#he is very kind and seems not to get a lot of thanks
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Worlds Apart
Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader
Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you
Warnings: Jos Verstappen
Based on a request by @butterflyexe
The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.
“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”
You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.
You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”
“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”
“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”
“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”
The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”
“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”
“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.
Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”
Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”
The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”
“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”
A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.
Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”
Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”
Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”
“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.
Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”
“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”
You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”
His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”
You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”
He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”
“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”
A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”
You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”
“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”
Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”
Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”
You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”
“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”
You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.
“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.
You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”
“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”
“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.
It’s going to be okay.
He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.
Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.
Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.
***
Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.
“Max! A word, if you please.”
He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”
Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”
“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”
“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”
Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.
“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”
“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”
Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”
It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.
“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”
Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”
Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”
He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”
Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.
“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.
Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.
You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.
The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️
He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?
After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.
After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.
“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”
“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”
Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”
So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.
“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”
Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”
“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”
Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.
“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”
“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”
“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”
As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.
When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”
“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”
Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”
“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”
“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”
You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”
He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”
“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”
“Sweet dreams, liefje.”
Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.
Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.
So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.
As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.
Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.
***
You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.
For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.
Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.
Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.
Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.
That’s no ordinary car.
That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.
Just like-
“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...
“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.
His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.
He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.
“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.
Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.
“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”
“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.
“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.
A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.
“Who is that guy?”
“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”
“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”
The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.
“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”
Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.
“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”
He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.
“You’re impossible!”
“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.
This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.
But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.
Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.
“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”
There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.
“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.
“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.
“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”
“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.
“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”
You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.
“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”
You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.
“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.
“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”
There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.
But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.
“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”
Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.
“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”
A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.
“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.
Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.
“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”
And neither of you can wait.
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hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!
Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)
Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein
description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.
content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference
word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)
/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/
Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.
You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.
You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.
"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.
"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"
You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.
"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.
"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.
"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.
"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."
You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.
"It's just my roommate-"
Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.
He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.
It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.
There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.
You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.
Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.
"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.
"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."
A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.
There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.
Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.
"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."
"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.
"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."
"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.
"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.
"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"
You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.
It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.
You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.
"Does that mean you're coming back here?"
"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."
A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.
He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.
So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.
Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.
Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?
But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.
A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,
"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,
"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.
"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.
The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.
The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"
"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"
You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.
Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.
He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,
"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"
Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.
And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.
"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."
"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.
"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."
"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.
"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."
He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.
He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.
"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.
The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand
"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)
"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.
Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.
He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.
If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.
Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.
A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)
You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.
/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/
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Dealing With the Problem = Breaking the Problem’s Nose
pairing: remus lupin x slytherin!reader
summary: You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.
genre: crushing, fluff?, kind of enemies to lovers but not really (reader hates Remus but Remus likes reader), sunshine x grumpy trope?
wc: 2.1k
content: reader can throw a punch, gn!reader, there’s a fight, a lot of cursing, remus gets insulted, remus is a simp fr, reader is very... salty? idk how to describe them.
note: woah, two posts in one day? so rare. I wrote this without any particular idea in mind, but I want to show my appreciation for Remus, because we love Remus <3
oneshot under the cut :: not proofread
Remus Lupin was interesting.
He was not like his other friends; he was quiet, more reserved than them. The Marauders were the heartthrobs of Hogwarts, and Remus Lupin had his own group of “fans” that found his certain allure appealing.
You hated him.
The times when you would had the unfortunate requirement to talk to him, he was infuriating. He would send that damned smirk of his your way even when you were obviously about to blow a fuse. He would use those annoyingly smooth pickup lines on you when you were literally insulting him. He compliments you and uses pet names on you that makes other people do a double take on you from how he treated you like you two were dating.
He may have been the quieter one among his friends (besides Peter of course), but he could act as embarrassingly as Potter and Black do.
You were going to kill him someday. If he doesn’t kill you first with his smooth words and soft gaze.
As much as you hate him, your body betrays you. All the time.
Your cheeks flush when he compliments you. Your knees go weak when he calls you dove. Your brain lags when he uses one of his pickup lines that you never seem to predict.
The reactions were out of your control. I mean, if anyone else treated you the way Lupin treated you, you’d probably act the same.
Right?
Wrong, because you hate everyone besides your friends in Slytherin, no matter how kind they act towards you. Lupin just happened to take a page out of your house’s mascot and slither through your walls to become an exception.
Wrong, because you never would have punched someone purely out of instinct after a particularly horrible insult.
You were disappointed in yourself. You were doing well in restraining your anger during the past few years in Hogwarts, so why did you have to snap now out of all times?
No matter how annoyed you were at yourself, it couldn’t overpower the satisfaction you got from finally shutting Avery up.
So, how did it happen?
Let’s rewind.
—————
You were taking a stroll in the grass with Barty, who was always willing to accompany you on your spontaneous walks. The two of you were just talking about people you particularly hated in Hogwarts until you came across the two that placed particularly high on both your lists: Avery and Snape.
Being in the same house as the two vermin didn’t make you or Barty dislike them any less, especially you. You were one of the precious few halfbloods in Slytherin, and they never failed to insult you about it.
You didn’t care about blood statuses, though. But that didn’t matter do them.
They targeted you constantly, picking on you, tripping you in the hallway, spilling drinks on your back, and other petty things.
You always bit back with your words. You knew that if you tried to deal with it physically, you might be expelled from the school for violence.
Thank goodness Pandora, Barty, and Regulus ere always there to restrain you. Especially Barty. He was your closest friend, and although he wanted to beat them up himself, he didn’t want you getting in trouble.
Today seemed to be an exception.
“Oh, speaking of,” you cut Barty off, your gaze souring as you caught sight of the two you were just ranting about.
Barty followed your gaze, his lip curling in disgust. They were crowded over someone, but the tree beside them obscured your view of the victim. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing wickedly and pushing the person.
“Are we going?” Barty knew you well. He knew you were going to do something about it. He just hoped that you were going to use your words instead of your fists, because he hasn't finished his strategy on how to hide bodies in school just yet.
“Unfortunately,” you sighed, picking up your pace, Barty a few feet behind you to give you space. You may hate everyone in school, but not enough to leave them in the clutches of people like Snape and Avery.
“What kind of fucked up entertainment did you two idiots decide to do today?” You called, making the two turn your way.
“Ah, just the person we were talking about,” Avery sneered. “What do you want now? You here to check up on your boyfriend?”
You furrowed your brows in confusion. You stepped to the side a little and groaned internally when you saw who Snape and Avery’s target was today: Remus Lupin.
His face was contorted in anger, his clenched fists peeking out from his slightly oversized sweater. Whatever Snape and Avery were teasing him about must have really struck a nerve in him.
“Leave them out of this,” he warned.
“What’re you going to do about it, huh?” Snape taunted him, approaching you. “C’mon loverboy. Not so strong now that your bodyguards aren’t here, ain’t that right?”
“Why don’t you boys take a break from being dickheads, yeah?” You said, testing out the chance of a diplomatic ending. “Go find some other place to dump your bullshit on, preferably the greenhouses. They could use the fertilizer.”
Avery made a beeline towards you, partially shoving Snape out of his way to grab your collar and pull you toward him. He was practically steaming.
Diplomacy was out the window, I suppose.
Barty a step towards you, as did Remus, but Snape stopped the lanky boy and you put your hand up to make Barty pause. You could handle yourself.
“You wanna say that again, bitch?” Avery seethed.
You had to restrain yourself from puking in his face after you felt drops of his saliva hit your cheeks, but you stood your ground. “I said you’re full of shit. Did some of it get in your ears or something?”
Avery looked like he wanted to hit you, but instead he leaned in your ear. You cringed at the lack of distance, but it quickly morphed into something else as he whispered, “You wouldn’t be barking as much if you let your ugly ass boytoy do the talking for you. He’s the one better with words, eh? Bet he uses them so you would want to fuck him. Tell me, is his dick as deformed as his face is?”
Avery never got his response as you reeled your fist back and let it fly, making direct contact with his nose with a satisfying crack.
—————
“I don’t believe it,” Madame Pomfrey tsked in disappointment, dabbing a paste on the bruise around your eye. You had to suppress a wince, since the rest of your body was too sore. “You should know better than to start a brawl in the courtyard.”
“They had it coming,” you muttered, making the nurse dab with a little more force than necessary. “Ouch.”
"You could have sustained worse injuries than this, stupid child!" She scolded, like a mother reprimanding a disobedient child. And like a disappointed child, you stayed silent and hung your head in slight guilt.
Only slight guilt because you still firmly believed that the two idiots had it coming to them.
You heard a moan of pain, and you could have sworn that you saw Madame Pomfrey roll her eyes. "You don't have that much severe injuries, so I'll check up on you in a while after I treat Mr. Snape and Mr. Avery."
You nodded. Before leaving, the nurse turned to Remus Lupin, who was icing a bruise on his cheek on the cot beside yours. "Watch over them, and after a few minutes, apply ice to their bruises," she instructed, and the Gryffindor nodded.
"Treasure, how're you doing?" Barty called from his cot across from you. He had sprained his ankle from kicking Snape hard in the nuts, and although he winced in pain occasionally when he moved, his grin told you that he didn't regret what he did.
"I'm okay B," you replied, grimacing slightly as one of the pulled muscles on your back acted up.
Remus noticed your flinch, and approached you worriedly. He was better off than you and Barty, the bruise on his face the only thing that he obtained from the fight. "Are you sure?" He asked, concerned. You didn't like how soft his eyes were as he gazed at you, or how your chest squeezed slightly at his worry.
"I'm fine, Lupin," you quipped, although your voice lacked its usual venom.
Remus hummed, unconvinced. He turned to the bedside and grabbed the ice that Madame Pomfrey left for you and held it out for you to grab.
You scoffed. "I said I'm fine. No need to baby me."
Remus rolled his eyes slightly. "And I don't believe you. Besides, the nurse said to ice your bruise after a few minutes. A few minutes has already passed, and frankly, she can do more damage to me than you can in this state."
You grumbled, turning your head. Your pride made you stubborn, as it did to many, but thank goodness Remus Lupin has had training in dealing with prideful companions.
He closed in on you, holding your face by the chin and tilting it towards him. You tried to fight back, but his grip was firm, so you simply sighed and resigned your fate. You could only hope that the observant boy didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.
He gently placed the ice on your eye.
"Sorry," He murmured when you hissed at the sudden cold.
You purposefully averted your gaze from him, eyes fixated on the wheels of another cot.
That didn't stop you from spotting Remus's fixated stare on you from your periphery.
"Stop looking at me like that, Lupin," You spat, still refusing to make direct eye contact with him. "What do you want?"
"Why did you punch Avery?" He asked, finally making your eyes snap up to him. "He said something that provoked you. What did he say?"
You scoffed. "The usual bullshit that comes out of his mouth."
"I heard that."
"Fuck off," you called to the curtained cot where Avery currently resided. Madame Pomfrey hushed you disapprovingly form behind the curtains.
"I don't think that's true," Remus said, eyes narrowed as he studied you like a problem he couldn't solve, an enigma he wanted to understand.
You looked at him in silence for a moment, before heaving a sigh and looking away again. "He insulted you," you mumbled, words faint and hard to decipher, but Remus got the general meaning.
Well, judging from his grin, he got the general meaning.
"What did you say?" He asked. You looked at him, offended. Remus Lupin was teasing you.
"Clean your ears next time, Lupin," you shot a glare at him, but it didn't have as much heat behind it as you would have wanted.
"Nope, don't try to escape from this," he chuckled, using his hand on your chin to make your visible eye make contact with his brown ones again. "What did you say, dove?"
You groaned. You absolutely loved hated the effect this boy had on you.
"He insulted you, Lupin," You snapped, cheeks blazing at this point. "Happy?"
Remus's playful expression melted into one of disbelief. "You punched him because... he insulted me?"
"Salazar, you really are deaf," you rolled your eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it?"
Remus seemed to still not be able to wrap his head around the idea. You, the person he's been pining over the past few months, defended him. And got hurt because of it.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you apologizing for? I started that fight with my own free will, and they deserved every cut and bruise they received."
"Amen," Barty replied. He was obviously eavesdropping on your conversation, and you couldn't say that you were surprised.
"But still." His lips tilted downwards along with his gaze. Salazar give me strength, he's pouting. "You were dragged into it when they were picking on me. I could have —"
"Yes, there are many things that you could have done, but you can't reverse time to do them now, Lupin," You said severely. "I don't need you apologizing for things I don't regret doing."
Remus looked up at you hopefully. "You don't regret defending me?"
You blinked, realizing the implications your words gave off. You played it off with a huff. "Whatever."
"You didn't deny it," Remus teased, a small smile on his face. He still felt guilty that you were hurt because you were defending him, but you didn't regret it. That had to count for something.
"Whatever, Lupin."
"Call me Remus."
"No."
"Please."
"Absolutely not."
"Dove?"
"... Fine, Remus."
"Heh, I knew you liked me."
"What — I never said I did!"
"But you never said you didn't."
"I —"
A retching noise was heard. "Ugh, your lovey-doveyness is making me sick."
"Shut up, Barty!"
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#marauders era#marauders#marauders x reader#moony#moony x reader#hp#sirius black#james potter#barty crouch jr#regulus black
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bad habit ✮⋆˙ joost klein
SMUT 18+ MDNI
warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, w33d (just a little), lots of teasing omg it's ridiculous, making out, oral!fem receiving because joost is a MUNCH, unprotected p in v, choking kind of?, orgasm denial and overstimulation
i am so sorry
Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder? - You know that's a bad habit right?
Hast du Feuer - Got a lighter?
Inside the venue, the music was ridiculously loud. Your friend had dragged you to a show (Ski Aggu? You had no idea, you were just there to support) and it was a good show and pretty solid music, but not exactly what you would listen to on a daily basis. In the end you ended up enjoying it, loving the antics onstage. Your favorite was that one song, probably his most recognizable because you’d heard it out before, where a tall blond guy wearing a full-on dress shirt with a tie and some funky-looking glasses.
The show was good, and since your friend had run into some acquaintances, you accepted your fate for the night and gestured to her that you were going out for a smoke. You’d had a few drinks already and just wanted to take a break from that and the overly loud music inside. Stepping outside, you took in the Berlin night cold and cursed yourself for only wearing a thin slip dress, at least covered by the oversized leather jacket with a million pockets. Curiously, somebody stepped out of the bar as well and you recognized him as the blond who was onstage earlier for that one song.
“Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder?” He spoke, teasingly referring to the box of cigarettes in your hand as you rummaged through your pockets for a lighter.
“Hast du Feuer?”
“Yeah, I’ve got one.” he says, reaching in his pocket.
You scoffed, shaking your head at yourself. “Is my german actually that bad?”
The man laughs, exposing a set of very charming dimples and a crinkle in his eye hidden by his wide-rim tinted glasses. “No it’s not, you’re just drunk and very clearly not from here.” He reaches out his hand with the lighter in it, and as you go to grab it he snatches it back, smirking and giving you a challenging look. “And what do I get in return?”
You roll your eyes, reaching into your pocket. “Here, you can bum one off me.” The blond nods appreciatively as he grabs a cigarette from you and proceeds to light his own first. He then reaches out with the lighter to yours, holding it up to light your cigarette and you can feel his gaze on you. There was a significant height difference, so you had to crane your neck up quite a bit to speak to him.
“Thank you…?” you say, prompting him to share his name, playing dumb because you already knew it.
“Joost” he replies, exhaling smoke and looking down at you, very obviously devouring you with his eyes. Oh so that’s what he’s playing at. “And you are…?”
Immediately your demeanor changed because, hell, he’s quite hot and seemed pretty fun from what you’d seen of him on stage. Might as well. You told him your name and teasingly started inquiring about his stage presence.
“So you’re friends with Aggu or something right?”
“Yeah,” he says, taking a drag and leaning his shoulder against the wall, towering over you. “We’ve been pretty tight since we were openers together once.” You nod understandingly, raising your eyebrows in the most subtly patronizing way to keep teasing him. He catches on. “Why, you listen to him?”
“No, not at all actually. My friends dragged me to this show.” you say, matter-of-factly “Lowkey I thought it would be kind of bad but I am pleasantly surprised.”
“Good,” He’s kind of shocked by your bluntness, but clearly intrigued. “What was your favorite song?”
“The one you sang with him.” You reply, finishing off your cigarette and dropping it to the ground and putting it off with your boot. “I’m going back in, you coming?”
Hurriedly, Joost takes a few last drags and follows you inside, lightly putting his hand on the small of your back as you led the way back to your friends.
“There you are, babe!” your friend replies, dropping the conversation she was having with an acquaintance. She leans closer to you, speaking into your ear over the loud music. “I see why you were gone and I’m not gonna get mad because he’s cute.”
You brushed her off with a wink and a laugh and casually turned back to Joost, “This is Joost, Joost this is my friend Lina that dragged me here.”
She waves, “Big fan.” and turns back to her other conversation. Silently you thanked her to yourself for getting the hint. You turn back to Joost, looking up at him and pointing accusingly.
“You owe me a drink for giving you one of my cigs.” you say, teasingly looking up at him with a smirk. You had to play his game, and at this point you felt like he was catching on too.
“Oh do I?” Joost replies, looking down at you challengingly through half lidded eyes and lightly licking his bottom lip. “You’d still have to owe me one back.”
“I can give you a kiss and we’ll be even.”
He nods, biting his cheek and turning to the bartender and signalling for two more of what he was drinking. Your drinks get served and you stand on your tippy toes, hand on his chest to lean into his ear to say ‘thank you’, and as you pull back he leans in but you quickly dodge him with a playful smirk. He’s very clearly into it and going in for the long run, so he followed you when you grabbed his hand and gestured towards the dancefloor. Even if Aggu’s show was over, the venue was still thumping with music.
Swaying your body rhythmically with the beat, Joost’s hands found themselves comfortably settled on your waist, slowly reaching towards your ass and pulling you closer like that. You kept going though, turning around and staying close to his body, making a point of teasingly moving your hips against him, feeling the light graze of his crotch against you.
This set him off the edge and he kept one of his hands firmly on your hip and reached the other to splay his arm across your shoulders in a light headlock to pull you closer. “And when can we get even?” He says into your ear, his voice an almost growl dripping with desire.
You turn around and look him wantonly in the eyes before reaching to give him a kiss. Joost kisses back firmly, leaning down a little to match you and reaching up his hand to cup your jaw. Immediately in that drunken kiss, you tangle your hand into his hair, complimenting the clashing of teeth and the slow roll of Joost’s tongue in your mouth. You continue to kiss, sloppily grabbing at each other, his hand snaking to grab at your neck and you reaching up to snake your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you closer. He suddenly stopped.
“Liefde, I have to take you home.” Joost pants, cheeks red and flustered from your passionate kiss. “You’re driving me insane.”
You give him a teasing look. “Look at you, all direct. Don’t seem like the type.”
He scoffs, leaning down towards your ear— “If I weren’t direct I wouldn’t be able to tell you that the though of you makes me hard and I want my head between your legs as soon as possible.”
This comment shuts you up completely, shooting a bolt of electricity down your spine and the mere idea of Joost between your legs makes you squirm pleasurably. You nod, looking up to him still slightly in shock.
“Let’s go to mine, I’m two blocks away and I’ve got weed.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The walk back home for the two of you was excruciatingly long because you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You walked with your hand slipped in the back pocket of Joost’s jeans, and he kept looking down at you as you took another drag from your cigarette. He couldn’t help himself, really, and he pressed you against the nearest wall and gave you a long, deep kiss. You both grabbed at each other as you passionately made out against the wall of some random building on the way to your house. Romantic, huh?
Somehow, you made to your apartment and you discarded your leather jacket at the entrance. This left you in a very thin, almost transparent silk slip that gave Joost a perfect view of the outline of your body behind you, the dress almost translucent because of the light.
You plopped onto your couch, reaching for the bong on your coffee table as Joost sat next to you. Taking one or two hits, you passed it onto him as you analyzed his face in a different light than where you were before. His eyes were a dashing color blue and his blonde hair was the just right amount of tousled, falling onto his defined face perfectly.
He didn’t finish putting the bong down on your coffee table before you straddled him, looking onto his eyes, almost level to you because of his height, and gave him a profound kiss. His large hands settled on your ass, encouraging you to move your hips backwards and forwards, prompting him to grind back up into you. You continued like this for a while, tongues clashing and hands grabbing at each other, clouded by the substances running through your systems. You worked on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as you continued your kiss, pushing it down and off his body. Joost thought you looked positively angelic as you pulled away, connected still to him with a string of saliva and focusing on rubbing your tangibly wet pussy on his hard crotch.
Suddenly Joost grabs you from above him and turns you around to lay you on the couch, immediately putting his weight on you and passionately continued your kiss. You felt his bulge on you, hard from all the anticipation and teasing you even more as he continued to slip his tongue in your mouth. He snakes his hand down your side, rreaching down to your thigh and grabbing all over it, clearly enjoying the plush of your soft skin. Slowly, he begins reaching up towards your slip, moving it up slightly so you are more exposed.
“No underwear?” He asks through your kisses, snickering as you whine slightly because of the subjection he’s putting you in. Joost continues, smoothly and teasingly moving his hand on your waist, moving down to your leg, wrapped around him, and reaching up to your ass and giving it a slap. This sends a jolt through your body, extremely turned on but surprised at his harshness. You let out a moan and pulled him even closer.
“You liked that?” You moan in approval as he begins moving his hand between your thighs and breaks the kiss to start kissing your neck. Joost was literally leaving you speechles with his touches, making you a writhing, whining mess under him. He brings you up towards him to slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders and begins kissing down your chest, making you whine as he starts going lower and lower. Bringing his hand towards your pussy, he slowly traces his fingers up your slick folds until he gets to your clit. He starts to draw small circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, sending shocks through your body and making your back arch, bringing you closer to him.
As he continues to teasingly and painfully slowly move lower, you tangle your hands in his messy blonde hair. He finally reaches your throbbing pussy, but not even making a single movement that would indicate he would do anything yet with it, focusing on kissing your thighs.
“Fuck Joost, please do something” you moan, arching your back and expecting him to do something, but he just stops his kisses and puts more pressure on your clit. At this rate, you felt like you were coming closer and closer without him doing that much purely from the teasing.
“What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Please eat me out Joost, stop being such a fucking tease.” You reply through another moan, pulling at his hair to get closer.
“Ask nicely and I’ll do it.” He replies, menacingly pressing his thumb even more and looking up at you expectantly. “I want you to beg.”
That alone sent you into a moaning mess, immediately submitting to his touch. “Joost please please eat me out, I need you. Please do something, I can’t stand it.”
He instantly puts his lips to your pussy, lapping at your clit and putting one, two fingers in, hitting just the right spot, making you whimper out when combined with the feeling on your clit. Joost was clearly enjoying himself down there, running his tongue in all the right places and pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rough but pleasurable pace. You felt the familiar build of pressure in you, heightening your sensitivity to every touch and lick.
“Fuck Joost keep going please” You moan, pulling at his hair and trying to keep your legs from shaking. “I’m gonna come.”
He immediately takes his mouth off of your pussy and climbs back up to your level, leaving you confused and overstimulated from the lack of touch. He brings his hand up to your neck and grabs you by your jaw to look directly at him.
“You don’t cum until I say so.”
Joost quickly reaches down to unbuckle his belt as he continues kissing you. He was impossibly hard, and you helped him unbutton his jeans and reaching down to palm him through his underwear. He immediately let out a moan of relief at the loss of pressure when he pushed off his jeans, grinding into your hand as you both moaned at the buildup of anticipation. You were still put off from your orgasm and he was ready to shamelessly start fucking you, so you were both clearly on the same page when you reached down to pull down his underwear and release his hard cock. He was huge, you could feel it from making out earlier but seeing it at it’s full length you felt scared but also extremely turned on.
Through moans and clawing at each other, he grabbed his cock and quickly found his way towards your entrance, nudging the head of his cock and rubbing it against your hole.
“Tell me if you can’t take it,” he pants, and you were flattered by the concern but you knew better.
“Just put it in Joost, I need you inside of me.”
This set him off. He instantly started pushing himself inside you with a groan, bottoming out easily because of how wet you are. Joost looked at you to see if you were okay, and continued once you let out a moan and looked up at him. He moved at a painfully slow but strong pace in the beginning as you adjusted to his size, and once you started bringing him closer, he sped up his pace.
Both of you a mess of moans and groans, you continued to angle yourself towards his pounding thrusts, making him groan more as you started clawing at his back. You felt a mix of pain and pleasure as you felt his length inside you, building up the pressure in your belly once more, this time more intensely. He was bottoming out completely with each thrust now, letting out garbled curses in Dutch and pounding into you as you moaned out.
“Joost, please can I come.”
“Yes you can schatje, come for me.”
Instantly, you gushed all over his cock, arching your back and seeing stars. You stayed in that state for a minute, relieved from the overstimulation, but he didn’t stop his thrusts.
“I want you to come again, baby. C’mon get on top” he says, bringing you up as he sat up on the couch. Although you were blissed out from your orgasm, you still couldn’t help but be entranced by his orders, so you gave him a kiss as you straddled him, sinking onto his cock with a whimper. He was the one that continued the pace, hands on your ass, moving your hips back and forth and getting himself off with you.
You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and one or two hickeys, just like him. He placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around him and made him let out a loud groan as he thrust up against you again.
“Fuck schatje you feel so good on me.” he groans, continuing to bounce you up and down. Joost loved the way you looked on top of him, a flustered, moaning mess that did everything to reach that second orgasm that he felt was close for you. That pleasurable pressure was growing in you again, and your overstimulation was driving you crazy. You loved the feeling of Joost’s cock inside of you, and in this position it was just hitting the right spot every time.
Joost eventually got sloppier, and started moaning harder, groaning your name hotly in your ear, which combined with his hands on you drove you closer and closer towards your orgasm.
“Can I come inside you?” he asks, “I’m close liefde, fuck.” You moan at the mere thought.
“Please come inside me Joost I’m so close.” You moan, intensifying your movements for a moment, Joost moving your hips harder, which set you off into a mess of gasps and whimpers, leaving you without air as you felt the flash of your second orgasm.
Your orgasm set off Joost too, coming at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, and with a deep groan of your name, spilled inside of you. The both of you stayed there for a moment, panting as he leant his head against the back of the couch looking up at you. You looked divine, a blushing, blissed out mess and he was sure he wanted to have that view again. You leant against him, slumping back and putting your head on your shoulder.
Peppering kisses along your shoulder, he sighed. “Fuck smoking, I don’t know how I’m going to quit you now. ”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
a/n: thank you for coming to my tedtalk. i needed to get that out of my system. i'm like speechless at myself because of how horny this is.
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LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE - JOEL MILLER
ft. joel miller x puppy hybrid!reader
a/n: i'm actually very proud of this fic ngl to you guys. been wanting to write for tlou for the LONGEST time and... you know i had to make my debut w joel :3 first time trying to dive into writing more than just smut, so lemme know what you think !! rbs and feedback always appreciated !! thank you @ama-szn for betaing x
cw: 18+ content, brief mention of sarah and guilt, grinding, p in v, creampie, grinding, slight cockwarming, praise, puppy gets used a lot... joel being snappy and a mild asshole at times, tail play???
word count: 4.1k words
Now, Joel isn't always the smartest guy around. He has a tendency to get a little blunt, to put it nicely, and he isn't the type to do charity work. Being nice has never done him any favours, so he sees no point in acting all buddy-buddy just for the hell of it.
In saying that, he's starting to think he has a problem collecting strays. It started with Ellie, and now he's starting to see a habit forming when he comes across you. By all accounts, he should have left you in the corner of that beat up store. You'd been a good enough distraction to the Clickers with your incessant whining that Joel could have snuck by undetected.
Well, like he said, he's got a stray problem — and it's hardly good manners to leave a girl in trouble when he can help out. He aims his pistol, frowns as you flinch at the sounds of the shots as he takes them down. Lucky for the both of you, there's only two of them, but he still uses way more ammo than he'd like.
Joel has to double take when he gets a good look at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he crouches in front of you. He has half a mind to put a bullet through your skull, but something about the way you look has him hesitating. You're a cute enough girl, a little scruffy looking, maybe, but cute nonetheless. That isn't what has him staring at you like you're some kind of exhibit, though.
"You got... are those fuckin' ears, kid?" He tries to keep his voice low, not only 'cause you're shaking so hard you're practically vibrating, but he doesn't want to find out if those Clickers had any buddies nearby. He tenses up slightly when he notices movement behind you, his brows furrowing as he squints to get a closer look. "Don't tell me that's a tail you're hidin' back there."
Your ears perk up slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyes flicking over his face as your whines die down. You lift the tail, showing off the dirt-ridden, matted fur before letting it flop to the floor once again, tilting your head to the side.
"I'll be damned... Now I'm seein' things." Joel is almost sure that you're a hallucination, or maybe he's finally snapped. He reaches out, pokes the tip of your right ear. It's hard for him to stop himself from frowning when the fur is soft and warm underneath his fingertips, the thing twitching under his touch. They sure don't seem fake. He isn't seeing things, you're real and you're sitting right in front of him. "Can you talk, girl? I'm startin' to feel like a crazy old man, here.”
You blink at him slowly for a moment, like you have to think hard about his words. You nod your head softly, your eyes not straying from him. Your voice is quiet when you reply, breathless and shaky. “Y-yeah… I can talk.”
"Well. That's somethin’.” Joel lets out a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding in. There's a moment of relief that washes over him in a wave. At least he isn't going completely insane, unless he's hallucinating your voice, too. "We gotta get movin', girl. The gunshots would've gotten every infected for miles gatherin' round, we don't have much time before they come sniffin' around here to see what's goin’ on.”
You nod once again, pushing yourself to your feet. He can see your features a little better now, and he tries not to let his eyes linger on that tail of yours for too long.
You don't seem like much of a talker, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least you won't go yapping at him when he's gotta concentrate. It wouldn't do either of you any good if he went and got killed because you couldn't keep your trap shut. You're probably the quietest stray he's managed to pick up. Ellie can talk for hours when she gets going, which...is most of the time, if he's being honest. You're more cautious than she ever was, though, watching him carefully as he stands and takes a look around the room to gather supplies.
Joel checks back on you, not missing the way you're shivering. He frowns, taking off his jacket before holding it out to you. "Here, put this on.”
You don't take the jacket, or so much as answer him. His frown deepens, and he lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling the jacker over your shoulders. “It's just a damn jacket. It won't kill ya.”
The way you stare at him is starting to get unnerving, so he turns away from you to continue throwing anything of use into his backpack. Store's already been raided, though, so he seems to be left with the scraps. Just his luck — scraps and strays. All he ever seems to get.
“Thanks.” You end up saying softly after a moment, and when Joel looks back at you again, that little tail is wagging and you're wearing his jacket properly. He catches himself smiling, so he's quick to turn away, grabbing the map from his backpack before zipping it up. He's always had a thing for pretty girls in his clothes, but he's not gonna admit that.
“Don't mention it, kid.”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
It's been about a week since Joel first saw you, and he's doing his best to keep his distance. You seem to settle in fairly nicely in Jackson — or, at the very lease, you fit in well enough with Ellie. Joel's having more than enough conflicting feelings around you to last a lifetime, and you're just a pup. You're already having to adjust to a new environment, you don't need someone like him confusing things.
That doesn't mean he can't watch you from afar, though. He's not sure he'd be able to stop himself if he tried. He can't help but watch as you and Ellie play together, noting how much brighter and happier you look since that day he saved you. Your tail wags so fast it's a blur behind you, your fur soft and fluffy now that it's been washed and brushed out.
Joel likes you more than he'd care to admit. He's already got enough people to worry about, between Tommy and Ellie, and everyone else in the damn community. He doesn't need to add you to that list.
Problem is, Ellie's gotten to know Joel, and she still hasn't grown out of being a little shit. As soon as she catches him sitting a little ways away from where she's playing with you, she decides it'd be real funny to throw the stick right at him. Joel barely has the time to catch the thing before you're on him, practically tackling in an attempt to get it from him.
“Alright… alright.” His tone comes out a little harsher than intended, and he can't help but feel bad as you shrink back, those fluffy ears pressing down against your head. Your tail stopped wagging, too, and you're giving him that kicked dog look. Makes him feel like a monster.
“Shit, I didn't mean-” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose after he sets the stick down, patting his lap for you to come closer again. He reaches out, scratching the base of one of your ears with a small smile. “You're alright, girl. Just… easy, yeah? No need to jump all over me.”
That seems to placate you enough, and all seems to be forgiven. You nod and lean into his touch, that cute tail of yours picking up tenfold. There's something oddly soothing about petting you, so he decides to indulge you a little, leaning back against the porch railings as he sits on the steps.
It isn't until he notices your droopy eyes and the way you're slowly inching closer to him, practically curled up on his lap, that he realizes the sun is setting, and he wasted most of the day with you. He can't bring himself to mind.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
What is it they say about stray dogs? You feed them once, and they're yours? Joel can't recall, but he's sure he's somehow managed to adopt a little pup with how you cling to him. He tried locking you out of his room one night, and he couldn't sleep with the way you clawed at the door, whining and whimpering to be let in.
You sleep with him now, and he can't say he dislikes the warmth your body brings when he curls up with you every night.
He's got his arm curled around your waist, that fluffy tail of yours resting between his legs and still somehow wagging as he spoons you. He can't help but rub little circles into your stomach with his thumb, his nose pressed against the nape of your neck. For a moment, he finds himself wondering how receptive you'd be if he started kissing the skin there, letting his breath ghost the spot where your baby hairs rest.
That's a dangerous line of thinking, one that he quickly snaps out of. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes to try and get some rest. You must sense that he's tense, cause you start wriggling around in his arms until you're facing him.
“Joel?” You breathe out, nuzzling his neck with your nose. He can feel your breath on him, and he grits his teeth not to make an audible sound as you lick at him. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it has him squirming for a whole number of reasons.
“I can feel you worryin’, pup. You ain't gotta stress about me.” He murmurs, gripping your hair gently to pull your face away from his neck. He can't focus with your tongue on him like that.
“You look sad.” You whine, pulling against the grip of his hair to keep licking at him. He knows you're just trying to cheer him up, but it's really not helping the way his dick is starting to swell. It's not your fault, you don't know what you're doing to him, but he feels sick letting himself get turned on by your innocent actions.
“Just - go to fuckin’ bed, alright?” He snaps, tugging you away hard enough he knows it probably stung a little. His mouth grows dry, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he watches you retreat, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“C'mon, girl. I didn't mean that, I just…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, his features etching into a frown. “Look, just… c’mere, alright? I'm sorry.”
He shifts so he's lying on his back, doing his best to make sure you don't press up against him when he's in this state. He holds an arm out, and you come rushing forward, tucking yourself against his side. You really are like a dog, always running back to him. He doesn't like how it makes him feel.
His jaw tenses as he shuts his eyes, trying to block out the guilt festering in him as he feels wet tears against the front of his shirt. He can hear your quiet sniffles, but he has no idea how to comfort you, so he doesn't.
Joel does what he does best — pretends the issue isn't there. He scratches behind your ears until you drift off, but sleep doesn't come for him that night. He spends the rest of his time staring at the ceiling, waiting for the morning sun to come through the widows before he carefully removes himself from your slumbering form.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, tucking the covers around your body before he leaves the room. What he needs right now is a cold shower and a little hunting trip with Tommy to keep his mind off of things.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
The first thing he's greeted with after returning from his supply run is a sobbing pup. He didn't expect to see you so worked up — barely giving him enough time to dismount his horse before you were clinging to him, ears pulled back on your head and tail limp as you cried into his chest.
“Hey… hey, now. What's the matter, girl?” He whispers, dropping his bag to the floor so he can hug you back, one hand sliding down your back to scratch the base of your fluffy tail. “C'mon, now. I wasn't gone for that long, was I?”
“You didn't say bye.” Your words are muffled against his chest, that whiny tone still in your voice, but he can see the way your tail starts moving at his touch. Makes him feel a bit better about leaving you so suddenly. “You always say bye…”
“I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart. You were sleepin’.” He says with a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as you pressed against him. Felt like you were trying to become a part of him with how desperately you attempted to get closer.
“But… you were gone, and… I didn't know where you went.” You whisper, hands gripping onto his shirt tight enough that the fabric stays wrinkled when you let go in favor of hugging him.
“Doesn't mean I was leavin’ you. Just had to get some supplies.” He replies, even if it's technically a lie. It can never hurt getting some more stuff, but a group only went patrolling the day before he left. He did need the time away from you, to clear his head. He just couldn't let you know that.
“And, hey. I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. I even got you a lil’ somethin’.” He says after a moment, grabbing your shoulders to pry you off of him. He ignores the ache in his heart at your little whine in favor of unzipping his bag, holding something up and squeaking it.
Your eyes light up at the sound, and he really can't help the smile that spreads across his face at the sight. He throws the squeaky ball and watches you chase after it, laughing when you return with it in your mouth, biting down over and over to hear the noise.
“There we are. That's my girl.” He murmurs, ruffling your hair before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you against his side. “C'mon, let's go and find Ellie. We got some catchin’ up to do, don't we?”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Joel must be getting soft with old age. That's really the only explanation for what's going on. He's letting you sit on him like you're a damn lapdog all because you looked like you wanted a cuddle.
You look so damn cute, too. That tail of yours is going to be the death of him. Joel's heart does not flutter when you smile all prettily at him, nor does it flutter when you rub your face against his neck like you're trying to get his scent all over you.
No. Joel's heart is as cold as ice. He doesn't get warm, fuzzy feelings from cute puppy hybrids, and he certainly doesn't clear his throat to stop himself from saying something unbelievably sappy and embarrassing.
“You comfy there, darlin’? Like havin’ me take care of ya?” He murmurs, not missing the way his breath catches in his throat when you hum in agreement, licking at his skin. You don't seem to notice, so he doesn't mention it. Small mercies.
Maybe it's the whiskey, or maybe it's the way your warmth seeps into him and makes his heart race that has his brain malfunctioning, but he can't stop himself from saying what's been on his mind the past few weeks.
“You're such a pretty girl…” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against your hairline before pressing a gentle kiss there. His hands slide down to your waist, giving you a little squeeze. “So fuckin’ pretty. My pretty pup, ain't ya, sweetheart?”
That tail picks up again and he chuckles, sliding a hand down your back to scratch the base of your tail, tuning in to the steady thump, thump, thump of it slapping against his thighs. He gives your tail a little squeeze, stroking his hand over the fur.
“Ain't no hidin’ how you really feel with a tail like that.” He says with a small laugh, eyes locked onto the way your tail moves as he leans forward, pressing kisses down the side of your throat. He grins against your skin as your tail starts wagging faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.
“Yeah? Y’like that, puppy?” He coos, the hand on your tail shifting to grab your ass, giving the plump flesh a little squeeze. The feeling of it has him groaning, his cock already starting to fill out. It's been a long, long time since he's gotten laid, and he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been having some conflicting feelings surrounding you as of late.
All he gets is a whine in response, your body shifting just a little closer to him. Joel grabs your hips, pushing you down against his lap so he can grind up against you, a grunt spilling past his lips. He glances back at your tail, rutting against you with more force when he sees the steady wag, the sight of it making his cock twitch with interest.
“God. Good fuckin’ girl.” He breathes out, rocking you against him for another minute before it gets too much for him. He can feel you soaking the fabric of your shorts, and he’s starting to get a little dizzy with all the blood in his body rushing south. He’s so hard it hurts, and he can’t help himself as he tugs off your shorts and underwear in one tug, unbuttoning his jeans and yanking his boxers down just enough so he can free his length from the constricting fabric.
You’re so wet he can sink into you in one thrust, holding you steady as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly as he takes a moment to catch his bearings. He presses his lips to the skin there, trailing kisses along the column of your throat. You’re so wet and tight and warm, and it's a struggle for Joel not to blow his load early with how much you’re squeezing around him.
”Pretty, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust up into you, the sounds of your little gasps and moans making his head spin. His grip on your hips tightens so he can guide you up and down his length, helping you move with every drag of his cock. The room fills with slick sounds as he fucks up into you, his head tilting back as he lets out a breathy moan.
He leans forward to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of smoke and whiskey lingers between the two of you, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip to give it a little tug before he pulls away, running his tongue over his teeth. He starts to bounce you on his cock, grunting as your walls flutter around him as he pounds into you. He reaches around to grip your tail, tugging on it to encourage you to keep riding him. His fingers play with the fur there, the upper half of your tail continuing to wag where it’s free from his hold.
”Makin’ such a mess, sweetheart. Soakin’ my jeans.” He huffs, grinding his tip against your sweet spot before he pulls you up by the tail, leaving only the tip of his cock in before yanking you back down with a groan. You’re so wet you’re dripping all down his shaft, soaking his balls and making the fabric bunched up beneath them wet with arousal.
”Gonna make you cum for me, pup. Then I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, girl?” He grits out between thrusts, brows pinching together as he watches you nod eagerly. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as his words make your cunt clench around him, trying to milk him dry.
”Alright, alright. I got you, doll.” He lets go of your tail, grabbing your hips to bury himself to the hilt inside of you. He adjusts the both of you a little so he can make you grind against his pelvis while keeping him nice and deep. He rocks your hips, making you grind your clit against his happy trail, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the friction the movement brings.
”Shit-“ He hisses as he feels you tensing around him, your orgasm sending him over the edge right after you. His jaw clenches as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you, his body slumping against the couch when he’s left spent and twitching inside your needy cunt.
”Just…” He starts after a moment, hands moving to rub up and down your back gently, coaxing you to lean against him. “Stay like this for me, yeah? You did good, pup. Such a good girl.”
He relaxes when you snuggle up to him, his softening cock nestled deep inside of you. There’s something oddly comforting about it, and it’s not long before he’s got his face buried in the crook of your neck, slowly dozing off as he runs his fingers through the fur on your tail. He thinks he could get used to this. He’s really starting to like having you around.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Joel's gotten into the habit of leaving you with Ellie when he has to go on those long patrols. He's never sure if he's gonna make it back, and there's no one in the world he trusts with you more than Ellie. He knows if something went wrong, the two of you would look after eachother, and that's enough to lessen the gnawing anxiety building in his chest whenever he has to leave.
Last thing he expects to see when he pushes open the door to his room is you and Ellie sleeping all curled up on his bed. It catches him off guard for a moment, but it's not long before a small smile breaks its way onto his face. He brushes some hair out of Ellie's eyes and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, giving you a small scratch behind the ears.
He sneaks his way out of the room, settling himself on the couch. He knows his back’s gonna be protesting the sleeping arrangement, especially after slumming in the past few days on the ground, but he can't find it in himself to care. He curls up awkwardly, letting out a grunt when his too-big frame can't fit fully on the couch.
Despite his discomfort, he feels content for the first time in a long while. He hasn't felt this kind of happiness since Sarah. For once, the thought that he could be happy without her, no matter how much he mourns her, doesn't fill him with dread. The guilt is still there, the thoughts of 'what if', but he lets himself feel them. He knows they're never gonna leave him, and there's no point trying to force them away.
He never wants to forget Sarah, to replace her. There's always gonna be a massive space in his heart that's taken up by her, and there's no one that's gonna change that. But for once, he thinks he's happy with the little family he's got. The strays he's collected. He knows he can honor her memory by doing his best to survive, act like a dad she could've been real proud of.
Joel isn't a very religious man, but he knows he'll see his daughter again, one day. He cries himself to sleep that night, but for once the sobs that rack his body aren't filled with dread. It isn't him giving up, sitting around feeling sorry for himself.
They're tears of exhaustion, yes. But also relief. Hope. He can start again, live his life how he should've been these past few years. Really live, instead of just forcing himself to keep pushing through. Not just for you, but for Ellie. Tommy, too.
His family.
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「 WATCH MY SIX 」 PART ONE
DREAM RECALL if asked the question — you would describe Hueningkai as beautiful. Not necessarily sexy or even handsome, simply; beautiful. You think it was his beauty that attracted you to him from the start. The day he introduced himself, the day it all began.
pairings stalker!hueningkai x afab!reader
warnings stalking, harassment, mentions of severe injury, brief description of self inflicted injury, non-con photography (these warnings apply for part one)
#serene adds ✎... this is my first attempt at writing something stalker-ish but I hope it's appreciated still! any feedback is immensely appreciated :3
The first thing you noticed about Hueningkai was how tall he was, easily towering over you in an almost intimidating manner — The second thing that caught your eye was his smile, he had an almost boyish-grin that made his eyes crinkle up in the most endearing way. Third, was the small mole on his left cheek, entrancing you as it moved when he spoke, smiled, and laughed.
If asked the question — you would describe Hueningkai as beautiful. Not necessarily sexy or even handsome, simply; beautiful. You think it was his beauty that attracted you to him from the start. The day he introduced himself, the day it all began.
It was your first day of college.
“Hi, I’m Hueningkai”, he introduces himself. You glanced between his friendly face and outstretched hand. You shake it, “hi, y/n”, you give a small smile which he returns with one of his own and you find your gaze lingering on his rosy lips. “First day?” he asks as he eyes your awkward stance. You nod, “that obvious?” Kai chuckles before shaking his head, “your empty bag”, he then comments and you glance down toward your very much vacant book bag. “Oh” you sheepishly chuckle and he grins, that endearing grin that you would grow to love.
You had been eager to make friends and Hueningkai had seemed like the perfect first candidate. You find out that he’s in his third year, majoring in computer science and you listen eagerly as he shows you around campus. Kai was charismatic, and a great tour guide, making everything seem both fun and intriguing.
“What are your plans then?” he wonders as you walk down the large hallways. “Well…” you begin as you keep your eyes on the way your feet move forward, “I’m hoping to get my degree in business.” Kai hums next to you, “business, you wanna start your own?” You shrug, “perhaps…” In truth you wished to open a small business of your own, but whenever you had shared your dream of a small cafe you had been greatly humbled, thus you decided to keep such ambitions to yourself — at least for now.
Kai glances in your direction as the two of you continue in silence. You found that he stared at you a lot, you didn’t mind, in fact you felt almost flattered that such a beautiful man had even introduced himself, let alone offered to show you around. Upon your arrival at the student council’s office, Kai leaves your side, excusing himself by saying that he had class to attend. You thanked him for his kindness and he flashed you that smile of his once more.
Your first day progressed without much difficulty and you found yourself making a lot more friends than anticipated. As the last bell rang, you had formed a small group of four, and for the first time in a while; you felt hopeful for the future. Having exchanged numbers and settling on a day to all meet up outside of school, you bid farewell to your new friends as you make your way toward the subway.
You had barely made it off campus when a familiar voice called out for you. It’s with an excited smile that you turn around to face Hueningkai as he catches up with you. “First day treating you well?” he asks and you nod, eager to begin telling him about your day as the two of you walk down the busy streets.
You tell him about your new professors and show him your schedule. He listens with great interest as he comments on your unfairly good timetable. “Just wait until your third year”, he huffs and you giggle. Kai took most of his classes in a separate building to yours, making it difficult for you to meet up during the day, you couldn’t hide the disappointment flashing across your features at the thought.
“I’ve made quite a few friends as well” you add as you swing your book bag in front of you cheerily. Your mind racing with scenarios in which you would introduce him to your small group. At first Kai doesn’t answer you, his silence makes you glance in his direction, the once radiant expression on his face had morphed into a gloomy one, his lips pressed into a thin line. You frown, did something happen? You could’ve sworn that he was grinning just mere seconds ago.
“That’s nice”, he finally says in a monotone voice and you awkwardly nod. The warm summer air suddenly felt as cold as a December night. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes, your mind plagued with ways to break it. Finally the subway comes into vision and you feel relief flooding your system. You turn to him with a small smile, “well I better…”
“Can I have your number?”
His question shakes you off path as you blink up at him. Your number? Had the beautiful man asked you the very same question this morning your answer would have been definite. But the previous stale silence surrounding you had been more than uncomfortable, so you hesitate. Soon he grins as he tilts his head to the side, something about that small smile, makes your knees buckle and you caved.
He saves his number on your device before handing it back to you, “same time tomorrow then, sunshine?” He gives you a small wave before leaving you by the bustling subway, you don’t even have the time to form a reply before he’s gone, vanished.
That night you went to bed with a tingling sensation in your chest.
Kai kept meeting you before school every morning, he walked you to class and met you after to walk you to the subway. Everyday was the same, and you quickly found yourself adapting to your new routine. Kai was easy to talk to and he listened happily to whatever topic you found yourself stumbling across. All but one. You had wished to introduce him to your friends but everytime you brought the idea forward, he would find an excuse to avoid it.
Even whilst dropping you off at class, he would quickly excuse himself before your friends had the chance to approach. After school he would wait by the gates, a safe distance from your small group. You wondered why he was so adamant about not meeting them.
And so as you walk to class that morning, you will yourself to bring the subject up. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you immediately garner his attention as he glances toward you, “I was thinking…maybe…you would like to join us on friday, we’re going bowling”, you ask hopefully as you keep your gaze on the floor. He walks silently beside you, an impassive expression painted across his face, seemingly unreadable. “Who’s ‘us’?” he then asks and you give a small shrug of your shoulders. “Me, Sun hee, Nari and probably Eun too”, as you list the small party the expression on Kai’s face twitches slightly. “I might be busy friday”, he then states and you let out a quiet oh.
You thought that it was probably just an excuse to not go, yet you let it be, not wanting to pry. You liked Kai a lot, and you didn’t want to ruin things by pushing him too far. Though your friends kept asking about him, it was of course not surprising as you talked about him almost every day. You just couldn’t understand why he didn’t like them.
That Friday you went out just like you had planned. Despite the absence of Kai you managed to have a great time. So much that you almost forgot how upset the whole situation had made you.
“Another strike?” Eun yells as your ball hits all its targets once more. Your name on the scoreboard moves up to the top, surpassing Eun’s with ease. You give him a teasing grin as you take your seat next to Nari. After flipping you off, Eun turns to help Sun hee with her turn.
“How long until they start dating you reckon?” Nari mutters beside you as she takes a sip of her drink. “I’d give it another two weeks”, you mumble as you watch the way Eun places his hand on Sun hee’s waist to help her get into position. “Maybe one and a half”, you then say and Nari smirks, “wanna bet?” Out of everyone you and Nari had become the closest, it happened naturally as the two of you took almost the same classes and therefore spent the majority of your days in each other’s presence. There was also a certain force that pulled you toward Nari, you admired her honesty and confident character; part of you thought that it was perhaps what you lacked.
“Speaking of which”, she then drawls as she sets her drink down, “where’s your date?” Her words instantly bring color to your face and you shake your head, “he couldn’t make it, and he was not my date” you state to which Nari grins, “sure he wasn’t.”
She’s silent for a moment before adding, “he’s busy often.” Biting your bottom lip, you nod, “he’s got a lot of school work”, you lie, you hate lying. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that he probably didn’t want to meet your friends, that you had almost pleaded for him to join you at least once. “Computer science is no joke”, Nari agrees as she gazes ahead. You were sure she could see right through you, Nari was smart.
You swallow. “Maybe next time? I’ll ask him”, you mumble and Nari nods, “you better, I want to see the guy who takes up all your attention, barely leaving any for me”, she teases as she gives your shoulder a playful push and you smile as you sip on your own drink.
That night you got your first of what would become many messages.
Having just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped securely around your body, you’re in the midst of drying your hair when your phone chimes with a notification. Thinking it was probably just Nari asking if you got home alright, you brush it off — though a small part of you thought, hoped, that it might’ve been Kai.
Ever since you had brought up the question of meeting your friends he had been acting…distant. And you meant it quite literally. Whenever he walked you to class or the subway his gaze seemed far away, his thoughts seemingly occupied as he hummed and nodded along to whatever subject you rambled on about. Could it be that he had come to his senses at last?
Finally your curiosity got the better of you as you tossed the towel used to dry your hair on your bed and walked over to your drawer, which your phone rested on top of. Upon tapping the screen you’re greeted by a single message, and it’s from…
An unknown number?
That’s strange, sellers never left messages, and what other reason would an unknown number have for contacting you? Though the uncanny numbers on the screen were far from the most terrifying thing. It was the message itself, reading out one short sentence.
“You looked good tonight.”
It was strange, you had the numbers of everyone already. Who was this person? Because it certainly wasn’t any of your friends, more importantly; how did they get your number? Sun hee had admittedly become slightly drunk, but not drunk enough to give out your number to a stranger.
“Who is this?” Your fingers hesitate over the send button as you contemplate your decision. In the end your curiosity won you over once more. You send it.
It is immediately read.
Your eyes widen as the three familiar dots pop up on the bright screen, indicating that the person was typing. You watch the dots move up and down for at least a minute before they vanish completely. Whatever they were typing out, they had deleted again.
You waited that whole night for a reply, but it never came. All that was left was the small text:
Read 12:38am.
That following week you receive yet another message. Chatter fills the large cafeteria as students crowd the many tables. Your own table is no different as your friends engage in different subjects. You found it hard to share their enthusiasm as your mind kept wandering back to the previous weekend. Kai hadn’t texted you once, and neither had he walked you to class today. Had you done something wrong?
“Hey! Sleepyhead!”, Eun calls out as he snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, startling you. “Almost thought we lost you there”, he chuckles and you give a half-assed smile back. “What do you think about dinner at Nari’s on friday?” he asks and you nod, “sure…Friday's good.” You really didn’t feel like going.
Eun claps his hands excitedly, “great! then it’s decided!” Immediately he drifts onto a new topic and you automatically zone out. Though a light tap to your shoulder shifts your attention to your right, “ask you friend if he can make it”, Nari whispers as she wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
You bite your lip as you consider her words. Truthfully, you didn’t want to invite Kai once more only to be turned down by him. Perhaps he was starting to find your persistence annoying — maybe it had been his reason for not texting you all weekend. Despite your uncertainty you give Nari a small nod and she grins.
The familiar buzzing of your phone has you instinctively reaching for it. The unfamiliar set of numbers flashing on your screen however, causes your stomach to drop through the floor. It was the number from last week, once again the sender had only left one message, and no signature.
“He’s quite annoying isn’t he?”
You frown, were they referring to Eun? You glance around the crowded cafeteria, but it was seemingly impossible to make out if anyone was watching your table. How odd. The message hadn’t been very precise, it didn’t have to imply that whoever sent it was currently in the room with you; yet you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand as a shiver ran down your spine.
These texts would continue to make an appearance throughout the following weeks. Ranging in variety; sometimes they were long, sometimes short, sometimes they targeted people you knew, sometimes they were questions.
“What did you have for breakfast today?”
“You look pretty today.”
“Does she ever shut up?”
Sometimes they were outright creepy.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I always do, but today was even harder for me. I miss you a lot, I wish I could see you more often. Don’t you want to see me too?”
It had crossed your mind many times to block the number. Yet you always found yourself hesitating — was it curiosity or just stupidity? You weren’t sure. But the mystery behind the sender intrigued you greatly and you spent the vast majority of your free time wondering who it could be. Briefly you had considered Eun, but he liked Sun hee, and honestly didn’t strike you as the type to harass someone like that. Then there was the guy from your English class, you couldn’t quite remember his name but he often if not always insisted on sitting next to you; and when he didn’t, you could feel his burning gaze on you. But how would he have gotten your number? You hadn’t given it out to anyone except your friends and Kai.
It had to be someone from your school, at least so you thought; who else would be able to study your whereabouts so closely. Besides, the sender never indicated knowing anything about your life outside. But as time passed you grew both paranoid and uncertain of your existing guesses.
Your final straw drew to a line on the 19th of September, by now the messages had been terrorizing you for almost four weeks. But it wasn’t until now that they suddenly morphed from a mere pest to something utterly terrifying.
It was late at night when the message was received. Curled up on your couch, your eyes mindlessly glaze over the moving screen of your Tv, the movie doing little to catch your interest. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you, without as much as a thought you pick it up only for it to almost immediately slip out of your hand.
“The Conjuring? I didn’t take you for a horror enthusiast.”
Your eyes flicker from your phone to your Tv screen, undoubtedly playing that very movie. What the fuck. But that would mean…your neck snaps in the direction of your window, nothing. Still it did little to ease the worry in your chest as you quickly got up to close all curtains and rattle your door once more.
You thoroughly checked every inch of your flat, in closets, behind old moving boxes, you even went as far as checking under your bed. The place was empty, yet you felt watched. That’s when you decided to block the unknown number. And this time, you didn't hesitate.
Two days passed without much noise and soon you found yourself falling back into your old routines, it was comforting — spending time with your friends and most importantly, with Kai. He had explained his absence with being out of town to visit his sick grandma, it had been an emergency but he kept on apologizing for not reaching out and promising to make it up with lunch. You felt stupid for even doubting him in the first place as you reassured him that it was all forgotten.
“You got any plans this weekend?” he asks as you make your way to class together. “I well…I’m sort of meeting my friends to go see a movie on Saturday…” you mumble as you reach the door to your first class. Kai’s jaw clenches as he lets out a small sigh. Inside the classroom your eyes immediately find your small group of friends, Nari notices you first and waves you over as she mouths the words “is that him?”, you give her a small nod and she smirks.
“You should come”, you then say as you turn to glance up at him. Kai’s gaze shifts from your frame to the table your friends currently occupy. His expression flashes with annoyance before his attention returns to you. “How about Sunday?” he asks and you blink in confusion. “I…I’m free Sunday, but…” — “good, I’ll see you after class.” Without another word he turns and walks off, leaving you stunned as you shift awkwardly in the doorway.
As you take your seat amongst your friends, Nari quickly turns to you. “Well?” She tilts her head to the side as she looks at you expectantly. You shrug her off as you bring out your notebook and a few pencils, “well what?” She lets out an exasperated groan, leaning closer, “I mean, what was all that about?” You shake your head, “nothing..” It was obvious that Nari didn’t believe you, yet you were thankful that she chose not to pry further.
Class began and the day rolled on in a most uneventful manner, that was until your last period of the day. Your professor had been rambling for the past forty minutes without as much as a break and you felt your eyelids grow heavy. Next to you, Nari had doodled all over her previous notes, now she only tapped her pen against the paper in a monotone manner.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, usually you would ignore it during class, but today was an exceptionally boring one. You bring the device out as your tired eyes squint down toward the screen. It’s another unknown number, you frown, you thought you blocked the last one. Your heart immediately picks up its pace as you realize that the sender had sent not one but two messages this time.
With trembling hands you unlock your phone as you tap on the message. It’s a…photo. You turn the brightness up as you bring your phone closer to your face, it’s a girl, she looks to be cooking something, you can’t clearly make it out, the blinds covering the window makes for a narrow view. Upon further inspection you realize that it’s…it’s you. Your heart sinks as your eyes follow the outline of your relaxed frame, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes bestowed upon you.
The second message only read out a single word:
“Pretty.”
The sound of your heart's rapid beating rings in your ears as your eyes remain glued to the screen. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the… “What’s that?” Nari wonders as she peeks over at your screen, curious about what’s got your attention. She frowns as she takes the phone from you, bringing it just as close to her face as you had. “What the fuck, is that you?” She exclaims, earning a few glances from the students around you.
You don’t answer her as you try and will your hands to lay still against the desk. Tears threaten at the corners of your eyes as you try and comprehend the situation before you. “Babes what the fuck”, Nari mumbles and you give her a pleading glance, “please let’s leave.”
You find a secluded spot outside, and as Nari goes through the previous messages sent by the unknown number, you lean against the wall in an attempt to calm yourself. “This is fucking insane”, she mutters as she scrolls through the 50+ messages in your inbox. “Are they talking about me?” she frowns as she shows you the screen.
“Stuck up bitch. Only cares about herself. Why bother hanging out with her?”
You shake your head as the first tears fall, “I don’t know…” you sniffle and your friend’s expression goes from a glaring one to a worried one. “Fuck, babes this is serious, we need to contact the police.” Shaking your head once more you sob, “what can they do? I have no clue who it could be”.
“They know where you live for god's sake!” Nari exclaims as she runs a hand through her dark hair frustratedly. “You think I don’t get that? That I don’t get how bad this is?” you cry as you slide down against the stone wall. Nari is by your side in seconds as she wraps her arms around you in a warm embrace. “Alright, it’s okay, we’ll figure something out, I’ll stay with you, or you can stay with me, I won’t have you be alone okay?” You meekly nod as you hug her tighter, grateful for your friend.
You text Kai to let him know that he won’t be needing to wait for you that day, that you will spend some time with Nari. Her apartment is bigger than yours, holding not one but two bedrooms. She makes your bed for you, lets you borrow her clothes and cooks dinner for the two of you. Telling you that it’s nothing when you try over and over again to help her or in any way thank her. “You would do the same for me”, she says as she hands you a bottle of soju and takes a seat next to you on the couch.
“So, what do you reckon our next step is?” she ponders and you take a sip of your drink. “You don’t think they’ll stop, do you?” Your voice is far from hopeful as you look at her with a tormented expression. Nari shakes her head as a small pout forms on her lips, “how long has it been going on for?”
“A month”, your voice is barely above a whisper yet your words ring out through the silent apartment. It felt almost unreal to think that the same person had pestered your life for a whole of four weeks, not giving up despite your clear disregard of their advances. How much longer would you have to endure this? And what if something dangerous happened?
“You need to go to the police, love, what if they do something to you?” Nari mumbles, having seemingly read your thoughts as she studies your bleak expression. You knew that she was right, “alright, I will”.
That night you lay in the guest bedroom of Nari’s flat, staring up at the dark ceiling as the minutes ticked by. No matter how much you tossed and turned you never seemed to find comfort enough to sleep. And like clockwork, your phone flashed with yet a notification, flooding the dark room in an eerie light.
You try your best to ignore it as you flip over on your stomach, burying your face into the pillow. But as the screen turns black it is but a mere three seconds before your phone buzzes with yet another notification, followed by a third, a fourth, a fifth…
Frowning, you sit up as you grab the small device in your hands. What the fuck, you mumble as 9+ unread messages from that same unknown number fills your screen. Hesitantly, you open them.
“Why would you tell her about me? About us?”
“Dirty bitch has nothing to do with it.”
“Is that why you’re not at home? You’re with her aren’t you, that whore.”
“You shouldn’t have done that, why did you?”
“Are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“She is. Good for nothing useless fucking slut.”
“Come home again.”
“I miss you.”
As you stare at the screen in pure disbelief, you scoff. It was one thing to harass you, but going after your friends, that was where you drew the line. In your worked up state your fingers work quickly as they type out a reply:
“Fuck off.”
With that you turn your phone off completely before shoving it under your bed to finally get some sleep.
The next day you didn’t leave for college, you told yourself that you weren’t paranoid but something held you back from leaving, that thing being Nari. “They got their eyes on you in school too!” she says as she gets ready to leave, “this is the only place where you’re safe.” Inclined to disagree, because in truth you hadn’t felt safe for the past month, yet you listened to your new roommate and did as she told.
The day moved slowly as you aimlessly wandered around Nari’s flat. You cleaned, prepared dinner and rewatched your favorite Disney movies. But as you glance at the clock it hasn’t even hit four yet. You’re in the midst of giving yourself a manicure when your phone buzzes. It was probably just Sun hee or Nari and you wait for your nail polish to dry fully before getting up to check your mobile device.
Your stomach drops as you recognize the number on the screen, yet another picture had been sent. But this time it wasn’t you, it was Nari. Sitting in class, leaned over her desk as she wrote in her notebook, dark hair falling over her face but you knew that it was her. A few seconds later you received a second picture. It still captures your friend, though this time she’s outside, most likely heading home. Why was she alone? She usually went with Sun hee so why weren’t she with her right now?
“Leave her alone.” Your message doesn’t go through, you frown. You send five more, none are delivered and panic slowly sets in. You frantically search for Nari in your contacts, the phone rings, once, twice, three times, but no reply. Fuck, pick up, pick up, you mumble as you press the call button once more, this time you’re sent straight to voicemail.
The unknown number sends yet another picture, this time it’s taken from behind her, and close, too close. After that the pictures roll in like rainfall, photo after photo, all growing in intensity as Nari becomes aware of the danger about to close in on her.
You refuse to look through all of them, skipping your way to the last one. It’s still Nari, except she looks horrible. Blood trailing from her forehead down the sides of her face as her body unconsciously lay on the ground. You let out a horrified cry as your phone slips from your hands, colliding against the wood floor with a loud thud.
This was all your fault.
You do not remember for how long you laid on the floor of Nari’s apartment, your loud cries filling the empty flat as your vision grew hazy. Arms burning from the way your nails dug into them, drawing blood that trickled all over your hands.
You don’t know how he got inside or when he did, but you remembered his large arms wrapping around your shaking body as Kai pulled you to his chest. You remember his soothing words as he pried your bloody hands from your arms, you remember feeling safe in his embrace.
As your cries turned to sobs and eventually to small sniffles, you clung to him, afraid of letting go, afraid of losing the only thing that still kept you sane. How lucky you were to have Kai. His hold on you doesn’t falter for even a second as he wipes your tear stained cheeks. You don’t have to tell him what happened because he knows, you’re relieved that he knows because you don’t think you could stomach uttering those words out loud.
It doesn’t change the fact that it was all your fault. If you had done something sooner, if you had told the police like Nari said, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. You should never have told her, you should never have involved her, it was just like they had said.
With a final sniffle you lift your gaze to meet Kai’s warm one, in that moment you felt as if you could trust him with anything. “I…” your voice is shaky and meek, your words getting stuck in your throat. He hugs you closer as he presses a kiss to your forehead, had it not been for your current state you probably would have blushed. “It’s going to be okay, sunshine”, he whispers against your skin and you shake your head. It wasn’t.
“Kai, I…I think I’m being stalked.”
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The Crucible [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left (@roting) Center (@dudeitiskarev) Right (@moodboard-d)
Prompt: Aaron finds himself alone with a homegrown terrorist group whose leader he put away a year ago. He gets beaten, shot, and dumped in the woods where the reader finds him and attempts to keep him alive long enough for the paramedics to get to him.
Pairing: Aaron x Non-BAU!reader, gender-neutral!reader. The reader uses they/them pronouns
Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending]
Word Count: 14.9K
Content Warnings: Food is mentioned, alcohol is consumed, there is a hate group [the bad guys], severe beating [glass broken on a body, unwanted touch, forced drinking, punching, hitting, groping (Aaron)], shooting [Aaron], death by gunshot [a bad guy], gore, mention of past abuse [Aaron], arguing, near death, hospitals, deep concern and coping mechanisms, language. If I missed any, please let me know.
A/N: Hi all! It has been a while, but I am back now thanks to the end of the semester. I hope you are all doing very well! As always, I return with a novel of a Hotch story. I’ve had this idea for months now, and I am happy with how it turned out. I do want to encourage you to read the Content Warnings as this is angsty (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see a part two, let me know. I have many fluffy ideas for Aaron too, and those are coming, pinky promise. I am so happy to be writing again and hope to do a lot of it during the summer. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️
P.S. Special shoutout to @criminalskies for sharing emergency medicine with me for this fic! If I got things wrong, I'm sorry pookie.
List with all stories
y/n = your name
_c/t_ = coffee or tea
y/l/n = your last name
y/a = your age
Aaron drove down the lonely highway. He’d passed briefly through Shenandoah National Park. The peacefulness of the trees had calmed his mind for the hour that he was in the park, but as he got back onto the main road, the conversation that was bothering him started to edge its way back into his consciousness. Hotch wanted to close his eyes and potentially scream, but he settled for rubbing his hand angrily over his brow and then his eye bags that seemed to get heavier each day.
Sean had reached out last week saying that he was going to be in New York meeting someone and had asked if his older brother had wanted to get a drink and catch up. To Hotch, this was last-minute planning according to him and his packed schedule. But he’d managed to drag himself out of bed and on the road on Saturday morning. When he got into the city, he and Sean met up at a swanky restaurant that suited Aaron’s taste a bit more than Sean’s. That at least he had to give his little brother credit for.
In their adult lives, the Hotchner brothers had never seen eye to eye. It had only gotten worse when their mom had passed leaving the last real reason for them to be civil behind. Not that they were outwardly hostile, at least they hadn’t been until this afternoon, just that Aaron carried a lot of guilt and Sean had never seen to be able to step past his anger about what life had thrown at him. Neither could be blamed for their responses. But when Aaron arrived at the restaurant, Sean moved forward and shook his hand, and even gave him a hug with his other hand. Hotch returned the hug, realizing just how many years it had been since Sean and he had seen each other.
They pulled back and looked at each other for a moment before moving inside and being seated. They both decided to just have a drink. Aaron got a mezcal mule and Sean opted for a margarita on the rocks. They both did a bit of catching up on their first drink, but things started to get rocky when Sean said, “So, I’m seeing someone new. Her name is Jennifer and she’s got three kids from a past relationship. I’m going to visit her and her family over the weekend. If things look good I’m thinking of moving from Nashville. Or I’ll invite her to move down with me.” Hearing this, Hotch took a sharp breath in. Sean had always been impulsive, but this was a lot, even for him. Aaron had hoped that with time, his brother would have grown out of this lifestyle.
Hotch furrowed his brow and asked, “How long have you known her?” Sean sipped his drink but didn’t love Aaron’s tone. He replied a bit defensively, “A month and a half, but I don’t see why that’s a big deal. I’m just feeling it out, Aaron.” Hotch couldn’t help but scoff and say, “It sounds like a bit more than that.” Aaron’s reply only solidified Sean’s defensive nature, and he replied hotly, “Well what do you mean by that? You don’t even know Jennifer.” Aaron took a steadying breath. He didn’t want to come off as creating a narrative, or not trusting Sean, but Aaron had seen the same thing play out with his brother again and again, and each time Sean got hurt. Hotch looked at Sean and said, “I shouldn’t have said it like that. But what I’m trying to say is that you jump into things. You and I have both seen it before. You say that I don’t know Jennifer well, but from what I’m hearing I don’t know if you know her that well either, and you’re already talking about you or her moving across the country. Does that sound logical or well throughout to you?”
Sean was already heated. Something about Aaron’s attitude made him feel judged. His older, well-put-together brother always had something to say about his life. Sean set down his empty glass and said, “Well maybe you’d know more about me and my life if you called me sometimes. Or unlocked yourself from the chain connecting you to your desk and came down and saw me sometimes.” Aaron sighed and tried to defend himself even though he knew Sean was right saying, “Sean, I have Jack. And my work doesn’t just let me have off time like yours does. Plane tickets go both ways. And you never answered my question.”
Aaron pinched the bridge of this nose. He just once wanted Sean to think through his actions. Sean responded, “You’ve always thought you were better than me. And I think you really stopped caring about me when Mom died. But let’s be honest, you stopped caring when dad passed.” The mention of their family so quickly broke Hotch’s facade of composure and he said, “Don’t bring family into this Sean. You know I don’t talk about that. I care about you and I want you to make good choices.” Sean let out a sharp breath and said, “You don’t talk about it because you refuse to admit how fucked up it left you emotionally, Aaron. At least I can connect with women. And don’t start acting like dad on me now.” Sean’s latest comment landed like a slap on the face to Aaron and he said, “You better not be comparing me to him, Sean. You had better not be doing that right now.” After all the beatings Aaron had taken for his mom and for Sean who always seemed to be getting into trouble during his younger years, the comparison made Aaron feel sick. Before Aaron had a chance to reply or defend himself for making a comment he already regretted, Sean continued, “And I don’t think you're qualified to comment on my relationships or how I’ve hurt people before. Haley dumped you and then died because of you. So I can think of at least one woman who’s been treated worse because of a Hotchner and it wasn’t me.”
What Sean said made Aaron see red for a second. He stood, towering over Sean who was still sitting. It was one thing to have Sean bring up their parents, it was one thing to call him a workaholic and be emotionally unavailable. He knew these faults already. It didn’t really hurt him to hear them again, but the comment about Haley ate at him like acid on flesh. He had tried. He had tried so hard with Haley. He had loved her. He’d loved her with everything there was in him, and yes, it wasn’t enough, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. That her brutal death hadn’t torn him open sinew by sinew. Aaron felt his heart pumping in his ears. He was biting his tongue so hard that he tasted iron in his mouth. His fingernails dug into the calloused skin of his palms. If Sean was anyone else but his family, he would hit him. However, after all the abuse Aaron had seen, he made a promise to himself that he would never be violent with his family. It took everything in Hotch to uphold that promise. When Aaron came back to his senses, he realized he was standing. It was a good thing as Aaron grabbed his jacket and moved away from the table. He looked at Sean like he didn’t know him as he said, “Don’t ever call me again,” and walked out the door.
The first hour of the drive back to Quantico was filled with a silence so oppressive that Aaron felt it weighing him down like an iron vest. The next hour all Aaron could think about was what Sean had said, and how he had responded. It wasn’t a good feeling. The way he’d ended things, but he wasn’t sure what else he would or could have done at such a cruel statement. If Sean could say something like that to him, to his face, then he felt justified with his final words of their conversation, even if Aaron had seen shame slowly creep up Sean’s face as he realized what he’d said. What Aaron ended up feeling for the rest of the hour was grief. Grief not only for missing Haley but for what felt like a death in his and Sean’s relationship.
Hotch would have liked to drive all the way home, get another stiff drink, take a hot shower, and sleep, but the fact that he had a drink and it was still a long way off from home made that an impossibility. Aaron checked his gas tank. He did need a top-up and he hadn’t seen a station for miles, however, he approached what looked like a small bar nestled in the middle of nowhere. He slowed slightly and looked at the exterior of the old wooden building with a wrap-around porch. The Coors Light and Miller Light neon signs fighting to be seen in the bright daylight gave away that it was a bar and not some old building with a few cars parked outside. Hotch knew he needed a bathroom and this was going to have to do. It would be in and out. He’d grab a beer so he didn’t look like he was just there to relieve himself; even if that was the case.
Aaron pulled into the parking lot. His hands tapped the wheel restlessly as he picked one of the many empty spaces. Something in his gut felt off, but he blamed it on the argument. As good as he was with dealing with stress, this was different. Hotch dropped his head for a second and tried to get his bearings. When he’d taken a deep breath, he raised his head and unbuckled his seatbelt, opened his door, and swung his feet out onto the gravel of the parking lot. The stones crunched under his tread. Hotch stepped up the three stairs onto the wooden porch. He could tell the building had seen much better days. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was rot in the wooden beams that smelled of pine sap. Hotch opened the door which creaked on rusty hinges, as soon as he stepped into the dim, ill-lit room, Aaron knew that he had made a mistake. There there were five patrons and the bartender scattered around the small space. Three of the big burly men were sitting at the bar, and before they turned around to look at who had entered their space, Hotch could see the symbols of hate on their leather vests The antiquated flag of the South that rested above the bar solidified that this was the hangout for a very particular group of people. If he could, Aaron would have walked right back out the door. Even his more casual slacks and button-down were a far departure from the denim jeans, stained baseball caps, and leather, but it was too late, the men sitting at the bar had turned in their seats and eyed him suspiciously.
It was too late to turn around now and just walk out the door. It would look strange and there was something inside gnawing of him to investigate this space further. Call the FBI with evidence of the type of activity happening here. Not only that, but his bladder protested as well. He quickly cleared his throat and moved into the space and toward the restroom sign on the far wall. He strode with a false confidence toward the bathroom, the men turned back to their conversation but with lower voices. After Aaron relieved himself, he moved from the poorly lit room that smelled like piss. He rinsed off his hands and realized that there weren’t any paper towels, so he opted to wipe his damp palms and fingers on his pants. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.
Moving back into the bar, Aaron stepped up to the wooden countertop next to one of the men who continued to eye him with distaste. The man behind the bar turned his gaze at the tall, broody man standing in front of him, sizing Aaron up. After an awkward moment, the barkeep asked, “What can I get you?” It was clear from the way everyone was acting that he was not welcome here. At this point, Hotch didn’t want to be here either. After letting out a low breath, Hotch replied steadily, “Just a Budlight.” The bartender nodded and grabbed a clean glass from the cups stacked up on the back side of the bar. He moved to the draft beers and filled the glass to the brim, the frothy head spilling just the smallest bit over. The man didn’t bother wiping the side of the glass dry as he added a lime to the rim. As the red-faced man sat the glass down in front of Aaron he said, “That’ll be five dollars.” Hotch nodded and pulled out his wallet. He made sure to keep his FBI ID hidden as he pulled out a ten-dollar bill. Aaron’s eye flicked up the flag on the wall, and he regretted giving this place any money. But he’d just drink his beer as fast as he could without it looking conspicuous and then get the hell out of there. He handed the man the cash who grunted and pulled out a slightly wet five-dollar bill from the tip jar. Hotch took a few sips from the drink trying to drain the glass as quickly as possible. There was no chance of taking a picture without it being obvious, but he’d call the FBI as soon as he was back in his car. In fact, as soon as he was out the door. As he was drinking, one of the men from the tables near the window moved to the bar next to Hotch.
“Another Coors Steve.” The man who had just ordered was so close to Hotch that he could smell his sweat and very clearly see his hateful tattoo. The fact that the man had that visible in this place only solidified that Aaron would never take this road again. This place seemed more than just a spot for the locals to hang out and chat over a cheap beer. Hotch was halfway through his beer and making good time when the door opened again. Aaron couldn’t help like the rest of the patrons to turn his head slightly at the entryway. Hotch felt his stomach clench as he saw who was walking in the door. All other thoughts left his mind, and his work side kicked in. Aaron knew the man walking in the door well. He’d arrested him one year ago for a litany of hate crimes. The memory of the two young men who had been killed by the man stepping up to the bar with a familiar smile made Aaron’s stomach turn. Roman Invictus LeBrant, formerly Hayden Jude LeBrant before he fell down the alt-right pipeline and joined a hate group was a hard person to forget.
Roman noticed Aaron too. He was the man who had put him away for a year and two months of hell. Half of his time in prison had been spent in isolation for his protection as he kept picking fights with the inmates. Thanks to the fact that Roman had no spine and didn’t want to spend any time in jail, he had ratted out all of his co-conspirators and so-called ‘friends.’ Due to this, he had gotten off with a lighter sentence. The very sight of Agent Hotchner shot a bolt of rage through him. Roman’s face broke into a malicious smile. This time the tall and sauve FBI agent was on his turf, with his people. He didn’t have all of his friends to back him up. The man moved up to the bar with confidence. Everyone in the room's attitude shifted as their chosen leader entered their space. The man sitting next to Aaron quickly got up and made room for the man. Everyone also stood at the sheer presence of the man that they so revered. He stepped between Aaron and his friend. Roman looked at Steve and then to his left saying, “Steve, Dan. How are you motherfuckers?” The felon was so close to Aaron that he was brushing his thigh. The lack of personal space was meant to disturb Hotch, but it wasn’t working. Aaron had set down his glass, his eyes facing forward with a determined gaze. The fact was, as quickly as Roman had gotten out of prison, he had began his normal campaign of terror again. After that the man had made himself very hard to find, and to the top of the FBI’s most wanted list. So Hotch had a responsibility to make sure Roman got put back where he belonged. Unfortunately, Aaron couldn’t just whip you his phone and get the FBI here in an instant, and Roman knew this and was enjoying it.
The bartender could sense the tension between Hotch and his friend but chose not to speak. Roman looked straight ahead as well saying, “Hotchner.” Aaron replied, “LeBrant” in greeting. Aaron could feel his gut clench with worry. There was little he could do right now. Roman had come in the front door and was well aware that he was alone, so Hotch was left with not much more than his wits. He had his small pistol on his left ankle, but reaching for that would do little good as everyone in the bar was probably armed. Roman finally addressed the bartender saying, “Steve, I’ll take a shot of whiskey and one for my agent friend too.” At the word agent, the whole room's attitude shifted again. It was tense before, but now that they knew a fed was in their midst, the tension turned to simmering anger and fear.
Aaron knew that there wasn’t much worse than to be in a room full of people like LeBrant who were angry and afraid. Steve let out a chuckle and poured two generous double shots and placed one in front of Aaron and one in front of LeBrant. Aaron wearily looked at the drink and Roman took him with a single swig before turning to Hotch for the first time saying, “Aaron, I don’t think that drink is poisoned as I just had one myself, so drink up. I think you’re going to need it for what’s coming next.” Aaron met Roman’s hateful gaze, raised his shot glass, and said sarcastically, “To your health,” before downing the shot. The dark liquor burned down his throat and he stopped himself from coughing. As Hotch kept his face straight LeBrant asked, “So, have you liked my recent work? I’d think this is a sting operation on the FBI’s part, but you’re looking pretty alone from where you’re sitting right now.” The large man’s words were true as the group of men in the bar had all slowly started surrounding Aaron and cutting off any escape plans he might try and make.
Aaron was racking his brains for a way out of this situation but the repetition of the question, “Didn’t you like my stunt at that church, Agent? Didn’t it get your blood flowing? It certainly had me, excited.” Hotch cringed at the implication and replied, “I find little to be excited about to send a sixteen-year-old suicide bomber into a church filled with people, mostly women and children.” Roman scoffed and nodded at Steve for a beer bottle. Aaron shifted in his chair slightly which had an impact as everyone, including Steve, pulled guns on him. Everyone, except LeBrant that was. He was the king of his castle and he knew he would be protected no matter what. Roman raised his hands and said, “Easy boys. Take it easy. We don’t want things to get messy, just yet at least.” Hotch swallowed thickly and Roman grabbed the bottle off of the bar, looking at the label before quickly whipping it above his head and over the back of Aaron’s skull.
The sound and feeling of the ice-cold beer and the shards of glass colliding with Hotch’s head was so intense that it knocked him off his chair. Aaron took in a sharp breath as he closed his eyes as the alcohol streamed down his head and wetted his hair and the collar of his shirt. Closing his eyes didn’t help Aaron much with keeping a handle on the situation as he leaned heavily forward against the bar before being wrenched back by serval hands on his body to the center of the room.
Aaron stumbled as he was led away from any support. He could hear a few low laughs at his condition but was more worried about what was going to happen next. Hotch opened his eyes to see the floor swimming in front of his eyes. Before he could even get his feet under him, a knee met painfully with his groin. The pain of the glass tearing open his scalp and the feeling of warm blood flowing from his head was surpassed by the acute pain emanating from his nether regions up his body. Aaron grunted with pain and screwed his eyes shut again. The hot, large hands fondling a sensitive area of Hotch’s body had him open his eyes again.
He wasn’t surprised that it was Roman doing the fondling, thankfully at this point over his clothes. LeBrant spat in Aaron’s face as they made eye contact and Roman’s hand slowed as he said, “How do you like that Hotchner? How does it make you feel?” Aaron’s gaze hardened and he refused to reply to LeBrant’s taunts and demeaning actions. The gruff man gave Aaron’s groin a hard squeeze before stepping back. Hotch had just started to catch his bearings, when he realized he was being supported on either side of his body by two men with the rest of the gang stepping in front of him. His eye caught that his only gun had been taken. Roman, like a shark circling a bleeding victim in the ocean, hoping to get some sort of fearful response. When the man didn’t get one he snarled and pulled out a jack-knife and moved back to Aaron’s face flashing the point of the blade dangerously close to his skin. Still, Hotch didn’t flinch and Roman flicked the knife over Hotch’s cheek drawing fresh blood apart from the red liquid slowly causing Aaron’s vision to be disabled. Hotch naturally pulled back and Roman laughed before saying, “How would you like me to blind you, Aaron? Or cut off one of your ears. Do you think the FBI will still want you after that?” Aaron couldn’t stop himself from coughing out in pain as the men holding him tightened their grips on his forearms.
Roman was happy with his enemy's position, as bloody drool slipped from his mouth and onto the floor of the bar. LeBrant stepped back and stated, “Boys, if you want to have some fun you can. You can blame Agent Hotchner for locking me up for a few years, so why don’t you pay him back in kind? Now, no serious boldly harm, and not too much blood. You’ll have to clean this shit hole up after the mess you make of him, but enjoy for a bit.” Hotch raised his head to look at Roman defiantly, hoping to show that he still wasn’t afraid. Whatever he had planned for him, he still didn’t regret putting him away, and putting him away again. LeBrant met Aaron’s stern brown eyes and sat back at the bar, grabbing another drink like nothing was happening. The man said over his shoulder as the real beating began, “You’re welcome for the whiskey, Hotchner.”
LeBrant managed to down two more beers while watching and listening with a sick satisfaction to Aaron as he got punched, spat on, had drinks splashed in his face, and forced down his throat. Hotch gaged as another bottle was cast aside and hit the wall with the sound of shattered glass. He was beyond the point of silence as he took blow after blow to his face and torso. Aaron was sure his nose was broken as he took another hit to the face and his nose radiated pain through his nasal bridge and up his skull. He grunted in pain as his ribs got another beating. If pulverizing him to death was the plan, then the men surrounding him were doing a good job at that. However, what these bruisers weren’t very good at, and apparently Roman wasn’t good at noticing either, was that Aaron’s DNA was getting spread everywhere in the room from his saliva on the shattered beer bottles, or his blood dripping on the floor, or his hair which had been harshly pulled to jerk his head up. That was the thing about groups like these, they loved to act tough and strong, but their brains weren’t aways fully used. People like LeBrant could use others as a shield, but no matter what happened, it was going to be hard to get rid of every trace Aaron would leave in the space.
Hotch’s hold on consciousness was becoming harder, but he managed to notice when the front door opened again. Aaron had hoped it would be someone who was an outsider like him, someone who didn’t belong here. But the normalcy of seeing a man being beaten told Aaron the new man was part of the group. Hotch’s neck hurt as he made eye contact with the man. He had sandy blond hair and clear grey eyes. The look of surprise and innocence quickly left the young man’s face before anger and hatred took over. Aaron dropped his head not sure what was happening but unable to support his own head. Because of this, he didn’t fully understand why the arms that were holding him up suddenly slacked and there was a heavy scuffle of feet as the floor came dangerously close. Before he could reach the ground there was shouting and then a loud popping sound that Aaron realized was a bullet once he felt a searing hot pain tear through his side whipping his body back and to the ground. The pain was worse than anything Aaron had already felt before now. The pain was so bad that he struggled to get oxygen in and his vision went black for a few seconds before he took a huge choking gulp of air in which only blinded him with more pain.
While Hotch was writhing on the ground trying to get a grasp of what had happened and not blacking out, the older, more seasoned members of Roman’s gang stood for a brief moment of silence, as the men realized what had happened before an uproar started. They dropped their victim and rushed to the newest person in the bar throwing the gun from his hand. Roman stumbled out of his chair, face turning red with rage as he took a breath and shouted at the top of his lungs, “What the fucking hell are you doing Davies? What the mother fucking hell!” Spittle flew from his mouth and Davies, the newest, and youngest recruit to LeBrants' cause swallowed nervously. He hadn’t expected this response. He thought he’d get praise for his actions as he was always told to take bigger steps and take risks for the cause. Greg, one of the senior circles slapped Davies in the face and said, “Roman’s talking to you. Answer him.” Davies stuttered as he said, “That’s the guy that put you away. I thought that I should put him where he belonged. Hanged from a noose or underground. I ain’t got no rope, so I shot the fucker.” Davies was all in and zealous for the group's beliefs and in his case. Roman bowed his head and muttered “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath.
LeBrant came back to the moment when Aaron let out a soft whimper and placed his hand over his stomach where blood was pooling dangerously fast beneath him and onto the ground. Even in his agonizing state, Aaron knew that the most important thing was to try and stop the flow of blood as much as possible. If it was instinct or training, Hotch couldn’t be sure with the pain he was in. For now, all he could do was try and survive. Roman was thinking the same thing for himself as a multitude of options flashed in front of his mind. He was the leader and he needed to act like one as Davies looked at him like a deer in the headlight while the rest of his men glanced uneasily between Aaron’s hunched-up body on the floor and their leader.
Roman cleared his throat and took a more secure stance, with his feet apart and chest out. An idea was forming in his mind and he just needed his people to fall in line. Roman looked at Davies first and said, “It’s alright son. You did well shooting the fed. He earned it.” With those words, the men seemed to relax a bit and one knelt down next to Hotch to see the damage. Roman nodded a self-soothing gesture before saying, “Okay. Steve. Get us a trash bag or something to stop the blood so it will be easier to clean. Let’s do that first.” Steve rummaged through his back bar and tossed a roll of saran wrap and tape to Greg. Hank another senior member moved next to Greg and asked Roman, “Are we saving his ass?” LeBrant scoffed and replied, “Funk no. Just don’t want the fucker bleeding all over. Now, wrap him up tight, and don’t make it too comfortable on him either.” Hank snorted back laughter and he pulled Aaron’s torso off the floor roughly. Hotch tried uselessly to stop anyone from removing his hands from the gunshot wound, but he was too weak to put up a fight. His large hands were slick with blood as he tried and failed. Greg took out the plastic wrap and pushed the roll to Hotch’s stomach causing Aaron to groan out in pain. The pair on the floor moved the roll over the agent's wound minimally stopping the flow of blood. Davies watched as Aaron convulsed in pain on the ground.
The young man had thought he would feel better killing a fed, but what he was seeing was making him want to vomit instead. When the seran wrap was taped tight over Hotch’s blood-soaked shirt Roman instructed, “Greg, Hank, Davies, go take Agent Hotchner into the woods. Far away. I’d recommend the national park. Don’t kill him. Let him bleed out or better yet, let some animal finish him off. Take him in his car and then when you’ve dumped the body torch the car.” Everyone else, we’re cleaning this place, top to bottom. No drop of blood, nothing can be found here.” Everyone nodded and took on their roles quickly.
Hotch was jerked back to consciousness as he was dragged out the front door. He blearily saw someone open the door to his SUV before he was placed in the back seat. His brain was thinking of trying to run, to call for help, but he was stripped of his phone and hardly had the strength to keep his eyes open. Davies was standing outside the car still not sure what to do exactly, and most certainly not sure how to feel. Roman looked out the window at the man that had the potential to fuck his life over again. He turned to Steve and said, “Go out there and kill Davies. Headshot, make it fast, and don’t let him suffer.” Steve looked up at Roman and said astoundedly, “Roman?” LeBrant turned to Steve and said, “You heard me. The kid’s a liability. I am not going back to that shit fucking hell hole of a prison cell, and Davies seems to be trying to send me there, so go out there and get the job done. Put his body in the truck with Hotchner and tell Greg and Hank when they set the car on fire to leave Davies's body in there.”
It was with blind adoration that Steve hesitantly grabbed his rifle and stepped outside. The young man was still standing while looking at Aaron’s SUV as Greg and Hank looked at a map to decide where to drop Aaron off to have his last few moments of life. They were arguing about accessibility, getting the car in without being seen, and lugging the agent out into the middle of the surrounding forest. It had to be just right without the chance of anyone catching them but still able for two men to pull off alone. They didn’t trust Davies for shit. He was too green for the whole operation. Not trustworthy in their eyes.
Meanwhile, Aaron had gathered some of his bearings in the back seat. He was unhappy with his supine position in the back. It would be far too easy for him to be taken out quietly and quickly after the SUV had pulled away from the bar. While Aaron was waiting for something to happen, he pressed his left hand to his side tightly, grit his teeth, and used his right to slowly inch himself up to a seated position. He was well aware that this position was causing him to bleed out faster, but at this stage, life didn’t seem too long, and if he was going to go out, he would understand as much as he could as to what was happening around him, and if possible, leave traces for the team to find his body after.
The thought hurt Hotch as Jack would lose both of his parents. Aaron held himself back from crying, but the idea of his son being alone tore at him just as badly as the hole in his torso did. Aaron did not expect to see what he did. Just as his eyes got high enough to see out the window, the young man who had shot him had his name called from the porch of the establishment. Davies was about five feet from the bar and turned around. He didn’t see the shotgun in Steve’s hand, but Aaron did. There was nothing Hotch could do but close his eyes just before the blood splatter and brain matter painted the tires of his car. Aaron fell back onto the seat, not expecting to see an execution like that. He was too beaten to get back up, but at least he was laying on his side instead of on his back which would afford him a look out the front window so he could see where he was going or try and make mental notes of some landmarks; assuming that he wasn’t going to be blindfolded. From the state of things outside and groups shouting at each other, Hotch didn’t think that those dumping him would do anything more than take him far out and drop him.
A few moments later the back door was opened again and several men heaved Davies's body onto the floor in the back of the car. Aaron didn’t focus on the body apart from unintentionally seeing what was left of what had been a youthful face. He was unrecognizable now. Hotch closed his eyes and tried to steel himself for the ride to come. If he survived long enough he’d think about the man on the floor -- later, much later. Right now he centered his head on Jack, then on the team who were on a case in Ohio. Lastly, he tried his best to listen to Hank and Greg as they got in and revved the engine.
They were silent as they slowly drove out of the parking lot. The crunch of gravel and Aaron’s labored breathing punctuated the silence. It was clear to Aaron that the two men in the front were remaining quiet so Aaron wouldn’t have any more details about them, their plans, or the organization. He and the BAU had taken Roman down once, and they didn’t want to be in that frying pan again. As they hit the main road, Greg, who was driving, stayed just at the speed limit to not attract any attention from passing cars even though there were none on the road. However, as the car started hitting bumps, Aaron couldn’t hold in his pained grunts and whimpers as searing pain shot through him with each unexpected dip or rise in the SUV. It seemed that Aaron’s pained sounds were too much for the men, and they looked at each other and then the downed agent in the rearview mirror before they both started a light conversation that was fully juxtaposed to the gruesome scene around them.
The men began talking about the weather and then talked about their wives. Aaron could hardly hear the conversation as he tried to keep himself awake. The duration of the car ride took about half an hour, and Aaron noticed one very strange-looking tree that had been struck by lightning and bifurcated down the center almost perfectly. His brain had started to be pulled into so many different directions as his sanity slipped away from the blood loss. His brain wondered how many trees like that got struck annually, and he knew that Spencer would have an answer to that question. The team flashed before his mind when an abrupt halt of the car almost had Hotch fly into the seatbacks in front of him. He managed to not have that happen, and shortly after Greg and Hank were at the left side of the car and both grunted as they pulled Aaron by the legs out of the car.
Hotch almost hit the muddly path, but the two men held onto his underarms jostling him back to awareness. As strong as these men thought they were, they hadn’t realized just how hard it was to drag a limp body around, and Aaron had no strength to walk on his own feet and no desire to help in his own demise. In fact, if he could make it harder for them, he would. So Aaron coughed and made sure that some of his spit and blood got on the ground. Not only that but he also dug his toes into the earth so his tennis shoes left little trails in the mud. Hotch knew that if he was dealing with a more competent group, they would do something about this now, but Greg and Hank were too busy hauling him along to care at the moment. Greg was significantly taller than Hank and due to this, Aaron’s left side was far lower to the ground making the weight distribution of his toned body uneven. After only ten minutes, once the trio had entered what seemed to be a secluded and wooded part of the forest, the shorter man who was carrying the greater bit of weight grunted out, “Let’s dump him here. I can’t keep doing this and then have to trash a car too.” Greg, who was also tired agreed and they dropped Aaron like a load of bricks and took off as quickly as they could discussing loudly that there was a cliff face nearby and it was unlikely that anyone would find Aaron for days. Hotch moaned slightly and took in the scent of the wet earth near him. He supposed that dying in the forest, in nature, wasn't the worst place to go. It smelled nice and if he could only turn over he’d see the sky and canopy of trees above him once more. As his vision started fading again he realized he might not have that chance.
Nearby Aaron’s dump site, y/n had been on a four-day long backpacking trip. They’d asked their boss for the Friday and Monday off months ago. y/n had needed a chance to unwind, be alone, and potentially scream into the void. That type of behavior didn’t normally fly in their apartment and they were feeling so much more at peace after their first day of hiking. y/n had found a lovely spot to set up their small one-person tent for the evening. When y/n had gotten up the next morning and looked down the tall rock ravine, they saw the bolts in the wall from previous climbers. They regretted that it had rained the last night making any climbing impossible. y/n considered continuing moving along the twenty-five mile trail they had mapped two months before, but realized that they weren’t with a group and they were already almost halfway through the trail and could finish hiking it in a full day. Because of this, and because y/n had promised to do whatever they felt like on this trip, they decided to stay in that spot for the day. It was a bit off the beaten track which is what they wanted and in all honesty real life had been so stressful recently that just taking a day to sleep, read, and swim in the nearby river sounded like exactly what y/n needed.
y/n slept in another hour before making a cup of _c/t_. While they sipped their steaming cup, they picked up their most recent book and took a few minutes absorbing the pages of the story making small mental notes about where the plot might go and if some twist was coming in the next chapter. Somehow all the books that y/n read ended up having weird twists that they loved to hate. After getting through their drink and feeling warmed, y/n changed into light hiking attire that could be stripped down for a dip in the lake as long as the water wasn’t too cold or full of bramble from the rain last night. It was a short hike down to the water's edge and it was crisp, but not too cold to for a midday swim. y/n laid a towel down on the rocky shore after getting out of the water and drying off in the warmth of the sun. They dozed on and off as they tanned for a bit. Not that y/n was a vain person, but with the oncoming of summer, having a bit of a tan couldn’t hurt. When y/n was happy with their time by the lake, they moved back toward their tent and supplies which they had put in a bear bag and lifted high above the ground. It was about a thirty minute walk back to the tent when y/n would plan on what to do with the rest of their free day.
It felt wrong to just waste such a pretty day. When y/n was close to their campsite, they stopped in their tracks abruptly. The sound of voices and heavy footsteps is what made them halt. y/n’s stomach dropped for some reason. If they were on a more well-known trail or popular camping site, y/n would likely greet those on their walk in the opposite direction. But this was different. This area was secluded, off the beaten track. And from the sound of it, it was two men moving slowly nearby. y/n had spent enough time outside camping and backpacking to hear loads of horror stories of those having bad things done to them on the trail. Sure some of them were overembellished, but certainly not all of them, and y/n wasn’t willing to take the risk with their own safety. y/n slinked back into the brush and hoped that the men would stop before catching sight of their tent. y/n took slow soft breaths and waited, all there was to do was wait. Just as the footsteps seemed to be right on them, they stopped.
y/n couldn’t see the men. They’d stopped just out of sight. As they stopped, y/n realized that something was very, very wrong. The strong breathing of the men had hidden the sounds of another person. Someone who was clearly in pain. Their breathing was raspy like air wasn’t fully supplying their body. There was also a very painful-sounding grunt as the injured party hit the ground. One of the men said, “Fuck, that’s hard work. I don’t believe Roman’s stories now about all his brawls and picking people up in the clanger now.” There was a grunt and another, deeper voice replied, “Shit man, I don’t believe half of his crap, but he’s the boss. He says jump and I jump. Now let’s get back to the car and torch it. The agent here won’t last long.” The first voice agreed and said, “Yeah. I need a shower and another beer. Let’s hope it’s all cleaned up by the time we get back to Steve’s.”
y/n felt like they couldn’t stand still any longer. The desire to take a deep breath of just look out to see what was happening at the men who were talking pulled at them like an itch. But not all itches should be scratched. Some needed to not be disturbed, and it felt like torture, but y/n held back from moving until the sound of chatter and footsteps were long gone. Even after they were out of audible range, y/n waited. After another few restless minutes, they got up from their hiding position. From the sound of it, someone, perhaps someone unsafe was very injured. Even so, it wasn’t like y/n to leave someone hurt to fend for themself. With caution, y/n moved through the low brush and mud, and after a few paces, they noticed a man lying on his stomach. It didn’t take y/n more than a second to realize that the man on the ground, even if he was some hardened criminal, was unable to fight. Besides this fact, there was the comment about the “Agent not being around long,” so the man might have been on the opposite side of crime. Without hesitation y/n moved next to the prone form in the mud and set down their backpack. The man gave a small sound, perhaps aware that there was someone else near him. y/n looked over the man and noticed the saran wrap around his torso. It was a poor attempt to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound. Given how much blood the man had lost, there was no time to lose in getting the man medical help.
y/n knelt down next to the man and noted the thick blood coating his forehead and brow. y/n patted his shoulder, and he managed to open his eyes. Aaron could see the blurry figure of someone kneeling in front of him. He thought it was a hallucination until they touched his shoulder and tried to say something to him. Understanding the stranger's words was beyond all comprehension to him now. y/n could tell that he didn’t understand or see them well, but at least he was awake. It would be in his best interest to keep him awake. If the man slipped off to sleep, he may never wake again. So with that in mind, and to try and keep him in as calm a mindset as possible, y/n took off their jacket which they had tied around their waist, and placed it on the man’s back. It would do for a bit of padding and something to soak up the excess blood. There was no need to cut this side of the plastic wrap, and why it had been added in the first place was a mystery. But that wasn’t the main goal right now. The main goal was to stabilize the man for long enough until medical help arrived. y/n grit their teeth and said firmly. “I’m going to roll you over onto your back and then run to my tent and grab some supplies while I call 9-1-1 for you, okay.”
The man didn’t make a sound, but y/n knew that shifting his weight was going to be painful, so they didn’t waste more time. Given the man’s parlor, there was no time to waste. y/n grabbed the man’s shoulder and hip and tried to slowly and carefully roll him onto his back. As soon as y/n pulled their hands away, which were slick with blood, the man groaned in pain as his body settled. He was still awake. y/n cringed to hear him and said, “I’m going to run to my camp, get some supplies, and call in an emergency helicopter. I’ll be back in five minutes max.” y/n swallowed thickly trying not to be sick at the sight of the man. They grabbed his right hand and placed it over the bullet hole. The man’s hand was crusted over with blood, and it was large. His fingernails had dirt caked under them, and y/n imagined that it might be painful when he got washed up with all the hair his arms had on them. y/n snapped back to the moment. It had only been a millisecond, but in moments of high stress, they always found themselves focusing on the smallest, most insignificant things. They shifted their eyes to the man’s and he seemed to be locked on theirs. y/n nodded their head and said, “Hold your hands here, as hard as possible, okay.” The man nodded slightly, and with that, y/n got up and ran toward their campsite.
It was in moments like these that y/n hated that they didn’t always carry their cell phone with them when they camped alone, but then again, they hadn’t expected to find themselves in this situation either. y/n was an experienced outdoors person. With friends and family that respected and highlighted being self sufficient and being able to take care of one’s self. In their world being unable to handle any situation was a weakness and therefore y/n had pressed themselves to always be prepared. This included knowing basic first aid and other skills that were more niche to their interest in spending a lot of time outside. Although it had been hard to be a parental figure and having to figure out being self-sufficient from a very young age, the parentification had equipped y/n for moments like these, and for meeting strange men in the woods if it ever came to that. y/n ran as quickly and as carefully as possible. It would be no good to anyone if they slipped and twisted or broke an ankle or wrist before getting back to the man. The image of his bloody and bruised body was seared in their retinas. They hadn’t seen anything this bad, ever, and the questions on what had happened to the man and who he was came faster than y/n could process them. It was all a sickening blur. y/n made it to their camp and almost dove into their tent. They found their phone first which was still on the solar-powered charging brick. y/n checked for a signal and let out a small prayer of thanks that there was a signal. Even though they were pretty far out, a signal was more often present than not. And if there wasn’t, there were always ways to contact emergency services, but it would take longer, and there wasn’t time for longer right now.
After one ring the emergency operator answered, “9-1-1, please state your name and the nature of your emergency.” The woman on the phone sounded calm, calmer than y/n felt. Their breath had picked up with all the running, and they had to clear their throat before saying, “My name in y/n, _l/n_. I’m at Shenandoah National Park on the east side camped near Ghost View Lake. There’s a man who needs a Medevac as soon as possible. He’s been shot in the torso, and he’s been severely beaten.” There were a few clicks on the other end of the line and the responder asked, “Are you with this man now? Is he still breathing?” y/n nodded, taking in the person’s words before saying, “I’m not with him right now. He was breathing when I left him. I had to run to my tent to call you and get my emergency supplies.” There was more typing and a muffled voice on the other end of the line before the woman came back on saying, “Please get back to the man as quickly as possible. Do you have any medical training?” y/n nodded saying, “Some, but not much. The bullet seems to have gone clean through though, and he’s lost a lot of blood.” As y/n was speaking, they began packing all of the important things to help the hurt man into their large backpack. By the time they had started zipping up the sides, the operator had told y/n to get back to the Hotch and light a flare for the helicopter to see so they could find a spot to land. The woman relayed that it might be twenty minutes or more before help came, and to keep the man awake if possible. As y/n ran back toward Aaron, they were given more specific instructions on what to do once they were back. y/n kept the woman on the line and as soon as they found an open and dry spot close to where they had found Aaron, they pulled out a flare and struck it against the cap of the flare. Once the melting hot red light burst from the tip like the tale of a demon, they set the flare on a smooth rock, far enough away from the wet brush and leaves to not start a forest fire. Once this was done, y/n moved as quickly as possible back to the man.
Since y/n had been gone, Aaron felt his strength ebb again. Had the person said something to him? The world was dark again and he was beginning to feel numb. But the memory of the feelings of their hands on his, pressing against his stomach reminded him that they had been real, at least for a moment. Hotch also knew that sleep was death, and therefore grit his teeth and pressed against his torso again over his wound. The pain shot through him again, though his time was less intense; he knew this was not a good sign. Just as Aaron felt his hand slipping, he noticed a bright red light in the corner of his vision, and the person who had been with him before returned.
y/n skidded to a halt in front of the man, falling to their knees saying, “Hey, you’re still with me. Good. You’re doing good. Help is coming, I promise.” y/n placed their hands on either side of his head and the feeling of their fingers on the side of his face had Hotch open his eyes slightly. Just the simple feeling of touch was a comfort, even if he was doomed to bleed out on the forest floor. Hotch pondered how funny small things became huge things when life was about to end. y/n noticed his brown eyes on them and said, “I’m just making sure your head is laying flat. Then I’m going to check your mouth to make sure you’re not going to choke on your own blood.” Aaron tried to nod, but he couldn’t manage it. y/n knelt further forward and helped Aaron open his mouth. Thankfully there didn’t appear to be any blockage of his trachea, though his breathing was labored. Where or what that situation was, was beyond y/n, so they moved to the next thing the emergency operator had said to do.
The woman was still on the phone, but y/n was so hyper-focused on the task in front of them, that they didn’t think to give a report on the man’s condition. While he was trying to see the person in front of him more clearly, y/n started pulling things out of their backpack and setting them on the ground, attempting to not get them muddy or contaminated while still being efficient. Once y/n had pulled out their small knife, their first aid kit, and the clean clothes they had, they rezipped their bag and moved to the man’s feet. y/n spoke loudly, so the man could possibly hear, “I’m going to raise your feet. Keep the blood going to your head as much as possible. y/n grabbed their bag and placed it just to the side of the man’s lower legs. y/n didn’t want to shift the man’s body much, if at all, so they had to have things in place. They took another sturdy breath and lifted his left leg just high enough to move their backpack under his knees. The man groaned and y/n said, “I’m sorry. Sorry,” y/n repeated one more time before moving the other leg next to the first. y/n knew that this would be the least of the man’s pain. y/n placed their hands on the ground and took another stabilizing breath, reminding themselves that they could do this. That they could do anything, that they had had to do everything. y/n tried to picture the man as someone they’d protected in the past. Someone that they would do anything for. This helped y/n in moving forward to the next step. Before doing what needed to be done, y/n looked at the man again, tapping his face. Those big brown eyes met theirs again, half understanding, half sad. y/n said more softly this time. “This is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Try not to bite your tongue. Keep your teeth clenched,” y/n demonstrated, “like this.” y/n they looked a fool, but what else could they do?
y/n pulled a packaged sanitary wipe from the ground and ripped it open. They rubbed it over their hands thoroughly. When the moisture had evaporated, y/n grabbed their first aid kit and pulled out all of the cotton balls and cotton bandages that were inside. y/n placed them on top of the kit and hoped the no wind would blow the supplies away, there were already scant few as it was. Next, y/n grabbed their knife and opened it with a flick of the wrist. y/n knew that once they made the next move there was no going back until the medics arrived. With a look of determination, y/n shifted forward and carefully slipped the tip of the knife under the plastic wrap covering the man’s front. His shirt protected his skin from the sharp blade from cutting him further, and y/n cut up and out with as much care as possible. The blood made the surface of the saran wrap slippery in y/n’s free hand and the multiple layers were not as easy to cut through. However, after what felt like an eternity and with y/n’s heart beating loudly in their ears, the plastic was freed from his body. y/n quickly closed and locked their blade and pushed the plastic barrier aside along with Hotch’s soiled shirt. Even though the saran wrap hadn’t done much to stop the blood from leaving the man’s body, it’s removal along with the final absorption barrier being pulled aside allowed the blood to ebb up a bit more in a trickle of crimson. Again y/n didn’t have time to look at the deep red pooling up on the man’s stomach. Instead, they grabbed a cotton ball and with as much mental strength as they had, pushed it into the weeping wound. The man’s body jolted in pain, but y/n ignored him and grabbed another piece of cotton and then another, pushing each of the white puffs into the bullet hole. The clean cotton was instantly stained red, and y/n tried to ignore the man’s cries of pain knowing that this was for the best. Keep the blood in the body, get his legs up, keep him awake. That was what the nurse had said and what was what they were going to do. At least to the best of their ability. Another eternity later, the hole was filled. It was still releasing blood but at a slower pace.
y/n grabbed the biggest cotton bandage they had and pressed it on top of the packed wound. y/n placed both hands over this last dam, and pressed down to try and keep the man stable. To keep him alive. It wasn’t until all of this had been accomplished that they managed to look up at his face. The man’s eyes were drooping closed and y/n said, “Hey, hey, stay with me. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?” Aaron turned his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look at the person helping him. It was a comfort to be in their presence. He still couldn’t see them so he said in a low voice, “Hotchner.” y/n nodded, assuming it was a last name. They were at a loss for what to say next. Nothing felt right, so they opted for questions, easy ones. Or at least ones that seemed easy for them. “Hi, Mr. Hotchner. Where were you going today? What brought you this way.”
Aaron, whose brain had been feeling numb for some time, had started getting more blood circulation thanks to his legs being lifted off the ground. He could feel his helper's hands still over his side. Where he was and what was happening felt beyond him again. He didn’t like the feeling at all, but his body was shutting down and he half-mumbled, “I’m going to see my wife. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” y/n, nodded and replied softly, “I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you. And I know you’ll be happy to see her.” It wasn’t until this point that y/n had thought about him as a person. Not actually as a person, person, but as a man with a life and things outside this very moment of survival. But as they raised one hand and just barely shifted his hair that was caked with blood, off his forehead it became increasingly more difficult to see Mr. Hotchner as anything else than a man who is hurt and probably afraid to die. At the person’s touch, Aaron moved his dominant hand up and this allowed y/n to see that he wasn’t wearing a ring. This fact only came to y/n’s mind because Mr. Hotchner had just said that he was going to see his wife. y/n justified that perhaps the man was just one of many many husbands who didn’t wear a wedding ring, but for some reason, y/n didn’t think that this man would be one of them. Something in their gut just said otherwise. A moment later Hotch said something that would shock y/n even more as he said, “I’m worried about Jack. I can’t go away.” y/n looked up at him and moved their hand back to the now blood-soaked bandage and asked, “Who is Jack Mr. Hotchner?”
The image of Jack passed in front of Aaron, and he saw himself holding his child, Jack smiling. Maybe it was Christmas time because the lights were twinkling in the background. Then Jack at his first soccer game came to mind, his little legs carrying him toward a ball he was sure to miss. Hotch blinked back tears as he came back to himself. Weakly he said, “My son. Jack is my son. He’s a good kid. Really good. He doesn’t deserve this.” Aaron was thinking about the very real possibility of his son losing both of his parents, but he didn’t vocalize that out loud. y/n furrowed their brow and said “You’re going to be fine Mr. Hotchner. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see your son and your wife again. I know it.” y/n was speaking to themselves now mostly. The trauma of finding someone brutalized in the woods and the possibility that he might die in front of them was finally settling in. y/n had experienced trauma before, but not like this. This was different. Thankfully y/n didn’t have much time to explore this train of thought as the sound of the helicopter approached nearby. y/n bowed their head in thanks for the sound that drowned out their thoughts and didn’t even realize that they had set their head on Aaron’s chest while still keeping their trembling hands on his wound.
When they arrived, it took the emergency medics a moment to pry y/n off of Aaron as they struggled to let the man they were trying to save go. When y/n realized what was happening, they moved off to the side on unsteady feet and watched the flight paramedics assess and then begin rudimentary efforts to stabilize their patient. y/n watched as a blood transfusion was started and the packing of the bullet wound was made better with medical-grade supplies. These things felt like a blur and as the two-person medical team began moving Aaron onto a stretcher, the sound of police sirens in the distance became audible. y/n realized that the helicopter operator had shared the patient's location and law enforcement was coming to help. This allowed y/n to relax slightly realizing that they were not going to be left alone in the woods once the Medevac was gone.
Although y/n had felt peace knowing more help was on the way, the questions seemed endless as police arrived and went over the course of the afternoon again. They pointed out everything. Said as much as they could remember and watched as the orange helicopter lifted off and moved Eastward. The last thing they heard from the trauma team at the hospital was, “We have a multisystem failure. Patient is already on a transfusion and Fentanyl…” as they passed by,. y/n’s brain now felt like scrambled eggs and they longed for some respite. Eventually, the police said that y/n would need to come to the station and that they could get a ride in one of the cruisers. Behind y/n’s back, the officers also noticed that y/n should also go to a hospital, and driving there themselves was not a safe idea for them. A few minutes later, y/n tipped their head against the headrest in the backseat of the police car simply letting things happen to them at this point. The officers had assured them that a recovery and crime scene team would gather their belongings from their campsite along with their car. This was all for evidence too, but y/n was too tired to comprehend what was being said to them.
A few hours later y/n made it out of the room they had been seen in at the hospital. It was very dark outside at this point but the police had easily identified the man they had found, Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner. The words ran over y/n like a wave. Anything would bowl them over now, but finding out that they had found a federal agent near death in the woods was astounding. In the hospital, y/n was given a thorough exam and then given some strong sleep medication and some Benzos so that y/n could have a sound night’s rest. The local police station had called the Quantico Field Office to let the Beaure know that Agent Hotchner was in critical condition at the JFK University Medical Center.
As it turned out the BAU was out on a case at the moment, but the Lead Team Coordinator said they would reach out. Within the hour the hospital and police station knew that a member of the BAU was flying up immediately on their jet and should be there sometime around three in the morning. With this information in mind, the police had asked y/n to stay at least one day in town before going home. The very professional-sounding man, Agent Rossi, who was headed to the hospital had asked them to stay and talk. The police had made the choice easy by booking a cab and a room to get y/n from the hospital to the hotel room they had booked in their name. Thankfully, y/n’s boss, after a few minutes of explaining what had happened, had given them the rest of the week off. y/n knew they would need it. Nothing felt quite real anymore and some more time alone would be good. Before y/n went to call the cab, to get a shower and sleep, they stopped at the receptionist's desk and asked, “Do you know if Aaron Hotchner is in a stable condition?” The nurse asked them how they knew the patient and y/n showed their own medical bracelet and explained that they had found Mr. Hotchner. The man looked at y/n and how tired they appeared, nodded, and replied, “I’m sorry, I can’t share any information about the patient” There was a long pause before they added, “However, Mr. Hotchner is still in the ICU.” y/n nodded, wanting more information but also knowing that they had already been told more than was allowed. With that scant information, y/n moved outside and caught their ride.
The first thing that was surprising to Aaron was the fact that he woke up at all. The feeling of the stiff mattress against his fingers and the crisp sheets covering his body. The sterile scent of antiseptic was the next thing he noticed. He took a few moments to just take in the fact that he had survived the ordeal with Roman. Much of what had happened after the beating in the bar was foggy and beyond his reach. He tried to take a deep breath to center himself but that was a serious error as this triggered parts of his body that weren’t ready to be used that way yet. He let out a cough only exacerbating his pain. The feelings of multiple IVs which he detected now became more apparent and when he opened his eyes, the blurry figure of someone standing came into better focus as the door to his room opened letting in more light from the hallways. As his vision cleared, he could see Dave turn around and greet someone who must have been a doctor. Rossi stepped back a bit, but just knowing Dave was here let Aaron be checked over and taken care of. He didn’t have the energy for much more than being pocked and very lightly prodded before he slipped back into unconsciousness.
The next time Hotch woke, he was more aware. The room didn’t spin and he could see Dave looking down from his seat near the hospital bed. Aaron didn’t know what to say and just said, “Hey.” At hearing Hotch, Rossi sat forward in his seat and softly replied, “Hey there. Looks like you had a hell of a time with Sean.” Sean hadn’t even crossed Aaron’s mind, but Dave’s attempt at humor while he was feeling like hell was actually funny and Aaron let out a half scoff, half laugh before leaning his head back on the pillow. It wasn’t until he tried to move the blanket to feel more covered that he realized his arm was in a cast. His whole body felt numb, and in that moment, he was grateful for opioids. Rossi moved forward and moved the blanket up and over Aaron’s shoulders. Hotch looked up at Dave and asked, “How bad?” Rossi’s eyes moved toward him, a sure sign that it wasn’t good. After a deep breath, Dave said, “You lost a lot of blood, you’re fighting an infection, concussion, broken arm, and multiple lacerations to your head and body.” Hotch nodded, absorbing the information before saying, “Yeah, Sean really did a job on me.” Rossi could see regret in Aaron’s eyes even though the statement was an attempt at a joke. Dave frowned. Something had happened with Sean and it wasn’t fair to Aaron after being through such a crucible that he should feel bad about anything at the moment. Dave thought about reaching out and patting Hotch on the shoulder, but it was likely Aaron wasn’t looking for touch right now, so he settled with telling his best friend that the team was coming to find LeBrant, who had gone into hiding, and how Jessica would bring Jack down when the doctors said it was okay. Aaron nodded again, thankful that Dave knew him so well. When Rossi had given him some time to just relax and center himself, Aaron asked, “Who was it that found me? Have you seen them?” All Aaron could remember about the person who had saved his life was that they had stayed with him. That their presence, even if he had died, had made him feel safe.
Rossi replied, “I haven’t seen them yet, though I’ve asked them to meet me here. There are some questions I still have about their report. They should arrive in a few minutes, and that way you can have some time alone if you like. I did read about them, they’re name is y/n y/l/n y/a and they live in Virginia.” Aaron swallowed, his mouth feeling dry before saying, “I’d like to see them when they come. If they’re comfortable with it.” Dave nodded and replied, “I’ll ask them when they get here. For now, just try and rest. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll get the nurse.” Aaron nodded and let his eyes slip closed again. He could sense that Dave was keeping things from him, about what he couldn’t tell, but he’d ask in time, for now, he was alive.
y/n entered the hospital again. This time it felt better. They were going to get some answers, hopefully, or at least some information about Agent Hotchern’s condition. They’d answer more questions about that information. After the last few day or so the thought of Mr. Hotchner hadn’t left their mind. y/n went to the receptionist who paged another party in the hospital and after a few minutes, an older man walked into the hallway. y/n could tell that he was Agent Rossi instantly. His clothing and demeanor gave him away, along with the deep circles under his eyes. y/n turned toward the man and extended their hand toward him. Rossi gave y/n a reassuring smile and as he took their hand said, “Hello. I’m Agent Rossi. You must be y/n y/l/n?” y/n nodded yes and said, “Yes Sir. That’s me.” Dave gave a small laugh at being called sir, and gently led y/n to a seat on the far side of the waiting room. They both took a seat and there was a moment of awkward silence as they both made mental observations about the other. Finally, y/n said, “Agnent Rossi, I’m happy to answer any questions you might have about my report, but could you tell me if Mr. Hotchner is alright?” Dave dipped his head and pulled himself together saying, “He’s doing better. He’ll have a hard and long recovery, but he’ll be alright. Hotch has gone through a lot, he’ll make it through this too.” y/n listened thinking about the type of person that can say with confidence after such an ordeal that they would make it though. It seemed like a lot, but Mr. Hotchner was clearly cut from Kevlar. y/n replied, “Thank you for telling me. Now, um, what questions did you have for me? I wrote down some notes to try and jog my memory.” Rossi lifted an eyebrow as y/n pulled a notebook from their mini backpack and flipped to a page that had a neat, color-coded timeline of events. Dave smiled at this before saying, “I would like to look at your notes, but I have some questions of another nature to ask first.”
y/n looked confused about what Rossi had said, and he clarified stating, “I’d just like to know if Aaron said anything to you while you were with him?” y/n let out a breath realizing this was a more personal visit. This was to see how his coworker was, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. y/n felt bad for not having thought of that before now and swallowed, realizing this was going to be another layer they would need to unpack within themselves as well. After this thought had passed, y/n replied softly at first, “We did kind of talk, though I did most of it to keep my mind still.” Rossi nodded encouraging y/n to continue, which they did. “I did ask him where he was going and he said that he was going to see his wife. And that he was sorry for his son. He tried to say more after that but it was all sort of jumbled up.” y/n looked up, fresh emotions welling up in them at the remorse that Mr. Hotchner had shown while he lay dying. There was a glimmer of tears in Dave’s eyes too and y/n moved a hand to his comfortingly and asked. “Agent Rossi?” to check in on him. Dave sniffled and moved a handkerchief under his eyes before squeezing y/n’s hand back replying, “Please, just call me Dave. Aaron’s wife passed a little over a year ago. I, I guess I didn’t know what he would think about, but it would make sense.”
Hearing Dave’s words, a pang of hurt shot through y/n. Suddenly Aaron’s words made more sense. He said he was going home and being sad about it. Jack’s name popped into their mind and y/n asked hopefully, “His son, Jack. He said he had a son. Is he okay? Is Jack with his mom?” Dave closed his eyes and replied reassuringly, “No. Jack is fine. He’s a sweet and hyper kid.” That thought, of Aaron’s son being there for him, made y/n feel better. It was strange for them, to have such intense and strong feelings for a man they hardly knew, but then again, they had been through a lot together. There were a few more minutes of silence as Dave processed and moved on by asking to look at y/n’s notebook and to ask questions for them. Looking at y/n’s notes and the very detailed recount they had written was precise and smart. Not perhaps like a profiler, but somewhat so. That conversation lasted about a half hour and Rossi could see that y/n was tired and he still needed to broach the topic of them seeing Aaron, so to take something off of their plate he began by saying, “y/n this has been very helpful for me, both as Aaron’s coworker and as his friend. I know you’ll need your own time to process and work through all of this but I might need to contact you again by myself or a member of my team. Would it be okay if I left you my number and I got yours?” y/f felt a hitch in their breath thinking that this might be over. All the adrenaline came to a big crash like a wave on the rocks. But it had to end sometime, at least they thought so, so they nodded yes. The pair traded numbers and then Dave said, “y/n, I know this has been a lot, but I was just with Aaron and he asked if he could speak with you if you’re up to it. If not, he’ll fully understand.”
At the suggestion, y/n’s eyes shot up in surprise. Not that they hadn’t been thinking about the man twenty-four-seven since they’d first seen him in the woods, but the idea that he would even want to see them felt like a surprise. Curiosity suddenly turned into apprehension and for a second they thought about running out of the room for some wild reason. But y/n came back to earth and knew that perhaps this would be their only time to see the man they’d helped and it would hopefully make things feel more resolved, more final. And they’d have the peace of mind of knowing that he really was alright. So y/n nodded yes and Dave gave them one of his reassuring dad smiles and got up, leading y/n toward Aroon’s room. He flashed his badge when he came across anyone looking at him funnily. At the door to Hotch’s room, Dave knocked and opened the door slightly saying, “I’ve got a visitor for you, Aaron.” There was a muffled response from inside and then Rossi stood back and said, “I’ll be just outside when you’re finished.” y/n swallowed thickly and stepped into the room.
The space was large enough for a chair or two by the hospital bed, surrounded by medical equipment that beeped on a cycle of minutes, keeping time. The lights had been dimmed and as y/n’s eyes adjusted, they took a small step closer toward the bed. Mr. Hotchner was all cleaned up from his blood-soaked state and now that he was visible, y/n couldn't help but notice how striking and attractive he was. y/n pushed that thought aside, it wasn’t the time. His dark eyes met theirs, and y/n said awkwardly, “Hello Mr., I mean Agent Hotchner, Sir.” Hotch let out a half laugh and said replied, “It’s alright, you can call me Mr. Hotchner, or just Aaron is okay.” y/n nodded listening to his deep voice. Different than how it had been in the woods. There was life in this version of him, and it made y/n feel better. y/n took another step forward, not sure what to expect.
Aaron watched y/n move forward. They were young. Younger than a normal person should have to deal with such stress and anxiety. He could see their apprehension even as they stepped close to him. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, y/n.” y/n did as he said feeling the authority in his presence even as he was in bed recovering. Of course, he wasn’t directing that toward them, just that that power was there in him. It didn’t surprise y/n that he was someone important in the FBI. y/n sat in the chair closest to Aaron so they could hear him better. y/n wasn’t sure how to act now. They wanted to say they were sorry about his wife. But that was too personal. y/n opted for just asking, “Are you feeling okay?” The words sounded hollow in the face of the pain he had experienced in his life.
Hotch smiled slightly, seeing the struggle in y/n’s eyes. He was glad to see y/n. To really see them and know who they were given how they had kept him calm and feel safe a day ago. Once y/n was seated he replied, “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to take time. I wanted to see how you are doing actually.” y/n’s eyes widened slightly. Shone in the darkness of the room. Taken aback they said, “I’m… okay. I always end up being okay in the end.” Hotch nodded, seeing himself in y/n instantly. Another survivor of a difficult life. It was easy to compartmentalize, and he didn’t want that for them. Not this young. So he said again, “I hear you. But how are you, really feeling?” y/n took a deep breath and tried to suppress the emotions before saying in a shaky voice, “Tired, scared and I don’t know why.” Aaron nodded in understanding. He moved his hand toward y/n, not sure what his intentions were with that movement. Hotch replied, “You don’t have to think about it all right now. But don’t let it out with someone at some point it will eat you up. Do you think you can take this?”
y/n knew that Aaron was asking about just life in general. How overwhelming it could be after something like this. They had dealt with these feelings before, not like this, but close enough for y/n to say, “Yes. I can bounce back.” Hotch knew that response too. The bounce back. He didn’t want to pressure y/n to seek help, he’d be a hypocrite for saying so, but he worried. This person had saved his life and he didn’t want to see them crumble for it. Hotch took a moment and said, “Thank you for being there for me. I wouldn’t have made it without you.” Not really thinking he added, “You made me feel safe in that moment. I didn’t know if I was going to feel that again.” There was a long silence after his statement as they both absorbed his words. The quiet was punctuated by y/n’s quiet response of, “You’re welcome. I’m happy I could be that for you, Aaron.” y/n looked over at Hotch and could see there was something there. A bond, a name whisper on the wind, or a star. It was a flicker for just a moment and it was gone, but they had both felt it, some of the overwhelming feelings they both housed within.
In another moment Aaron said, “I’ll let you go, but I’m sure Dave has given you his number, but tell him to give mine as well. I may not be at my best right now, but if you ever need anything y/n, anything, you can give me a call.” y/n nodded and stood wondering if the last they’d ever see of Aaron Hotchner, and was at least grateful for having crossed paths with him. They brushed their hands over his hand for a moment before smiling, saying “I hope you are well soon, Aaron,” leaving the room. Aaron watched as their figure moved outside and stopped to talk to Dave for a moment then disappeared.
Rossi entered the room and asked, “Do you feel better now?” Hotch nodded and replied, “Yes. Did you give them my number?” Dave laughed and said, “Sure did, office and cell.” Aaron huffed but then said seriously, “y/n will need protection for a few weeks at least.” Rossi replied, “Already on it. Or Garcia is on it. Knowing her, y/n will be getting flowers and chocolate for life.” Hotch laughed at the truth in that statement and felt better. Yes is sucked, this sucked, and his body hurt like hell, but he was alive and things would get better. Aaron’s mind flickered back to his fight with Sean and he laid back on the bed with a groan. Dave watched and eventually, Hotch said with his eyes still closed, “Would you call Sean for me?” Rossi had Sean’s number in case of emergencies with Aaron, Jack, or Jessica. Rossi had everybody in the team's close family on that list. Dave couldn’t help but say, “Why do I have to call him, if you do will he throw his phone out the window or something?” Hotch scoffed and replied, “Just about, but I need to talk to him.” Rossi understood and took out his phone and dialed Aaron’s younger brother before handing the line over to Aaron.
Aaron had something planned to say, but Sean beat him to it saying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. You don’t deserve it.” Hotch let out a breath and replied as lightly as possible, “You bet I didn’t. But I want to apologize too. I got hot-headed…” Rossi motioned for Aaron to ask if he wanted him to leave the room or not. Aaron nodded his head no, and Dave settled in his chair. As Sean and Aaron spoke, and attempted in their own ways to make amends, Aaron knew that things would get better. There was family, be it Jack, Sean, or the team, and there were people out there willing to help. The image y/n smiling down at him filled him with a strange warmth, and he let the image and feeling linger as Sean went on about his day.
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#aaron x y/n#aaron x reader#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotcher#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x y/n#criminal minds#fanfiction#cm#reader insert#comfort#criminal minds x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#levi writes#emily prentiss#hurt!hotch#hurt/comfort#hotch angst#david rossi#penelope garcia#aaron x gender neutral reader#hotch x gender neutral reader#hotch comfort#independant reader#outdoorsy reader#please read the warnings#long fic
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I didn't know who to say this too but i was about to explode thinking about this and you are one of the few people in hsr fandom that i trust to understand ratio so my apologies to be dumping this on you all of a sudden but... I think Ratio's technique is so interesting in a way and speaks more about him than people give it credit for. Like...creating a fake version of himself that aggros the enemy is already very meta of how hsr fandom tends to see him, esp with the number of people that started hating him after that "betrayal" scene in 2.1 xD And it makes me wonder about his voiceline where he says something like "im fine with showing my true self if it helps me teach students/cures patients but i find that doing so is counterproductive most of the time"...wdym "true self" sir...and why are your character details completely devoid of any details from your own pov...and why do you get so evasive when anyone tries to ask about your past (going by that one interview when someone asked him what he was like as a child and he's just like "what a silly question, i was a normal boy")...it seems to me the princess is hiding something...
Thank you for your ask OP! It's really interesting to think about your question, and I'm humbled by your trust! I hope whatever I cook can satisfy you in some way. It's going to be a bit long!!
Let's start by saying I do operate under the belief that we know a lot about Dr Ratio and at the same time we only know what he wants us to know, which I find incredibly interesting to his character.
It can go many different ways. A lot of people use this mysteriousness to hint at the following:
1. something sinister (I am not necessarily saying you are doing this)
2. suggesting that he is more than who he is, like he may be more than who he presents to be (may or may not be evil in alignment but just more)
3. he really just thinks divulging further personal information about him is pointless and he values his privacy as an individual rather than a prominent figure
Let me now unpack the most wrongest [sic] take, number 1, which I find to be antithetical to his character, because Dr Ratio has always been aligned with doing good. He isn't your typical good person, but he is morally pushing for good (eradication of ignorance, people finding and reaching their potential etc), and he rather he reminds me of a very stern but nonetheless kind educator who genuinely demands good be brought into the world through one's aptitude and ability (just like himself) and not relying on others to solve problems for you
Number 2 is a little tricky, since we cannot really confirm nor deny that Ratio is no longer truly following Nous after he realizes he will never be acknowledged, he may be aligned to another Aeon or none entirely!
I personally dislike the Mythus/Fictionologist take, because again it is antithetical to who he is as a character. Fictionologists will rewrite history and twists facts in order to create the possibility of uncovering more, but this is akin to something called accelerationism, which is in plain words to incite chaos (bad) in the slim chances that from the chaos a great good might emerge/ be produced/discovered etc, a practice and ideology I feel Dr Ratio as he is characterized now would be extremely against.
Now I do subscribe to the fact that Dr Ratio may not be following an Aeon at all or we aren't privy to who they are yet, but this is a possibility that there is a facet to Dr Ratio we have not seen yet and will down the line so...
Number 3 is where I am at now, I really, genuinely think Dr Ratio just thinks of himself as some guy who was gifted with the equivalent of 8 genius brains but it isn't anything exceptional. From how he acts, he feels like some guy who had a rather normal childhood (if not really lonely, which I talk about in my twitter thread here) and grew up to be exceptional except in all the ways he wanted/was taught to want/thought he might want.
So I operate on several headcanons about Ratio just genuinely being so smart in a planet that is presumably the remnants of the civilization in the Laurel Wreath Galaxy where a Philosopher King/Philosopher Union was mentioned. This headcanon is heavily colored by this excellent theory a fellow fan made and I have to admit I can scarcely distinguish between mine and theirs while I turn him around in my brain so do give them/their thread a read too when you can, but I do also subscribe to how Ratio must have been exceptional in a civilization that prizes scholarship and enlightenment.
Knowing this, I presume he grew up with a lot of expectations placed upon him, particularly that of gaining the gaze or glance of Nous and ascending as a genius society member or more! That is a lot to place on an individual, especially someone like Ratio who is very much hinted to have grown up very fast due to his vast knowledge and while it's a stretch to say he was forced into growing up fast, because he def wasn't, he was nevertheless seemingly not really given much opportunities to be a child, as the push for him to start university very early could suggest that his aptitude and potential were so valued that it overridden any other needs he may have. If we wanted to ask about his childhood, he would have very dull things to say too, so to speak. I imagine it wasn't eventful at all, but filled with just studies.
Where am I going with this about his statues? They are called Mold of Idolatry! Idolatry meaning the extreme adoration or love of someone. That Dr Ratio makes the statues of himself never seems like the narcissistic sort, that would imply he holds himself in an extremely high regard to the detriment of others, but Dr Ratio isn't narcissistic, he would be a vastly different character if he was. The key to narcissism is that there is a great need, to the point of detriment, for admiration.
Now, look over to how Dr Ratio presents himself to us in his 1.6 quests. He wears his plaster head as not to be recognized by others, to remain incognito if you will, and is content to sit at the sidelines nudging things along in the background rather than swoop in and take the credit as the hero when Duke Inferno was trying to wreak havoc on the Space Station. His heroic deeds are never realized by the people he saved from being spaced, that is not an action of a narcissistic man who would gloat about saving other people. No, he sees his job is done and he walks away without fanfare, without even so much as seeking a thank you from the people he saved. That's one of the clearest and most well-thought of character introductions/demonstrations in the game and a solid proof that he isn't a narcissist (again self-centeredness is different!)
With that in mind, what does the statue imply?
Dr Ratio operates by redirecting attention not to himself so he can freely move in the background. That it looks like him in funny poses speaks to a silliness I feel he never really gets a chance to let loose too often, so his "art" is his outlet. That it directs enemies to attack that instead of him, I can't help but feel like there's a sense of "look at this 'image of me' others have built up, pour your love/expectations/wants/aspirations (and the extreme opposite of that maybe?) to that likeness of me instead, and let me be free from that to be who I could be without all of that baggage"
tl;dr -- it's not that deep but it is?? I feel like Ratio just wants to be left alone to do his thing and that's what the Mold of Idolatry represents.
I hope that satisfies you, anon! Thank you for your question, since I do have more insights to Dr Ratio now. I think I'll also find a way to condense this into a Twitter thread sometime.
#honkai star rail#dr ratio#dr ratio analysis#asks#thank you anon <3#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio hsr#dr ratio honkai star rail
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hi zak, my luke plush got a bit dirty and dusty.... do you happen to have a guide on how to wash (and care) for your luke plush properly?? thanks ueuueue ;;-;;
hi hi chika!!! i see youve finally gotten to the quintessential luke plush owner milestone of having to give your boy his First Bath!!!
i wouldnt say i know the textbook Proper way to wash luke plushie, because when i got my luke plushie i lost the official hyv tag he came with so i never got to read the wash/care instructions (if there were any) BUT i can tell you how ive been washing my luke plushie because it seems to have worked so far!!
without further ado
step 1: pre-wash
youre first gonna wanna remove his clothes, luke plush is a lot easier to wash when hes naked, and it's also easier to wash the clothes fully when theyre off of his body
(pictured: the plushie family and clothes, separated)
i'd also suggest using a lint roller at this stage to get some of the surface dirt off, just so washing him is easier once hes in the water
once hes naked and lint-rolled, its off to the bath!!
step 2: bath time
we're going to be hand washing him, not machine washing because machine washing a plushie is scary to me. theyre all alone in there.....
anyhoo, fill a basin with cold water and drown your luke plushie in there. make sure there's enough water to fully submerge your boy.
once hes all wet, add gentle detergent, the gentlest you have
both the water temp and detergent kind is to prevent any color fading. very much avoid any harsh chemicals like bleach and whatnot.
this is not part of the washing process but now is the perfect time to pause and take a picture because luke plushie will look like hes in a bathtub
(pictured: bubble bath time for luke plushie)
anyhoo, once youre done taking a pic, gently GENTLYYYYY scrub at any portions that have dirt or grime on them. gently GENTLLLYYY rub everywhere else that doesnt have any visible dirt.
repeat with the clothes, and take extra care because ive found that his clothes are very fragile.
dunk luke plushie's head under the water and gently GENTLYYY squeeze, so his stuffings and braincells also get washed.
do this for a few minutes until youre satisfied or until the visible dirt has been removed
once done, set luke plushie and clothes aside, dump the sudsy water out, and fill the basin again with clean cold water. dunk luke plushie and clothes in the cold water to rinse them off, swishing luke plushie and clothes around under the water.
after some swishing, you can run luke plushie and his clothes under a running faucet or hose to further rinse him out.
keep rinsing until the water no longer comes out with sudsy bubbles. you may have to squeeze his head GENTLY GENTLYYYY a few times in between this process to get all the suds out of his cranium, so just be patient
once the water is no longer sudsy, it's time to dry him!!
step 3: drying
since the clothes are thin, you can hang those up right away to air dry. for luke plushie, however, his head is huge and currently filled with water which makes him very heavy at first.
to get some of that water out, place him on a towel, fold the towel over him, and press down on his head gently or roll him around in the towel. do this a few times to get as much of the water in his head Out so he isnt so heavy when you hang him
once his skull has been drained of most of the water, hang luke plushie on a hanger by his legs, since it's easiest for clothespins to clip onto that
(pictured: just hanging out)
if luke plushie's head is still too heavy from the water to be hung from his legs, another alternative is tying a ribbon around his neck and hanging him from the ribbon instead. i just dont do this myself because it VERY MUCH EMOTIONALLY DISTRESSES ME to see him choking like that, but objectively it's a good workaround
IMPORTANT NOTE: if youre air drying them outside, place them away from direct sunlight. this is, once again, to prevent color fading.
i find that leaving them to hang out for one full day is enough to dry him completely!!
and thats it!! once everything is dry, you can clothe luke plushie once more and he'll be all clean and fresh
oh one last note. if your luke plushie had slight blushies on his cheeks (like it was sprayed on), you might notice that thats faded a bit after the first wash. this is normal and unavoidable (at least in my experience), but you can add his blushies back with makeup, if you have any
also, i'd highly suggest getting a lint roller for when luke plush gets dusty but isnt dirty enough to warrant a full bath!! just gently give him a bunch of rolls like so to keep him dust free :D
i hope this helps!!! i wish you the best on your luke plush washing adventures!!
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Thinking about curly haired Prince!Leehan who’d be the most charming prince ever ever ever.
It was the night of the annual Winter Solstice ball. Unbeknownst to you, Leehan had kept his eye on you the moment you stepped through his castle gates. He’s so intrigued by you. Definitely did not watch you the entire time you were in the ballroom dancing ;). After sweating buckets you decided to go out to the gardens for some fresh air and quiet. Leehan followed you all the way through the rose garden maze (funnily enough, his favourite spot. he thought it was Fate that it was the first place you went to. he’s too romantic for his own good. Or just delusional?). He stayed back for a bit to give you space, and when he felt enough time had passed he slowly inched towards you and cleared his throat.
“Hi there” he said softly.
You turned to find the Most Beautiful Man you’d ever seen standing expectantly before you. You’d seen him before, of course, but only in pictures or from far away. He was even more heart-wrenchingly attractive up-close and in real life. You immediately got shy and started sweating and wondered if you should just run away. Something made you stay, though. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you with his head slightly tilted to the side; through half-lidded, soft eyes with a coy smile plastered on his face. A million questions for you in his look.
As you weren’t saying anything, he decided to fill the silence.
“I’ve been watching you all night, you know”. He walked closer to you, ever so slowly, never breaking eye contact. It felt like he had set you on fire and was taking lots of pleasure in watching you burn.
“Have you?” you managed to stammer out.
Leehan just chuckled. A deep, warm sound. “Yes, I have. And I was curious to know if you’d like to dance with me. You’re a very good dancer.”
“You followed me out here just to ask me to dance? A bit late for that, don’t you think?” You side-eyed him slightly, while silently thanking your confusion for giving you the courage to speak.
He scoffs playfully, smiling widely. “I suppose it is, yes. But I want to dance with you. And we don’t have to go back inside. There’s plenty of space out here.”
You blink a few times, trying to figure out how the prince is talking to you, out of all the dozens of people here. Between him just being here, telling you that he’s been watching you all night, and now asking you to dance, you feel dizzy and a bit sick.
“Are you all right?” he asks, a look of concern on his features now.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Um, yes.” You wait a heartbeat. “l’ll dance with you.” you tell him, getting quieter at the end of your sentence, avoiding eye contact with him.
At this point, Leehan is towering right over you.
“Good. Since I am the prince and it’s quite literally my job to be chivalrous and graceful, let me ask you properly.”
He straightens his back and squares his shoulders. You’re still not meeting his eye, so he tilts his head, leans over slightly, and searches for your gaze. Once he’s got it, he clears his throat.
“My lady, will you please be so kind and let me have this dance?”
You can’t help but giggle a bit, which makes him break into a huge dopey smile, dimples and all, and start giggling with you.
After catching your breath you say, “Yes, Leehan, you may have this dance.” Something about hearing you say his name made him go weak in the knees a bit. You see the effect in how his eyes softened. Your heart skips a beat.
He goes to take you to the very middle of the maze center, where the moonlight shines the brightest, but not before taking your right hand in his and kissing the inside of your wrist.
You two dance for what seems like forever, surrounded by blooming roses, while the stars twinkle above.
#it’s 12am the leehan brainrot is !!!! a lot#if there’s grammar or spelling mistakes no there is not and if it’s cringy it’s also not#OMGGG shoutout the author of that one little blurb of where bonedo would like to kiss you#i forgot their user im so sorry 😭 if you see this that post was brilliant <33 leehan is such an inside wrist kisser#dividers by fairytopea <3#vivi’s library ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#bonedo! ᡣ𐭩⋆.˚#leehan 🐠 ♡#boynextdoor#boynextdoor x reader#bonedo x reader#bnd x reader#boynextdoor blurb#kim leehan#leehan#kim leehan x reader#leehan x reader#kim donghyun#kim donghyun x reader#donghyun x reader#leehan blurb#leehan fluff
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Okay, headcannon for how Shadowpeaches met:
After Wukong git back from training with Subhodi he found that his monkeys had been kidnapped by the Demon King of Havoc, so naturally he goes and rescues them. Except.... there was an extra?
Macaque, who had run away from home after feeling smothered by Chang'e (who may or may not have been chanelling her grief over her husband into how she was raising her baby monkey bro) ran away from home to show her he could take care of himself!.... and was captured by a demon king. But he was FINE, he totally could have escaped on his own and didn't NEED to get rescued, thank you very much! But... he doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go so could he stay on the mountain please? Just for a bit, he'll totally leave soon after he gets his feet back under him.
Wukong, meanwhile, thinks this new guy is really pretty in need of his help, so lets him stay and offers to train with him (which has NOTHING to do with wanting to show off his new magic powers or spend time with the new guy, obviously).
And the rest is dubiously cannon history.
ooo this is a cool idea.
Chang'e I feel was a little over-protective of MIhou when he was a baby because he was one of her few companions on the Moon. Chang'e had dreamed of having children with Hou Yi, so she did her best to spoil her little moonstone. Ultimately she could only raise him as just one Celestial castaway, not as a troupe of monkey demons as he should be. So when Mihou came to her one day saying that he heard the sounds of "people that were like him!" on winds from Flower Fruit Mountain; she knew that MIhou would be happier learning from a troupe on Earth. Plus not a lot of babysitting or teaching opportunities up there on the Moon.
I doubt Mihou would have left without hugging his big sis goodbye, but he would have left without telling her. He runs up to her, gives her a quick hug, and by jumping on a magic wind (or magic wind bag "borrowed" from a god); he propels himself towards Earth to finally meet others of his kind. Chang'e cries obviously. But she knows it's for the best.
Sadly, although the monkeys on FFM did resemble Mihou superficially, they were cautious around him. And even a little scared of him. And none had ears like his.
Then as Mihou finds himself moping alone, a flash of orange fur crashes into him. The orange thing hoots excitedly and playfully nips Mihou's fur.
Think the scene where Bambi met Flower;
Shihou, pointing to the new monkey's ears: "Flower!"
Mihou: "Me???"
Thats how Shihou and Mihou meet for the first time - for the first time.
Mihou managed to get to know the Elder Storyteller before he sadly passed. But he and Shihou didn't really get a chance to know each other better before the orange monkey left to study with the humans. Mihou had been sad obviously, as he felt like even on the island that he was Other than the rest of the monkeys. With Shihou he didn't feel that way so much.
With both the Elder dead, and the closest thing to a leader being an absent monkey cub - the cruel Demon King of Havoc muscled in and declared himself the King of Flower Fruit Mountain. The monkey troupe disagreed and what amounts to a miniature civil war breaks out across the archipelago.
MIhou is caught up in the drama of the Demon King's regime. His appearance making him a rare oddity that the King of Havoc decides to keep around as an ornament. As long as MIhou kept his head down, looked pretty, and told the King stories, he and the other captured monkeys would be safe from harm.
Suddenly one day; the walls of the Havoc's throne room burst open, revealing a slightly older orange-furred monkey cub. He seemed to levitate on thin air as he wielded an iron pole, demanding the return of his people.
The Demon King of Havoc scoffed and ordered the floating monkey to do his worst. Within seconds the Demon King of Havoc was no more.
As the returned monkey counted those missing from the troupe amongst the Demon King's staff, his eyes fell upon the striking moon-white fur and lotus-petal-shaped ears of the court jester.
Sun Wukong: "Flower?"
Macaque, amazed that Shihou remembered him: "Me."
The connection is instant. Wukong stumbles over his words as he reintroduces Mihou (now nicknamed "Macaque") to the troupe, and to the Demons he'd befriended in proving himself as the King of Flower Fruit Mountain.
Macaque is confused. Shihou wanted him to stay?
"Of course!" the orange monkey smiled, as if it were obvious. "You are a member of this troupe no matter what! The others told me of how you'd protect and comfort them while you were all captured by the King of Havoc. I'd be honoured to have you stay."
And thats how Macaque found himself the new Storyteller of the troupe. And how a certain romance blossomed between two stone monkeys.
I hope you enjoyed this <3
#sun wukong#six eared macaque#liu er mihou#shadowpeach#lmk aus#jttw aus#lmk#lego monkie kid#journey to the west#jttw
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no but like you're so right
walton says that cooper thinks of barb as "the devil incarnate" in that interview and she may as well have sold her soul the second she made that proposition
and like you said, it's so tragic... in ep8 when he demanded hank for the location of his family, you just sorta already know he's only trying to get janey back and in the mean time, mess up the corporate scum that sent the world (his world) to hell - barb being one of them
what kind of love is there when it meant subjecting the human race to nuclear warfare, all for the sake of profit and the idea of becoming "new rulers" of the surface? his love was shattered into bits, left him a broken and bitter man because of a wife who severed that trust
not to mention, the awful betrayal that resulted from this that forced cooper (as the ghoul) to do stuff he wouldn't have done if things were simply different ughjdsjs 😵💫 i just think it's neat writing... lots of tots bc i feel he sees so much of that hurt in lucy too which sets up for thick character potential in s2
anyways sorry this got long ily thank u for hearing me out
1000%!!!
i remember there was a walton interview going around too where he sees lucy's naivety and wants to poke at her because of it. with all of their similarities and parallels, she's a reminder of who he used to be at the beginning of this all - the soft, squishy parts of himself he's had to kill (or hide) in order to survive the wasteland.
the golden rule seems to be something he lived by pretty strictly pre-war, and lucy is unfettered by all the horrors surface dwellers face. she is very much a living timecapsle of a universe that no longer exists and very few people remain who remember it (cooper being one).
there's this moment - i cant remember which episode but i noticed it during my first watch and it hurts just as much every time i re-watch - but it's when cooper is doing the vault tec ads for the first time, and puts on the suit.
after greeting the exes he pauses to ask if the suit really blocks radiation like they say it does - the exes look at barb who narrows her eyes and gives a little nod, GIVES THEM THE GO AHEAD TO LIE RIGHT TO HER HUSBANDS FACE BC SHE KNOWS IF HE KNEW THE TRUTH OR IF THERE WAS ANY DOUBT TO THEIR VALIDITY, HE WOULDN'T BE DOWN TO ADVERTISE!
And that just gut punches me every time bc Cooper has such a strong moral code, and its taken advantage of so often and so easily by so many people (including the ones that are closest to him).
And we see that in Lucy.
She always wants to do the right thing, wants to abide by the idea that everyone is inherently good and just. That no one has ulterior motives and people can be taken at face value.
JUST AIGHDJHKLSGFUYS IDK WHERE IM GOING BUT YESS!!! I have soo many thoughts about so many of the characters lmao. I'm so excited to see what they do with season 2.
ALSO I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE❤️!!!
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TEENAGE GOJO x GN!READER
CONTEXT: It's your first time coming to Jujutsu High after the tragic incident that had happened with your family being completely murdered by a curse. You had nothing left to live for until you were found, and brought into Jujutsu High. Your mind is going crazy, too scared to who you might meet. Will they like you? Will they hate you? But oh? Who is that over there?
BEFORE YOU READ: There may be small grammar mistakes or typos, so please bare with me!
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆.
. ˚ ✭ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✭ . . ˚ . ✦
"You will be fine. This will be a great opportunity for you to grow. Trust me.". You look at Masamichi, still conflicted. You were strong, but you were pretty sensitive. A broken arm? That's nothing. Bleeding out? Pfft, please. Being put down by others? God. You felt so weak.
"I'm not..sure. Do you really think i'll be okay? What if they don't like me and what if-". You start to say every word going through your head without being able to control what's even coming from your mouth, until Masamichi cuts you off.
"Y/n. Listen. Everyone here is great. They're all strong and will accept you no matter what. You're a kind person, if anyone thinks otherwise they need to get their eyes checked. You haven't even met them yet, how could you assume anything about them?". Masamichi was right. You always assumed that everyone thought the worse out of you without even actually knowing them.
"Y-you're right. I apologize.". You look down in embarrassment as Masamichi starts to walk towards the classroom where the students were waiting to meet you as you followed behind him. 'Y/n you got this' you said to yourself in your mind.
As Masamichi opened the door and you walked along side him, you felt eyes fall on you. You didn't even look up to see them yet, but you felt the tension of being watched by multiple eyes.
"Everyone, this is F/n L/n. They are a grade 1 sorcerer. Please welcome them with open arms.”. You look up to see a girl your age. She had short brown hair with a mole under her right eye. She seemed so cool.
“H-Hello! My name is F/n L/n. It’s great to meet you all. I’m hoping we all get along and I’m hoping to learn lots from you!”. You bow down and get back up, waiting for Masamichi to say anything else, but he doesn’t.
“Hey, I’m Shoko Leiri.”. She said as she smiled to you, you smiled back her.
“Suguru Geto.”. Geto was very handsome. He seemed like a very reliable person.
You look over next to Geto and see a beautiful white haired boy. He had gorgeous blue eyes, very long legs. He was staring at you, almost looking as if he was mesmerized by you.
“The names Satoru Gojo!”. He sounded like a cheerful guy. Not only was he extremely handsome, he seemed outgoing too.
“I don’t recommend going near Satoru, he’s a lot to handle.”. Shoko said and you giggled at her words. Gojo looked annoyed crossing his arms and looking the other way.
“You always say that, Shoko! I’m not THAT bad.”
After your encounter with everyone in your grade, you were led to your room. Masamichi said his farewell and walked away. You get settled into your room. As soon as you finish, you hear a knock at your door. You assumed it was Masamichi coming back to remind you about anything he forgot to tell you, so you open the door quickly seeing a very tall figure at your door.
“O-Oh! Hello! Gojo was it?”. You say nervously not expecting him to be at your door. He was so tall. You were at shock that someone can even be his height.
“Hey, yeah. I-I was just wondering how you were doing settling in, you know… You need help with anything?”. A faint smile appearing on his face looking into your eyes. You were distracted from how blue his eyes were looking at you. You didn’t know what to say, but you quickly snapped back into reality.
“Oh! How kind of you. I’m doing alright. Erm.. no I don’t need any help. Thank you, though! I’ll be sure to come to you if needed!”. You say to him, giving him a huge smile. He felt his heart stop for a second. You were so beautiful just standing there looking at him. You looked like a happy puppy, he was in awe.
“O-Oh i see! Well, see you around! I’ll be outside with Suguru & Shoko training a bit. Feel free to drop by anytime if you..need help training or..anything like that..”. Gojo said as he was walking backwards away from your room, almost tripping. You wave as he walked away smiling to him. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all..
----------------------------------------------------------------------
This will be a new series of TeenageGojo x Reader ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
I hope you enjoyed! Please send any requests you may have for my next TeenageGojo x Reader !!
#anime#gojo satoru#gojo saturo#gojo x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#geto suguru#jujutsu geto#jjk geto#jjk shoko#shoko ieiri#jujutsu kaisen shoko#jujustu kaisen
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Played Indigo Park chapter 1 last night. It was a pleasant little experience, got some thoughts about it
-So, first off. It's very clear all the designs here were done by a furry. Which I'll admit gives some extra points in my book. I am not immune to the Glamrock Lion Lloyd. Though the models themselves were kind of lacking. It's clear that this is the dev's first game, which he admits to, so I'm willing to give it a pass in exchange for the vision he's going for.
-This is Pure Uncut Mascot Horror. Chapter-based release system, heavy focus on the central characters/monsters, an innocent place is now abandoned and full of said monsters, already there's merch of these guys despite it being released ten days ago. Which can be fine, but considering that the creator said that "his ambition for the game's scope will grow in response to attention Indigo Park gets" can be a rocky road, as that's what Bendy went through (and it wasn't really that fun for me).
-I also don't know if it was intentional or not but. Thank you for clearly telegraphing the scares in advance? And not having sudden SCREAM IN YOUR FACE type jumpscares. As someone who struggles with those, they can be Not Fun
-Rambley is clearly the main attraction for this whole ride, and I'll admit he's got some charm. The game makes a clear effort to show that he is a sentient A.I., one that can make mistakes but is nonetheless genuine (mixes up directions, drives away during Lloyd's segment, "COME ON IN NEW STAFF!"), and also very much lonely. From what little we get of him in chapter one, he has a clear character and planned character development route and that's something people can latch onto in terms of engagement and story, which is something a LOT more games like this need to do
-That being said, I hope he *stays* an A.I. From FNAF to Bendy to Poppy, there almost seems to be this like, underlying desire to do a twist where "they were actually real people the whole time!" And again, that CAN work. But I feel there's unmarked territory for exploring sentient and existential A.I. stories. That one scene of Glam Freddy getting existential in the Endoskeleton room is still circulating in my brain and all my friends KNOW my thoughts about Security Breach.
-Considering that Molly fucking Gets Beheaded And Bleeds in the Act 1 finale it's very likely there's some sinister stuff going on in the park, perhaps pulling a Bendy and making Real Life Characters. That's fine. It can work. But if they're showing that Rambley and his struggles with isolation/loneliness is the main focus, then I hope they deliver. This game doesn't need a climactic "good vs evil" ending with whatever's going on with Salem. As long as they suitably explore Rambley as a character, that will be fine in my book
-Just. Please. No more momentum-based stuff with the trampolines. I was stuck in that chase scene for like eight minutes because I couldn't figure those out. Take away the jump button if you must, that did functionally nothing except mess me up.
So yeah. 7/10, decent experience and good potential. Here's hoping it delivers on that
#indigo park#rambley the raccoon#indigo park rambley#indigo park lloyd#indigo park salem#indigo park mollie#indigo park spoilers#twi talks#spoilers
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Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !
Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)
I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!
someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)
uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 4 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 4 spoilers#mel is so cute but mal fits with the rest of the draconias better#eng version no you were supposed to save me not make things MORE confusing#anyway raverne huh#that uh. that sure feels like it's supposed to evoke raven doesn't it.#what does it mean WHAT DOES IT MEAN#hold on i'm going to flail around embarrassingly about anime character theories now#(okay first a disclaimer: i do think we need to sit down as a fandom at some point)#(and have a discussion about exactly what is actual canon versus meta speculation versus jokes)#(because i think there has been. some confusion. over that re:crowley and raverne specifically)#(but i do feel justified in being like THEY ARE PROBABLY CONNECTED SOMEHOW RIGHT?! right now)#like i really don't think it's as simple as crowley being raverne but with memory loss or something#(and if they pull that on us i'm going to need an EXTREMELY good explanation to go with it to justify that)#they've gone out of their way several times now to make a point about them acting and sounding different and it feels very intentional to m#(and once again: i super 100% absolutely do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him with the top half of his face covered)#i just think the contradictions are a lot stronger than the connections right now but there ARE some connections and i'm 👀ing at them#to be fair the connections are mostly meta like crowley being diablo/raverne being evocative of raven#also the general 'raverne mysteriously disappeared and apparently had distinctive eyes' thing#versus 'crowley's past is unknown and he never shows his eyes'#(i will argue that crowley DOES seem to have some kind of canon connection to briar valley)#(since he is clearly some sort of fae and the masks are a briar valley thing)#and that is kinda it right now isn't it#okay hold on i had to delete some tags because i used too many (thanks tumblr for letting me know and not just vanishing them OH WAIT)#so tl;dr: i'm in the 'crowley is connected to raverne somehow but it's more complicated than just him being in disguise' camp personally#but that will probably change as we get more info and also don't take this as an anti-speculation thing because i love theories HOORAY
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Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??
Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try
#also love that he's basically atheist like ok thanks you made the man exactly coded to be my type#and the humor and beautiful curly hair is very much something my IRL partner has too so like... how can i resist#anyways not sure a lot of people relate cause i think a lot of people want that fairytale romance#even tho wyll is right there yall#but i love me an unconventional or nontraditional one!!#i'm TIRED of being married with children as the endgame pls let's not do it#also a lot of people seem into him being a dad and im like... how? why? where in canon did he ever lmfao#more power to ya if you dig it but i just dont see it being in character#like in DAI i loved cullen and my inquisitor getting married and having a dog#and they seem the type to wants kids one day. but Tav & Astarion? lol no#i just think it's neat#is this a hot take? i have no idea but i don't see it mentioned a lot as a new fan tbh#pls do not come at me you can enjoy whatever you like#i haven't seen the ascended stuff so idk if being his 'consort' is like being his bride#but i feel like overall it's not and the vibe isn't all that different in this sense#except that you're hosting evil parties instead of travelling :/#Astarion#bg3 spoilers#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 spoilers#bg3#also YEA he's nice to Arabella but you can tolerate certain kids without wanting one or being 'good parent' material#case in point: me lmfao#OKAY update i saw the AA stuff and yeah you're kind of implied vamp married and he does mention spawn as children 😫#but he also says in banter he won't make any other spawn??? so what is it dude#anyway that's also clearly the “bad” route and he doesn't seem as happy as unascended#who feels “truly free”#and if you're durge I'm pretty sure its even worse to consider having kids?? lol#but i digress
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