's the p-point..." Osamu came back in and tapped your shoulder.
"I-I don't know much, about ya s-situation, but, here..." You grabbed the water from him and smiled lightly, that confirmed it, he was misreading things.
"Y/n...?" You looked down at your cup.
"Hey, just tell him what you told me."
"Okay..." He furred his brows and sighed.
"Y/n-"
"I was raped." You blurted out cutting Atsumu off... out of all things. He never expected that, Osamu sat there rubbing your shoulder.
"You... what...?"
"She went on a date, got dizzy after..." Atsumu sat closer to you, pulling you into his chest, rubbing your back softly.
"I..." The words got stuck in his throat. "I... will y-you be able to... sleep...?" You laughed at how careful he's being.
"C-Can I stay, w-with you... tonight...?"
"Ya guys can take the guest room, so ya can talk privately, and not annoy me." You both laughed, Atsumu helped you stand before leading you to the bed.
"Ya can take the bed." You gave him a look.
"I, uh, please don't make me sleep alone." He looked at you and sighed.
"I won't," He rubbed your arms gently. He laid over the covers as you laid under, you laughed. "What?"
"I don't bite." He laughed getting under the covers. He watched as you closed your eyes, scooting a little closer. "You can close your eyes and try to sleep you know."
"Sorry, I might not be able to sleep. I usually sleep without a shirt."
"Oh. Then take your shirt off, ya goof." He froze for a second, but slowly sat up, slipping his shirt over his head. He laid back down resting on his back. "Better?"
"Yeah." You nuzzled closer sighing a little.
"Uh, Tsumu, can uh, can you hold me..." He looked at you and saw how you weren't meeting his eyes.
"Come here," you nuzzled your head into his chest letting his arm drape over your shoulder, rubbing it softly, you let out a shaky breath. "Better?"
"Hm, thank you... Tsumu." He squeezed you in response. Once he felt your body get heavier, he kissed your head.
"I'd do anything for ya, I love ya, ya idiot. But... I don't want to hurt ya..." You smiled slightly before looking up making Atsumu turn a deep red. "I thought ya were asleep."
"Eh, but for the record, I love you too... to be honest, I went on the date because... I thought you didn't like me so..."
"Hm, so it's my fault." You sat up immediately as he looked like he was about to cry.
"No, god no."
"If I would have grown a pair, and told you how I felt... none of this would have happened."
"And I wouldn't be here, laying next to you." You traced your fingers over his abs, "I wouldn't be touching you like this." You leaned down pecking his lips. "Kissing you."
"No, no, we'd still do that." You both laugh cuddling into each other. "I love ya."
"I love you too. And you could never hurt me."
#haikyuu#terushima x y/n#tsukishima x y/n#atsumu x y/n#fluff#angst#rape#cute confessions#not good enough#insecure#hurt#fear
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Text
Know better
- Oikawa x GN!Reader
Summary - Oikawa knows better this time.
Genre - Exes/Past relationship, Angst (but with positive/hopeful ending!)
Warning - Post time skip!
Note - Inspired by Kyle Dion’s ‘Hold on to Me’ & Rosé’s ‘On the Ground’! Look to my tags for some tidbits!
WC - 1156
Oikawa is a decorated professional athlete with achievements and awards seemingly endless in his name. He’s also seasoned and secured as Argentina’s main setter, topped with skills that are praised five times over envious tears. It’s all the fact of the matter, undeniable truths that he along with many other volleyball players hold in high regard. But despite this, despite everything that he’s achieved in his life so far... Oikawa doesn’t feel as fulfilled as he thought he would be.
In fact, lately everything he once thought had held him back from his passionate pursuit of his life’s dreams, he’s found himself missing dearly. The flickers of melancholy in his chest, dull little aches that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what he’s tried, won’t stop reminding him of what he could have had if younger-him simply knew how to prioritise better. It makes him almost hyperaware of his past blunders, almost hating the effects it has on him ‘till this day. It’s glaringly obvious too when he goes back to his quiet apartment, when he scrolls through his messages, when he catches the glint of a broken promise from the corner of his eye. It cries out, pitifully, from the hollow little space carved from ages ago.
So, when Oikawa sees you in the cafe across the street, the very core of his heartache personified, before his very own eyes — this time, he chases after you.
“Hi.”, and your name follows. God, he loves it, he loves saying your name. He loves how it sounds, how pretty it spills from his lips, how comfortable it sits on his tongue, and Oikawa wants to say it to you forever — but he knows he shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t be intruding on your life. It’s unfair, and he knows that he has no right to be after placing his career miles and miles and miles ahead of the love you both once shared. Especially when you had been the one who tried to hold on, to fight for what you two had. Especially after he chose to turn his back on you for titles and achievements and passionate hard work, all having been celebrated with everyone who mattered in his life, save for the one person he yearned — yearns.
Oikawa knows it’s unfair of him. So damn unfair of him—
“Oikawa?”
— But it feel so right. It feels like fate, like destiny, like everything is falling into place with just a simple utter of his name from your mouth. Tooru’s always loved the way you said his name, spoken so beautifully with your voice, and it’s something he’s beginning to realise just how much he’s truly missed. Not just to hear his name, but to be the one you’re looking at, to simply be in your presence. But he knows it’s not enough. He’s always been a little more than ambitious, to put it nicely, and he feels like he has to do something — anything, just to hold on this time because the truth is... he still loves you. It’s taken him a long time to acknowledge it, to even admit it, but he’s here now and he’d be an idiot to let you go for a second time.
“Is this seat taken?”, and Oikawa hopes it’s not. He hopes that you had never found someone else, as horrible as that sounds, and he hopes that you’re still in love with him the way he is with you. He hopes that you stuck to the main reason for not contacting him all these years, because you still love him too much to just be friends.
“The seat?”, your voice comes out hesitant, apprehensive, and Tooru knows you’re stalling. He knows you’re, understandably, dubious about accepting this olive branch he’s (a little carelessly) extended. Oikawa feels a little more than hurt and disappointed at your uncertainty, but at the same time, a little more than hopeful at the lack of outright rejection. He clings to that subtext, that optimistic implication, but your darting eyes reminds him of his grief and he can’t bring himself to blame you. He knows that this, everything that you two are right now, is his fault. You’re distant, far, hard to reach because young Oikawa Tooru didn’t know how to juggle his priorities better, and it’s not far-fetched to say he regrets that. He regrets it in everything that triggers the aches to reverberate in his heart, and he feels bitter that it’s come to this. But he doesn’t stand down. He doesn’t want to. The part of him that’s matured since years ago tells him that he should — walk away and stop bothering you, but the bigger part of him he knows he can’t.
He feels guilt creep up on him a little for it, for acting this way with you even after all these years, after what had happened, but Oikawa just can’t let you go again.
“Yeah, I wanna catch up with the cutest person I know! It’s been so long, and I...”, know better now. Don’t like how you’re not in my life. Can’t seem to truly enjoy anything that we made ours. Wish that I never broke up with you. Miss you so many nights before I sleep. Am still so, so damn in love with you. “I’m sorry.”
He knows two simple words probably aren’t enough. It’s not enough to convey the magnitude of what he’s trying to express, it’s not enough to show how much he regrets his past choices, and it’s definitely not enough to ease the hurt he put you through.
But watching him, Oikawa Tooru, a man so stubborn and so prideful, apologising to you so sincerely, you know it’s enough to remind you of the love you felt — feel for him. And with that, you know it’s enough to have him read you like an open book, with hope bursting at the seams with his revelation. But he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions yet, not until he’s heard your answer. He may be able to see how you held love for him the same way he does for you, but it’s not that hard to see you weighing the pros and cons in your head either. Hell, he can practically feel the gears turning in your head from where he was standing, but Oikawa doesn’t let it damper him. Especially not when he knows how much he wants to spend the rest of his life waking up by your side, knows how everything isn’t at fulfilling as it can be without sharing it with you in his arms, and knows how he’d never be able to love anyone the way he loves you.
Tooru does know better now, and even if he is a little unfair, he stands opposite of you, waiting with a bated breath and optimism curling around his heart at your soft gaze, anyways.
“It’s not taken.”
#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#haikyuu x reader#oikawa angst#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu#originally written for kuroo but then I remembered the amount of shit he juggled while still staying in top form during HS so I scrapped#that idea lmao#then I thought to shift it over to maybe one of the miyans but then like OIKAWA appeared in bright neon white & teal in my mind and I was ka#was* like YES🗣#that being said I might have butchered his characterisation but I tried my best and I hope it wasn’t too bad :/#hq#hq.fics#oikawa stans if this was a miss then I’m so sorry🥲🙇🏻♀️😭
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