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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much.

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction.

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time.

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.”

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway.

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness.

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit.

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care.

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time.

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way.

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to.

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with.

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast.

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder.

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him.

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway.

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears.

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened.

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen.

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin.

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder.

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen.

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs.

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes.

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t.

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower.

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering.

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks.

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it.

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous.

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet.

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected.

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time.

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally.

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?”

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement.

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him.

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.”

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts.

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him.

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse.

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces.

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating.

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet.

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that.

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing.

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms.

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it.

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again.

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?”

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.”

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now.

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger.

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now.

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth.

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….”

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top.

“That’s it, nice and slow.”

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread.

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again.

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him.

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens.

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t.

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows.

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart.

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again.

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange.

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think.

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass.

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks.

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident.

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession.

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips.

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you.

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there.

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected.

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel.

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger.

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little – just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose.

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture.

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously.

“Yes, please, please,”

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often.

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.”

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made.

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life.

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper.

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“No.”

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much.

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t.

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t.

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had.

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more.

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this.

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you.

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it.

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap.

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though.

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic.

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response.

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted.

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek.

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him.

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head. Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom.

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side.

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him.

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?”

“You do.”

“So…. I’ll teach you.”

“....Okay.”

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do.

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart.

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this.

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us writing #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller angst #writing

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boldlyvoid · 5 months

Text

Come Together

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: Ever since the academy, Aaron and Y/N have been at each other's throats for a spot on the BAU. He got it, She didn't. Now they have to plan the Bureau's Holiday party together without killing each other.

Warnings: angst, fighting, mutual pining, enemies to lovers, Aaron had a crush on her while married. why he and haley broke up, miscarriage mentions, divorced Aaron, flirting, teasing, kissing, fingering, hate sex, p in v smut, rough sex, no condoms used

Word Count: 4.8k

Penelope is usually the one to plan holiday parties… but after last year's spiked punch— that ruined a lot of upper agents' sobriety, which wasn’t her fault at all, the director delegated to having two random people plan it together. He pulled names from a hat that just happened to be Aaron Hotchner and Y/N Y/L/N.

She was happy to do it, and he was fine with doing it… they just weren’t happy about doing it together. The two agents couldn’t stand each other and it goes all the way back to being in the same year at the academy.

They were tied for the top of the class, duking it out to be the chosen one for Agent Rossi’s new right-hand man. And of course, it went to a man. It didn’t matter to them that she was fantastic at what she did, or that her final score was 0.2% higher than his. He was a man so he got it.

She got a job in CARD which, she liked, it was still an opportunity to solve cases and bring kids home to their parents… she just had to work with the BAU more than she liked and take orders from them. And then Rossi left, Gideon stepped down and Aaron Hotchner was the fucking Head of the BAU.

She was taking orders from him. Him and his goon squad of pretty people he picked over her.

She would’ve pushed everything aside and dealt with him, she would’ve mended things if he accepted her into the team. But he never did. After 5 applications and being looked over for everything while he hired younger and younger, she finally gave up and started to hate his guts even more.

Now she’s in the elevator, pushing the button for floor 6 and shaking the thoughts of strangling him out of her head so she can deal with him for half an hour. He’s always so busy that she’s been waiting all week just to talk about this stupid fucking party, and the only time he has is at 8:30 pm on a Friday when she should be at home.

She walks right into the bullpen, up the stairs and knocks on his door. “come in?” He calls.

“Hey,” she says with a deep sigh. “Can we talk about the party?”

“Mhm,” he nods, waving her in. “Come sit, I already have some ideas.”

“Okay…” she sits down in front of him, ignoring all his plaques and accolades and staring down at her clipboard. “I called around and there are 3 places available that are big enough to hold us, on the 3rd Saturday of the month.”

“Awesome, I already called a friend of mine with a Christmas tree farm and acquired 3 trees— Douglas furs, all pretty and big, we’ll just need a ceiling over 12 feet to house them,” he explains.

“And who’s going to decorate them?” She asks.

He shrugs, “We’ve got a big budget, we can hire someone to do it.”

“Who did Penelope use?”

“Herself,” he smiles that devilishly condescending smile. “I’m sure if we ask she’d want to help out again. She loves Christmas.”

“Did you ever figure out who spiked the punch last year?” She asks, genuinely feeling sorry for Penelope.

Penny was the only one on the team that she actually liked.

He nods, “Dax Cooper up in counter-terrorism.”

“Yeah, he’s an asshole.”

“Worse than me?” He teases. “Seriously, when are you going to stop being mad at me?”

“When you admit you hate me!” She fights back. “I did nothing to you. You’re the one who conspired with Dave and got hired here and then you purposely lost all my applications and never let me know why you wouldn’t even interview me.”

“I didn’t lose them, I put them to the side,” he shrugs. “You weren’t ready to be on our team.”

“But the walking calculator and teen Mrs. USA are?” She laughs.

“Reid and JJ are wonderful assets,” he snaps, jaw tight and eyes full of fury. “This is why I don’t want you. You wouldn’t be a team player. Not until you get rid of the attitude and accept that this job is about more than numbers. Yes, they’re young, yes you beat me by a fraction of a percent, but that doesn’t mean you have what it takes to do what we do.”

“I look at cases full of missing, dead and raped kids all day, how is that any different?” She honestly can’t believe it.

“Because you look at a screen all day with facts and witness statements and I go out into the field and I talk to parents and I deal with the cops and I don’t start fights over petty bullshit,” he reminds her. “I have never called you names or signalled you out. All you do, every time we're on a scene together, is whisper and gossip and try to undermine me. You need to grow up.”

She just shakes her head, holding in a comment that could hurt him because… and she hates to say it, but he’s right. “Whatever. Should I call one of these places and book it tomorrow or what?”

“Do whatever you want, just give me the address so I can have the trees and decorations sent over,” he honestly doesn’t care. “I trust your judgement on a caterer, I’ll pick a band… what else would we need?”

“Invitations, which I can handle,” she assures as she stands up to walk to his door. “I’ll cc you on everything and include the director for oversight. I’ll call you if I have questions.”

“Y/N,” he calls out to her before she leaves. “I’m going to be looking for a new agent in a few months…”

“And?”

“If we can work this out by then… maybe things will be different when you apply this time?” He suggests, giving her innocent eyes and genuinely meaning it.

“Okay.”

—

“Did you see her last night?” Dave asks, walking right into Aaron's office with two coffees right at 8am.

He nods, “I did… you don’t have any connections to a band I can book for Christmas, do you?”

“The Jazz club might be able to lend us some members,” he suggests. “I’ll make a call… but I take it things went well?”

“As well as they could go, she’s still so mad at me for getting this position over her,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how to make her realize she just wasn’t ready. Our working together would’ve been awful. It would’ve—

“Ruined your marriage that just ended?” Dave teases. “I know you liked her, I saw the way you two looked at each other and I saw the teasing and the way you talked about her. She was more than a friend to you… I couldn’t have her on the team like that. I couldn’t see you go through what I did with Caroline.”

“I hate thinking about how different things could’ve been if she was on the team though,” he shakes his head and stares off out the window. “We almost broke up back then, you know? We almost never had Jack…”

“You know it’s perfectly normal for marriages not to work out, it doesn’t mean you loved her any less, it just wasn’t meant to be forever,” Dave reminds him. “You’re still friends, there’s no ill will. You never cheated, she didn’t either. You just grew apart. It happens.”

“But now I’m single and I can pursue Y/N… but she hates me,” he sighs. “I don’t think she’ll ever stop hating me.”

“Nasty hate sex is fun,” Dave teases, making them both laugh. “I’m serious… you wouldn’t believe the women I’ve—

“I know, actually,” Aaron shakes his head. “Strauss can’t look at you the same anymore.”

“Hey… that wasn’t hate, it was just indifference,” he teases.

“Whatever,” Aaron can’t help but smirk. “Can you work on the band for me?”

“I will, I’ll get them to throw in some love songs too,” Dave teases on his way out.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Two weeks of planning and emails blow by in the blink of an eye.

He gets ready for the party early, having to be there to check things over and meet the band and shake hands with the higher-ups as they arrive. He has a nice suit on, a red tie for Christmas and dark green socks that no one will ever notice. But he wants to look nice.

For her.

He walks up to her where she’s hiding in the corner. Adorning the most stunning golden dress and holding her clipboard, making sure everything gets delivered and set up in time for the start time at 7. They still have 4 hours till then, but she’s an overachiever. And a worrier. She needed this to be perfect.

She looked perfect. Like the 2000 Holiday Barbie brought to life. He’s absolutely astounded by her beauty he just stares for a moment before he says anything.

“You know, you look very pretty today,” he compliments but she doesn’t take it that way.

She looks at him like he just insulted her mother. “What?”

“That dress, it looks nice on you,” he looks her up and down. Smiling like he has some tricks up his sleeve. “What? Can’t I think you look nice? Haven’t we spent enough time talking this last month to let me compliment you?”

“Don’t you have a wife?” She asks, disgusted he’d hit on her. “And a kid?”

“We got divorced back in April,” he shrugs. “And you say you want to be a profiler, yet you haven’t looked at my hands in months?”

She looks now, noticing that he doesn’t have a ring and the tan line that should be there is long gone, which means he’s telling the truth. “Oh… sorry.”

“It’s better this way,” he nods, giving her a sweet smile. “Is everything going to plan?”

She nods too, “Yeah. Just waiting on your band… please tell me they’re good?”

He laughs, “They’re great. Dave’s got this Jazz bar he basically owns with how much money he’s spent there so they owe him one… You’ll like them.”

“Jazz, at Christmas?” She can’t believe it. “Hotch—

“Aaron,” he corrects her. “Please, for the love of god, call me Aaron again.”

“Why?” She laughs, “We’re not close.”

“Oh, come on,” he teases. “You can’t tell me that before everything went down, we didn’t have something going on? We were friendly, I almost thought you had a crush on me?”

She looks at him with a brow raised, “You thought I had a crush on you?”

He nods, “And then you found out I was married.”

“So you’re saying if you weren’t married we could’ve hooked up at the academy?” She asks. “Sounds like you liked me too, regardless of the wife.”

“No—

“Be honest,” she begs, stepping into his space even more. “If things were different- if you didn’t have a wife and we fucked back then, would you have screwed me over for the job?”

“I didn’t screw you over, I simply already knew Dave,” he finally admits after 10 long years. “I knew he was about to leave, he knew Gideon didn’t want to be in charge. He wanted someone to run the whole unit who wouldn’t choke— not saying you’d choke, he just knew I was already hard on the inside, I wasn’t going to lose my mind with all the shit we see.”

“You could’ve put in a good word for me, Aaron, I would’ve been fine working under you. I would’ve loved even just an office job in the BAU, I want to work with more than just missing kids,” she begs. “I’ve done it for 10 years, now. You know that makes me strong. You have a kid of your own, you know it’s not easy to think about them missing, let alone deal with it.”

“I know… and I was serious, I have a new position opening up and I want to give this another try,” he admits. “I want you on the team.”

She shakes her head, “how can I be on the team when this—” she points between them. “This, whatever this is, is going on?”

“The sexual tension?” He teases and she swats his arm. “We’ll be fine.”

She shakes her head. “Just, give me some time to think about it?”

“I can do that…”

—

She watches him from afar most of the night. Talking only when they needed to, like in front of the director or on stage while introducing the band and thanking everyone for being there… she was having a very hard time being in the same room as him with all she knew now.

She was still mad at him.

Mad because she’s wasted so much of her life hating him when they could’ve been happy together… but at the same time she was sad for his ex-wife. She wondered how long the marriage was loveless. Did she know? Did she suspect? Who broke it off? Does he see his son? She knew he was a good man back then but, what kind of good man has a crush on someone else while married? Would he just do that to her if they got together?

She had so many questions in her mind and they wouldn’t shut up.

He approaches her again while she’s deep in thought, staring at the floor while she sips on a drink she doesn’t even like.

“Having fun?” He asks.

She shakes her head, “No.” she puts her drink down on the table just behind her and turns back to him as he begins to speak.

“Something not going according to pl—

“Why the fuck did you have to tell me you like me?” She snaps. “I was so okay with hating you for the rest of my life because I couldn’t be on the team I always wanted to join and then you tell me you like me? That if you didn’t have a wife you’d want to be with me back then?”

He steps more into her space so they can keep their voices down and between each other, “because you deserve to know.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she fights back. “You were never worried about me being too immature for the team, you were scared you’d end up cheating on your wife with me. I didn’t even know you had a wife until I developed feelings for you. You never wore your ring to class, we spent every day sitting together in class or at the library and you came back to my dorm a few times… you pursued me as much as I was pursuing you and then you made it my fault.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he bows his head, ashamed. “My wife and I weren’t in a good place, we were talking about getting separated… then she got pregnant.”

“I thought Jack was only—

“We lost a couple babies before him,” he admits. “I didn’t want to be like my dad. I didn’t want to knock her up and leave her so I stayed. I stayed but I wasn’t a good dad anyway. I was always at work, I missed important things with my son and she was the one to end it because she deserved someone who wanted to be home with her and my son deserved to grow up knowing his dad wasn’t always going to be there but loves him enough to be as present as possible when he is home. I couldn’t be that when I was with his mom. we’re so much better apart, I love having weekends alone with my son and doing things we like and not worrying about fighting with his mother in front of him. And she’s happier now with her new boyfriend and Jack's happy with the prospect of a stepdad who can step up in all the areas I lack.”

“That’s a really mature thing to do for him,” she manages to give him a small, press-lipped smile. “Still doesn’t make me feel better about what you did to me.”

“I’ve wanted to tell you the truth and that I’m sorry for so long, but when we’re together it’s always a fight. I can never get an honest minute with you, you always just come in guns blazing and my instinct is to tease you back,” he admits. “I am sorry. I wish things were different. I would like to start over if you’d allow me to.”

“I don’t want a job on your team,” she says, stepping in even closer. Close enough to kiss him. “I can’t work with you like this.”

“Why?” He smirks.

“Because Strauss hates you enough as is without you fucking your subordinate,” she whispers. “I’m not throwing myself under the bus… just to be under you.”

He lunges for a kiss, pressing his lips against hers as he cups her face. She backs up slightly in surprise, bumping into the table behind herself. Aaron’s instincts are sharp, he reaches behind her and steadies it so the drink doesn’t crash against the floor and draw more attention to them. She knows the few people in this corner are already looking at them, but she doesn’t care.

This is a kiss she’s waited a decade for.

Her hands go inside his suit jacket, she reaches around to grasp his back and pulls him flush against herself. They break the kiss just to breathe, going in for another and another until their tongues meet and they’re the odd couple making out in the corner of the party.

His hand slips from her cheek to her jaw, along the side of her neck and then she pulls away, “not here,” she reminds him they’re in public and he can’t touch her anywhere he wants to.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “How long do we have to stay here?”

“I have to stay for shutdown tonight,” she sighs. “But…. Come with me.”

She pats his side and moves past him, leading him out of the little corner they’re in and towards the main room. He follows her up a staircase, past people they both know and respect and they catch a few eyes but, she puts on a fake pissed-off look and they think she’s leading him somewhere to yell at him… cause that’s what they do.

“Hey man, where are you going?” Derek asks as they pass him and Penelope sharing a plate of hors d’oeuvres.

He’s quick on his feet, “One of the vendors fucked up, we have to chat with their boss and discuss how they can make it up to us.”

“Oh, damn, well… have fun,” he teases. Letting them go on down the small corridor towards some offices.

She leads him to the only open office she has access to, flicks on the light, lets him in and locks the door behind them. He’s quick to crowd her space, press her up against the door and grip her chin to tilt her attention up toward his eyes once more. She’s back inside his suit jacket, he’s so toasty-warm in there she can only imagine what it’ll be like to be naked with him.

“What were you saying about fucking up and making up for it?” She teases him.

He smirks, “I will… but first we need to find a way to release all that pent-up frustration we have against each other.”

She tries her best not to laugh, just shaking her head with a smile as she lets out a little huff, “Ah yes, fuck me like you hate me so we can restart fresh.”

He cups her face with both hands, eyes darkening with lust, “you’ve been such a brat for so long.”

“And I’m sure you know the cure for that?” She teases, pulling him in closer. One of her legs slips out of the slit of her dress and she brings it up to wrap around his hip, he’s quick to drop one of the hands from her cheek to grip her thigh.

“I do,” he whispers, his voice so deep it makes her stomach drop with anticipation.

He kisses her abruptly, she grips his back pulling him as if they could possibly get any closer but they can’t. Not yet. He grinds against her as their tongues meet again, his hand on her leg goes a little higher until he’s gripping her ass. The hand on her cheek starts to slip again, caressing her chest, she lightly moans into his mouth at the feeling. He’s everywhere, boxing her in against the door, but she wants more. She wants him buried deep inside of her, pounding her against the table over there, letting her know just how much he’s wanted her this whole time.

He kisses the side of her mouth, her jaw and down her neck, letting her catch her breath just to knock it all out of her again when he starts to lightly suck on her skin. “Aaron, don’t you fucking dare,” she scolds him.

“I won’t,” he speaks against her, just lightly nipping and sucking at her skin on his way down to her cleavage.

She pulls her hands out from inside his jacket to roam his shoulders until one hand ends up at the nape of his neck to play with his hair. Her head is tossed back against the door, and he kisses every inch of available skin on her chest.

He reaches down and gets both of his hands under her ass, making her jump up so he can carry her. Still kissing her neck, he moves them over to the table and sets her down. She’s just the tiniest bit taller now, he kisses her cheek again, looking her in the eye once more as he spreads her legs and runs his fingers along her thighs, realizing now she has nylons on. His hands go further, towards her aching cunt, he grips her thighs while both thumbs play with the seam of her nylons.

“I’m gonna rip these,” he announces, finding the weakest part of the seam and tearing it open enough to fit his cock through, without completely ruining them. He moves her thong to the side and drags his index finger over her clit. “You’re fucking soaked…”

She tosses her head back, both hands gripping the table like her ice depends on it when two of his fingers plunge into her. “Oh, fuck,” she moans a little too loud.

Attaching his lips to her neck again, he sucks on her pulse point while fucking her on his fingers. It’s hard and quick, covering the palm of his hand with her slick as his thumb rubs her clit. She’s always known his hands would be good for this, if nothing else.

“Please, Aaron? Oh my god,” She starts to beg.

“Words, princess,” he teases against her neck, teeth grazing her skin, his breath hot, it sends a shiver down her spine.

“Wanna cum,” she whispers, breathy and so close. “On your cock.”

“Okay,” he pulls out, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking his palm up to his fingers. He sucks them into his mouth with a groan. His cock twitches between them, jumping with excitement.

She whines again while he undoes the zipper and tugs his cock out, “please?”

“Hold on,” he spreads the excess wetness over his cock, stroking himself twice while biting his tongue. It clearly felt so fucking good but she knew her tight cunt was going to be better.

He slips in slowly and her grip changes, letting go of the counter, she wraps her legs around him and grips his back with her fingernails dug into the skin. “Better?” He whispers into her ear.

She whimpers when he doesn’t move, feeling so full, “fuck me, please? Fuck me the way I deserve.”

He hums, kissing her cheek before looking into her eyes, all watery and blown out, her mascara started to run a bit. He tilts his head to the side, “how hard?”

“Hard,” she looks him dead in the face.

He slips out, pulls her off the table and turns her around so her chest is against the cold hardwood table-top and flips her dress skirt up and out of the way. He rips her nylons even more, all the way up the back so her ass is exposed. He takes her ass cheeks in his hands and spreads her apart, amazed at how her pussy clenched in anticipation.

“Please,” she whined, almost stomping her feet with desperation.

He slams into her without warning, making her gasp loud enough to be heard by anyone wandering the hallway outside.

He pulls out a bit and slams back into her again and again and again until the noises she’s making are complete nonsense. She whines and moans and leans against the table for dear life while pushing back against him. He slaps her ass a few times, making the sound reverberate around the room like an echo.

He needs more friction, so his thrusts get less powerful and more rhythmic, he uses her like a toy bouncing her on his cock like a rag doll. She felt like her main purpose in life was to be fucked by him like this, it felt so good, it felt incredibly right, and she loved every fucking second of it. All those years of fighting paid the fuck off.

He slams into her cervix over and over, the head of his cock kissing the puckered spot inside again and again. Her hungry cunt sucks him in so deep, never wanting him to leave, and he can tell she’s close just from the way she clamps around him like a vice. He reached around to her stomach and drags his hand down her mound to rub her clit with his middle finger. The rhythm barely matches, but she loves the way it feels. It’s unpredictable, it’s all under his control, she just sits there and takes it like the good girl he’s raised her to be.

“Cum on the cock you hate so much,” he insists, “I wanna feel it. I want you to cover my cock in your cum before I fill you up to the fucking brim.”

Too fucked out to really respond she reaches one hand behind her back so he’ll hold it. He intertwines their fingers and leans forward to kiss her shoulder as his hips snap against hers with force. She starts to shake, her legs barely able to keep her up as her orgasm hits her and rattles through her body. He feels the spasm from the inside, her cunt flutters as she releases all the built-up tension in her body She’s so fucking tight he’s barely able to register his own orgasm approaching when he topples over her on the table.

He fucks into her as deep as he can go and then stills. She can feel rope after rope of his cum pump into her, they can hear the dribbles on the floor between them as it overflows and drips out of her, along with her own.

He kisses her back, breathing hard against her. She’s just trapped there under him, legs quaking in her heels, “holy fuck?”

“Sorry,” he pulls back and out of her, “shit… we didn’t think this through.”

She sighs, holding her dress up so she doesn’t make a mess. “Are there any tissues in here?”

He looks around, “Yeah… but it’s just that brown paper towel roll like we have at work.”

“It’ll do,” she shrugs. Watching him walk over to the dispenser near the sink in the corner of the room, he takes a bit out and cleans himself up quickly, putting himself back in his boxers before her gets some more.

He leans her forward again, kneeling behind her, he cleans her up to the best of his ability and then he repositions her thong. He even wipes up the floor before tossing the paper out. “I can’t believe there was so much…”

She laughs, dropping her dress back down and fluffing it so it looks normal again. “10 years worth of—

“Okay,” he shakes his head with a smirk, stepping back into her space, he wraps her up and kisses her forehead, “you did so good.”

“Thank you,” she smiles sweetly, she feels so different. There’s so much affection in her chest as she looks up at him once more. “I’m glad we got that out of the way.”

“I’ll stay with you here while they’re cleaning up,” he assures. “And maybe later I can show you how sorry I am for keeping secrets all these years?”

“I’d really like that… but I’m still not working for you,” she teases.

“I guess I’ll just have to take on more CARD cases so you’re forced to see me,” he teases right back, smiling at her.

This is going to be fun.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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albertdabuttler · 11 months

Text

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: (in this chapter) swearing lolz, angst and fluff splattered here and there, reader and Dave hate each other and its very amusing (to me), two creeps try to kidnap you but Kick-Ass saves the day! mention of a small cut and blood, i think that's it?

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3k

gif not mine !!

A/N: hei... I'm back and better and bigger than ever! I have a couple more parts to this fic coming so I hope you like it!

———————

“Man, why do you guys hate each other’s guts so much? Weren’t you two like best friends three years ago?” Said Todd, cutting the tension. You had forced yourself to sit at the same table as Dave, only to avoid looking like a pitiful loser and sitting alone.

“I don’t know, Todd” Your tone laced with sarcasm, “Maybe you should ask David.” You tried to quickly finish your lunch.

Dave only sighed in annoyance. He didn’t like this broken friendship with you. You had known him since you moved to the city when you were four and quickly became attached at the hip. In freshman year he developed a crush on Katie Deauxma and stopped talking to you thinking Katie might think you two were a thing. You told him to stop ignoring you and he talked to you like some girl who was just obsessed and jealous. After you slapped him in the face for acting like a dick, your friendship ended. Although it was his fault, the way you so quickly cut him off after (rightfully) acting like a bitch to him, had his blood boiling.

You weren’t jealous of Katie because he liked her. You just couldn't stand to see him waste his time on a girl when he should have been worrying about the next issue of his favorite comic.

Anyone at your school could say that you and Dave Lizewski were often at each other’s throats. It’s not like you actually fought all the time, most of the time you could withstand a normal conversation with him, or even just being in the same room. You always somehow found things to argue about in every class you had together. Dave was even more pushed around now thanks to the acquaintances you had that happened to be on the football team.

“Alright, I’m finished. See you in class, Todd. Bye Marty.” You smiled softly at them, sending them a small wave and completely ignoring Dave’s presence. You had an argument before coming to lunch, that’s why you didn’t talk to him.

“See ya,” Said Marty with his mouth full, waving enthusiastically.

Dave hit his arm.

“What? Just ‘cause you’re mad at her doesn’t mean we have to be.” Marty said.

“Yeah…” Agreed Todd, watching you as you walked away. “She’s hot as fuck.”

“Shut up, Todd. You fucking hornball. She’s insufferable.” Dave rolled his eyes, picking up his things to go to his next class.

He pondered daily about what he did to lose your friendship, you meant everything to him. Although from the outside it looked like he wanted to strangle you, he secretly wanted to be your best friend again.

“Hey Cleo,” you greeted a friend at your locker. You had three classes with her. “Hey! Did you see that new video of Kick-Ass?”

“…No, I haven’t.” You laughed nervously.

“Yeah, he fights off some assholes trying to rob a guy. He totally kicked their asses.” She chuckled.

“Why’s everyone so into him?” You queried.

“‘Cause its a brave teenage guy fighting for what’s right, duh! He’s also super cute.”

“But you haven’t even seen his face,” you continued.

“Have you actually looked at him? If you don’t see anything in him, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Whatever.” You giggled at her excitement, beginning your walk to class.

———————

Unfortunately for you, being late to your last class got you detention after school. As a result, you missed the bus back home and none of your friends with cars had stuck around to take you back. There was no way in hell you’d get into a cab alone, so you had to walk home.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but it was a drag. An hour of walking made headphones very useful in such times, and you were glad you brought them today.

Walking home included having to pass through a small part of the city in order to get to your neighborhood. It wasn’t the best of places, but the convenience store at a corner on the way there helped improve your mood.

“Thanks Pat!” You told the old lady at the register. She was the sweetest, and you often passed through here so she grew a liking to you, occasionally letting you take a free candy bar for your journey.

“Of course baby. Get on home safe, alright? Come back soon!” She smiled. This brought a grin to your face.

Continuing the walk home, you felt some sort of presence behind you.

Fuck.

You were about to turn a corner when a man grabbed you by your wrist.

“Why’s such a pretty girl like you walking all by herself?” He smirked.

“Let me go, you fucking creep!” You tugged your hand away, the other man walking closer causing you to take a step back. In the corner of your eye you spotted someone, Kick-Ass was making his way to turn the corner.

“Help!” You yelled, making the masked hero jolt up to look at you. His eyes widened upon meeting yours and he hesitated before he quickly made his way to you.

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch. What’s in your bag?”

The other man was about to take your bag before Kick-Ass turned the corner.

“Hey! The hell are you assholes doing?”

They both stared at him, one nodding at the other as he ran to fend the hero off.

You could only stand there and watch as the other man tried pulling you away. Kick-Ass was able to knock the robber out with his baton after the short brawl. Thankfully the man in the mask caught up, but the man holding you held a knife to your throat.

“Back the fuck off or I’ll kill her.”

Your entire life flashed before your eyes. You thought of all the mistakes you've ever made, how you fucked up big-time with Dave and now that you were about to die, you'd never be able to fix the friendship you had with him. You thought about what you would say to him if you got the chance to make peace with him. How you'd apologize for being such a bitch, how you'd give him that collection of The Punisher he gave you back in freshman year that you never got the chance to return due to the fight you had, how you were currently not on the best terms with your parents, how you never got to apologize to that one girl you didn't stick up for when she was being bullied by some girls you knew.

How you were going to die without getting to share any kind of intimacies with a boyfriend. You'd had two boyfriends before, no more, no less. Both those relationships ended because you were either a rebound or "practice." To put it simply, they couldn't keep it in their pants and you would die a virgin for being so afraid.

Kick-Ass stared between you and the culprit.

“There’s a camera right there.” He pointed his thumb behind him, and sure enough there was a camera pointing straight at you and the criminal.

The man threw you to the ground, attempting an attack on Kick-Ass. Not even five seconds into the fight, the knife was quickly knocked onto the street. The mugger did get quite a few hits in, even knocked Kick-Ass down a couple of times. But as soon as the masked man was on top of him, he kept jabbing and hooking, not once letting the man recuperate.

It was a painful sight to see, like he was taking all his anger out on the bad guy. You could only stand there and watch in awe.

“Don’t ever touch anyone again, asshole.” He said, holding the man’s collar.

“Okay man, just let me go!” He begged for mercy. Kick-Ass knocked him out with one last fist to the face.

He got up and looked at you. Realizing who you were, he pushed aside all his personal problems with you and lent you his hand to help you up, “Uh…A—are you okay miss?”

“Yes, I’m—I’m fine,” you stuttered, still in utter shock that you almost got kidnapped. But so incredibly grateful that he was there to save you.

“Did they hurt you anywhere?” He questioned, dismissing the fact he had a little scratch on his eyebrow that was bleeding too much for your comfort.

“No, I’m okay. Even if I wasn’t, my mom’s a nurse so I’d be fine. Are you?” You looked at his eyebrow, pointing to it.

“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt...” He waved his hand.

You looked behind him only to see that the man he first fought was gone already.

“We should get out of here, the cops’ll probably be coming soon,” you looked into one of the stores on the sidewalk, seeing that a couple of people had their phones out and had recorded the whole thing. And that meant someone probably called the cops too.

“Yeah,” He looked back at them and waved with a smile. “Let me walk you home,” He offered.

You didn’t even know who he was under that mask, but something told you that you could trust him. “Sure, thank you.”

———————

“Why’d you even decide to be a hero anyway?” You laughed.

“I dunno. I see so many comic book nerds but it’s just weird that no one has actually tried to be a hero yet. And I guess I just wanted to see what it was like.” He chuckled.

“So you like getting your ass kicked every so often, Kick-Ass?” You giggled.

“Ha, good one,” he scoffed at your pun.

“But seriously, why haven’t you quit, even after getting hurt all the time?” You asked.

“I—I got into an accident, I can barely feel pain ‘cause of it. Plus, I can’t just look the other way anymore.” He looked at you. “Sure as hell couldn’t turn away from the damsel in distress.” He joked. The suit and mask gave him such incredible confidence and ego.

You smacked his shoulder, scoffing. The walk home with Kick-Ass had you finding out that the two of you had quite a lot in common. The both of you really liked comics, he was a kid your age, and he was also one of Pat’s favorite customers. Kick-Ass seemed like he was an amazing guy. Too bad he wore a mask.

“Welp, this is me,” you arrived at your home. “thanks for walking me home. I really enjoyed talking to you.” You smiled widely,

“Don’t mention it, I also enjoyed talking to you. I—If you ever need anything… Just message me on MySpace… Or something.” He smiled softly.

Now you understood what Cleo and every other girl saw in him.

“Sure thing, Kick-Ass. Same to you. You know where I live now,” you chuckled bashfully.

You looked at him for a second too long.

“I feel like I know you—you’re so familiar.” You spoke.

His heart began to race, “Well, I guess we’ll never know.” He chuckled nervously, looking elsewhere.

His eyes were so damn beautiful. They were so blue, they looked like sapphires or something.

How corny, you thought.

“See ya ‘round,” he saluted, turning to walk away.

“See you…” You spoke, but he was already out of earshot.

His strut was so fucking hot. Who knew you’d be attracted to the way a man walked?

———————

“You lucky bitch! Did you have a super hot make out session after that!?” Cleo spoke as you two grabbed your trays for lunch.

“Shut up!” You laughed. “No, I just think he’s cute is all. But thank fuck he was there. I probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”

“Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.” She sighed contently at the story of your interaction with him.

“Hey, let’s go sit over there,” She pointed at a table with three boys, Todd, Dave, and Marty. “I told Todd I’d sit with him today.”

“Sure thing…” You agreed hesitantly. She bit her lip before continuing. “Is it just me or is Todd kinda cute?” She whispered, giggling as you approached the table.

You only rolled your eyes. “Hey guys,” You greeted, sitting next to Marty, Cleo sitting next to Todd across from you. Dave still in his usual spot at the end of the table.

“Hi Dave.” You smiled almost artificially, showing you weren’t so mad at him anymore.

The three boys looked at each other in surprise.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Said Todd.

“Hey.” Dave finally replied.

“What’s up with you?” Questioned Marty, “Can’t remember the last time you actually said ‘hi’ to Dave.” He said sarcastically.

“Guess I’m in a good mood.” You glanced at Dave, suddenly letting go of the resentment you had towards him, because of the fact your life was almost taken from you. You took the chance you had now, to begin to sort everything out before it would be too late. You still disliked him though. Not because of what he did, but because he's just a dick.

Does she know? He thought to himself anxiously. You were the last person he wanted to know about this. He just wouldn't be able to stand the embarrassment.

“Did you guys see the fight Kick-Ass had last night?” Asked Cleo.

“What? No,” Marty and Todd got excited.

“Yeah, why don’t you tell them what happened?” Cleo smiled, giving you the spotlight.

You looked at the boys awkwardly,

“I was about to get kidnapped… And, uh yeah. Kick-Ass kicked these two guys' asses...”

Todd and Marty were upset at the lack of detail, but Dave giggled quietly at the joke, smiling as he poked his food.

“I’m gonna have to watch it later.” Marty said, Todd then agreeing.

“Do you guys seriously have a crush on him or something?” Questioned Dave.

Cleo laughed. “Dave, every girl I know has a crush on him.”

He swallowed, he wasn't aware of this. Dave never caught the attention of girls. That he knew of.

“I mean, you have a crush on him too, right?” Cleo asked you, trying to prove her point.

Dave’s eyes widened before looking your way.

“I—I mean I wouldn't call it a crush, but yeah, I guess he’s pretty cute... I like... His eyes. The color's really nice."

Dave couldn't help but smile at the flattery. Knowing that you were attracted to him, in a way, made him feel so odd. He never thought you'd see him that way. Well, not him, but whatever part of him you could see.

"You think he has nice eyes?" Dave chuckled. It made you a little mad because it sounded like he was making fun of you.

"Yes, he does. What about it?" Cleo butted in.

"Not just his eyes, though." She turned to you, "He's got super broad shoulders and a nice ass. Just saying I'd hit. He’s definitely big." She whispered the last part under her breath.

"Ooookay! I think you got your point across, Cleo. Thanks for sharing." You gave her a look that said, 'Why the fuck would you say that out loud?'

“What? I'm just being honest." She continued eating her lunch like it wasn’t a big deal.

You could only stare in utter shock, blinking over and over, trying to figure out if this was a dream or if Cleo really just said that.

You spotted Dave in the corner of your eye with something not quite like disgust, but his jaw hung ajar. Then you noticed Todd and Marty staring at her the same way.

"I know you can at least agree that he has a nice ass," Cleo smirked at you.

You just laughed and resumed eating your food.

"I didn't know you girls for real liked guys' asses. I thought that was just a guy thing." Spoke Todd, teasing.

"Shut up, Todd." You said, making a short second of eye contact with Dave, it looked like he was thinking the same thing as you, and you both giggled in unison.

The others looked between you both weirdly, making the two of you clear you throats and quickly finish eating.

The hell am I being so giggly with him for?

———————

You had your last three classes with Dave, but you never acknowledged him. Today some of your teachers decided to rearrange your seating. You thankfully didn't get any seats next to him, and you hoped you wouldn't either at your last class.

"Fuck," you checked your wristwatch as you switched out your books from your locker, only to see that you were going to be late for the last class. You hoped and hoped that you didn't get another detention.

You made your way to the classroom as fast as you could, stopping right outside the door to avoid bursting it open and embarrassing yourself. The excitement you felt when you noticed a single empty seat in the back corner of the class was incomprehensible.

Until you noticed Dave in the spot next to it. He looked up as he heard the door open, immediately locking eyes with you. You sighed in disappointment, knowing that there was no way the teacher would let you switch.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for the rest of the year." Dave whispered as he looked up at the teacher, taking out his textbook.

"Fuck you, Lizewski." You sneered, only making Dave roll his eyes, keeping his attention on the teacher.

“For the next three weeks, you will all be working on a presentation. If you don’t have it turned in by the 18th, you will get 10 points taken off your grade.” The teacher explained what he wanted you to study. The class groaned in annoyance, some people being excited, and others not.

“Everyone in columns A, C, and E, your partner will be the person to your right.” Again, most of the people in the class were content with who they were assigned, but unfortunately for you, you were the person to Dave’s right.

You stiffly turned to Dave, “We can study at my house… If you want.” You spoke.

“Let’s just do the first parts tonight and we can work on it at your house after school tomorrow.” He spoke with a bit of irritation. Probably because of your attitude earlier.

“Okay, sounds good..” You awkwardly pursed your lips and turned back to your book.

———————

thanks for reading!

#dave lizewski #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson #kickass fic #kickass x reader #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski angst #aaron taylor johnson fic #fanfic #writing #iz writes #dave lizewski fic #angst #fluff

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tangerinesilk · 9 months

Text

－ I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER

tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other.

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later.

word count ✷ 6k!

songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter

a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.

but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡

“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.”

Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.

“Well, Thomas said-”

“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”

Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.

“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.

“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-”

“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”

“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.

“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.

“No promises.” He replied before hanging up.

Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.

“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”

The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.

“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”

“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.

“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.

Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman.

He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.

“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.

“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.

“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”

“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.

“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.

The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”

His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.

He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”

“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.

As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.

Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.

“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.

Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.

“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.

“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”

He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”

“Will you just trust me?”

“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”

You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”

“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”

“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”

There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?

“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.

The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.

“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.

“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.

He nodded, “Good…”

Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.

“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.

With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek.

Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.

Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.

“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you.

You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.

He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.

“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.

“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”

Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.

“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”

He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”

You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.

With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.

“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.

“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.

He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.

“Are you sure?”

You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.

“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”

He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”

– – –

You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.

“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”

Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.

“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”

“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.

He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”

The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”

This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.

“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”

“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.

The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”

“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”

“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”

He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.

“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.

Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.

“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.

“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”

“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.

He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.

“I can say the same for your pants.”

Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.

“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.

You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.

Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”

You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”

He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”

You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”

He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.

He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.

“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”

You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head.

Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.

With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice.

Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.

– – –

The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.

You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.

After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.

“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.

He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”

“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”

Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.

“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”

You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”

He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”

Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”

Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.

He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.

You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.

Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.

“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.

“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.

– – –

Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.

Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.

“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”

“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”

Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.

You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?

He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted?

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.

After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.

You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time.

Obviously, you regretted your decision.

“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.

Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”

You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”

He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”

“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.

Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.

“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”

You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”

He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”

Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.

– – –

Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.

“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.

You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass.

“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”

You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”

“For how long?”

You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.”

Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”

“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”

He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”

Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.

“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.

He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”

A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.

“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”

“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.

Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.”

Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor.

He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”

The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”

Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”

Darling.

It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.

You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.

“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.

Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.

“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”

But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.

“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”

– – –

In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.

Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.

He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.

He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.

Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.

Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.

Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.

“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.

You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.

“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.

He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure.

You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.

As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.

You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.

Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.

As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.

Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them.

“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”

You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.

“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.

He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock.

Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.

Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.

– – –

Then, it was morning.

The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.

Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.

You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.

“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.

He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw.

“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”

You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”

Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.

“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”

Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing.

Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine fic

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thygoddessouijathicc · 1 month

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Old Man Yaoi May Not Be So Old

So there’s a segment in the DSaF fandom that beleive Dave and Jack are visibly old men. I’m fine with it, I used to, and in fact love the designs especially because there’s seems to be an almost taboo of drawing old people to a point and it’s homely really great that people here are doing it, but I don’t think that’s actually true canonically like I used to. I must stress though DRAW THEM HOW YOU LIKE. They can be old or not it doesn’t concern me.

Both of them are corpses. In terms of age, yes, they are quite old, but corpses don’t tend to age. And we see this in DSAF with the Phones not aging visibly, perhaps it’s just that it’s stock photos but Harry, despite being Gen 1, is physically not old. Why? Because Harry isn’t alive. None of the phones are. The phones are just well preserved and act like living creatures.

You know what else isn’t alive but acts like it? Dave and Jack. While they’d be in terms of numbers, old, in DSAF 3, given their ages at which they died it’s unlikely they’d physically get any older. And don’t say some kinda magic thing because we know for a fact that both behave like corpses, especially Jack. Jack paints himself orange to look alive (a weird colour choice but I digress), he does this because his body is rotting, likely turning black or purple (this also means any cursed colour swap between the two, the Jack side may just not have put on his makeup yet lol). Jack is rotting, definitely not alive body behaviours. Dave also does not behave like a living person. How many of those do you know that can do what he does. There seems to be a consensus that Davetrap is rotting but Dave is too nothing happened to Davetrap to kickstart the process that would mean Dave could not have before, it’s likely the pests just got in because he was stationary and likely far slower.

Let’s also talk about their behaviour. It’s not great to go off of but Jack doesn’t act like a mature adult and neither does Dave, they act like they’re rather young adults still figuring themselves out. Jack especially is quite childish, as if he never got a chance to mature. You could bring up Dee, but Dee’s situation is far different. It doesn’t seem like Dee has actually mentally matured so much as she has been put in a position in which she has no choice but to take on a more mature role and tries to fit that, she has no reason to mentally age, and none of the other children have meaning if she actually got older there would have to be more to it. Dee is as old as she always was, any maturity added is not due to age but due to her situation. Dave and Jack are immature people, and with this in mind it paints a somewhat grim picture of the fact that they never got to mature.

One could mention the ending in which Jack dies of old age… but the phones also have beards here and Jack is actually established to be semi immortal so dying of old age just doesn’t make sense, he can die, but it seems like he gets back up. So let’s be real the beards are fake, and Jack probably ate something weird, and will be fine in like 12 minutes. The game probably ends when you die because it would be weird if it didn’t even if you do get back up.

The only time I’d say Jack permanently dies is when he’s burned. Which leaves no body behind, which by the same principle as the others, means there’s nothing left to come back which sucks for him because oops no soul either.

Jack can also get rabies but… this also doesn’t feel like a sign he is alive.

Dave actively does rot in the game as Davetrap, Jack rots constantly, it’s safe to say their bodies do not work like human ones especially considering not having organs is not something that kills Dave. At least not that we know.

With all of this in mind, yeah. They are corpses. And as I’ve said before, corpses do not age in DSAF physically or mentally, even Blackjack is incredibly immature if you actually look at his behaviour. He’s also an asshole who never gets character development but that’s a story for another time.

It actually makes more sense if they don’t age given the very little change in their behaviour or character between games even after a massive Timeskip nothing seems to have changed at all which makes sense logically too, because why would Fredbear give Jack the ability to age? Let’s be real here if Jack can age eventually that will become a problem given that he is immortal seemingly as long as he has a body to return to. There’s no reason to give him the ability to age and plenty of reasons not to.

Now that’s not to say their bodies don’t change, they do. And if you realistically want to draw DSAF 3 Jack in his most canon possible form… which I doubt many do… Jack doesn’t age he rots he’s probably just a lot worse for wear if he hasn’t found a way to stop rotting yet. Him being an old man is unlikely, but a very decomposed zombie? More likely than you’d think.

And before anyone brings up the tapes, Dave may just look like that, pretty much every piece of art in that game is by a different person who is not Doggo, while Dave seems to be a bit older Jack does not. The tapes are in the past if we are saying that is Dave’s age in DSAF 3, sorry no.

DSAF 3 has incredibly inconsistent art to a point I’d say fans can largely disregard it but that’s an essay for another time just know art in that game isn’t as canon as people seem to think it is. At least not by my observation.

Dave and Jack are old men in age, but not in body. No in body they are most likely the age they died at which seems to have been pretty young for both of them like we know Jack was in his early 20s and Dave is a few years older but also died at the very least a few months before Jack. They aren’t old men, at least not canonically.

I must stress I mean they probably are not canonically old because honestly the DSaF fandom needs to take a chill pill and stop being angry at people for making their own designs, literally do what you want as long as it’s not illegal or like super fucked up. Don’t make Jack 12 and Dave 60 and ship that, but if you want to draw them old be my guest. This essay was just my observation of the idea that the fandom calls them old men and people seem to think they are canonically but it just seems unlikely.

#dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #dsaf dave #dsaf jack #dsaf old sport #dsaf phone guy #shitpost #DSaF essay #literary analysis #again I must stress this is no slight against the people who draw them old #I love that shit #I’m just analyzing canon

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midnightstar-90 · 1 year

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Hey I was wondering if you cloud do a black!reader x Dave Lizewski or Todd Haynes I haven't really seen much of blackreader fics with them

Like a Princess

Todd Haynes x Black! Fem! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | Other Actors/Characters Masterlist

Summary: After Y/N’s birthday is ruined, Todd comes over, making the girl feel better. He ends up doing her hair and a little more.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Todd has a hair pulling kink (But NO Smut, Just Making Out)

A/N: I’ve never been good with writing stuff like kissing, so I’m sorry if this is terrible.

Words: 2.8K words

A girl’s 16th birthday is one of the most special times in a girl's life. Not only is she celebrating 16 years of her life, but she’s also aging into a new form of maturity. And for Y/N, that form of maturity was getting her license. She had been studying for months, and her father promised her a car fit for a princess on her birthday.

“So, what are you doing for your birthday, Y/N?” Y/N’s friend, Todd, asked.

“Mom said we could go to the Cheesecake Factory for my birthday. She said I could invite you all, also,” Y/N replied.

“Sick.”

“Sounds cool.”

“That sounds fun,” Todd, Marty, and Dave said simultaneously.

Y/N clapped her hands in excitement. “Yay! Okay, I’ll tell my mom that you all are all down to go,” She said with a wide grin. The boys all smiled at the girl as they watched their friend practically dance down the hallway. But something else, besides happiness, lit up inside of Todd. Something that made him want to protect the girl at all costs, but he didn’t know what.

Y/N’s birthday had barely started before a female voice, that she recognized as her mother’s, yelled through the house. “Y/F/N (Your Father’s Name), get your ass down these steps right now,” She yelled. It took a second before the sound of her father’s slow and tired steps made its way out of her parents' shared room and down the steps, just as her mother ordered.

Y/N watched her father through the crack of her door, noticing her father’s posture wasn’t straight and confident like it usually was. It was tense as if he were in pain. And he stumbled when he walked. Y/N frowned, knowing that this would only lead to disaster.

When her father got downstairs, all she could hear was the anger in her mother’s voice. “Where were you last night?” Y/M/N (Your Mother’s Name) asked Y/F/N. All she could hear from her father was some slurred mumbles.

“This is not the first time, Y/F/N. You keep doing this,” She cried.

Y/N didn’t know what was going on. But she did know that whatever was happening had to do with her father coming home late at night. Not wanting to ruin her delightful mood that came with her birthday, Y/N closed her door, not wanting to hear her parents argue.

But her time to herself was cut short when a loud, “What?” from her mother and a loud bang was heard through the floor. Y/N raced downstairs, but stayed hidden.

“Y/F/N, it’s her birthday. How could you do this to her?” Y/N heard her mother ask her father. Y/N looked down with mixed feelings of confusion and sadness. ‘What could my father have done to hurt me?’ She asked herself.

“Mom? Dad?” Y/N spoke, leaving her hiding spot.

When Y/M/N saw you walk in, her face lit up with a smile, as if nothing happened. But by the looks in her eyes, she could tell that something was wrong.

“Y/N, dear, what are you doing down here, I thought you were getting ready for your party,” Y/M/N said in a caring tone. A tone that wasn’t expressed just a second ago.

“I heard a loud noise and yelling. I was just making sure everything was okay,” Y/N told her mother with a nervous smile. She looked between her father and mother. Her father stayed slumped over the counter with a shameful look, and her mother stood straight as a pencil with a smile big enough to hid a lie.

But her mothers smile didn’t hold for long. As Y/N spoke, her smile slowly began to fade into a frown. “Actually, Honey, we have something to tell you,” Her mother uttered.

Nervous, Y/N slowly stepped towards her parents. When she stood between her parents her mother began to speak again. “Honey, your father is an alcoholic,” Y/M/N said, hating that she had to say those words. She never wanted her daughter to think any less of her father, but now it was coming to affect her too. “And he has been for awhile.” Y/F/N looked away, disappointed in himself.

Y/N looked over at her father with a sad look. “Dad?” She whispered quietly. When he didn’t say anything, she walked over to him and gave him a hug. He still looked away from the girl as he softly pushed Y/N off of him. “I spent all the money I had saved up for your car, and some of our money for the bills,” He softly spoke, closing his eye as to not cry.

Y/N looked at her father in shock. “What?” Her voice cracked as she questioned her father. “But you promised me,” She said as stray tears began to roll down her face. Y/M/N looked away from her daught, unable to look at her daughter while she was in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Her father mumbled.

Y/N shook her head with angry tears now streaming down her face. “No,” she whispered. “No, you aren’t sorry, because if you were, you won’t have done it. You made your choice. You chose alcohol over your own daughter.” And with that she was gone. Back upstairs to the only place she knew she could let herself go. “Happy fucking birthday to me,” She yelled out, slamming her door.

Y/F/N and Y/M/N looked at eachother, both crying. They didn’t know what to say or do to eachother, only that they disappointed their daughter on what should be a happy day.

An hour later, a knock at Y/N’s bedroom door appeared, signaling someone wanting to come in. Y/N lifted her head out of her pillow and said, “I don’t want to talk to you, dad.” Her face landed back into the pillow as someone walked in.

“Usually, I would make a joke about this, but I don’t think it’s the time for that,” Todd Joked, walking over to her bed.

“I told you guys not to come. The party is canceled,” Y/N mumbled into her pillow.

Todd sat next to Y/N on her bed as he looked down at her with a sad smile. Hesitantly, he moved his hand to her thick, nappy hair. He wasn’t sure if it was the right move, mostly because she had never let him touch her hair, but he didn’t care. He gently plowed his fingers through her soft hair, careful not to pull a knot.

“What happened?” He asked the girl, repeating the motion. He didn’t get a response from the girl. Instead, Y/N sat up, forcing Todd’s fingers out of her hair as she sat criss-crossed across from him.

She pushed the hair out of her face before she softly spoke, “My father is an alcoholic who spent all his money, including my ‘16th birthday’ car fund on booze.”

She looked down, burying her face in her hands. Todd looked away, contemplating on what to say. A few seconds go by before he begins to speak. “That sucks. But you shouldn’t let not getting a car ruin your birthday. Just because you didn’t get something you really wanted now doesn’t mean you won’t ever get it,” He said with a smile.

Y/N’s hands left her face as she let out a depressed sigh. Todd looked up at the girl, noticing how sad she looked. Dried tear stains ran down her face, her nostrils flared with every breath she took, and her full lips quivered as she cried.

Todd leaned over so he could wipe her face. “Stop crying. A princess should never cry on her birthday.” His words brought a smile to Y/N’s face as she slowly looked Todd in the eye. “How about a makeover?” Todd asked with a gleeful grin.

Y/N gave the boy an unsure look, “Mmm, I don’t know, Todd.”

“Come on. I’ve never done hair before, but that’s what the internet is for,” Todd said with a grin.

“I’ve never trusted anyone other than my mother and I with my hair. My hair can get difficult to manage.”

“Then you can guide me through it. Come on, Y/N. I just want you to feel better,” Todd begged.

Y/N contemplated Todd’s offer. On one hand, she had a friend who just wanted to distract her from the mess of a morning she had experienced today. But then there was the fact that that friend didn’t know anything about hair, let alone black girl hair. Y/N thought for another second before answering the brown-eyed boy.

“Mmm… Fine, you can give me a makeover,” She sighed. Todd’s fists flew through the air. “Yes!” He called out excitedly. His reaction made Y/N look at her friend as if he were crazy.

Catching her looks, he looked over at Y/N confused, and asked, “What?” She shrugged him off, as if nothing happened, and got up to get her hair products.

The first thing Y/N instructed Todd to do was wash her hair. That alone took an hour, leaving Y/N with a sour impression.

“Are you mad?” He asked as he and Y/N walked back into her room. She wore a towel on her head as she angrily turned toward the brown haired boy. “Y/N head is burning?” She spoke through her teeth.

“You told me to comb out your hair with the conditioner in,” He argued.

“Yeah, and you did, but you didn’t comb it as I told you to. I said comb from bottom to top. You did the exact opposite,” Y/N glared at the boy.

“How was I supposed to know?” Todd asked, dramatically throwing his arms through the air.

“Um, I don’t know- maybe the 1,500 times I yelled, “Ow”,” Y/N seethed through her teeth.

Todd took a deep breath before speaking to the girl once more. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t listen, but I promise the styling section will be much easier.”

Todd had lied when he said he’d be listen. It seemed that every time Y/N told him what comb to use, he would use the exact opposite of what she asked for. He aggressively went at the knots in her hair, but in the end it worked out fine.

Y/N decided to instruct Todd through a basic braid. She didn’t feel he was ready for anything more than that. And by the pain from the process, she felt as if she should have started with the classic high ponytail. But Todd didn’t do all bad.

Y/N stood in front of her mirror, admiring Todd’s work in the reflection. “I don’t know, Toddy. I’m conflicted,” she spoke as she looked at herself from all angles.

“Conflicted? For what?” Todd asked, confused. He sat on the girls bed, watching her with admiration.

“Letting you do my hair,” she replied with a scoff.

Todd looked at the dark-skinned girl, bewildered. He aggressively slapped his palm to his chest and grabbed it in pain. “Ouch!” Todd joked.

Y/N laughed at his antics before turning to face him. “You tried to kill me!” She exclaimed.

Todd was no longer focused on the conversation. He couldn’t help but block out everything but her laugh. It was a beautiful sound that allowed a peaceful sensation to wash through him, like the sounds of birds chirping in the morning.

“How would you like it if I tried to pull all your hair out at once?” Y/N spoke, walking towards the boy. Not listening, Todd nodded his head. It wasn’t until the girl went to grab his hair that he realized what she said. Leaning back, Todd shook his head frantically and yelled out, “Y/N? Y/N, no. Stop!” Y/N laughed as she pounced on the boy, causing the two to roll around, wrestling with each other as Y/N continued to grab Todd’s hair.

It only took about 3 minutes for Todd to tap out. Y/N sat on top of the boy, straddling his waist, and out of breath. Todd looked up at the girl, turned on by the situation.

Before today, Todd had always admired the girl from afar, scared she would reject him. But at this moment, Todd wasn’t scared. Taking a deep breath, his eyes scaled the girl’s body before going back up to her eyes. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” Todd mumbled in a breath-less whisper. Y/N’s cheeks grew warm at Todd’s words. Todd noticed this before slowly leaning up, whispering into the girl's ear, “Is it bad that I want to kiss you?”

The room was quiet. While Todd waited for an answer, Y/N sat on top of the boy with her lips parted. She didn’t know what to say. She was speechless. Y/N looked down at the boy, noticing his brown eyes that glistened in the light of her lamp. Or the soft curls that rested on top of his head.

Y/N contemplated the boy’s words before resting one of her hands on the boy’s cheek. As she leaned down, her other hand rested against his side. Todd’s breath hitched at the thought of how close their lips were to each other. A second later, Y/N’s lips collided with his. Their lips slowly moved against the others.

The hand on Todd’s cheek moved up to grip his hair. When she gave his hair a light tug, she felt a moan against her lips. The girl smirked against the boy’s lips and did it again. Todd moaned once more, grabbing onto the girl's hips. Their kiss lasted for a few more seconds before the two pulled away. Both of them desperately gasped for air as they looked at each other with hungry eyes.

The two were about to go for round two when a loud knock came from Y/N’s door. Y/N quickly rolled off of Todd, clumsily falling onto the floor, before the door opened. Dave and Marty walked inside, looking between the two. Between Todd’s messy hair and red face and Y/N’s awkward position on the floor, the two couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“What’s going on,” Dave asked, confused.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Y/N frantically asked. She stood up and straightened herself out.

Dave’s eyes scrunched at Y/N’s question, making him rebuttal with, “We did knock. And now that I’m standing here, I think we should have waited.” Marty stood behind Dave looking at Todd with an impressed smile.

Y/N saw this and scoffed. “Ya think,” she spoke, angrily.

“Okay, we're sensing some hostility. We were going to see if you maybe wanted to go out to eat, for your birthday. But since you’re going to act like this, we’ll just leave,” Dave said, turning to leave.

“Have fun, you two,” Marty added before leaving with Dave.

Y/N looked over at the curly haired boy, noticing that he was giving her a look that said that they should go with them. Y/N looked away with an annoyed sigh. “Fine, Dave, we’ll go!” She called out to the boys.

The two slowly backed into the girl’s room, giving her a smile that they knew would irritate her. They cupped their ears and turned so their ears faced the girl. “What was that?” They teased.

“We’ll go,” she said through her teeth.

“Okay then. Birthday girl, you get ready to go. Lover boy, you come with us,” Dave said, calling Todd over. Todd and Y/N looked at each other, knowing they would never live down this moment. Todd got up and left with the other boys.

Y/N watched as the door closed behind them before pulling a wide smile on her face. She went over to her closet, pulling out a baby pink babydoll top and light blue mom jeans. She put the clothes on and put on a silver chain her father gave her last year. Gripping the necklace, she moved it between her fingers, remembering the day her father gave it to her before going to put on some matching ankle strapped flats.

Y/N gave herself one last look in the mirror and left her room. “Ready to go,” Y/N said, leading the boys down the stairs.

“Wow, nice braid, Y/N,” Marty said. Even though she couldn’t see it she knew Todd was blushing at Y/N’s smile that appeared when Marty spoke. She was proud and he knew.

“Only the best for the princess,” Todd said with a smile as he went to open the door for the girl.

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14buddy22 · 1 year

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I’ll Spend the Rest of My Life Making It Up To You Series

Part 5 WC: 7.3K

Warnings: Hospitals, Nurses, Self-blame, Bruises, Police Officers, Angst, Fluff, Cuts, Scars, Cute Jack and Aaron moments, Family fluff, mentions of marital rape, mentions of verbal, emotional, mental, and physical abuse, restraining orders, custody battles, broken engagements, marriage

A/n: I really liked this chapter, reader finds safety in Aaron in this chapter. Next chapter, we really get going again. If I missed anything... LET ME KNOW!!

Series Masterlist // Masterlist!

Aaron was getting everything into Mason’s diaper bag, looking around your house, a place that was supposed to bring you safety, and it was a mess. He was trying to take pictures, trying to send a text, his mind going a mile a minute.

He finally was able to get a text off to Dave, just saying that he needed help at your home. They needed to collect as much evidence as they could and he was taking you to the hospital. Dave would know what to do, so Aaron wouldn’t have to be worried about that.

As you made your way downstairs with a duffel bag and Mason’s clothes, you looked at Aaron standing in your kitchen. He looked like he belonged there. You had this scary thought in the back of your mind that Aaron would be the one to investigate you if something were to happen to you. It’s strange seeing him in your kitchen. A kitchen you had once hoped to share with him.

“Let’s get you to the hospital. We’re leaving your car here. Come on.”

As he grabbed Mason’s car seat from your car and quickly installed it into his, you got in the backseat with Mason. You all drove in silence, quickly coaxing Mason back to sleep. As you and he walked into the hospital, he took Mason’s car seat carrier from you and began to talk to the Nurse.

You stood behind him, almost like you were hiding as if the nurse was your abuser. You were ashamed to even be there in the first place. Had you not left this relationship years ago, you wouldn’t be in the hospital right now. This was on you.

“They’re going to take you to a room. They’re going to have you change. They’re going to photograph everything. They will document every scrape, cut, and bruise. They’re taking you for X-rays at well. It’ll be lengthy, but once everything is done, we can leave. I’ll be out here with Mason when you’re done. Don’t worry about Mason. I’ll protect him. Nothing’s going to happen to you two anymore. I’m here now.”

Aaron went to go move to sit and you grabbed his arm. You were silently pleading with him to go with you. You didn’t want to be alone. You just wanted to feel safe and you didn’t feel safe with those nurses. You’re sure they weren’t going to hurt you, but they’re an unfamiliar face. You know Aaron. You know he’d protect you if he said he was going to protect you.

When Aaron realized you wanted him with you, he nodded at you and grabbed your hand. When he squeezed it, a part of you knew you were going to be okay. Somehow, somewhere along this deep mess, you and Mason were going to be okay.

Mason began to stir in his car seat and began to wake up. Before you even had a chance to grab him, Aaron grabbed him from his car seat and grabbed the diaper bag.

“I’m going to go see if he needs to be changed. I also am going to have the nurses call their local precinct to get SVU detectives down here.”

“No. Aaron, please. Don’t call them. It’ll be a hassle.”

“I’m calling them, Y/n. You’ve been abused by Jake for 10 years. It’s time to stop this. Put an end to it. Once this is behind, you can learn to move passed it. I know it’ll always be a part of you. I know that. But, it’s going to make you a stronger person and an even better mom to Mason. I’ll be right outside. I will be watching your room like a hawk, I’ll know who is coming in. Okay?”

You felt Aaron press a kiss on your forehead. For a second, it felt wrong. You shouldn’t feel comfortable in his arms, but you have no choice. He’s your safe spot. He’s your person. He was your best friend, and deep down, he continued to be, even if you hadn’t seen him for the past 3 years.

When the nurse came in, you told her to wait until your friend and son came back. You weren’t ready to be poked and prodded by foreign things and have them take pictures of you just yet. You know they were just doing their job, but you were scared. You needed Aaron.

When Aaron walked back in, he was cradling a sleeping Mason in his arms. He placed the diaper bag down and walked over to you. He didn’t miss the way you flinched when the door opened up. He didn’t miss how you flinched when he dropped the diaper bag on the chair a little too loudly.

“Dirty diaper and he’s now fast asleep. Did the nurse come in yet?”

“She did, but, I told her to leave. I-I didn’t want to be alone.”

You began to break down and cry. It didn’t help that you were just exhausted from the sleepless nights, the eventful day, and then the evening. Emotions were running high, you had a baby to take care of, and now you’re trying to think where you’re going to go next, and how you were going to afford a good lawyer to make sure that you get sole custody of Mason.

Aaron moved towards you and wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you closer. It was nice to feel loved. It felt good to be back in his arms. You missed that. You never realized how much you missed him until he was gone. Scratch that, you knew how much you missed him. You wrote to him almost every other day like you actually were going to send him those letters. Aaron was your safe space, and you didn’t realize that until now.

Bruised. Battered. Broken.

“Let’s get the nurse back in here. The quicker they take care of you, the quicker we’re going back to my apartment. We’ll talk through everything in the morning. I don’t want you worrying about a thing. You’ve taken care of your students and your son, yet, nobody has taken care of you. Let me take care of you.”

When you finally made eye contact with Aaron again, you couldn’t help but notice the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He was trying so hard to keep it together for you. It only made you want to cry even more, to see that a man had an emotion that wasn’t angry towards you.

After you closed your eyes and let your tears continue to fall, you felt Aaron’s hand come up to cup your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen. When you looked up at him again, leaning into his touch, you whispered, “Okay.”

You were going to get the help you’ve been needing these past 10 years. You were going to get help from the man you once loved all those years ago, the one you had never stopped loving.

When the nurse came back into the room, Aaron had got you calm enough where she could begin to take photos. You had asked her to see the photos, to see what else they’ve found, but you watched the nurse look at Aaron and then she quickly smiled at you and began to take more pictures.

He didn’t let you look in the mirror, he wouldn’t let you see the photos. He refused to let you see yourself in this state. The bruises developed quicker than he would have wanted them to, but, that just meant they’ll heal quicker.

“I don’t want you to see yourself right now.”

“Aaron, please. Let me see what he did to me.”

“No. Not right now, I can’t let you do that to yourself.”

You were upset with Aaron. Why wouldn’t he let you see yourself? It was your body you had to live with. You were the one with the cuts, stitches, and bruises, but he wouldn’t let you look at yourself? You know he’s trying to protect you, but from what? The damage had already been done.

Aaron had put Mason in the car seat and when he made sure to buckle him in and that he was secure, Aaron moved towards you and grabbed your hand. The nurse still taking pictures and documenting everything.

All Aaron could think about at that moment was how he was going to protect you. How was he going to make sure you never had to see Jake again? How was he going to keep you and Mason safe? He also couldn’t stop thinking about the letters. He still had to get through a lot more, but he didn’t want you to know that his team gave him the letters.

Especially when you didn’t even want him to read them in the first place. Every heartfelt emotion was put into every single word of your writing. He wanted to get back to reading them. He wanted to know every single thing Jake did to you so he could use it as evidence.

But, he also knew he needed to be there for you. You needed him more than ever, so if that meant it’d be a while until he read the rest of your letters, so be it. You needed him. So, he needed to keep you safe.

“It’s almost over, okay?”

When Aaron said it was almost over, you wanted to say to him “It’s just getting started”. You know he was talking about the picture taking, the statements the police were asking for, but you were talking about what was going to happen next. Restraining order, custody battles, and getting justice for yourself.

Aaron wished he would’ve been more honest with you. He knew that the situation was only the beginning. He just wanted to ease your mind with the poking and prodigy the nurses were doing. The constant clicking of the camera. The questions seemed never-ending. He was just trying to calm you down.

When the nurses were done, the doctor got your head stitched up, then the police finished asking you questions.

“Where is he now, ma’am?”

“He’s out of town on a business trip he said. He’ll be gone until next week, but at any moment, he could always come back.”

“Does he have a family?”

“He does, his father’s the district attorney.”

You didn’t miss the way Aaron’s body visibly tensed up, just as you watched the way the cop who was writing this information paused for the briefest second. You knew this was going to be a hard battle. Especially when Jake’s father is well-respected in the district.

“But, his father’s so sweet. He loves Mason so much. I don’t want a restraining order put against his parents and brother. Just Jake. I can’t be mad at them. They don’t know what Jake’s been doing to me.”

You cried at the realization of what you were saying. You were getting the help you needed. You were going to get out of this cycle. Finally. 10 years worth of abuse was enough. It should have been enough after the first 3 months, but you didn’t realize it was a bad situation until he hit you. It took you 10 years to realize that.

When the police were finally done, they stepped outside of the room with Aaron. Leaving you to put on clothes that were not bloodied or torn. Clothes that covered up the bruises he left on you.

*****

“It’s going to be a hard case, sir. Her father-in-law is a highly-respected D.A.”

“I don’t care what it takes. You have a woman in there, with a 4-month-old son, who has been in an abusive relationship for 10 years. Anyone who has come in contact with her should have seen the signs to get her out. You’re going to go and do your job and investigate. They have a D.A. higher up than Jake’s father who will oversee the case. You do whatever you need to do to make sure that woman gets the outcome she deserves. No custody of the little boy, jail time for months and months of abuse.”

“And who are you to tell us how to do our job?”

Aaron wanted to lash out and beat the cop who was asking that. It didn’t sound like the one guy was going to be any help. Aaron’s team might have to do all the work. If Aaron lost his cool now though, it’d be over, and Jake would win, not you. He needed to set his ego aside and think of you.

“I’m a supervisory special agent as well as the Unit Chief for the FBI’s BAU. I also used to be a prosecutor. I know that as long as you document the evidence, this will be a case she has no problem winning. You need to do your jobs. My team will get everything they have to your unit by the morning.”

*****

When Aaron came back into the room, he whispered to you, “We’re going home. Come on.”

After walking out of the hospital room, you felt like everyone was staring at you, and you hated it. You didn’t want sympathy. You didn’t want people to say, “I’m sorry you went through that.” You just wanted Jake gone and out of your life.

As you and Aaron drove in silence, you couldn’t help but keep looking over at Aaron. He really was your hero. He always had been your hero, even when you two were childhood friends. He would make the bullies go away. He would yell at the older kids bothering the younger ones. You always said he was your hero. You just never believed that he’d be your hero someday.

As you pulled into Aaron’s apartment, you carried Mason’s carseat into the building and Aaron grabbed your bags. When he showed you the way to his apartment, he carefully unlocked the door, making sure you walked in before he did.

“It’s nice in here, Aaron. Didn’t take you for an interior decorator.”

“Well, it wasn’t really my doing. I had help from the team and Jack likes to decorate for the holiday occasions. It’s nice, really.”

You both chuckled and he said, “Here’s your room. Uh, I snagged Mason’s pack-n-play, we can put him in there to sleep until we can get a crib. Why don’t you go take a shower while I put this together.”

“Aaron, stop. You’ve done so much. Go get some sleep. I will put it together, it really doesn’t take long. All I have to do it open it and put the soft mattress on. It’s okay. Please. Just, trust me.”

“Y/n, I’m not arguing with you. Go take your shower. There arere towels in the hallway closet. Take as many as you need. There’s also extra shampoo and conditioner in there as well. I figured you didn’t want to use Jack’s Spiderman shampoo and conditioner.”

You chuckled thinking about the little blonde boy using his Spiderman bathroom set. It made you wonder, would Mason grow up to like Spiderman, or would he like someone else?

“Thank you, Aaron. For everything. I mean it.”

Aaron smiled at you and you heard him whisper, “Anything for you” just as you were walking away. It made heat rise to your cheeks. You felt it. You saw it when you looked in his bathroom mirror. You chuckled to yourself when you saw the Spiderman-decorated bathroom.

When you got into the shower, you felt like you were scrubbing for hours. You were trying to scrub every bad memory of him off your skin. The only problem was that Jake was always going to be a part of your life, of your story. You just had to choose how you were going to move past it. Jake will always be a part of you, but he gave you one good thing. He gave you your son, your pride and joy, the little boy who kept you going.

When you finally got out of the shower, you didn’t realize that you were in there for nearly an hour. You quickly changed into some clothes, threw your hair into a braid, and went to walk into the guest room.

What made you stop in your tracks is when you saw Mason sleeping in his pack-and-play with Aaron sleeping on the floor right next to him. You know he was an agent, you know he as a father, you know he had to be exhausted, but for him to make sure your son and you were safe, it made your heart swell. To know that you and your son would eventually be okay, it made things a little easier in your mind.

You didn’t want to wake Aaron up. He looked so peaceful, but you know if you didn’t, he would have a terrible backache tomorrow and you couldn’t live with that. You quietly knelt next to him and shook his body, whispering his name.

When he opened his eyes and saw you, he smiled. “You smell good, like Spiderman shampoo and conditioner. How was your shower?”

“It was good, longer than I expected it to be. Come on, get up, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

You helped him up and when he took a step forward, you and him both didn’t miss the way your bodies both let the tension go for a split second. You didn’t know what spell took over your body, but you put your hand on his face whispering, “Thank you for everything, Aaron.”

He looked down at your lips, and just when you thought he was going to kiss you, he stopped himself. He straightened his body and whispered, “You know if I kiss you right now, this will make things complicated. I want to kiss you so, so bad. But, I just. I can’t right now.”

For a second time, it felt like you were getting your heart broke by Aaron, even though he’s right. You and him can’t do it. It won’t look good. You knew you always had feelings for Aaron. He was your first true love. He was your only true love.

“Goodnight, Aar. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

When you finally laid down in bed, plugged your phone in and looked at the clock, it was 3:15AM. You didn’t realize that Aaron probably was only going to get 3 hours of sleep if he was lucky. That made you feel bad. But, you didn’t have much time to think about it because you fell asleep.

****

When Aaron got up the next morning, he didn’t dare go for a jog. He didn’t want to leave you alone until he knew that Jake was in police custody and the judge got a warrant for a restraining order.

He decided to text Jessica to see if she was up. He wanted his little boy home. After what you were going through, he couldn’t imagine being away from his son any longer. Sending a quick text off to Jessica, he decided to start baby proofing the house a little bit. He knew Mason was nearly 6 months old, but he was starting to crawl all over.

Once Aaron finished babyproofing his home, he decided to go check on you. It was nearly 8am and Aaron remembers what it as like when Jack was Mason’s age. Jack was up bright and early every morning. Aaron just wanted you to sleep though. You needed it. Aaron wondered how many nights were you actually able to get a good nights sleep when you were married and living with Jake.

He quietly walked into your room and saw Mason playing with his toys while you were fast asleep. Mason began to smile at him and Aaron picked him up, taking a few of his toys and carried him out of the room. He shut your door quietly and took Mason into his living room.

He placed Mason on the ground and said, “Alright buddy, you’re probably hungry, and you need a diaper change. So, let’s get your bottle started and then change you.”

Aaron felt like he was in a twilight zone. Why did life lead him down this dark and twisty road when it would just lead back to you and him and some kids. Watching Mason crawl on the floor and play with some of Jack’s toys just made him think of how good of a big brother Jack would be. How good of a father Aaron would be if you and him had kids.

As Aaron changed Mason, then began to feed him, he found himself falling into a little conversation with Aaron. He didn’t want to talk to Mason about his father but he just talked about anything and everything. They talked about the weather, food Aaron was going to make for lunch and dinner, Aaron talked about Jack.

“So, Jack is my son. He’s older than you. I bet he’s going to love you. I know you’ll love him. He’s always wanted to have a little brother. He’ll show you all his comic books, action figures, his favorite toys, everything.”

Mason began to smile up at Aaron and Aaron smiled down at him. Aaron’s heart fluttered at the thought of Jack being a big brother. Aaron always knew Jack would make a great big brother, he just never thought it’d happen this way.

Aaron was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the little pitter-patter of very familiar feet yelling, “Daddy!”

After a very excited Jack hugged his father, he finally asked the question Aaron’s been needing to talk to him about.

“Um, Daddy, who’s baby is that?”

“Jack, this is Mason. He’s my friend, Y/n’s, baby. Y/n sleeping in the guest room right now. But, I was thinking would it be okay if they stayed with us for a while?”

Jack ran off and Aaron looked at Jess.

“I knew I should have warned him first. Jess, if he continues to lash out today could you just keep him for another day until I can get Y/n and Mason set up in a safe house.”

“He won’t lash out, Aaron. He’s going to be okay. Look.”

Jack came running back into the room with a picture frame. A frame Aaron quickly recognized. It was a picture of you and him from your wedding. He had always kept it framed in his office.

“Daddy, this is Y/n, right?”

“Yeah buddy, that is. If you don’t want her to stay with us, she doesn’t have too.”

“No, she’s your best friend. She can stay with us. I’ve always wanted a little brother.”

“Jack, he’s n-”

Jess cut Aaron off by quickly saying his name and smiling. Aaron didn’t know how to tell Jack that he didn’t know how long you and Mason would be in their lives. He wish it could be forever and if it was his way, he wouldn’t let you go. But, he knew the choice was up to you and he wouldn’t force or pressure you into anything.

“Y/n’s sleeping, but I was thinking since it’s Saturday… Waffles for breakfast?”

When Jessica left, Aaron and Jack began to make waffles. It felt surreal for Aaron. This was supposed to be his life that he dreamed of when he met you. He wanted to get up with your kids, make breakfast while you were still in bed. He wanted that, yet it’s a funny way of how he got there.

****

Your body was exhausted, your face hurt. For some reason, you thought Mason broke his cycle of getting up early. You didn’t even bother to look at the clock, you wanted to check on him.

When you sat up to look in his pack-n-play, you immediately began to freak out. Mason was gone. He was there when you went to bed. How could he be missing? You began searching to make sure he didn’t climb out, but then you heard laughter coming from down the hall.

Then you heard the cutest little, “Mason! Look at my spiderman!”

You let out a sign of relief. Jack was home, Aaron must have come in and grabbed Mason from your room. Which just makes you think what a terrible mother you are. You couldn’t hear someone come into your own room?

If that was Jake, Mason could be missing, or worse.

As you made your way into the kitchen, the scene in front of you made your heart stop from how cute it was. Mason was in a smaller highchair that sat on top of the counter, Jack was showing him his spiderman, and Aaron was making waffles, smiling at both boys. You took a picture of it. If Aaron and Jack weren’t going to be in your life forever, you were going to at least make sure you had a picture of this happy memory.

“Ahem, good morning boys.”

“Good morning, how’d you sleep?”

“Are you Y/n, daddy’s best friend?”

“I am. You must be his cousin.”

“Cousin?” Jack started laughing and said, “No! I’m his son, Jack Hotchner.”

Jack stuck his hand out and you shook it. You couldn’t believe how grown up Jack looks. You met him when he was just 3 months old. You saw him again when he was 8 months old. Now he was a 6 year old little boy.

“Waffles for breakfast, Y/n! Daddy makes them so good.”

You looked over at Aaron and then you saw the time on his kitchen stove. It was nearly 9:30am. You hit Aaron’s shoulder and said, “Why didn’t you wake me when Mason got up? I’m probably the world’s worst mom. I didn’t hear him cry. I didn’t hear you come in and take him. I certainly didn’t have a motherly instinct to wake up around 7am to feed him.”

“Y/n, relax. You’re not the world’s best mom. You’re apart of the world’s best moms.Mason wasn’t crying, he was just playing. I went to get him because I wanted you to sleep. You deserved it, especially after last night. It was the least I could do.”

“To be quite honest with you. I’ve gotten the best sleep that I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”

As you sat at the counter, Aaron handed you a plate of waffles. Jake sat next to you and Aaron stood up and began eating. He then grabbed yogurt and said, “Is Mason allergic?”

“No. But, I’ll feed him when we’re done. He’s okay right now.”

Aaron just shook his head while he grabbed a small spoon and bowl. You watched as Jack ate his waffles talking about Spiderman and the new comic book Jessica had gotten him. You began to eat while Mason tracked Aaron’s every move, smiling everytime Aaron looked at him.

It was pure bliss. You always dreamed of waffle saturdays with Aaron and your kids. It’s just a shame you had to go down the road you did to end up with it. While Aaron began to feed Mason, you chuckled as Mason kept trying to grab the spoon every time.

While you didn’t know how much longer this would be your reality, you just wanted to live in a good moment for as long as you can before all hell broke loose later on in the week.

You decided that since Aaron made breakfast, it was only right and fair that you cleaned up. As you thanked him for breakfast and began to clean up, he sat on the stool that you were once seated at and was talking to both Jack and Mason.

Mason was still eating his yogurt and trying to talk while Aaron would smile and talk back to him. There was hope. Hope that you and Mason would be okay. Hope that after a while, you and Mason would find someone who would love you and take care of you, start a new family with the one you began to create. Hope to find someone who will love you even after everything you went through, all the trauma you have.

That’s what you were holding out on. You were going to hold out for as long as you needed to to make sure you were going to be alright. When you did the dishes and looked around to put them back, you chuckled to yourself. Aaron had his kitchen set up the same exact way it was set up when you were together, all those years ago.

“I see things don’t change.”

“Well, you know, a habit. The way I had the kitchen set up was conducive to the environment.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at him, then proceeded to grab Mason from the high chair and moved him to go crawl around on the floor. You sat on the ground, setting up a barrier that he hopefully wouldn’t go and crawl into Aaron’s office.

Jack grabbed his toys from his room and brought some out to play with Mason. It really was sweet. You never imagined this is where your life would be 10 years ago. You also didn’t imagine that Jake would beat you.

There was a knock on his door that startled you. You didn’t know if Jake was there, you didn’t know who it could be. You moved Mason more into your lap and Aaron immediately got up, telling you it’d be okay.

You went into this silent panic mode, standing up with Mason, and moving towards the hall. It was like a fight or flight situation, although you knew Aaron would protect you with everything he had.

“She’s in here. Come on. Y/n, it’s Dave and JJ. They’re alone. It’s okay.”

You felt your heartbeat getting slower as you calmed yourself down. Maybe it wasn’t you calming yourself down, but it was Aaron’s voice, telling you it was okay. Everything that seemed to clam you down these days revolved around Aaron. You were deeply grateful for that.

“Hey Y/n. We just wanted to come by to talk to you and update you with where we are with everything.”

You walked back over to the kitchen and you heard Aaron telling Jack to go to his room to clean up for a little bit. You knew Aaron was doing that to get Jack away from your situation. You were grateful for that. You didn’t want Jack to hear what was going on.

Aaron sat next to you on the couch. He wanted to be there with you so you didn’t have to go through those frightful, traumatic moments alone again. You felt him place a hand on your back and you melted into him a little more.

“I know you already know this, Y/n, but with Jake’s father being as successful as an attorney he is, this is going to be hard.”

Aaron’s hand left your back. The one thing that was keeping you grounded was one that made you start to get nervous again. You started bouncing your leg up and down. You hugged Mason just a little bit tighter.

“Dave, you can’t say that. To hell with Jake’s father. We’ve taken down worse. We’ve taken down the chief of police’s sons, we’ve taken down internal affairs members. You can’t come in here and say that it’s going to be hard.”

“Aaron, I understand that, but I just want you two to be aware of what could happen.”

You decided to speak up. This was your life. Jake was technically still your husband. You and him did share a son together. He was always going to be apart of your life. You gave Jake 10 years of your life, when you should have been giving those 10 years to Aaron.

“I know it’ll be hard, but can we win. Can I get full custody of my son? I’ve given you all proof. I had the pictures and the exam at the hospital. I did all that, now please. I just want Mason to be safe. I know he’ll be safe with me. Please tell me I can win custody. If he doesn’t go to jail for what he did to me, fine, but I don’t know if I can leave him with his own son.”

“The evidence we have is enough that we’ve filed a restraining order. His father has been notified. The papers are going to be sent to him today, he’ll be served in this afternoon. You have the best working for you. But I want you to know that the system could be rigged when it comes to this. His father is the county’s D.A.”

You knew it was going to be a long battle. You knew that the minute Jake introduced you to his father. He introduced him as “the city’s most successful district attorney”. He was right. 10 years, you heard how your father-in-law very rarely lost a case. You were praying that this was one he lost. You loved your father-in-law. He was a very good grandfather to Mason, but you hated him for not asking about your relationship with Jake. You hated that even after you had just been pushed down the stairs, your father-in-law had still come over for dinner and he didn’t notice the broken picture frame that hung on the wall, or the way you tensed up whenever Jake got close to you.

“Dave, JJ, I want to go through with this. If I don’t go through with this, I’m just another living proof that these abusive men will win. They will win by scaring their partners. From now on, Jake can say whatever he wants, but I’m not going to back down. Not when I have a son I have to raise. I went through the abuse for 10 years. The amount of times I have showed up to the police station but was too afraid to go in and file for a restraining order because I was scared he’d come after me, or kill me. He took my life over for 10 years, it’s my time to get out. That’s why I showed up at Aaron’s office. I knew that if I didn’t come to you guys yesterday, I would have never went.”

You took a deep breath. You didn’t realize you had begun crying. You didn’t realize that Mason had been moved from your arms into Aaron’s arms. You didn’t realize that Aaron’s one arm had moved around your waist tighter as he pulled you into his side.

“I went home last night thinking everything would be okay. If it weren’t for Mason being alive, I think he would have killed me. No, not think. I know he would have killed me. I want to get out of this relationship. So, please. Help me.”

You began to cry harder and Dave and JJ looked at you and Aaron with sympathetic looks. Aaron passed Mason to JJ and Aaron had pulled you into his body. This was the 2nd time you were really able to admit you needed help. 10 years of trauma. 10 years of the “unknowing” what was going to happen to you everytime Jake stepped foot inside your home. 10 years of the verbal, mental, emotional, physical abuse. 10 years, and you were wanting to put a stop to it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No, you deserved so much better.

When you finally calmed down a quick minute later, you explained that JJ and Dave could ask for anything they want. They could have anything they need. You needed to be like an open book, especially if you’d be going up against Jake and your father-in-law.

Dave said, “Y/n, we do need to ask. When you married Jake, was there anytime from that point until now that you, um, had relations with-?”

Aaron was furious. From your side view, you saw Aaron’s jaw clench and his fist tightened. If Dave wasn’t his friend, he sure as hell would’ve punched him.

“Dave. I would really rethink how you’re going to finish that sentence.”

JJ then spoke up as well. “Hotch, you know if this were any other case, we have to ask. Did you two ever have an intimate relationship when you were with Jake?”

You knew you had to respond before Aaron did or else it would not be good for anyone in that room. The man was your best friend, your first love, he was very protective of you. Especially after what he had found out from yesterday and last night. You were sure he would not let you out of his sight until Jake was in prison.

“No, when Aaron and I broke off the engagement, that was the last day that we had done anything intimate. That was 12 years ago. Even for the 5 times I had seen Aaron after, all we did was lunch. Jake was so controlling that he had to time my lunches with Aaron. I hadn’t been sleeping with Aaron, I wasn’t sneaking around with him either. I wasn’t sleeping or I wasn’t sneaking around with another man. I was loyal. I still am. Even if Jake doesn’t deserve it, I vowed to him on my wedding day that I would be. I didn’t want to break my promises. But I promise you, there was nothing going on between us. If there was, trust me, Jake would have known about it. He would spy on us during lunches. He tracked my bank records, you knew he was tracking my car, had cameras inside the house. He’s not a fool. Jake has no defense against Aaron.”

JJ and Dave just nodded their head and quickly after saying a few more remarks, Aaron was walking them out the door. You took Mason from his arms and let Mason play on the floor while you yelled for Jack to come back out.

“Hey Jack, keep an eye on Mason. I need to talk to Y/n in my office. Can you handle that?”

“Yeah, I can dad! I’ll be the baby watcherer ever.”

You chuckled at hearing Jack talk like that. You knew while you and Aaron were right around the corner that Jack and Mason would be okay. You saw how Aaron had the corners of tables and everything else baby proofed and how he had covered up the outlets.

You followed behind Aaron, into his office. That man was on a mission and you’d hate to be an unsub.

“I’m sorry. They were out of line. They know better.”

“Aaron, you can’t fault them for doing their job. It’s only fair that they asked about us. I mean, I got into this because of you.”

You didn’t mean it like that. It wasn’t Aaron’s fault, you never wanted to blame him. Jake had always been so insecure of himself when he knew about Aaron. But the hurt you saw in Aaron’s eyes right now could make you throw up. You’d rather get back with Jake, get slapped around a few times, and continue to be married to him if you had the chance again to never say that, to never see him react to that.

“Aaron, that’s not what I meant. Please. You have to hear me out. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

You searched for his hand, but he pulled it back from the desk. Just moving to sit down in his office chair, leaving you standing in front of the desk.

“Aaron. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. The flaws in Jake and I’s marriage was not your fault. It’s Jake. Jake is the only one to blame for his behavior. He was the one who hit me. He’s the one who verbally abused me. He’s the one who hates me. You don’t. It’s not your fault. What really set him off is because I said I had gone to see you. I didn’t want to lie because I knew he’d track me, there’s no point in lying to him. I’m sorry I said it was because of you. It’s not your fault. I’m so grateful for you and, and for Jack. Aaron, I got the best sleep of my life last night. When I fell asleep, I knew that I didn’t have to be in a light sleep so I could hear when Jake got into bed. I didn’t have to fear that if Jake got in bed, he would force himself on me. When I was in bed, I didn’t have to fear that he would hit me if I told him to stop, to tell him “not tonight”, to tell him I was tired. I got to lay in bed and have a good night’s sleep because he wasn’t there, and I knew I was in a safe environment. I thank you for that. You saved my life, Aaron Hotchner. You did when we were in high school and you saved my life yesterday. You will always be a big part of my life. No matter where I end up in 5, 10, 15 years, I will always be grateful that you came into my life, that you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that you saved me not once, but twice.”

Aaron didn’t realize how much he’d be affected by your words. He was hurt, but hearing you talk about him saving you just made him more upset with himself. He should have saved you one time, that was in high school. He saved you once and you two were together until your engagement. Had that engagement never been broken off by him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Haley could still be alive living her life with someone else. You could have been his and he wouldn’t have had to save you.

But here’s the thing, he would save you every single day, until the day he died. Whenever you needed him, he would be there for you. He was going to make up all his mistakes and flaws to you for the rest of your lives.

Aaron had stood up now, wiping your tears, then wiping his.

“I promise you, I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, to Mason. You and him deserve to be loved every minute of every day. When this all over, I’m going to do whatever I can to make up for the 12 years of your relationship with Jake. I promise you.”

“I know you will, Aaron. I know.”

It was one of those intimate moments that were non-sexual. You wanted to kiss him. You really did. But you didn’t know if your judgment was clouded. Yes, Aaron was your first love. Your break-up was hard, especially when his reason for the engagement to end was a cop-out, but did you still love him or were you just grateful he was helping you get out of your relationship with Jake, helping give you a better life so that you could give Mason a better life.

Deep down, you’ll always love Aaron. You always held onto a small sliver of hope that one day Jake would just get tired of you and divorce and then you’d make your way into Aaron’s life, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen the way you wanted to.

“Aaron, I really want to kiss you, but, we can’t.”

“I know. I know.”

You were proud of yourself for holding back. Proud of Aaron for understanding why. As you stood in his arms for just a bit longer, you heard him whisper, “We’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

In that moment you knew he was right, but farther down the road, you wanted to believe in him so, so bad.

Next Part

Tagging: @8crazy-freak8 @angelmather1 @rousethemouse @lex13cm @mrs-ssa-hotch @comfortzonequeen

#aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x single mom!reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #restofmylifeseries

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ero-heart · 9 months

Note

Ok this was in my head for a loooong time

The main 4 x young hank! Reader

So reader is from another universe where they are hank and they are actually too young like 10 or 12, while in there world Sanford, deimos, and 2bdamned are older than them, unlike hank they are obedient and weak but they are faster than hank and too kind.

So what if the main 4 meet reader By them accidentally opening a universal portal that blasts a small hank(aka you) that's all beat up as the main 4 see another Auditor but the portal closes before Auditor could get to it and the main 4 find out that you are actually a ten year old getting their ass beat by Auditor

Also the other Auditor in the portal was enraged that a you actually damaged their non-physical form with a cute kitty knife :)

I love it! We love a murderous child!

Also, I am so sorry for the delay! Felt kind of unmotivated yk

Reader’s pronouns are they/it for this one.

Cw: blood, gore, mentions of violence

FUN DAY WITH KID HANK!

(Main 4 + young Hank! Reader)

(Obviously platonic)

Just another day for the S.Q, it was dark and rainy, people were entering and leaving the building, either returning or leaving from missions, or leaving for a smoke, like Deimos was. Standing under the entrance along with the S.Q guards, making a little chit chat, they didn’t mind that he smoked so he stayed there, Doc has been pestering him to smoke outside since the smell covered the entire building. Deimos don’t really care where he smokes so he complied. It was a day like any other but there was something wrong, it was overly peaceful. Everyone knows Nevada is not a safe place at all and any soothing and quiet moment is a state of alert for anything to happen. Deimos looked around the streets, strangers having a little walk, no umbrella to protect themselves, wet paper getting stuck on the pavement, full of rain puddles. Everything seemed weird and the anticipation was getting not only him but the guards as well.

“…So…did you guys sleep well today?”

“I did thanks for asking Dave.”

“Me too, thanks Dave.”

“You’re welcome yeah.”

It was starting to get awkward. Deimos dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, ready to leave when something shot right at one of the guard’s head.

“Fucking called it!”

It dented the cement wall, squashing Dave’s head and painting it red, the thing then fell on the ground. It looked like a purple ball. The remaining guard got in position as Deimos patted his clothes to find his pistol, remembering that he left it with his other jacket on the laundry room.

“Boss we have a man down!”

The guard called on his talkie as they both took upon the portal that is formed before them. A shadowed figure glared at them before it closed. They looked at each other trying to figure out what the fuck happened as the purple bundle sat up and began to shake. The guard snapped his head right at it. Little arms flapping all around, little legs kicking up and down, it began to screech in anger, dirtying themselves with the blood of the dead guard.

“A kid? What the fuck.”

Soldiers started to come out of the HQ to find the confusing scene. A little grunt throwing a tantrum surrounded by gore on the ground. Some tried to approach them, asking the kid where their parents were, but they were only met with resistance and cat scratches to the face. The child refused to stand or move so one of the more compassionate soldiers decided to lift them up in order to bring them to the boss, not wanting to leave the kid alone. Deimos just watched the scene unfold, trying to keep a deadpan face as the soldier was being hissed and scratched at by the little guy. He wanted far away from that kid.

Hearing their own name at the intercom was never fun, Deimos was already forming an explanation as to why whatever he did was wrong and he would DEFINITELY never do it again. Doc was always a pain on his side, being monitored 24/7 because he couldn’t be left alone or else “a ruckus” would happen, whatever that meant. That was the original reason why Sanford was so close to him to begin with, being tasked by their boss to keep a eye on the man and keep him in line. What Doc did not expect tho was that instead of being influenced by Sanford’s serious and militaristic persona, Deimos was the one who influenced him to be more open and rebel up. So the only change was the name beside his that was called. This case was no different. Both were walking towards Doc’s office, discussing what could have been wrong.

“You did not take the lemons out of the vents last time and I know.”

“I did! I remember doing it! I think.”

“The building is still infested with flies you definitely didn’t.”

Upon opening the office’s doors, a purple shadow just dashed past them, knocking Deimos on the ground. They could hear the frustrated groan of Doc who approached them.

“Great you idiots couldn’t knock on the door before entering.”

Deimos sat up and looked at his boss, taking notice of how ruined the office looked.

“Tf was that doc?”

“That was the child who was spat out of the portal earlier. The one you just let loose on the base. I am cutting your payment.”

“What are we supposed to do?? Like??”

“I called you here to babysit that abomination at least until we know what to about it. But since they just ran away, your duty is to catch it.”

“Pff NO WAY”

Deimos got up from the ground.

“Do we look like nannies to you?? Hell to the NO we are taking care of that kid”

“Do you remember your contract Deimos?” Doc takes out the document that was conveniently hidden on his pocket, he pointed at Deimos signature, written with pink glittery scented pen, the only one available on the moment of signing, he could still smell the strawberries on it. He rolled his eyes.

“Tch fine..”

“Hey buddy,” Sanford put a hand on his shoulder “s’not a big deal! We dealt with far worse shit than that.”

Sanford definitely regret those words. It was a game of cat and mouse. Sanford knew what he was expected to do on this job, but out of everything, THIS had to be the worse and most embarrassing. Following the bloodied stripes down the hallways led them to find the kid making tricks with their roller skates on the cafeteria, currently rolling on top of the tables, jumping on one to another and knocking the hungry hirelings food off their trays. Sanford quickly ran and jumped on it, dashing after the little grunt. He thought about what his mom would do in this situation. She always told him he was a very calm child and never caused any trouble, but when something did happen she normally said the magic words that got any kid excited.

“Hey kid how about we take a little break huh?? How about ice cream?”

They just spun around to face him and stopped on their tracks. Sanford was not quick enough to stop and slipped on a spaghetti plate and flew off above the kid and falling right on a wandering troop passing nearby. Sanford cursed and quickly got up, half apologizing to the poor troop squished on the ground and looked around to see that the kid was nowhere to be found. Deimos arrived panting and gasping for air.

“Haa where.. hoo where did the kid go??”

“I have no idea.. maybe the gymnasium? It’s the nearest path for them to disappear to quickly.”

“Yea.. maybe they have gone there..”

“You ok there buddy?”

“No..can we do a little pause??”

“We don’t really have time for pauses dude.”

“Carry me then.”

Sanford sighed and knelt down for Deimos to latch on his back. When he felt Deimos arms around his neck he got up.

“We can’t keep doing this all the time when we are in a chase bud.”

“What? It’s not my fault my lungs are shit!”

Sanford side eyed him for a moment because it was definitely his fault.

Going on the direction of the gym, Sanford internally cheered to see the red stripes on the floor to it’s direction. Busting doors open, both men followed the stripes until it came to an end. Taking their face of the ground, before them stood none other than Hank, holding the kid by the scruff of the neck. He was doing his daily training when the little grunt zoomed by him, quickly getting snatched by Hank and lifted to his view. Sanford and Deimos took a sigh of relief to see the kid finally contained. Both never wanted to hug Hank so bad in their lifes.

“Hank! Our hero!” Deimos slipped off of Sanford’s back “You got them!”

Hank just looked at the boys and then at the child, who was comically trying to kick and punch him to no avail. He tilted his head to show his confusion, not really getting what the two where on about. Sanford took the kid from Hank’s hand and held it at a distance. It was when he realized how.. alike, the two were. Both Hank and the kid wore long clothes that hid their skin and wore colorful goggles to protect their eyes. Not counting the helmet and roller skates the kid wore, also the skirt that matched their colorful pants. Other than that both were pretty similar.

“Huh..” Deimos seemed to notice also, looking back and forth at the two Hanks before him. “Pfft hahaha this thing looks EXACTLY like you!”

Hank just gave a grunt in response and turned back to finish his curls.

“Oh! Oh! How about we call them Kid Hank? Kank??”

Sanford shook his head “It doesn’t matter right now we need to take them somewhere safe and entertaining to pass the time”

“Well the gym seems like a good pick, there’sa lot of cool things to play with and climb.”

Sanford thought for a second, it might be a good idea, the gym always was a playground for him when he was a small grunt himself.

“Ok let’s just let ‘em roam free here, it’s best to lock the door so they can’t escape.”

The rest of the afternoon was way less stressful. The only thing they had to worry about was the kid not dropping something heavy on themselves. Or fell on something blunt or sharp where their skater gear didn’t protect. They refused to take those roller skates off tho, so management should go more harder when they wanted to jump on the trampoline. Currently Deimos and Sanford were sitting on a bench besides the water fountain, taking care of the kiddie’s bag while they hanged and swing off the polia, with Hank pushing them. Deimos played with the bag’s keychains, looking at the silly designs and colors.

“Where did a kid found those? lol”

He decided to snoop inside the bag as well, only to be met with countless of weapons, colorful knives decorated with stickers and glitter, sharp scissors themed after cartoon characters, nerf guns (with pins instead of soft foam darts) and tiny brass knuckle rings with even more stickers. Maybe this kid was more alike Hank than he initially thought.

“Take your hands off of this Deimos! It’s not yours!”

“Wtf bro I was just looking for a card or paper with this kid’s guardian’s info damb.”

Sanford chuckles at his friend’s antics and goes back on watching Hank play with mini Hank. To his surprise Hank was fairly gentle pushing the kid on the polia, never in his live he thought he would see someone like Hank be so delicate. Though everything went on shambles as Hank gave a hard push and the kid let go of the polia, hitting hard on the wall.

“SHIT!”

Suddenly the gym doors were kicked open by doc. Deimos and Sanford jumped while Hank just stared at him. Doc marched to the kid’s direction and picked it up from the floor, then marched back to leave the gym, passing by the bench to pick the kiddie bag too. The three only looked at the distancing doc on the hallways.

“We can stop babysitting now right?”

Doc managed to find a way to contact the Auditor, who gave him a portal opening device to bring the kid back to where they came from. Before he could turn to his office, the kid tugged on his shirt collar, looking up at him with a bruised cheek. Doc paused upon seeing it, quickly turning the other way around to medical.

M.D Skinner looked at the bundle on Doc’s arms being put on the mat, now sitting and kicking their legs. He asked no questions as he went to work, putting in some ice on the bruise and attending other unseen wounds on their body. They played with his coat sleeves during the check up, also taking a hold of the stethoscope around his neck. He let the kid listen to their own heartbeat and let them hold other medical instruments. Doc watched the scene with great interest, never really witnessing a caring relationship throughout his whole life. Soon when the child was all patched up, Skinner gave the results. The kid had some non reversible injuries, that was the lack of their lips, but it didn’t seem to impair them. Skinner gave them a little lollipop and excused himself, wishing the both a great day.

Doc took little Hank back to his office, that was still in shambles. He put them on the table, glad that they already seemed tired from playing so much and now distracted with a lollipop, so they aren’t as energetic as before. Taking the portal opening device and placing it on the ground, everything was ready.

“Ready to go home buddy?”

The kid nodded their head, they were kinda sleepy. Upon activating the portal, a shadowed white figure immediately bursted through it, with flaming purple eyes glaring at the two. The figure took a pink decorated knife off of its form and threw at the table, besides mini Hank, who immediately brightened up upon seeing it.

“This child was spat off of a portal earlier this day. It must be yours.”

The figure turned to Doc. “This little monster always causes trouble back there. It fell through it while I was trying to catch it.”

“Well it’s here now you can have it-“

The table was now empty, looking around the office only a purple blur could be seen entering the portal. The other Auditor began to shake.

“HAAAANK!!”

It immediately ran back through the portal, beginning another chase with the kid. Doc could only shake his head, feeling a strong sense of deja-vu seeing all of this.

That was kind of long haha I am really sorry if anything was ooc qwq I also drew kid Hank’s design for this fanfic! Hope you like it! Stay safe 💞

#reader insert #x reader #fanfic #madcom x reader #madness combat project nexus #madness combat x reader #platonic

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avenirdelight · 1 year

Text

A Friend?

John Stones

(ft. Jude Bellingham & Jordan Henderson)

No one ever believes it when they introduce each other as a friend. His teammates are no exception. [Requested]

John should’ve known better. No one was going to buy it when he introduced her as a ‘friend’. But he didn’t really have any choice, did he? It was the truth. They were friends, as much as he wished that they were more than just friends.

“A friend?” Jude asked almost in disbelief as he raised his eyebrows when he shook her hand. “Right. You two are friends,” he said in a teasing tone. A playful little smirk appeared on his face.

John glared at his younger teammate. They were all in the stands after the match with their friends and family. John had just been talking with her when Jude and Jordan came out of nowhere. Jude asked John to introduce him to the lovely lady. To be fair, John had mentioned her name a couple of times before in front of his teammates. Now that she was finally there, they could put the name into a face.

“What a nice friend you are, coming all the way here for John,” Jude continued. John was sure he was on a mission to tease him. “Must be a special friend then, John?”

“Manners, Jude. That’s rude,” Jordan whacked Jude on the back of his head and the lad acted hurt. Jordan then extended his hand to shake her hand and they both introduced themselves to each other. “I’m Jordan. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Finally? Sorry, uh… John’s mentioned me before?” The shy look that had been on her face was replaced by a look of surprise.

“He’d just been moaning about how the tea here doesn’t match his taste. Man loves his tea, doesn’t he?” Jordan glanced at John and for a second John thought that there was a mischievous look in his eyes. “He kept mentioning a name to Kyle, saying that this person makes the best tea and he missed it. Kyle thought that he actually missed the person though, not the tea.”

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh, come on. You need to go that far?”

Jordan and Jude got the same triumphant smile on their faces—John sighed in defeat and she let out a nervous giggle. Fortunately, the two lads were kind enough to let it go.

It wasn’t until they left that John found the courage to look at her. She just stood there biting her lips, her cheeks looked more rosy than before. John felt more embarrassed knowing that she was embarrassed. He was definitely going to give Jude some lessons later, and maybe, bring Dave the cat close to Jordan so Dave could give him a little scare.

“I’m sorry,” John apologised, running a nervous hand on his hair. “They can be like that sometimes.”

“It’s fine, John. I’m actually happy to see that you guys are getting along so well.”

“Yeah, imagine what I have to put up with every day.”

John caught her smile before he quickly looked away, mostly because he still felt embarrassed. They both fell silent and John could feel that it was suddenly getting slightly awkward. This was only normal, but it really wouldn’t be awkward if she was truly just a friend.

But she was never only a friend to John. He adored her—if he was asked to be honest right now, he’d say that he was really in love with her. She was the one he thought about when he woke up in the morning, the one he always wanted to tell Kyle about, the one who occupied his mind when he wasn’t thinking about football. It had been almost a year since things started blooming between them, but John had always been holding back because he knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship yet—she’d just gotten out of a serious relationship that didn’t end well—and he respected that.

“Ugh…I actually hate every time this happens, you know. This… Awkward moment.” John turned to her with slightly furrowed eyebrows, but she didn’t look back at him; she was looking far into the empty pitch. “It’s just like, funny, how everyone is surprised every time we introduce each other as friends. Like, which part of it is really hard to believe?”

John let out a nervous chuckle, unsure of how to respond to that. For some reason, he agreed. But he could also actually give her plenty of reasons right now why no one would buy it.

It was the way they looked at each other, the way they behaved around each other, and treated each other. There was something different, something special between them that was so noticeable.

“But they’re right, though.” She sighed, finally looking back at John. Her voice was low but loud enough for John to hear.

“About what?”

“About us. We’re kind of… More than friends. It’s always been that way.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You don’t think so?”

John shrugged. “No, sure. Sure, I do.”

John’s heart rate accelerated. All this time he’d always tried to convince himself that she felt the same way like he did—that there was something special between them—and now he’d just gotten the confirmation for it.

“Right. I mean, like, I kinda know that you’ve been giving me space, but… I feel like I’m ready to share that space with someone else.”

John couldn’t believe that they were having this conversation right here, right now. He quickly scanned his eyes around and thankfully everyone was busy with their own families and friends; his parents were engaged in a conversation with Ramsdale’s parents. John turned on his seat, facing her. He stared at her beautiful eyes and he could feel that there was something slightly different in the way she looked at him.

“Well… If you want to be more than friends, I’m up for it.”

She scoffed and then laughed, drawing a grin from John. She shook her head and stared back at John with what he believed as a fond gaze.

“That’s a very lame way to ask me to be your girlfriend, John Stones.”

“But you get the point. I can’t really take you on a date and bring you flowers now, can I?” His gaze then shifted to her hand and he confidently took it in his hand, giving it a light caress. “I promise I’ll take you on a date when we get home.”

She nodded. “Fine, okay. Uhh, I think it’s time for you to go?” They both looked around and saw his teammates started leaving. It was about time for them to go back to the hotel. “You go, then. Please pet Dave for me?”

John smiled. “Yeah, sure,” he said as they both stood up. He pulled her into a tight, warm hug and he wished that he could spend a little bit more time with her. He knew he would already miss her once he hit the dressing room. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered in her ears.

“Sure. You okay with the cameras?”

“I’m gonna make it real quick.”

“Okay.”

With one swift motion, John let her go from his embrace and gave her a quick peck on her lips; his stomach flipped when their lips met. She was rather stunned when he’d done it, a shy look was painted all over her face. She couldn’t contain the happiness so she laughed and John laughed with her.

“Okay, then. Call me when you get back?” John asked.

She nodded. John then said goodbye to her and his parents.

Everything had happened so quickly. John had just started to process everything when he walked down the tunnel. His heart was comfortably pounding in his chest and if Picks saw him right now, he’d definitely say “You look like an idiot, why are you smiling like that?”. He’d gotten the win and the girl, you’d understand why he was smiling like that.

“Here’s the thing, John.”

John felt an arm around his shoulder. It was Jude again. He looked serious this time.

“Friends don’t really kiss each other on the lips, you know,” Jude said.

John rolled his eyes and shrugged Jude’s arm off. He gave Jude a look and started to quicken his pace. “Well, that’s the thing. We’re not really friends anymore.”

Jude stopped on his track and he dropped his jaw. John wished he could have taken a picture because the boy was absolutely stunned.

“Wait— What do you mean??” He said, and John saw realisation slowly hit him. “Nah, you didn’t, mate! You didn’t!!”

John laughed in satisfaction and ran off before Jude started chasing him.

—

world cup is over but i still have a couple world cup-themed imagines, i hope you don’t mind!

i enjoyed writing this one, and it’s always fun to bring on the other players~ i hope you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated!💖

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #john stones imagines #football imagines #footballer imagines #john stones one shot #football one shot #footballer one shot #football fic #footballer fic #jude bellingham imagines #jordan henderson imagines #imagine #one shots #fanfic #fanfiction

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i-didnt-do-1t · 8 months

Text

“So, how long’s it been since yous talked?” Race threw an arm over Davey’s shoulder, causing him to stumble a step.

Davey frowned but didn’t look up from flicking through his pile of papes. “You think I’m keeping count?”

“You’re definitely keepin’ count.” At David’s silence, Race pulled him closer. “Tell me or I pull out the harmonica Dave-“

“6 days.” He relented, not even attempting to shove off Race’s grip. “You don’t have to start threatening people.”

Race whistled, “6 days? Don’t think I’ve ever heard a’ Jack givin’ someone the silent treatment for that long.”

Davey bristled. “It’s not like I’m talking to him either.”

“Course not. What happened anyway? Jack won’t tell me shit. Gets all clammy an’ weird when I mention it.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Duh. It’s you an’ Jack.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

The hand around his shoulder moved to instead slap his back. “That’s a first for you Dave, I’m proud.”

“…thanks.”

“So did Jack say something stupid? He’s always puttin’ his foot in his mouth but he don’t mean nothin’ bad by it.”

Davey snorted, “Somethin’ like that.” He paused, “it was about Sante Fe.”

The cigar dropped from the corner of Race’s mouth, the action not all that dissimilar to a dogs tail dropping when it gets upset, Davey noted.

“Thought he was over Sante Fe.”

Davey shrugged. “Guess we all did. And we got into an argument about it, and he got all defensive and stormed off and he hasn’t spoken to me since.”

Race went quiet for a moment. Davey went back to counting his papers.

“Jack ain’t great at knowing people care y’know? The fact that folks want him to stay so bad might give him the jitters.”

Davey glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

Race shrugged. “I’m just guessing. He ain’t mentioned nothing ‘bout Santa Fe to me.”

“Cause’ he knows what you’d say.” David said, and then. “I think he’s stuck in this weird place where he wants to go but he wants people to tell him to stay? And then he gets annoyed when they do. But I know if I told him to go, if I acted like I didn’t care then I’d only be reinforcing what he already thinks about himself.”

Race took a moment to bring his cigar to his mouth and inhale slowly, before turning his head and blowing out the smoke.

“You do this a lot Dave?”

“What?”

“Think so hard”

David’s mouth opened, and then closed again.

“I think a normal amount.”

Race snorted, and threw his arm back over his shoulder. “Sure. Let’s go find Cowboy.”

For the first time, Davey pushed against Race’s hold. “I really don’t think I got to-“

“Wouldn’t be counting the days of you didn’t miss him Dave. Sides’ what am I meant to do if yous keep fighting? Pick a side? I ain’t good at that and your both idiots.”

#newsies #davey jacobs #racetrack higgins #Jack Kelly

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samandcolbypost · 7 months

Text

Sam stop being stubborn and listen to Colby for once. DONT GO ALONE. 3 years ago taught you nothing? 😭

I don’t really think it’s accurate but at least the first part meats the first part is what I’m talking about.

Sagittarius

“It's not that they are stubborn per se; it's that they won't listen to anyone who tells them what to do. Sagittarians are adventurous and open-minded, so they're willing to consider new ideas and learn from people. It's just these free-spirited individuals cannot be controlled or manipulated.”

Sam really needs to listen. It wasn’t fair for Colby because it was supposed to be both of yours big moment, but I don’t think it’s right to judge Sam especially because it was something he needed to find out too. He could’ve just woke up Colby and at least let him know, especially for safety since no one else was awake during that time and something could’ve happened. Colby was mad and he had every right to be, also because Sam casually mentioned it while they went to the basement. 🤦🏻‍♀️ But they communicated in a healthy way so that’s something at least. (I’m actually glad to see that because now we know what they do when they fight and it’s even more of a reason to love them) yea show us how it’s done! Some thing we all need to learn from.

—

Colby threw the tick down only to go back in and grab water. 💀

—

Okay everything I just wrote didn’t even save soo I’m going to have to try again. 🙃

—

I love this down to earth moment after what they were told about “were okay” moment.

—

I hope Colby is okay going into the woods especially since they’ve been warned. We see him running at the end so I’m hoping that means he goes back to the house.. also hoping they have walkie talkies just in case.

—

We all know Colby is some kind connection because he feels energy sometimes, but can we talk about how twice Sam has done the Estes method he started shaking. I don’t know if it’s a connection per say, but it’s definitely weird. He felt like something was pushing him down, and the last time he felt he couldn’t even move. (I felt like Colby was still mad from the prior conversation because when he said “what were you doing” I was like 👀 I’m glad he realized to take him out of it at least, because I couldn’t even see him shaking on camera) I might be over analyzing why I think Colby said that too but anyways.

—

I don’t mind Larray and Bella. I don’t think it added anything to the video like some have said, but overall it wasn’t horrible.

—

I still am sticking to my box theory with Cody and Satori. I don’t think they’re horrible people but I also think they are lying up a storm. I feel somehow sound can be manipulated to sound closer and further away, and a lot of the sounds comes from Cody’s area..

—

Sam and Colby tried the method and it didn’t work except for what they heard at the very last moment. I kinda wished it worked for them but I figured. 😕

—

The camera equipment not working was kinda freaky I won’t lie. The fact it does this a lot even with their batteries being full. Also who or what was coming up the stairs?? I feel it could be the 4th tour guide or Zach, but how Colby responded on Twitter says otherwise. I guess the spirit just wanted to make an appearance in the video.

—

I’m rewatching clips as I do this to remember (which is how this got deleted to begin with 🤦🏻‍♀️). Anyways, someone just posted a clip and you can see something outside the window when Colby is standing by the window, either about to go into the well or when they finished the Estes method idk.

—

Props for them staying in the rooms by themselves I could never. Especially when it’s a haunted house and knowing anything could happen.

—

I could never go to the graveyard like they both did, and Colby going in the next video. Hell no. I don’t do bugs, ghost, the dark, and especially when I am warned.

—

Dave being a Dave 🤪😡 I’m kinda scared of Dave but I hope it’s just messing with them.

I don’t know how spirits can travel through the water? I thought they can’t leave the house unless they died outside or something. So I’m not sure how the aquifer could let them travel.

Somewhat of an Ep 2 review because I didn’t do it

Believe: Josh getting touched because he wasn’t even moving, the scrapping noise, the door opening.

Not believe: Satori and Cody, the one small door opening on its own. Do the owners/caregivers just stay there or something? I can’t say anything about this house if they are just chilling in a random room while S&C investigate. I think they stay in a different house but I also don’t know for sure.

I’m on the fence about the noises again I wish I could know the truth.

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #my review because I don’t feel like doing a full one right now #I did skip my review for Ep 2

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ethereal-bumble-bee · 5 months

Text

Goodnight- Jack Kelly

Note: Trigger warning for death, grief, graveyards, and mentions of homophobia (this one’s not fun, folks). Enjoy some angst!

There it was.

It was a small grave, nearly nothing compared to the ornate tombstones scattered around the graveyard, but it was all the newsies could afford. The headstone looked as if it was already crumbling, slightly tilted from not being put in the ground correctly. When they first bought it, it had no name on it, no chance to identify who was below the stone.

Jack had carved the name in himself.

Stepping back, blinking tears from his eyes, Jack could just barely read the inscription on the headstone. A pocket knife doesn’t do much in the way of carving rock. The words were a bit lopsided, tapering down at the end, but Jack could make out the letters and that was enough.

David Jacobs- Our Beloved Friend.

It was a shitty inscription, but the newsies couldn’t think of anything else to put on it. What else could have summed up the life of someone so amazing? What words could have described the way Davey had cared for them, for Jack, loyal to his friends until his last breath? Race had suggested looking around at other graves, but Jack couldn’t fathom taking someone else’s final words about someone and using them for his own. He’d done enough taking in his life.

They could have done something better if Davey’s family had wanted to pitch in, like Les had begged them to, but they didn’t have anything to do with their son up until his death. Even Sarah had turned away from him when he needed it most, and that’s what angered Jack to no end. The dirt beneath his feet was damp from rain, feeling as if it had soaked up all of the grieving tears shed upon it. Jack could practically hear the sniffles of the younger newsies and the barely-choked-back sobs of the older boys, and he was struck just for a moment with how unfair this all was.

“Sorry, Dave,” Jack whispered. “It ain’t enough, I know, but please forgive us. We did the best we could.”

Not that Davey would be angry. Jack knew that if he were here, the boy would understand, and he’d go and reassure each and every one of them that it was alright. He was kind like that, always there to lend a helping hand if you needed him.

If they hadn’t kicked you out, if you hadn’t’a gotten sick…

He knew that there was no use crying about it now, that Davey was gone for good, but tears poured freely down his face anyway. It didn’t feel real- like Davey would walk up, hug him from behind, and ask him what was wrong any moment. Davey had fallen ill so suddenly, deteriorated so quickly, that Jack could hardly process that he was gone.

Sometimes, Jack wondered what would have happened if Davey’s parents hadn’t turned him out, if Davey had never gone to them with the confession of his feelings for Jack. He wondered if Davey would still be here, laughing up a storm at something Race had done, and squeezing Jack’s hand when he got nervous. He wondered what Davey could have been- Jack knew he would have gone far. Would he have gone to college? Could he have been a doctor? A scientist? A schoolteacher?

It doesn’t matter now. You’ll never get to see.

Slowly, Jack knelt next to the grave, wishing he had something to leave there. Flowers, a note, anything for the grave to look less…dead. He brushed a hand across the headstone, knowing that now, he had nothing keeping him tethered to New York anymore. Since the moment Davey died, the strings connecting him to Santa Fe began to pull at his heart again, and he had made up his mind to leave as soon as he said his goodbyes.

“I’m going to miss you,” he murmured into the empty air, clearing his throat of the tears that choked his voice. “I’m sorry it ended like this. You deserved so much more…”

It was getting later in the night now, and Jack could barely see save for the light of the moon, the words he’d carved on the tombstone now shrouded in darkness. He didn’t know what to say, how to send his dearest friend and love into the endless night.

So he merely sat there, wishing he could kiss Davey one last time and hold his hand in the moonlight. He’d tell Davey just how much he cared for him, how wonderful he was- everything that Davey had died without knowing.

“Goodnight, Dave,” he whispered instead, a single tear rolling down his face and landing in the freshly turned dirt. “I love you.”

#newsies #newsies musical #fanfiction #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #angst #death tw #grief tw #tw death #tw homophobia #poor davey #racetrack higgins

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shadowsxgwynriel · 1 year

Text

Mistaken Identity

Day 1: Meet Cute 🥰 @sjmromanceweek

Gwyn tries to help Nesta breakup with a clingy guy, but Gwyn accidentally dumps the wrong man.

Ship: Gwyn and Azriel 💕

Word Count: 1,822

Read on AO3

“So, let me get this straight,” Gwyn said. “You want me to go and dump some guy for you? One that I haven’t even met or knew you were dating?”

“Pretty much,” Nesta confirmed.

“And why can’t you do it?”

“I tried!” Nesta insisted. “But Dave keeps crying and hyperventilating every time I mention the word breakup. One time, he even got on the ground and begged me not to leave him. In public. Do you know how many people were staring at me like I was a heartless bitch?”

Gwyn winced in sympathy.

“And when I tried to text him that we were over, he just ignored it! I don’t know what else to do. We’ve only been dating for two weeks, so I don’t know why he’s acting like this. I mean, most of the time I forgot he even existed!”

Well that explained why Gwyn had never heard of him until now.

”Maybe he’ll miss the sex?”

“Ha! We haven’t even had sex!”

Gwyn frowned. “Really? What about other things?”

She snorted. “We barely even kissed. It’s like I’m a toy that he wants to look at, but doesn’t want to play with.”

“What happened to your no relationship rule?”

“He put me on the spot. I said yes without thinking. But he’s not . . . he’s just not my type.” Gwyn had a feeling that she was about to say he wasn’t Cassian. She wondered how long Nesta would deny her feelings for him. “I really want to be single again, so will you help me out? Please?”

“Fine,” Gwyn said with a sigh. “I’ll breakup with him for you.”

~~~

Gwyn looked around at all of the cubicles. She normally wouldn’t show up at anyone’s place of work, but she figured that he couldn’t possibly make a scene around his colleagues.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where Dave’s desk is?” Gwyn asked a balding man.

He looked away from his computer with a tired face, reminding Gwyn of a zombie. His eyes squinted as if he wasn’t used to human interactions. “Who?”

“Uh, Dave?” She didn’t know his last name, but surely he had to know who he was, right? There couldn’t be that many people who worked in the building with the name Dave.

“Oh. Him. His desk is right next to the water cooler.” Without another word, he went back to typing on his computer.

Okay then.

She found the water cooler and came to a halt. That’s because the man standing at the desk was absolutely stunning.

He was wearing an all black suit and had his dark hair slicked back, though a few strands were out of place, like maybe he had a habit of running his hand through it. His face was polished and classically beautiful, and he had golden-brown skin with piercing hazel eyes. No man had the right to be that perfect.

What was she doing? She was here to dump him for Nesta, not ogle him.

He was busy looking over a file of some kind, so he hadn’t noticed her yet. Gwyn took a deep breath to steel herself, then she approached him.

Though she almost reached his shoulders, she still had to tilt her head just to look up at him. Gwyn tried not to blush as he gazed down at her. She tried even harder not to wonder if he liked what he saw—coppery-brown hair, big teal eyes, freckles. It shouldn’t matter to her what he thought.

“Hey, so, I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but . . . Nesta doesn’t want to be with you anymore,” Gwyn told him in a kind yet strong voice.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up a hand and shushed him. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, like this was the first time anyone had ever silenced him.

“No, no. There’s no need for you to speak, Dave.“ She placed her hand on his muscular arm—and okay, maybe her touch lingered for longer than necessary. “It’s best if you don’t try to contact Nesta anymore. In fact, it’s probably better if you just delete her number.”

His lips twitched and Gwyn figured it was time to leave. She didn’t want to risk him causing a scene.

“I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between the two of you, but I’m sure that you’ll find someone who is perfect for you.” She gave him a sympathetic smile before turning to leave.

That hadn’t been so bad. It was actually pretty easy.

Gwyn stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. The doors were in the process of closing when a hand suddenly stopped them. Her eyes widened when Dave joined her inside the elevator.

It was just the two of them, so admittedly she was a little concerned.

Gwyn cleared her throat. “If you try anything, just know that I have a black belt in karate.” That was a lie, of course, but she didn’t have to know karate to kick him in the balls.

He ignored her and reached out to press the emergency stop button. Her jaw dropped. There was no way he actually just did that. Just how crazy was this Dave guy?

“Are you serious?” Gwyn questioned him. “You and Nesta went out for two weeks! Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I mean, why can’t you just get broken up with like a normal person?”

“I think there’s been some confusion,” he said, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t completely batshit. Also, how dare he have a deep and sexy voice when he was holding her hostage?

“And what confusion would that be?”

“I’m not Dave.”

Gwyn laughed nervously. “What? Of course you are . . .”

“Afraid not.”

“But you were at his desk!”

“I was looking something over.” She recalled that he had been looking at a file when she approached him.

“So then . . .” Gwyn was almost scared to ask. “Who are you?”

The man—not Dave—smirked. “Azriel. And you are?”

“Gwyneth,” she mumbled. “Look, I’m sorry about, you know, mistaking you for someone else.” She bit her bottom lip nervously. “Um, can you start the elevator now?”

He eyed her long enough for her cheeks to heat. She had to fight the urge to squirm under his keen gaze.

Finally, he nodded. “Sure,” he said, restarting the elevator.

She frowned as something occurred to her. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get in trouble?”

Azriel outright laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have anything to worry about.”

Cocky bastard.

But as it turned out, he was right. Nobody said anything to him when the doors opened, despite the long line of people waiting to get on the elevator.

“There’s Dave over there,” Azriel told her, pointing at a man who just entered the building.

Gwyn squinted. Dave wasn’t Nesta’s type at all. She was honestly surprised that he even managed to get a date in the first place. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, but he just looked so mundane.

“Great, guess I can dump him after all.”

She left Azriel standing there and caught up to Dave as he was signing in at the desk.

“Dave?” Gwyn asked. She would double check, just to be sure this time.

“Yes?” he said cautiously. “Do I know you?”

“Not really. I’m a friend of Nesta’s.”

His eyes brightened. “I can’t believe I actually get to meet one of Nesta’s friends.”

“Yeah, just listen,” Gwyn said. Unfortunately for Dave, she had used all of her patience on the accidental breakup with Azriel. “Nesta doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

His face dropped. “Wh-what? But she can’t! We were just starting to become a serious couple!”

Okay, so clearly this guy was delusional. And he was starting to draw attention to them.

“Mr. Winston, if a woman sends her friend to breakup with you, then shouldn’t that tell you something?“ Azriel interjected.

Gwyn jumped. She was too busy dealing with Dave, that she hadn’t even realized he had followed her.

Dave paled, and started to fidget nervously. “S-sir!”

“Sir?” Gwyn whispered in confusion.

But Azriel had heard her. He smiled at her. “Did I perhaps forget to mention that I was the CEO?”

She stared at him in disbelief, mouth agape. “CEO?”

He nodded, amusement clear in his eyes. Well, she was glad that he seemed to find levity in the whole situation, because she was completely embarrassed.

“Why are you still here?” Azriel asked.

Her cheeks heated. “I-“

“Not you, Gwyneth. I meant you, Mr. Winston. Why are you still here when you should be upstairs working?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll go right away, sir!” Dave started to rush off.

“Oh, and Mr. Winston?” Azriel called, stopping him. “Don’t contact this Nesta woman again. She’s obviously not interested, so leave her alone. Do you understand?” His tone was full of authority, making her shiver at the sound of it.

Dave turned bright red. “I-I understand. I won’t contact her anymore.”

“Good. You can go now,” Azriel told him, and Dave took off like the floor was on fire.

While he wasn’t looking, Gwyn slowly inched her way to the main door.

“Leaving so soon, Gwyneth?”

She sighed, figuring that maybe he wanted another apology. “Just Gwyn is fine. And once again, I’m really sorry for earlier.”

“I like Gwyneth. It’s a beautiful name,” Azriel said.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Can I walk you to your car?”

“I don’t have a car.”

He frowned. “Then how did you get here?“

“I took the bus.”

Azriel looked at his watch. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes. I’ll have my driver take you home.”

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that my intentions are purely selfish.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”

“I want to take you out on a date,” he informed her causally. “And in order to do that, I need to make sure that you get home safely.”

Wait a second. “Did you just say you want to take me out on a date?”

“I did.”

“But why?”

Azriel smiled. “What can I say? You had me hooked from the moment you opened your mouth.”

Gwyn couldn’t help but return the smile. “Well . . . I guess maybe it would be nice to get a ride home. If you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble?”

“Of course not. And how about that date?”

This wasn’t how Gwyn pictured her day going, but she certainly wasn’t about to complain. Nor was she going to turn down a date with a very attractive man.

“Does tomorrow work for you?” she asked him.

“Just one sec.” Azriel pulled out his phone and typed something, presumably a text or email. “My schedule just cleared up,” he told her.

“Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His eyes gleamed with something that made her pulse race. “I look forward to tomorrow, Gwyneth.”

#sjmromanceweek2023 #gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #meet cute

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acradelius · 1 year

Note

Hi, um I would like to make a request for love death and robots more specifically bad traveling from season 3 Torrin x mermaid reader were he and his crew capture her, Torrin fall's in love with her and now he's trying to protect and release her. I was thinking that maybe mermaid's are a weird creature so that makes her a special one, ( a little like "the shape of water" from Guillermo del Toro) maybe at the end she help or dave Torrin from the thanapod, i'm sorry if it's too much, I just got a little excited.

"Shape Of Us"

Fandom: Love, Death + Robots

Reference: (Season 3) Episode - "Bad Traveling"

Pairing: Torrin x F!Mermaid!Reader

Rating: Lime [🟢] (Equivalent to PG-13)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Alientic Environment/World Building, Alientic/Human Relations, Slight Fluff, Secretive Relationship, Murder, Death of Others, Alientic Threats, Kissing, Detailing of Violence, Open Ending

Word Count: 1,646 Words

Author's Note: DEFINITELY recommend Love, Death, + Robots for those who haven't checked it out already. Amazing pieces of work.

It had been quite difficult to determine exactly how many days and nights had already passed by. Instead of being cooperative, instead of allowing her to give some sort of treasury or information that would lead them to great treasure in exchange for her freedom, the crew had decided that (Y/N) was much more valuable to them than any sort of treasure that she could offer them. Therefore here she currently was, and had been, being held captive within a rickety, shabby bathtub that was located in the corner of the crew’s quarters. From the faint light that seeped through some cracks within the ship’s body and into the quarters (Y/N) was somewhat able to tell how many days had passed, but even then she was struggling to keep count. It had been that way for an uncertain amount of time before she had managed to form communication with one of the crew’s first mates, the first member of the crew who didn’t look at her with disgust or just the obvious thought of becoming a quick cash grab to split between them all.

“Torrin, that’s what you may address me as,” he had spoken, all while being hesitant, whether it was from caution of someone coming in and getting the wrong idea or possibly the curiosity of the species (Y/N) just so happened to be, seeing that they happened to be a more uncommon alien creature residing in the ocean. One of the many species that kept to themselves in the depths of the deep ocean. “You’ve been here for quite some time, and it’s difficult to tell how longer they will keep you here, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you get home.” Torrin reassures her, making small conversation within the darkness of the nights when the rest of the crew are sleeping. Small talk eventually turns into gentle touches, gentle kisses followed with whispered “I love yous”, taking strolls along the deck which turns into slow dancing underneath the moonlight. Yet, tonight wasn’t looking to be one of those nights. Not with the way that Torrin was pacing throughout the crew’s quarters as his eyebrows are furrowed in deep thought, hand resting upon his chin. There are some moments of silence all while (Y/N) attempts to figure out exactly what had happened earlier throughout that look upon Torrin’ face, considering the amount of commotion that had been going on upon the deck, but (Y/N) hadn’t been able to see what had exactly happened.

“There’s something that we need to discuss, darling,” Torrin begins, finally coming out of his thoughts as he makes way to the tub, kneeling down to be at level with (Y/N), hand moving to caress her face. “What exactly do you mean, Torrin? Is there something wrong? Amongst the crew? With the ship?” (Y/N) questions, unsure of exactly what the situation was, but figured it must’ve been serious seeing that Torrin needed to discuss it with her. Torrin begins to explain the situation, describing the turmoil and chaos of the Thanapod that had made its way aboard upon the ship and had demanded transportation to a nearby, civilized island known as Phaiden Island. He describes how the creature makes its hunger known and that Torrin had to sacrifice some of the crew already to momentarily satisfy the beast, which not only frightened but had also angered the crew as well. “They were angered that you weren’t used to satisfying the creature’s hunger, seeing that you had stated you had been trying to escape it within the first place. They want to try and use you next, but I promise, I won’t let that happen.” It was quite lovely, seeing the way that he had vowed (Y/N)’s life and safety over his own, one that was responded to with a deepened kiss. “Don’t worry, my love. I had the capabilities of keeping us within safety measures as well.”

🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧

“They’re advancing,” Informing Torrin about the rebelling crew’s advancements towards the captain’s quarters, Torrin hiding stealthily within the darkness of the room, (Y/N) herself hiding within the darkness behind the doors leading out to the deck, hunched over in preparations to attack. There were a handful of the remaining crew members that were armed with some sort of weapon, having reached the doors now, assuming that Torrin was sound asleep in the bed across the room. There was not time to inform Torrin that they were at the door, but she initially didn’t have to as they made way into the quarters and over towards the bed, proceeding to attack it so viciously, (Y/N) quietly snickering at how those sneers of victory had quickly taken over their face but had been so quickly to fall at the realization that Torrin wasn’t in the bed at all. That they had no clue as to where he was currently at. This was her chance to create a distraction before they were able to discover his hiding location, emitting a low growl and barring her serrated, ragged teeth to them. Lunging towards the closest individual, making sure to cause much damage by tearing away at the skin with her teeth and claws, groaning slightly at the sudden, intense metallic taste within her mouth. It doesn’t take much for both Torrin and (Y/N) to eliminate the remaining individuals in the moments of shock, both being covered in their blood within the ending of it.

There’s some moments of silence that bestow upon the remaining two as they stand there to catch their breath, catching and maintaining eye contact with one another. Unintentionally the two individuals take steps to enclose the space between them before entangling limbs around each other all wrapped around each other as they engage in a passionate kiss, softly whispering each other’s names as if the reality of possibly losing each other has finally settled within their minds. Torrin didn’t mind the difference of physical aspect between himself and (Y/N), how despite that her physique was slightly human, but the features and detailing of her were more of an exotic, marine life creature. Being romantic with each other, being in a committed relationship with each other was something that they both knew would be something difficult due to the opinions of others, the differences in their anatomy, but that wouldn’t stop them. Not especially if they were to survive and be able to thrive after not only dealing with the Thanapod that was still moaning about being hungry underneath them. “You remember the plan, yes?” Whispering, Torrin proceeds to rub his thumb across (Y/N)’s cheeks, watching as she nodded. “You’ll deal with the Thanapod, I’ll work out the escape plan.” (Y/N) repeated the process that had been discussed many times, nodding before stepping away from him. “Torrin, you better make it out alive.” She merely stated, sincerely smiling before moving out of the room to her position.

🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧

It would be something admirable to be able to simply watch the scene unfold from afar, watching as the bright, scorching flames engulfed and slowly ate away at the wood of the ship, pieces breaking off and floating away with the waves of the ocean. Yet, unfortunately, that was not the way that it currently was. Listening to the bellow screeching of anger of betrayal and pain of being engulfed by the flames that came from the Thanapod echoed throughout the air, a little tip that (Y/N) was able to give Torrin based on a past experience of watching some ship crew take down a Thanapod with fire. Anxiously waiting there with the escape boat, eyes frantically searching for him amongst the flames and the flying debris, (Y/N) yelling out Torrin’s name in the midst of the explosion that took place on the boat. For a moment, there had been nothing. No sign of Torrin, no sign of the Thanapod, no sign of life whatsoever. Here (Y/N) had believed that she was once again all alone in this strange, alientic life. That was till she had caught sight of Torrin rising up to the water surface, coughing and spitting up water.

It doesn’t take long to get him within the boat, making sure that he’s okay from having come face to face with the Thanapod himself, which she would admit that she had felt something similar to guilt. “Are you going to be heading to Phaiden Island now?” (Y/N) questions after some minutes of rowing away from the ship, taking in the sight of how the light from the flickering flames made Torrin’s skin seemingly glow. “That is the plan, yes.” A moment of silence, a mere moment of a slight aching feeling within her chest. “I’m not able to go with you that far, you know that Torrin. The people.. Won’t accept someone such as I, especially being with someone such like you.” There’s the painstaking moment of silence as (Y/N) tries to read whatever thoughts were on Torrin’s mind but becomes confused by the smile that appears upon his face. “Don’t worry, darling. There was no chance that I had planned on staying there permanently, not when I have you now.” A soft laugh, standing up before glancing down into the water below them. “So, then your plan is for us to set sail upon the sea after gaining another boat? Hopefully without another Thanapod trying to put us in shambles once more?” It’s that moment that the smile on his face grows, acknowledging her words with a nod. “I’ll be waiting for you then, Torrin.” As she proceeds to jump off the boat and into the water, swimming down into the depths to find a temporary home, at least until he comes to retrieve her, Torrin responds, “And I, you, (Y/N).”

#love death and robots #bad traveling #torrin x reader #x female reader #x mermaid reader #lime rating #requests?! thank you<3

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year

Text

Reset

Emily gets hurt on a case and Aaron looks after her.

-x-

Just some Sunday night fluff/hurt comfort for you all, with a few tropes thrown in for good measure <3

-x-

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Mentions of injury/hospitalisation

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It happens quickly.

The unsub was more prepared than they were expecting. The door they were about to head through flies open, and as the person who was standing closest to it, Emily is thrown backwards, losing her footing through the force of it.

She hits the wall hard and feels her shoulder dislocate. Intense pain suddenly spreads through her arm and upper body, leaving her breathless. The sound of it, the loud pop that feels like it vibrates throughout her head, briefly makes her feel nauseous. She curses, her left hand coming up to press into her right shoulder, grimacing when she can feel that it is the wrong shape. For a moment everything else disappears, all of her senses honing in on the pain radiating down her arm and across her chest.

“Fuck,” she chokes out, trying to catch her breath.

“Em, you ok?”

She opens her eyes to see Aaron kneeling right in front of her, concern etched into every part of his face, and she knows she’s not looking at her boss right now but at her boyfriend. Their relationship was still relatively new. It had only been three months since their first date, a tentative kiss shared outside of her apartment as he walked her home that immediately turned into more as she dragged him in through the door. The team still didn’t know about them, something she is as keenly aware of in this moment as she is of the pain ripping through her. She looks at them, all standing behind him before she looks back at him.

Her initial reaction is to nod, to say she’s ok, but the mere movement makes pain travel through her arm again, somehow making the numbness she can already feel in her fingers worse. Fire dancing along her nerve endings.

“No,” she groans, forcing a smile as her eyes meet his, “My shoulder dislocated.”

Aaron’s eyes flick to her shoulder before he looks at her face again, a smile she knows he means to be reassuring forming. “Ok, we’ll get you to the hospital-”

“No, it’s ok,” she says, grunting as shaking her head makes her shoulder hurt even more, “We need to catch-”

“Em,” he cuts over her, something close to affection she knows he wouldn’t usually show her in front of the others shining in his eyes, “We got him,” he explains tilting his head back to where Derek was leading the unsub down the hallway to hand him off to a local cop, “Did you not notice?”

She hadn’t noticed. The arrest and the chaos that must have ensued in the few seconds after she hit the wall clearly completely passed her by.

“I was a little busy having my arm knocked out of its socket,” she replies through her teeth, “It’s ok, you have work to here still. Just pop it back in and I’ll be fine.”

Aaron stares at her for a second, a beat of silence between them as he frowns at her, reaching out to cup the back of her head, his eyes searching hers for something. “Did you hit your head too?”

“No. What?” She asks confused, looking past him briefly to see if the team have noticed their physical closeness, the way he’s touching her.

“Because you must be concussed if you think I’m popping your shoulder back into place.”

She sighs, rolling her eyes at him, “Aaron-”

“I’m taking you to the hospital, and that's final. Dave can manage what’s left to do here.”

She licks her lower lip, her tongue sticking out to moisten it as she tries to think of a way to argue with him, but she knows she won’t win this one. She’s highly aware of the rest of the team in the hallway still, all clearly pretending they weren’t watching them with interest, half listening to local cops as they discuss the next steps and what to do with the crime scene.

“Fine,” she relents, her left hand still pressing tightly into her injured shoulder. She swallows thickly, offering him a half smile as she looks back at him, lowering her voice so only he can hear her, “You’re going to have to help me up.”

Aaron nods, knowing the admittance shows just how much pain she must be in, that she’s not even going to try to get up by herself. He places his hand on her thigh and squeezes tightly, his thumb delicate against the material of her pants.

“It’s going to hurt.”

“I know,” she replies, removing her hand from her shoulder and placing it over his on her leg, “Let’s just get it over with.”

He squeezes her leg once more before standing up and placing himself in front of her. He puts one arm around her good shoulder and the other around her waist.

“Want me to count?”

“Just fucking do it, Aaron.”

He nods again before doing just that, pulling her to an upright position. She yells out in pain, unable to contain it no matter how much she tries. She ends up pressing her face into his shoulder, the sound somewhat muffled by his jacket.

“Fuck,” she gets out between her teeth, gripping him with her good hand.

“I know, baby,” he says, the moniker slipping out despite where they were, her pain overriding the need to pretend they weren’t together in front of the team. He was sure they’d figured it out by now anyway, the way he’d literally dropped everything the second Emily had hit the wall, “I know it hurts. You ready to go? I’ll drive you to the hospital, it will be quicker than waiting for an ambulance.”

She nods against him, her breath shaking slightly as she pulls back, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Aaron smiles encouragingly at her before leading her towards the elevator, careful to ensure he jostles her injured arm as little as possible. As they walk past the team he sees Derek and Dave both open their mouths to say something, and he puts the hand that isn’t on Emily’s lower back up, silencing them before they even speak.

“Not now.”

They are mercifully quiet as they wait for the elevator, simply keeping their eyes on the couple as they wait for it to arrive, their gaze never shifting until Emily and Aaron disappear from view.

“How long has that been going on?” Derek asks the second they are gone, turning back to look at the rest of the team.

“I have no idea,” Dave replies, his eyebrows creasing together as he looks at JJ, “Did you know?”

She shakes her head, “I thought she was seeing someone…but I had no idea it was Hotch.”

“What are we talking about?” Spencer asks, his confusion clear as he looks back and forth between his colleagues.

“Emily and Hotch are together, Spence,” JJ says, exchanging a smirk with Derek, “Did you not pick up on that?”

His confusion becomes deeper his eyebrows furrowed, “I already knew that, I saw them kissing in the parking garage a few weeks ago. Based on that, and an analysis of their recent behaviour I calculate that they’ve been together for around 2 to 3 months. I thought we were talking about something new.”

There’s a moment of silence as they all stare at him, and Derek regains the ability to speak first.

“Wait, what?”

___

“This hurts so much more than I remember,” she grimaces, readjusting on the hospital bed to try and get comfortable, pressing the icepack the nurse had given her on arrival into her still injured shoulder.

“You’ve dislocated your shoulder before?” Aaron asks, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed and wordlessly taking over holding the icepack in place. She smiles gratefully at him as she lets her good arm drop down, her fingers tingling from the cold.

“Yes, when I was 17,” she says, chuckling when he raises his eyebrow at her, clearly wanting the whole story, “We were living in Spain at the time. I was out past my curfew and fell off the trellis as I was trying to climb into my bedroom window,” she blushes slightly when he smiles, adoration flowing off of him like a cologne she could never get enough of, “Mother found me laying on the lawn and had her driver take me to hospital.”

“She didn’t go with you herself?” Aaron asks, placing his spare hand on her leg, “She didn’t hold your hand as you had it reset?”

She laughs, wincing as the movement jolts her shoulder, “You’ve met my mother, does she seem like the hand-holding type?” She quips, a smile he can see straight through spreading over her face.

Aaron squeezes her leg and leans forward to kiss her cheek, then her lips before pulling back to smile at her softly. She liked to act as if she wasn’t affected by her mother’s actions, always smiling or joking when she spoke about moments from her childhood that clearly hurt her, but he knew her better than that. Ever since they’d got together he’d seen so much more of what she kept hidden from everyone, tiny bits of herself that she was letting him see.

“Want me to hold your hand this time?” He offers, and she rolls her eyes at him. She’s unable to stop her smile from widening at his offer, love that neither of them had admitted to yet bubbling up in her belly.

“I think I can manage, honey,” she says, biting her lower lip, “It’s better than a-”

“If you’re about to say it’s better than a table leg to the abdomen, I’m telling Dave you want him to teach you how to cook.”

She glares at him, but clears her throat, the only outward clue that he was correct in his assumption about what she was going to say.

“I’ll be fine,” she says instead, “But you’ll stay here, right?”

Aaron smiles, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He doesn’t say anything when she grabs his hand as the doctor resets her shoulder, her nails digging into his skin.

___

It’s so late it's almost early when they get to his apartment.

The flight had been long, every jolt of the jet sending pain through her right arm. Aaron had boxed her in, sitting on her left side as her right was near the window so no one could bump into her. The team had spent most of the flight back asking them questions, some more invasive than Aaron would like, about their relationship. He knew there was more to come, that the team had gone easy on them because of Emily’s injury, but it had gone better than they’d thought it would.

“I’m exhausted, but I have no idea how I’m going to sleep in this thing,” she complains, pointing to her arm in the sling they’d been told she had to wear for a few days.

Aaron smiles at her and puts down both of their bags on the floor, “One thing at a time sweetheart,” he says as he walks over to her. He leans in to kiss her, something she gladly returns, her good arm wrapping around his back, “Let's get you ready for bed first.”

She smiles at him, mischief sparkling in her eyes, “Usually when you say something like that it means I’m about to have an orgasm or two,” she runs her hand up his back and smirks at him as she cups his cheek, “or three,” she scrunches her nose up, “Why do I feel like that's not the case tonight?”

He laughs and kisses her forehead before leading her toward his bedroom, “As soon as you’re no longer in pain, I promise I’ll make up for any orgasm arrears” he says as he takes her straight past his bed and to the ensuite bathroom. He sits her down on the closed toilet seat and starts to go through his medicine cabinet.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replies, watching him intently as he continues to look in his medicine cabinet. He pulls a few things out to put them on the counter, clearly looking for something specific, “What are you looking for?”

“Your make-up remover,” he says as if it’s obvious, and it makes her crease her eyebrows, confusion spreading through her.

“I didn’t leave that here. It’s in my bag, I always take it home with me.”

“I know,” he replies, finally getting the bottle he was looking for and grabbing it along with some cotton pads, “But I saw it in the store and thought I’d get you some to keep here,” he groans as he kneels on the ground in front of her, his knees cracking against the tiled floor, “In case you ever forgot it.”

She simply stares at him, her good hand reaching out and stopping him from putting any remover on the pad, her eyes flicking down to the bottle.

“You got the right one.”

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her cheek, “I see you use it almost every day, it’s not difficult.”

After weeks of holding it back, she isn’t sure why that does it, why the simple admission that he’d paid attention to something so small was enough to make her say it. Enough to make the words she’d held back for weeks as he loved her so thoroughly finally breaking free, feeling heavy and light at the same time.

“I love you.”

His smile widens and he kisses her forehead and then her cheek before stamping a quick one to her lips.

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her quickly again. He rests his forehead against hers and they sit there for a moment before he pulls back, still smiling at her as he restarts putting some make-up remover on the pad in his hand, “Let's take your make-up off, then we can figure out how to get you into some pyjamas.”

She chuckles, “Aaron, I still have one working hand, I’m pretty sure I can take my own make-up off.”

“Just let me look after the woman I love, ok?”

She’s sure it should annoy her, and it had in the past when ex-partners attempted to look after her. She hadn’t grown up with that kind of affection so wasn’t used to it, mistaking it for coddling or control. But she can’t bring herself to be annoyed, feeling nothing but affection for him as he accidentally puts too much product on the pad in his hand, so she doesn’t brush him off, or say she can do it even though she knows she can. She simply nods, biting her lip in a failed attempt to contain her smile.

“Ok.”

-x-

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