#he put a song that just made me want to try and draw this
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I'll Show You Heaven
Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader
Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.
Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair
Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Word Count: ~6.4k
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
Masterlist
It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him.
You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.
You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.
You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights.
He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind.
And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him.
You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.
"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"
You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?"
Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly.
He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again.
"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s.
"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.
"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?
Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice.
Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.
You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either.
Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped.
"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.
"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."
The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.
You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.
He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now.
"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.
You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him.
You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.
He hummed in response.
"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.
"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.
— — —
“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.
Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.
“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”
“Again,” Tech chimed in.
“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.”
“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked.
His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”
The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.
Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order.
“No promises.”
He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.
This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.
But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him.
The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave.
Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him.
He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth.
He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow.
He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.
He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs.
As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you.
This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.
He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.
But would it be so bad if you did?
— — —
Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked.
Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous.
He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago.
"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.
He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."
He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."
You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."
Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."
"Did the Reg apologize to you?"
"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.
"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.
"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."
He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."
Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.
"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?"
"Crosshair."
You smirked then told him yours.
"Where's the rest of your squad today?"
"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."
He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.
You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.
"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours."
You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.
Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.
You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both?
You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.
— — —
Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home.
It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.
You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you.
"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.
"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."
He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.
"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."
He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-"
Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.
You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.
He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."
He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."
"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.
"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.
"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."
He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."
"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."
"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.
"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”
He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.
“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.
He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.
“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.
He walked back over to you, “Of course.”
He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.
"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.
"You sure?"
You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.
He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.
He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.
"Make yourself at home." You told him.
He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you.
"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors.
You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.
"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."
He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."
"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"
"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."
You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.
"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.
"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs."
You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it."
His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.
"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.
"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”
His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline.
He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.
Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind.
Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.
His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.
His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.
"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere.
You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs.
You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.
He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.
"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."
His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."
"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."
"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la."
You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life.
When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.
He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you.
When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.
He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.
"Come here," you said, your voice low.
He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.
"Closer." You breathed.
He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.
"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.
"Yes, please, Crosshair."
He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.
You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left.
He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.
He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.
Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.
"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.
"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.
"G-good boy, keep... keep going."
His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.
His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.
"Say it again." He said against your centre.
"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.
"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.
"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.
He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.
You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.
You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.
"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want."
He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.
His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.
"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."
He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.
Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.
"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."
His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.
It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.
He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.
He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.
“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.
He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?”
“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”
His cock twitched against his jeans.
“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.
“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.”
Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain.
You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.
“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.
Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.
You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.
“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.
You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.”
You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”
Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air.
“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out.
“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.
You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.
He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch.
You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out.
“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.”
You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes.
You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.
His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.
“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..”
You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.
“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants.
You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips.
He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.
He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust.
“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.”
You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.
His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue.
“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.”
His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.
His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.
“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.”
He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.
You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.
“You gonna be good for me?”
He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.
“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.
Heaven.
That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you.
Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth.
You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down.
“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you.
He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in.
You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.
“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.
“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.”
You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him.
His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts.
“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.
His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.
“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.
“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”
You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.
“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts.
He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.
“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”
The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.
“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”
“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.”
His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.
“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.
He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.
Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you.
“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release.
You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.
“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.
“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.
“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.
“Please.”
He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.
“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.
“Hm?”
“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”
You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.”
He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.
“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.
“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”
You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.
#tbb crosshair#crosshair bad batch#the bad batch#the bad batch fanfiction#tbb fanfic#crosshair#bad batch crosshair#crosshair smut#crosshair x reader#crosshair fic#the bad batch fanfic#the bad batch x reader#crosshair x you#crosshair x reader smut#tbb crosshair x reader#the bad batch smut
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I miss my best boy and my best girl together 🥺🥺🥺.
#nemo sketches#dorothea starrick#Jacob Frye#assassin's creed syndicate#cool down sketch#WIP#blame the husband#he put a song that just made me want to try and draw this#but now i am a tad drained and i need to go to sleep#pray that i will manage to finish this without having a mental breakdown lololol#jk jk#moreorless
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a/n: cue me listening to the same secret time over and over to put me in the right mindframe for this bc I don’t have either of the cards for the AB set for this goddamn FISH – im still learning about him/specifically abysswalker raf as well bc I know nothing outside this audio so there are indeed going to be some growing pains uwu im still learning his voice but im in love w him <3
Wrapped in Moonlight
AO3 || Rafayel x Fem!Reader || Soft Smut, Mild Angst || 3, 503 Words
additional tags: accidental mask kink, fingering, vaginal sex, first time having sex [w/ e/o], first kiss [w/ e/o], rafayels acc so in love with you, i like the moon and havent ever had to write a lot of water motifs before
The dull thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears has never been louder, not until this moment here, with you.
Your eyes look up at him from where you lay on your bed, teeth lightly worrying over your lips as you take a deep breath, shaking your head as though to shake away the words that had his feet planted firmly on the ground. You’d taken to summoning him more often as of late and even if he could, he would never reject your requests. Rafayel knew that it was dangerous but he couldn’t think to care, beginning to crave being by your side in ways that drove him mad.
“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you. Please, just forget I even said anything,” you begin to plead, averting his gaze and retreating further into your lush sheets. Sheets he knows the feeling of, the barely there warmth that his fingertips longed to feel, his resolve cracking every time you sleepily ask him to stay until you fall asleep.
“Your Highness doesn’t think I’d really be able to forget such a request, does she?” he decides to say instead, wanting to lean into a slightly more playful side of his persona to cope with the swell of emotions crashing down into his chest.
You stay silent and he decides to take this opportunity to step closer. His gloved hand parts the beaded curtain, your breath catching in your chest as you see the way the candle’s light faintly illuminating his face. Rafayel’s eyes are intense, something you’ve always noticed when he looks at you. All thoughts begin to cease as soon as his eyes meet yours, leaning in closer to you.
“Did you really think that I’d forget that you asked me to kiss you?”
The words hang heavy between the two of you, an unnamed but not unnoticed tension sitting on your shoulders once again. It felt like the two of you were constantly doing some song and dance, skirting around the way you both felt about each other. He looks like he’s got something more to say, watching you intently before stepping away. The clicking of the curtains gives you something else to focus on as you try to still your erratic heartbeat, hearing him draw the curtains to your room open at the same time as him blowing out the candles.
He stands in your window for a moment, the moon’s light wrapping around him so intimately you can’t help but be jealous. You shift in your bed, unconsciously crawling towards him. The sound makes him turn to look at you, hues coloured with something you can’t quite understand. You think you’ll drown in the depths of them but you can’t be bothered to care. If it meant being able to touch him, even for just a moment then you’d be more than willing to suffer that consequence.
“Rafayel, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just didn’t think before I spoke.”
And you couldn’t, not when he looked at you like he wanted to devour you or whenever he’d touch you gently to reassure you of his presence.
Silence and tension continue to colour the air between the two of you and you have a fleeting thought that this might be the last time you ever see him. You couldn’t ever summon him again, not after leaving things like this. Rafayel can feel your eyes flitting over his figure, imagines that you’re committing his features to memory.
“It’s quite the opposite,” he admits after some time, long strides closing the distance between the two of you in no time.
You find yourself being pushed back against the bed. Slowly, Rafayel pushes you to lay on your pillow, staring up at him in the moon’s light. He looks ethereal like this and you can’t imagine how you’re still capable of any sort of thinking right now.
A slight chuckle leaves his lips at the sight of your eyes widening. His hand goes to cup your face, leaning in so close your noses would be touching were it not for that infuriating piece of leather that keeps your breaths from intermingling. You have half a mind to ask him again, this time in the form of a wish to see if he’ll accept but you feel your mind go blank as you feel him press his face against your neck.
“What are you-”
Your words devolve to gasps, hands going to cling onto his shoulders as you feel him periodically press a little harder against your skin. If you close your eyes and really focus you think you can feel his lips pressing against the leather, kissing you through his mask. His breath rings in your ear, you trying to keep your gasps quiet to avoid drawing attention to your chambers.
“Fulfilling Your Highness’ wish. Is that not what you wanted?”
You know that even this much is more than you could ever ask for, Rafayel always watching you cautiously whenever your hands would near his mask. You understand that he has his reasons for privacy and you would never ask him why but now, you’re just desperate to feel his lips on your skin, desperate to know if it’s as good as you’ve fantasized about. The only solace you get is the warmth of his body seeping through his clothes, teasing the tips of your fingers as you try not to act desperate for more of his touch.
“I can feel you holding back. Don’t tell me Your Highness is getting greedy?” he laughs breathily, the slight pant in his voice unnoticed by you with how divine it feels to be under him.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” you manage to mumble, biting back a slight moan when you feel his arm creep under your back and push you closer to his face.
“Hate you?”
The words leave his throat almost bloody. Just the sheer thought of hating you made his stomach churn, murky waters of his affection for you maddened that you could ever think such a thing. His hands tighten their grip on your body to a way that’s almost painful, looking up at you with a look that has so much want in it that it steals the breath out of your lungs.
“I could never hate you.”
His hair tickles your throat as you feel him settle against your neck, nuzzling into you and resting his hand on your waist. You try to turn to face him but the weight of his body stops you, Rafayel giving you a sound of disagreement.
“I told you already. It’s quite the opposite.”
You try to ask him to clarify, about to open your mouth when you he quickly gets up. He looks at you quickly before going to look around your room, shaking his head good naturedly at the slight furrow of your brows and parted lips. You watch him rummage through your things, getting even more confused when he returns with a strip of ribbon between his fingers.
He crawls over your body again, tilting your chin with his knuckles. You think you’re imagining it in the low light but the apples of his cheeks seem tinted red. Curious, you bring your hand up to the side of his face. You’re glad that he doesn’t seem to be flinching away from your touch. A smile graces your lips when you feel how warm his face is, Rafayel now pulling away from you slightly.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, a slight pout in his voice.
“You’re warm,” you laugh, bringing your hand closer to his face.
Your fingers brush against his ear, sure with how warm they are that he’s bright red. Your fingers trail down the curves, nail tracing the shape of his jaw down to his collar. He doesn’t shy away. Instead, his hand goes to grab your wrist, the ribbon tickling your skin as he leans in closer.
“This is your fault. You know that, right?” he scolds lightly.
“If it weren’t for you my heart wouldn’t feel like a hurricane over the ocean. Do you feel that?”
He brings your wrist over to rest on his chest, your palm resting over his heart. True to his word you can feel his heart pounding under your fingers. He presses his chest against you, brows furrowing as your fingers press against him.
“You should be more understanding, Your Highness. You can’t just do these things to people and leave them washed up on the beach during low tide. It’s cruel.”
The way he pitches his voice in your ear makes you swoon and you’re glad you’re already laying down. Your knees feel weak and you barely register his thumbs tracing a smooth line across your cheek. You’re both so close to each other that you’re suffocating in his presence.
“Are you willing to face the consequences?” he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
Weakly, you nod. With this, he brings both his hands to your face and suddenly you have your vision obscured by the ribbon he pulled out earlier. You bring your hands up to reach for it, immediately stopped by his strong grip.
“You said you’d be willing to accept it. You trust me, don’t you?”
His voice is raspy, laced with something more than just the question he’s asked you. There’s a weight to his words, something dragging down the vowels and accentuating the bite of his consonants. Your breath is caught in your throat as you wait for him to finish tying the ribbon behind your head, whimpering softly when he brings his thumb to press against your bottom lip.
Forced to wait, you try to imagine what he might do now. Your mind runs wild, barely listening to the sounds around you when you feel his weight on your body again. You reach out for him but gasp when you feel his lips press against your bare skin. The sound is indecent and you’re embarrassed you were even capable of making it but when you try to hide it you feel him bite you, squeaking in response.
“Don’t hide from me. I want to hear your voice. Don’t you think I deserve a bit of a reward for this?”
He continues to litter your skin in featherlight kisses, and you realise that his clothes don’t seem as thick as they usually are. You can feel his skin through the thinner layers, about to say something when his lips press against yours. It’s soft, barely there but the contact is enough to make your mind spin. You get the sense that he’s testing your boundaries and before he can pull away you wind your fingers through his hair, kissing him more insistently this time.
“I hope you don’t mind the blindfold, but I think it’s more exciting this way, don’t you think? This way, you’re forced to guess what I’m going to do next to you,” he breathes against you when he finally pulls back.
“You just like teasing me,” you mutter, scared to admit just how much you liked this and wanted him to keep going.
“I’m just trying to get revenge on you. You’ve been teasing me too! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this.”
He starts to trail kisses down your neck again, sucking gently against your collar. As much as he would like to, he can’t leave any marks on your skin. Something even semi-permanent like that seems far too cruel for someone like him to leave on someone like you. He reveres you and you can feel it in the way he kisses you, showering your body in an affection he’s never felt for anybody else.
“Rafayel – please –” you whimper, his name coming off your tongue his own siren song.
“Please what? I won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me,” he hums, hand going to play with the fabric beginning to bunch under your waist.
He slots himself between your legs and your knees rest against his hips. You wish you could see him, look at the expression on his face. You wish you could watch him press kisses to your skin, watch his fingers tighten against you the way they are now, the way his nails scratch lightly against your skin between the slits of your nightgown.
“More, please,” he hears you ask weakly. “I need more of you. Rafayel? Please?”
He thinks he should tease you more but considering your current state and his own desperation he decides not to. Instead, he pushes up the fabric on your legs slowly, trying to see if you’ll stop him. When you don’t and instead try to egg him on by making it easier for him, he lets his hands rest on your thighs now laid bare for his hungry gaze.
“Are you sure? This is really something you want?”
The question is desperate, Rafayel not knowing if he wants you to stop him or not. His body longs to be pressed against yours, to make you say his name that prettily over and over again. He thinks he’ll die if he can’t have it, kissing lower and lower over the fabric on your chest to convince you to say yes.
He doesn’t know that he doesn’t have to fight that hard for you.
You clasp your fingers with his, bringing them to rest on the inside of your thighs. He’s glad he can’t see the look in your eyes, knowing that if he did it’d make all of his resolve crack if this is how bold you’re already being without being able to see the effect you have on him.
Tentatively, he brings his fingers closer to the heat burning between your legs. It doesn’t take him long to feel the damp spot between your legs and recognise that it’s getting damper with each kiss he gives you. You start to whine as his fingers tease your slit through your underwear, your body feeling things you didn’t know you could feel just with his touch.
“I didn’t know you were capable of such dirty things Your Highness.”
Despite his teasing words, you can tell he wants it just as much when he slips his fingers between the fabric and your body, fingers haphazardly exploring your body as he kisses your lips again. He swallows each moan you give him desperately, relishing in the whimper you give him when his fingertips start circling your clit.
“You’re the one doing this to me,” you whine, hips bucking against his palm as his fingers slip inside.
“You’re the one who started this. I’ll stop whenever you tell me to,” he mumbles against your neck.
Your moans are louder now and as much as he’d love to have everyone hear how good he makes you feel he also would hate it if your maid came in and saw what was happening. He covers your mouth with his free hand, ignoring the way it feels to have your gasps pressed up against his palm. He wants to ruin you, make you cry and scream from pleasure and have you be his for the rest of time but here, in the quiet of your bedroom he’ll settle for just this for now.
His hand stays focused, letting you moan and gasp into his palm as he fingers you. You feel his palm rest against your body, thumb replacing his finger as he the heel to rest against your core. He can make out gasps of his name when he hits a certain part inside of you and decides it’s too cruel to keep your mouth covered like this. You immediately moan his name, quieter this time to avoid being heard by your staff.
You clench around his fingers, the hand not bracing against his chest going to grab his wrist. Rafayel gives you a breathy laugh and you bury your face against his neck, continuing to moan and plead for him quietly.
“Please – Rafayel – I –“
Your own words are cut off quickly by your impending orgasm, biting into his shoulder to try and hold back your noises as your hips arch into him. The bite of your clothes against your skin as you writhe does nothing to impede the feeling of his hand on your cunt, Rafayel’s voice gently talking you through your orgasm. Stars litter the space of your eyelids, Rafayel’s arm coming to hold you against him.
When you finally come down you find yourself placed carefully in Rafayel’s lap. He’s taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, gently tracing shapes on the skin of your lower back. Your blindfold is still on but you don’t doubt that the hard planes of your bed is Rafayel and when you hear his voice come from just above you you know you’re right.
“You’re awful to me, did you know that?” he muses, groaning slightly when you reposition yourself slightly and brush up against his cock.
“Stop that! I can’t believe you right now.”
“I’m just trying to get comfortable! This is just as much your fault as it is mine,” you say hazily.
You sit up on your knees, carefully putting your arms around his shoulders. You reach behind yourself to touch him, shuddering at the gasp he gives you against your arm. You feel his tip prodding gently against your opening, sinking down slightly. When you hear him gasp again you know you have him where you want him.
“You really want this?” you ask him huskily, mirroring his words from before.
Your hand rests on his cheek and you can feel him nod, continuing your slow descent onto his lap. It takes you a second to adjust to his size, hugging his neck tighter as you moan. His hands come to rest on your hips and he shifts slightly to create a better angle for himself. This makes him sink into you just the slightest bit deeper, you whimpering pathetically as he starts a slow, languid pace thrusting into you.
“Rafayel!” you gasp, hands bunching in his hair as you let him dictate the pace.
“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Your Highness. I’m here for you. Don’t worry – I’ll make you feel good. You know I will,” he mutters into your ear, continuing his gentle grind into you.
For the umpteenth time you wish that you could see him. For now, you have to sate yourself with his pretty moans and gasps, the way he feels inside of you and the affectionate kisses he peppers across your skin. Thanks to his pace you feel yourself coming to a slow build of your orgasm, his soft words of praise and coaxes going straight to your cunt. He groans every time you clench around him, the feeling of your pussy finally being wrapped around him making it hard for his mind to stop swimming.
He angles his hips to find that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, bringing a hand down to your clit despite how much he loves holding you because he knows he’ll love the feeling of you cumming around him more. When you give him a sharp gasp he knows he’s found it, thrusting more insistently. You grind against his pelvis, not wanting it to be over too quickly but still desperate for your release.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Rafayel asks, pulling you out of the depths of your stupor just barely.
“I can feel it. You’re getting so tight around me – if you squeeze me like this then I’ll cum too. It’s okay, just let go. I told you I’d make you feel good, didn’t I? You’ve already done so well. Just a little bit more, okay?” he coaxes, the sound of his voice tipping you over the edge.
You cum with a broken cry of his name, holding onto his shoulders tightly. It takes him just a couple more strokes inside of you to cum himself, unable to think of anything but filling you up and claiming you as his in this small way. The two of you sit together, coming down from your shared high. You whine a little about still wearing the blindfold but that’s quickly quieted by him kissing you again, telling you that it’s part of the condition for him kissing you.
Your breathing slows together and after a minute he feels you becoming dead weight. He laughs to himself when he realises that you’ve fallen asleep on him, carefully moving you aside to lay you back down on your bed. After cleaning the two of you up and tucking you into bed he gives you one final kiss to your forehead. You make a small noise of complaint, Rafayel kneeling at the side of your bed to take one last look at you for the night. His hand rests on your cheek softly, pretending that this didn’t drastically change everything.
“I love you. Sleep well, my Princess,” he whispers, the far away sound of waves lapping on a shore the only witness to his words.
#love and deepspace#rafayel#rafayel x reader#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace x reader#rafayel smut
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Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)
So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk
So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it
Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---
Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it
Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad
So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens
Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is
We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac
Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))
so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol
Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)
Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.
I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)
And that all ((((hollly mother))))
If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏
#clown does art#lego monkey kid#lmk sunbreak#sunbreak#shadowpeach#lmk macaque#six eared macaque#lmk mk#lmk red son#fanfiction#lmk#lmk pif#princess iron fan
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Sage
Summary: Joel finished your tattoo but staying in each other lives is easier than he thinks. A late night phone call reminds him of how easy it is to lose something too.
Read the beginning: You put aside your touch aversion for a tattoo from Joel.
Pairing: tattoo artist!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Word count: ~10.6k
Warnings: slow build, no outbreak tattoo!au, angst then comfort, the 'believes they're hard to love, loving them is like breathing' trope, reader has issues with touch and is mostly touch adverse (joel's workin' on that though), description of a past abusive relationship, undefined unresolved previous trauma, insecurity, anxiety, Joel gets to have both his daughters in this
A/N: I can't tell you how happy the love for this series has made me. You’re all my heroes and this is dedicated to all of you.
Once again, we’re ignoring canon and pretending like Joel can draw for this fic, thank you. Editing this was a labor, so if there are any mistakes blame my tired eyes. Thank you for reading! As always, I would love to know your thoughts! Please please please, be sure to leave feedback!
“Joel?” Your voice is staticky in the dark.
He’s used to answering the phone half awake in the middle of the night, shadows still strung between the wings of his window. Between bailing Tommy out of jail when he was younger and rescuing Sarah and Ellie from sleepovers they didn’t want to stay at, he’s answered the phone in the shy hours of the very early morning more times than he can count.
In the few months he’s known you, though, you’ve never called him, not once, let alone in the middle of the night.
“Joel?” The connection crackles and your voice wavers. “Can you hear me?”
It’s then that his mind catches up with him, digs its heels in and kicks to life. He hadn’t said anything beyond a cranky, irritated hello? after the shrill ring woke him and he blindly groped for the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hey, yeah, I can hear ya.”
Maybe he has the good sense to answer you, but he’s not awake enough to consider the why of the call yet. He’s glad to hear your voice, though.
It’s like a sweet little song in his ear when he hadn’t gotten to see you at all that day.
And lately the days he doesn’t get to see you are a rarity.
Most days, you stop by the studio but some days he meets you for coffee, or goes on a drive with you, or insists on teaching you to fish. You’ve been at a few Friday dinners with his girls, though not all of them because you fold yourself up tight and try not to intrude. Most Sundays find you arriving early at his door with pie and coffee from Flu’s, which you eat on his front porch in companionable silence before the heat of the day can settle in.
“I’m sorry,” you say. Your voice trembles and Joel feels like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over him.
He lurches up in bed so fast that spots dance in his vision and a spear of pain slices through his shoulder, raking iron hot nails into a years old injury. “Sweetheart?” A knot of protective worry forms in his chest, lights a fire in his belly. “What’s goin’ on?”
The moon casts a thin, pale beam of light across the foot of his bed, growing brighter by the second as his eyes adjust to the darkness. But then you continue and the protective feeling only grows, and then goes hard with an icy ferocity. “Sorry for calling so late and bothering you with this but I don’t—I didn’t have anyone else I wanted to call.”
Your voice breaks on the last word, the creaking in your mouth splintering across the line. “Can you…I don’t—” There’s a little pause in which Joel can hear your footsteps as you pace and the quick sound of your breathing. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Joel pulls himself out of bed and shucks on his jeans that had lain crumpled on the floor where he left them and then pulls on the first shirt his hand touches when he yanks open a dresser drawer. “What’s goin’ on?” He asks again. “Where are you?”
“Ugh—” You swallow thickly, sounding inexplicably embarrassed. “It’s nothing, really. I’m-I’m being stupid. I shouldn’t have called.”
He can practically see you fidgeting, looking down, shaking your head. Can practically feel you thinking of hanging up the phone, nervous doe eyes darting around like you’ve done something wrong.
“Don’t sound like nothin’,” he grits out, his voice coming out harsher than he means it to. “What happened?”
You’d gone down to Austin to visit some friends for the day. It’s why he hadn’t gotten the chance to see you.
Your ex slips suddenly to the forefront of his mind, who was the goddamn reason you’d moved out of Austin in the first place. Then all the myriad of other terrible things that could have prompted you to call him so late flash through his mind.
It only serves to make his chest burn.
“You still in Austin?” Again, his voice comes out angrier than he intends. He pulls open his bedroom door and moves down the hall, not bothering to flip on any lights.
“No. I’m at—I’m at home,” you stutter.
He pauses in the front entryway, wallet and keys dangling from his fingers, one foot halfway into a shoe. “Home?”
“I’m—yeah, home. I just…I came home and the street door was open. I thought maybe the neighbors just forgot to close it when they were bringing groceries in or something, but then the security light wasn’t coming on and my apartment door is open too. It’s probably nothing, Joel, don’t bother with—look I’m sorry for—”
He’s frozen for a moment. The cavernous black hole of your front door looms, the teeth of the darkness sharp and wanting.
The street door, despite his best efforts to augment it, is notoriously difficult to get open. If it was open when you got home—
If your apartment door was open too—
“I’m sorry for calling,” you say again when he doesn’t answer, your voice small and anxious. “I think I might have been robbed or something. I just. . . I didn’t want to call anyone else,” you repeat. “I’m afraid.”
Afraid.
It’s a cold word.
Stuffing his wallet into his back pocket and getting his boots all the way on, he tugs his own front door open. “Don’t you move a goddamn muscle. Do not go inside. Go back down to the street.”
“Joel—”
“I’m serious,” he all but snarls. “Now.”
“Okay,” you agree. Your voice is tight, choked. “Okay.”
“I’m gettin’ on the road now.”
“Thank you.”
He doesn’t answer for a minute, just listens to your breathing as he gets in his truck and turns the engine, phone squished between his shoulder and ear. The drive into town is only about ten minutes. You should be alright in that time.
“You there?” Your voice is breathy. You sound a little like you might have been crying and he wonders how long you waffled in front of your door, trying to decide whether to call him or just go inside by yourself. “Joel?”
“‘m here.” He turns off the long dirt road that leads to the ranch. “Yeah, I’m here, honey. Stay on the phone.”
“Okay,” you murmur. “Thanks,” you say again.
The word doesn’t register. His mind is already with you, imagining you standing alone on your street, or worse, with folks lurking around the corner waiting to do you harm. It’s an insidious image that he knows isn’t based entirely in reality. “You alone?” Despite his thoughts, he can’t imagine anyone out on the streets of the tiny town at this hour.
“Mm. Just me.”
“Good. Stay away from that door,” he grumbles.
“Bossy,” you accuse lightly, the soft attempt at a joke.
He doesn’t laugh. The drive feels like it's taking too long, longer than the ten minutes it normally takes.
He steps on the accelerator and his mind wanders to all the other times he’s been called, into the dark or otherwise, because his people needed him. To the hospital once when Sarah had broken her ankle at a pool party, to the high school when Ellie’d gotten into a fight that ended with a blood spattered hallway and broken nose.
Those were the worst calls, drives. That was when he felt most helpless, like he was stuck in quicksand. There were just things that he couldn’t protect them from. He couldn’t be there every second of the day, he couldn’t always be with them, and that had always grated.
Most assured him the anxiety would fade as Sarah got older, but it never did. It hadn’t even begun with her. It was always there, that protective anxiousness. It had gotten exponentially worse with Sarah’s birth, a tiny life he was responsible for, a tiny life that was so delicate.
And then—Ellie. At least with Sarah he’d had some piece of mind. But Ellie, like Tommy, had a knack for trouble. Too many times she swung in the back door with bleeding knees and twigs stuck in her hair and a scrape over her cheek. It wasn’t always a fight, sometimes it was just climbing a tree she had no business being in, racing her bike against kids twice her size, and unlike Sarah, she had no sense of preservation.
“Are you hurt?” The question burns in his mouth. He doesn't mean to ask it.
“Hurt—” you start, sounding surprised. “No. No, of course not. I’m okay, Joel. It’s just the stupid door. I’m just—I told you I’m just being stupid. Listen, just—”
Joel knows what you’re going to say, and he should tell you that you aren’t being stupid, that it was good you called him; that he wants you to call him, all the time, but especially when you need him.
Instead, he snaps, “Don’t move.”
Your voice cuts off.
His eyes strain past streetlights and empty, open fields, past the copse of trees that marked the start of a forest where he’d seen a trio of deer a few weeks before, like some kind of omen.
In the distance, the town comes into view. You don’t say anything but he listens to the sound of your breathing, the calm in and out that reassures him that you’re okay, that you’re there patiently waiting.
When he turns down your street, you come into view, standing beneath a streetlight in front of your building. The security light above your door flickers weakly, but otherwise remains dark. “You see me?”
You turn and lift your hand. “I see you,” you say, voice crumbling and soft. The golden light pools around you, casts your shadow behind you like a ghost, or an angel. But you’re there, you’re safe, he can see you, and some of the tension melts off his shoulders. “Gonna hang up now,” you say.
“All right,” he agrees.
The line goes dead.
Joel is angry with you.
It’s the only thought that sticks, barbed and fanged and catching, in your mind. It burrows into the top of your spine and makes your whole body go rigid with fear.
Joel is angry with you.
Joel, who’s always been sweet and kind. Who introduced you to his family with affection in his voice, took you fishing and always tossed the fish back when you looked so mournfully at them, who pointed out birds and deer to you quietly and with a practiced ease, who lets you read on the green leather couch in his shop and asks your opinions on the designs he’s working on that you often wish were for you.
But you’ve never really fucked up before. You’ve never made him angry.
This, calling him out of bed in the middle of the night, would give him plenty to be angry about. It would give him something to blame you for.
The truck rolls to a stop, headlights flaring out, and dread forms a knot in the back of your throat.
Before you can open your mouth, to head off his foul mood and explain, Joel is out of the truck and his hands are cupped around your shoulders, then the sides of your face.
You flinch at the suddenness of it and then tense but Joel doesn’t seem to notice, his eyes darting over your body like he expects to find you gravely injured. He doesn’t normally touch you so abruptly and the feeling of his hands on your skin makes tears burn behind your eyes.
He looks pretty in the moonlight. His eyes are cast dark and shaded as they search yours, his pupils so blown out the brown is consumed. You aren’t sure what he’s looking for. “You all right?” He asks, the comforting scent of him wrapping around you. He smells like rosemary and pine, like sawdust. You think distantly that he must have been working on some project earlier in the day.
And sage. He smells like protection.
His thumb slides over your cheek slowly in a vaguely self soothing way.
You resist the urge to twist out of grip, trying to remind yourself that now isn’t then, that he isn’t him.
Your body remembers though, remembers what it’s like to taste fear.
“Fine,” you reassure him again and pull back slightly. “I just—like I said, it’s nothing. It’s stupid. I just got spooked. I—Joel I’m sorry—”
Joel doesn’t seem to hear you as he releases your face, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw there. He grips your elbow instead and leads you to the passenger side of the truck. “You stay here,” he says. “‘M gonna take a look around. Give me your key.”
There’s a protective violence around him, a current of energy that makes you wary, that you don’t want to be on the wrong side of.
“You—Joel, please, listen—” You attempt to shake his hand off, panic clawing at your chest. You’re too tense to be touched, too anxious he’s about to snap at you.
Joel has never raised his voice at you. This fear isn’t one that should rest with him and that frustrates you even more. It makes you feel crazy and unbalanced and like you don’t know who’s really in front of you.
Still, it’s your fault, after all. It’s your fault he’s here, and maybe that’s good enough for him to start.
His eyes are like hard, dark flint, like chips of glittering amber, glinting in the pale moonlight that washes out his skin, highlights the circles beneath his eyes.
“Just stay here,” he repeats. His voice is hard when his eyes flash up to yours. “I’ll only be a minute.” His hand still cradles your elbow as he pulls the truck’s door open, thumb sweeping over the ridge of bone there.
His hand feels tight, even though it’s probably not. You tug your arm gently out of his grasp and take a step back. “I’m not going to stay here,” you try again, gathering your courage and tipping your chin up. “It’s my apartment. And I don’t want you to go alone.”
Joel stares at you, brows lowering over his eyes.
Anxiety beats a nervous, familiar pattern against your ribs, hollowing out the well of your lungs. You bite back the urge to apologize to him again, but he clearly doesn’t want to hear it since he hasn’t responded to it yet.
He is angry with you, and you don’t like that. But you try to remind yourself again that Joel is not your ex, that in the months you’ve known him, he’s never made you feel unsafe, or like you couldn’t disagree with him.
But it hadn’t been like that with your ex at first either, and your body is not listening to your mind.
“Jesus Christ—” he grits out then stops, the words long and deeply accented in his mouth. You do your best to swallow down the squirming worry souring your belly. “Fine. Just—behind me.”
You aren’t sure how to deal with Joel like this, he’s always so soft and kind and easy with you.
And you suppose he’s being soft with you now, he’s just—
Angry. He sounds mad; he must be pissed off. Probably because you’ve called him out of bed in the middle of night for no good reason, really. You should have just plucked up the courage to go inside by yourself. It’s likely you’ve called him down for nothing.
“Okay,” you relent. “Behind you.”
He doesn’t answer and shuts the truck door. Instead, he moves toward your building without preamble, decidedly not looking at you.
Seeing the street door wide open when you got home had scared you, the security light not blinking on had terrified you, and then Joel’s constant worries had drifted into the back of your mind, cloyingly poisonous.
He hates that you leave your windows open and trust the town you live in. He hates anytime you mention that your neighbors leave their door unlocked, even as a joke.
Ain’t safe, he always said, you don’t do that.
It was never a question.
He worries about you standing on the street and struggling with the door. He worries about you getting robbed or worse. You always rolled your eyes, because it was always fine and Joel was a serial worrier.
But that had been all you were able to think of as you stood there on the street.
Somehow, you’d convinced yourself to go inside after a few long minutes. You’d debated just going inside too, when you found your apartment door open but the fear had eventually won out.
Joel’s broad shoulders disappear into the dark entryway before the stairwell light flares on. He’s wearing just a t-shirt and jeans. He looks rumpled and soft and painfully domestic. His jeans are pressed with creases, the laces of his boots undone. The t-shirt stretches across the plains of his back, tight against his shoulders. His hair, normally carefully brushed, is mussed. A lick of gray hair sticks up off his forehead.
When he stops in front of your apartment door, you have to repress the urge to smooth it back, to press yourself into his side in silent askance for comfort you’re not sure you deserve.
“I’m sorry,” you find yourself saying again. “Really,” you continue, trying to ignore the dread building colonies in your lungs.
Nervous now, you realize, not because you might have been robbed, but because Joel is angry with you.
But, like all the other times, Joel doesn't acknowledge your apology. He pushes the door open and flips on the light just inside the door.
Your apartment looks the way it always does, homely and calm. You can’t see a single thing out of place, but that doesn’t stop Joel from searching through it anyway.
For the next few minutes it's quiet as Joel moves slowly around your little apartment. It’s messy, messier than usual. And when he pushes your bedroom door open, you feel embarrassment crawl up the back of your throat.
Because this is the first time he’s seeing your bedroom, also a mess, and you realize you wanted that to go differently.
He’s only ever had cause to sit at your tiny kitchen table, your sofa, before.
The floor is strewn with clothes, your bed is unmade, half your jewelry is out of its box and strung across your dresser. Used glasses and mugs sit on your bedside table that you’ve yet to take to the kitchen, your desk is a mess of old receipts, record sleeves, discarded pens, and stacks of books.
You wince when he pushes aside your curtains and slams your window shut, the one you always left open for Paprika, before he opens your closet door.
When your throat tightens, you leave him to your room and sit on your couch instead to wait.
Inexplicable shame and embarrassment melts around your heart. You try not to think of yourself as a bother to him, not exactly, anyway, and not anymore. But it's hard in this moment when he sounds so upset, so irritated with you.
Over the last few months, being around Joel and being. . .kind of something, something indefinable and light, to each other, you’ve realized it wasn’t just the tattoo. The tattoo your ex gave you, branded you with, was just the final nail in the coffin.
Now is a good reminder of that, that you’re sitting around waiting for Joel to tell you how useless you are, to break something, to snap at you.
He won’t, you know that. Somewhere inside you, you know that’s the truth.
But your body does not understand that. You’re coiled as tight as a spring, hands fisted in your lap as you wait for the other shoe to drop, for his concern to evaporate when he realizes there really is nothing wrong.
Anxiety burns bright in your belly, echoes in the stiff cut of Joel’s shoulders, the way he stalks around your apartment, checking increasingly more absurd hiding places until he’s satisfied that you’re alone and the door is locked.
Joel pushes aside the clothes hanging in your closet, gets on his hands and knees and looks under your bed, and finally peeks in your bathroom.
He feels calmer, better, now that he knows you’re safe and unharmed, that you’re there in the living room with the front door locked and your bedroom window shut.
Which reminds him of that damn cat you sometimes let into your apartment, and doesn’t seem to be around.
Joel trails back to the main room, ignoring the details of your bedroom—the clothes in piles on the floor, the few books strewn across your bed and desk with pens sticking out of the pages, the soft cerulean and cream blankets draped over your bed and on the chair in the corner. He shouldn’t get to see those things, not like this at least. “Where’s your cat?”
You blink and turn to look at him over the back of the sofa. You have one of the brightly colored, crocheted shawls over your shoulders and had been staring at his painting. The one he gifted you a few weeks before and that you don’t know is of you. The doe with bees dancing around her ears.
It’s an okay painting, but you adore it.
“What?”
“Your cat,” Joel grumbles. He’s yet to meet the cat, who always made himself scarce whenever he happened to find himself in your apartment. “Paprika, right? He’s not inside. He okay?”
He doesn’t want to go searching alleyways in the dark for the orange tabby but he’ll do it. For you, he’d do it.
“Oh,” you frown. “He’s not really mine,” you shake your head and shift your eyes from his. You look anxious and drawn. It’s like a lead weight in his stomach, to see fear and uncertainty spilled across your face. “He’s fine. I just feed him sometimes. He comes and goes when he likes.”
Joel hesitates. “You sure?”
“I—” Your eyes flicker over him before you look away again, your expression closing up. “Um,” you shift uncomfortably. Your shoulders are tense. “Yeah. He doesn’t—he doesn’t really need me.”
Something about the way you say it breaks his heart.
There are a lot of things you don’t see clearly about yourself, and your worth, your importance, is one of them.
“Thanks for coming by,” you say eventually when he doesn’t reply and rounds the couch to sit next to you. “I really didn’t mean to bother you.”
Joel reaches for you, carefully slots his hand in the crook of your elbow. You tense and he sweeps his thumb over the inside of your arm, soothing you the way he always does. His eyes drift down to your tattoo, the one he gave you. It looks beautiful on you. So beautiful he’s drawn up half a dozen other designs just for you.
He’d draw forever, if it meant getting something just right for you again.
It leaves something warm in him, that you like the tattoo so much.
“I think everything is all right,” he admits. He expects you to relax with that reassurance but your arm goes impossibly tenser beneath his touch. “I don’t want you stayin’ here tonight.”
The words fall out of his mouth. They’d been twisting circles around his mind since he picked up your phone call half an hour before, but now they spill out, desperate. Anxiety warps his voice into something hard, something tainted with acrid vulnerability that he hates.
He doesn’t know if you hear it, but you go still and swallow thickly. You tug your arm away from his hand and rub the inside of your elbow.
Your eyes meet his, wide and weighed down with something hurt. His pretty little doe, afraid. He suppresses the urge to tell you it’s all right, that he’s got you.
“But it’s all fine, isn't it?” You ask, like that matters at all, like the night isn’t long.
“Guess so,” he concedes. “But I ain’t leavin’ you here alone tonight. I can’t.”
Your frown, lips parting gently as you stare down at your lap.
“I’d feel better if y’stayed with me,” he continues when you don’t answer, his voice still laced with irritation. He clears it, tries to make it softer but the worry lingers, infects, roots down in him like you have, bright as sunshine, sweet as tea and bumblebees on a summer evening. You make him sick with worry and he needs to know you’re safe. He needs to see you, real and right in front of him. “Tonight.”
“Better?” You look up again, confusion tugging your brows up. “Why?”
Joel fists his hands on his knees. His knuckles strain against his skin, the flesh white with tension. It pulls hard until something starts to ache, and he has to wonder if that’s how you always feel. If your skin feels like a thousand tiny needles are prinkling at the underside of your skin.
“Yeah,” he says, his accent deepened, kinked and hard. “Better knownin’ you’re okay.” His voice doesn’t raise in volume, but you still flinch. You try to pass it off as a shiver but he sees it, finally sees what you see, what you’re so clearly waiting for.
The thought alone makes him want to curl inward, crawl inside his own heart and shield you there. Makes him sick with unease.
And his suspicions are only confirmed when you duck your head, tuck your hands beneath your thighs, and start again, “I’m sorry for bothering you. I really didn’t mean to drag you out of bed for nothing.”
Joel isn’t sure what to say to that as he realizes you’ve been apologizing repeatedly since he got there.
It makes him hate himself, because you’re so clearly afraid of him.
The silence stretches, moonlight pools on your thighs and around your calves from the kitchen window, competing with the low yellow of the floor lamp. You fidget with a loose thread on your jeans, fingers plucking nervously at it.
“It wasn’t—” He shakes his head. He can’t think of a way to reassure you. “You think it was nothin’?”
“Well,” you glance around your intruder-less apartment. Like it’s all the damning evidence you need. “It was. I shouldn’t have called.”
Joel curls a gentle finger beneath your chin and tips your face up, making an effort to have his voice as gentle as he possibly can. Like you’re that deer again, the one that’s familiar with him and yet still wary, still watchful. “You all right with that? Comin’ home with me?” You reluctantly lift your eyes to his and give a mute nod. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m sorry,” you burst out again, soft eyes fringed with worry. “I—”
“Hey.” Joel doesn’t let you look away from him, smoothes his thumb against your chin. Your skin is soft there, and you don’t try to pull away again. “I always want you to call on me. For anythin’. It wasn’t nothin’. I’m glad you called me.”
You blink at the sincerity in his voice. Some of the tension around you fades. “I ain’t upset with you,” he says, just so you’re both clear.
You pull your face away from his hand, and he knows your skin feels stretched too thin, tight and uncomfortable, because you scrub at it again with your hand.
Joel lets his hand drop to the space between you. “Stay with me tonight, darlin’.” he pleads, not sure he’ll be able to make the drive home if you say no. “In the mornin’ we’ll come back here, see if anything is missin’, and I’ll change the locks.”
You shake your head. “It’s fine, Joel,” you try again. “It’s okay. I’m safe here.”
But that isn’t good enough. He needs to know you’re okay and he can’t do that if you’re in this damn apartment alone with locks he no longer has any kind of faith in.
He doesn’t want to try touching you again, not when you’re fidgeting and anxious and pulling away. Guilt ties knots around his lungs when he thinks of you flinching, how often he’s touched you without thought tonight. “Look at me,” he says instead. “Look at me, baby.”
You lift your eyes to his, your gaze hooking into his, desperation he can’t place lingering in your expression. “I’m proud of you, for callin’ on me. But I won’t rest knowin’ you’re here alone.”
You frown. “Proud?” This time, you reach for him.
Your hand is warm and soft, the brush of your fingers against his palm like homecoming. “Yeah.” And then, again, “I’m not mad. You did good.”
He can’t tell if you believe him, but you agree to stay with him anyway.
You’ve been to Joel’s house more than a few times and each time, it’s more familiar than the last.
Joel’s touch is on everything there. His girls’ lives are fingerprinted on every surface, his life and his family pressed into each fold of the house. The walls sigh with memories that have been collected and transported from Austin, wrapped in tissue paper and delicately given a place to live. Somehow, it always smells like sage has always just been burned.
There are a pair of sheep and a goat that command the acres of land around the ranch. “I’d like a couple horses,” he’d said the first time he brought you over and showed you around, months before. A couple weeks had passed since you’d had breakfast with him and his girls for the first time, and you were already dangerously attached to him. “But that’s money and time I don’t have.”
“You should get chickens,” you’d said, petting one of the goats through the wooden fence, squinting at him through autumn sunshine.
“Chickens?”
“Mhm. For eggs. Cost less money than horses and there’s nothing like fresh eggs.”
Joel had only looked consideringly out over the field. “Chickens for horses,” he’d laughed a little, the sound dry and pleasant, like he found you a peculiar kind of amusing. “There’s an idea.”
The driveway is long, the world far away. Late autumn air drifts in the truck’s open windows, warm with dry heat. The fingers of bare trees reach toward the sky, skeletal and thin, clenched around the outline of the moon.
The ranch always feels like a home, like a refuge, and in the night it seems like a fortress. He parks the truck beneath a leafless oak and kills the engine. You listen to it pop as it cools in the darkness.
Lightning bugs careen through the air, the low sounds of crickets and cicadas cascading on the breeze. “C’mon,” Joel’s voice is crinkled, washed in the gentle, pastel colored tones you know. “Let’s get you inside.”
Joel takes your bag from your hands and meets you on your side of the truck before you even have the door fully open, his hand pressed to your spine. You fight the urge to lean away, an anxiousness thrumming under your skin that isn’t familiar when it comes to Joel’s touch.
As you cross the driveway to his front porch you spot something through the dark, a new structure near the sheep’s fence. “Are you building something?”
He turns to where you’re looking. “Chicken coop,” he mumbles.
“You’re getting chickens?” You ask, surprised.
“Told me to, didn’t ya?”
You suppose you did, though you didn’t know he’d actually taken your suggestion to heart.
But he sounds annoyed again, so you let it go, let him push you ahead of him toward the house. Joel’s front door, unlike your own, opens without complaint.
His keys rattle as he sits them on the table inside the door. The living room light blinks on, a warm yellow that contrasts against the lightening blue sky beyond the front windows. Guilt swirls in your belly again. It’s so late that it’s now early.
If you weren’t so stupid, if you weren’t so useless—
The only thing you can be grateful for is that it’s a Sunday and Joel doesn’t have to rush to the studio after being awake all night.
A new, shame laden thought blooms, infects—maybe he felt he had no choice but to heed your call. Because you’re useless.
“This way,” Joel grumbles lowly in your ear, his hand on your hip, pushing you through the living room gently but forcefully, like he’s herding a particularly stubborn sheep.
You step away from his hand, and this time Joel notices immediately and drops his hand. “That’s okay,” you assure him. “I remember where the bathroom is.”
“You all right?” He asks. “I know you’re probably—”
“I know you said you aren’t angry,” you interrupt, fidgeting with your fingers. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to do things for me. You could have said no. You could have told me to figure it out.”
He stares at you, confusion pulling at the lines in his face. You have to lock down the urge to reach up and trace the delicate pattern of crow’s feet beside his eyes. “I didn’t want to say no.”
You blink, something warm worming its way into your heart, replacing the dread that had curled there like a snake, sharp with venom, waiting to strike. “You didn’t?”
“Sweetheart,” he says, extending his hand to you but not touching you. “I’d do it every night if I had to, if it meant you were safe. You don’t have to figure it out. Not alone, anyhow.”
“Well,” you say gently. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to every night.” Then, before you can help yourself, you continue, “I know you said you weren’t, but you just. . .you sounded angry.” You stop and think about leaving it at that but he would never understand you if you left him to guess. You want to be honest with him besides. You want him to trust you. “And I. . .my ex he—well, he would have been upset. He would have told me to figure it out.”
You fold your hand into his, still outstretched to you. The pads of his fingers are rough and familiar beneath yours. “I ain’t him,” he reminds you.
“I know. But it’s hard to remember, sometimes.” You take a long breath. “I always had to get ahead of it, y’know? Because I was always in the wrong. It was somehow always my fault.”
Joel watches you, his eyes knowing in a way you can’t decipher. He nods and instead of answering, he holds out your bag. “C’mon,” he says, voice soft, like the brush of wings. “Been a long night.”
When you’ve washed your face and changed your clothes and convinced yourself that Joel was telling the truth and that he would not mind seeing you in your pajamas—you trek back through the house to find him in the kitchen.
He’s sitting at the dining table, covered in Sarah’s textbooks from the previous semester and photo albums and mail, a bowl of fruit and a jar of honey, art supplies and the tiniest carving of a deer you’ve ever seen. You pause and let your bag fall to the floor before slowly approaching.
Joel’s shoulders are loose and soft, one hand relaxed and open on the table, the other curled around a pencil as he sketches in an open leather bound book.
He turns and closes the book before you can peer over his shoulder and see what it is he’s working on. “Hey,” he says, the cut of his voice back to what you know. It alights on you in a warm glow, chases the fog of worry from your mind. “You all right?”
It feels like the thousandth time he’s asked you.
“I promise I’m fine, Joel,” you assure, pressing one hand to the space between his shoulder blades. He leans back into your touch almost immediately, the tendon in his neck loosening. You rub your thumb slowly against his skin. Thick muscle flexes and releases beneath your hand. “Really.”
“It’s okay,” he says, glancing up at you. “If you’re shaken up.”
You pause and tilt your head at him. “Do you want me to be?” You ask, finally pushing that errant lock of his hair back down and into place.
“No,” he answers immediately. He stares up at you with big, sincere eyes. Your gaze flicks across his face, down to his mouth, and not for the first time, you find yourself wishing he’d kiss you.
Just like each Sunday morning spent on his porch, just like all those times he pointed wildlife out to you, his shoulder pressed into yours, his face close to yours when you turned to smile at him.
“Are you shaken up?” You ask, refocusing on the softness of his gaze.
Joel shifts in his seat and then reaches out to draw the chair next to him out. You let your hand fall from his back and fold yourself into the space next to him, wishing he’d tuck you into his side.
He doesn’t, because he’s Joel. Instead, he lays his hand on the table and lets you come to him, just like he always does, just like he always has.
A few weeks before, when Joel was driving you back to town, you’d seen a deer on the side of the road. She was beautiful with big, dark eyes and a smooth tawny coat. You’d pointed her out, watched the flick and twitch of her alert ears.
You weren’t sure you’d ever seen such a pretty animal before. And then, behind her, two spotted deer, smaller, clearly younger, but no longer fawns, had appeared.
Joel, to your surprise, pulled over. He told you to stay put and then approached them slowly, so he could usher them back into the woods rather than spook them into the road. He hadn’t said anything to you about it and you hadn’t asked, but the act had stuck with you.
Now, his hand there on the table, you’re reminded of that moment. You’re reminded of all the moments like this one, where he patiently waited for you to come closer.
You reach out and fold your fingers through his. “Yeah, I was,” he admits and for a long while he doesn’t say anything else. You aren’t really expecting him to.
The light in the kitchen is warm and muted, a cold blue morning light beginning to grow on the other side of the blinds. There are pictures of his girls all along the wall beside the door that leads to the back deck.
Sarah and Ellie in high school graduation gowns and caps, Ellie bent over someone’s shoulder as she tattooed, hair obscuring her face and theirs, Sarah as a baby in Joel’s arms, Ellie as a gap-toothed child, tongue poking out of her mouth, Tommy and Joel with their arms around each other, fishing poles leaning against the truck behind them.
Joel is only in a couple of the pictures, the space on the wall reserved for the people he loved and not himself. You squint closer. “Joel,” you say, a spike of laughter in your voice. “Is that you? Did Ellie tattoo you?”
“Yep,” he says with a shrug. “Needed the practice.”
“I didn’t know,” you turn back to him and tighten your grip on his hand. You smile. “How many tattoos do you have that I’ve never gotten to see?”
His mouth twitches, the ghost of a smile. “Guess,” he says, throwing your challenge from months ago back at you.
You roll your eyes and don’t take the bait. Instead you say, “It’s okay, you know? That you were shaken up. That’s okay. I’m okay.”
He watches you for a long moment before his eyes drop, and he watches your hands instead. His voice is carefully casual and even when he asks, “How long did you stay with him? After the tattoo?”
There’s nothing accusatory in his voice and it takes you a moment to realize Joel is asking about the tattoo on your shoulder, the one your ex permanently marked you with.
He’s asking about the Pandora’s box of your body, the cavalcade of emotions and fears that lived inside you.
You expected anger, to be screamed at for something out of your control, to be faulted for someone else compromising your safety, to be blamed for asking for help and wanting someone else to take care of you.
“The tattoo. . .” you trail off and swallow back the uncomfortable feeling that lodges itself in the back of your throat. “It was the last straw.” You look away. “I just didn’t realize it at the time. I thought all the other stuff—I thought it was my fault. It doesn’t make sense while it’s happening to you, I guess. You pretend it’s normal because sometimes things are fine and good. I was just stupid enough to wait until after he left me with something permanent to realize things were so bad.”
Joel doesn’t say anything for a minute but when he pulls his hand away from yours, your belly swoops painfully, a knot forming in your chest.
It’s a lot.
Your issues with touch, the relationship trauma you haven’t examined but locked away to burst to the surface while someone was trying to help you. The doubt that he even really wanted to help you, because who would?
But then he says, “It ain’t permanent. Look here.” He tips your chin up with a delicate tap.
You turn and watch him leaf through the leather bound book. He pulls out a sketch and hands it to you. The paper is thick, the edges of it rough and torn. You don’t say anything, not really sure what you’re looking at. The design is beautiful, in the same style as the tattoo on your forearm.
It’s so clearly for you specifically that it makes your heart cinch painfully tight.
“It’s a—we can change it however y’want. It’s a design for a cover-up,” he plucks the page from your fingers and turns it. “See here, there underneath is the original, best as I could remember it anyway.” It’s a coverup of the ugly fucking tattoo on your shoulder, the reminder, the painful, itchy grossness.
You stare at it, unable to form words, lips moving soundlessly as you take the page back, looking more closely at the details, at the clever ways he’d thought of incorporating the existing lines. He doesn’t say anything, not even when you turn and throw your arms around his neck, squeezing tight until his arms curl around your waist. “He doesn’t get to have you,” he says.
One broad hand slides up your spine to cup the back of your neck. It makes you feel small. In a good way, in a way that makes you close your eyes to stave off the tide rising in your chest.
He’d done that the last time he held you, too. When you’d melted into him in your kitchen and told him you were nothing but work. He’d whispered things like it’s okay and good girl in your ear then.
His fingers are warm and firm against your skin, rough and soft in all the right places. An ache forms between your ribs, juts up into your heart and splits you open.
“Thank you,” you say against his shoulder. “For everything.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” he says, his chest rising and falling with each word, like a symphony against your own body.
You bury your nose against his neck, let the pins and needles of touch fade away, replaced with the safety that Joel carried around with him like it cost him nothing. “I mean it,” you say quietly.
“I know you do,” he replies.
The morning light is golden now, bleeding in through the curtains in thin shafts, bars that cross you and Joel, still settled in his arms. It doesn’t feel wrong to relax against him, to let him rub your back slowly.
It doesn’t hurt, and you realize you don’t expect it to.
“You wanna sleep?”
“Maybe for a little while.”
You move out of his grasp, and then let him pull you along to his bedroom.
Joel’s room is darker than the kitchen, and it's easy not to think too hard about what’s happening as you slide beneath the sheets next to him.
It’s quiet, the whole world still and silent aside from the fan rotating slowly overhead.
You reach for him in the dark, curl up tight against his side. His arm slides around your back, tugs you that much closer. He’s still in his jeans but you don’t point that out because you don’t want him to move.
“One of my tattoos,” he says against your temple, when you relax into the safe circle of his arms. “Is over my heart.”
You contemplate that for a long time, trying to imagine what it might be. “A nice one? Or an Ellie apprenticing one?”
He chuckles. “A nice one.” You expect him to ask about your tattoos, and you’re prepared to answer, but he says instead, “It’s been a long time, since I’ve done this.”
Joel doesn’t specify what he means by this, whatever little thing has been growing between you. “Have someone in your bed?” You tease.
He doesn’t answer, the silence heavy, almost melancholy. His hand slides up your back again, the fabric of your shirt teasing up. You tense when his fingers brush against your bare skin, warm and gentle.
His hand moves away and tugs your shirt back down for you. You consider, maybe for the first time, Joel’s position. He’s only ever touched you freely, so needfully, the first and second times you’d been tattooed by him, and every day you’ve seen him since.
He plays by your rules and you have to wonder what he needs.
It’s been a long time, he’d said. He’s inched closer to you over a period of months, patience in spades wrapped around you like a safety net.
You trust Joel, you realize. Maybe you’d known it before but it sinks into your skin in that moment, folds itself tightly inside your soul. You want to let him take something he needs. “It’s okay,” you find yourself saying. “You can. . .it’s okay.”
He hesitates and you push one of his hands back to your waist. “I like it,” you assure him.
He presses both hands beneath your shirt so they rest against the small of your back. The span of his hands are broad, splayed across your spine, over the ridges of your vertebrae. “Sure?” He asks, but his nose is pressed against your temple, his body loose and molded to yours. “My girl,” you think he says, so quiet it’s almost inaudible, the words pressed right against your forehead in a kiss. “Good girl.”
It feels so nice, the intimacy without expectation of anything more, without feeling like something was wrong with you. It feels like the envelope of your heart may burst.
You tuck yourself tighter into the crook of his arm, nose buried against his shoulder. He smells so strongly of himself there, the natural scent of his skin and sweat undercut only slightly by the faded smell of his soap.
He sounds close to sleep, exhausted after the worrisome, anxiety fueled night you had accidentally caused him. “Joel?” He grunts so you know he’s listening, still awake. “My antler tattoo is on my ribs.”
“What?” His hands drift a bit higher. “Really?”
“Mm.”
So when his fingers trace over your bare skin, you close your eyes. The sensation is so nice. The earlier acrid wave of fear has passed and no needles stab at your skin. It tickles, it feels like wings against your ribs.
Want flutters alive, in your belly, between your legs.
His bedroom is warm and cast in faded, milky light. He shifts and pushes up the sleeve of his t-shirt, until the curve of his opposite shoulder and the expanse of skin beneath is bared to your eyes. “One of Ellie’s first,” he says. It’s a needless explanation, though you find the tiny outline of the dinosaur a little funny.
When you reach across his chest and touch it, Joel twitches, like he isn’t expecting you to. His skin is soft there. “It suits you,” you say as he digs both his hands into your waist again.
You trace your fingers over his chest and throat. You trace the line by his eyes and rake your fingers through his hair.
He leans into your touch and you feel like the world rests in your palm.
When he says, “I think I can feel yours.” You close your eyes and smile. It almost feels like he’s tracing the outline of it.
“You can’t.”
“I can,” he disagrees. “It’s real pretty.”
You want to offer to show him yours in return, but sleep and safety pull you under.
Joel’s room is empty when he wakes, and if it weren’t for the clear imprint of your body in the nest of sheets next to him, he’d think the previous night was a dream.
He’d think the comfortable way you curled into him was a dream.
He lies there, jeans cutting into his waist painfully, thinking about how easily you’d curled up next to him, how velvet soft your skin was. It makes him smile and he groans and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Just like a kid,” he huffs. You make him feel young, like this is the first time and he’s a better man than he is.
But he’s starting to wonder if that’s what love is supposed to feel like. Off Balance and brand new and secure and like it had always been there and always would be, all at once.
Joel gets up slowly, shoulder and knees and back smarting as he does. He feels the ghost of your head on his shoulder, an ache forming along his collarbone from the weight of it resting there. His fingers snag on the blanket you must have thrown over him in lieu of your body heat.
He wonders where you’ve gotten to. Maybe you left, took an Uber back to town.
Then, he hears it; commotion in his kitchen.
And he remembers it’s a Sunday and that his girls have been visiting more often, ever since they figured you were around on most Sundays. That usually you stopped by with coffee and pie from Flu’s, and sat on the front porch with him.
The noise is nice, better than waking to a silent house which he’d never gotten used to after Sarah and Ellie moved out.
His girls and you, down the hallway, in the kitchen. There’s laughter, and then a shriek as something shatters on the floor, a flood of curses from Ellie that devolve into shushing and giggling.
The smell of breakfast food cooking slips under the door as he changes. In the bathroom he slicks his hair back into place with wet fingers and thinks about your fingertips fluttering through his hair and tracing the crinkles by his eyes of their own accord. He brushes his teeth and thinks about how gently you’d laid your hand between his shoulder blades, how you let him sleep with his hands pressed inside your shirt, told him about your antler tattoo. . .
The antlers on your ribs, spearing up through the cage of your body.
He wants to see it, trace it, wants to put his mouth against it. The urge to touch every inch of you siphons into his chest, the urge to curl you in close to him, to feel the plush curves of you against his side, in his hands.
He wonders if you’d let him. He wants to earn it from you, coax you closer and closer, as slow as he has to.
When he walks down the hall and passes into the living room and then the kitchen, he finds the three of you huddled around the breakfast table. Sarah’s head is lent against your shoulder and Ellie’s bicep presses into yours.
The three of you have your heads bent together, hungry eyes sliding over something on the table in front of you.
“Mornin’,” he greets.
You look up at him, doe eyes bright, crinkled at the corners, every doubt and fear from the night before washed away. “Morning, Joel.”
“Girls,” he nods, passing by the table, beelining for the coffeepot.
“We made breakfast,” Sarah says by way of a greeting. “How come you haven’t shown her all these designs?”
He does a double take at the table, to find most of the contents of his notebook spread across the wood.
Joel sighs hard through his nose and Ellie does have the grace to at least look sheepish, though it outs her as the instigator. “It’s not like you were ever gonna show her!”
“Jesus,” he grumbles, not looking at you as he grabs a mug from the cabinet, a little embarrassed at the sheer amount of them. “Well, now I won’t get the chance to, will I?”
As he pours coffee into his mug, Ellie gives a dramatic groan and Sarah says, “C’mon, dad, don’t be like that.”
He turns to find all three of you staring at him, and he can’t really be all that upset when your mouth is twitching like you’re trying not to smile. “Come sit down,” you suggest, “and I’ll tell you which one my favorite is.”
So, he gathers up a plate of eggs and bacon and toast and ignores the smirking of both his daughters, the knowingness in both their faces grating on him, and sits across from you.
He watches you page through design after design, months worth of work, all the way back to the beginning of summer when you’d first, finally, wandered into the studio. You push one across the table towards him, and then a couple more.
“That’s just about all of ‘em,” he comments around a forkful of egg.
Instead of responding to him, you turn to Sarah and say, “Maybe one day he’ll realize he’s a good artist.”
You insist on cleaning up after breakfast so Joel can have some time with his daughters.
The light buzz of conversation seeps in from the living room. Occasionally Ellie’s voice rings out, more excitable and louder than Joel and Sarah’s. You can’t hear what they’re talking about and you don’t want to.
A bit of guilt pools in your belly, a slight worry that Joel might be upset with you for letting his girls show you something they probably shouldn’t have.
You hope he really had intended to eventually show them to you, to share with you the beautiful things he made, whether he thought of them like that or not.
Joel’s home bursts with art, with craftsmanship and creativity, though he doesn’t believe you. He tells you the same things are true about your apartment and your silly little hobbies, and you suppose both of you have a little to learn in being as proud of yourselves as you are of each other.
When you’re wiping down the counters, Ellie and Sarah pass through to gather their things and say goodbye. While Sarah gives you an unexpected hug that you make yourself hang on for, Ellie rifles through a cabinet, pilfering it for stray snacks.
“He isn’t mad you saw them,” Sarah says when she pulls back, mischievous glint in her eye.
Ellie and Sarah are the same kind of troublesome, you’ve come to realize. Sarah is just better at hiding it. “Oh yeah?”
“He needs a little push sometimes,” she says delicately and with a shrug.
“More like a huge kick in the ass,” Ellie says. “You should have heard him before he even met you! It was like you were some kind of ghost or something. But it was like that after he met you too.” Her voice pitches lower and gruffer in tone, “Ellie, you’re goin’ to spook her. Don’t say nothin’ —”
“Alright,” Joel says from the mouth of the kitchen. “That’s enough. Get your ass back to Austin.”
You smile at Ellie, “You do a really good impression.”
“Told you, dude!” She says as she slides past her dad, Sarah following right after.
Joel just grunts and then calls after them, “Drive careful!”
“Bye!” Twin voices call out before the front door slams closed.
And then you’re alone with him, fingers still tangled in a dish towel.
Joel’s eyes soften when he looks at you, and you’re reminded of his hands beneath your shirt, the iron hot touch of his body against yours. You’re reminded of the lancing burst of want that sparked inside you with him.
Only with him.
Maybe because you knew he tried to understand, that he’d let you go when you needed it.
You open your mouth, not sure what you’re going to say, when Joel steps forward and tugs the towel out of your hands. “Don’t suppose you’d come outside with me? I want to show you somethin’. See if you might help me with it.”
“Sure,” you say.
Joel nods and when you brush your knuckles against his, he laces your fingers together.
Outside the air is warm in a distinctly autumn way, with the scent of sun in the air muted, the swirling chatter of decaying leaves on the breeze, the earthy scent of hay and soil.
You cross the porch with him and descend the steps to the yard. He leads you toward the chicken coop.
“When did you have time to build that? It’s new.”
“Been workin’ on it for awhile now. Just had Tommy help me move it here from out back.”
“Oh?”
“Was supposed to be a surprise,” he grumbles.
You lean into his arm, seeing your walk from the truck to the house in a different light. “Is that why you were cranky about me seeing it last night?” Joel starts to answer when you gasp and let go of him as two red-ish brown hens and a rooster round the corner of the coop. “Joel! You already got some?”
He mutters something about goddamn chickens showing me up behind you as you crouch to watch them on the other side of the fence.
“I did,” he sighs. “Look here.” He opens the gate and ushers you through to the other side where a hatch opens in the coop. “Go on,” he says, gesturing for you to look.
Two fuzz balls peer back at you from the depths when you peer into the hatch. “Chicks?” You say excitedly.
“Chicks,” he agrees mildly. “You wanna hold one?”
Without waiting for a response, he gently cups his hands around one of the yellow, fuzzed creatures and drags it out.
And you get the very real pleasure of seeing Joel Miller standing there in the morning sunshine, holding a tiny chicken to his chest. You laugh, and he says, “What?”
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The chick is transferred to your hands from his, light and airy, like something incorporeal sitting in your palms, peeping softly. When you look at him, Joel’s face is relaxed. “What did you want me to help with?”
He clears his throat and gestures to the coop. “Paintin’.”
“Weren’t you a contractor?” You tease. “Shouldn’t you be able to paint it?”
Joel rolls his eyes. “I mean somethin’ pretty. Like how you painted your table.”
“Oh,” you murmur, something warm settling in your chest. “That’s nothing special.”
“Mhm, just like how that painting of mine you like so much ain’t special either.”
You roll your eyes and offer the baby chick back to him. “Okay, I get it. I’ll help you paint it.” Joel tucks the bird back into its home, the peeping fading when he closes the hatch. “Joel,” you reach for his wrist. “I’m sorry about seeing those sketches.”
“You ever goin’ to stop apologizin’ to me for everything?” He asks, eyes alighting on you.
“Well,” you continue. “I am. Especially if you never intended for me to see them.”
He nods and squints into the sun. His boot scuffs against the ground. “I always intended you to see ‘em. They’re yours.”
“They’re beautiful.” You step closer to him, the hens clucking around your ankles, and draw his fingers between yours. It’s quiet for a moment before you take another step. Being around Joel is like being safely shaded, like sleeping in a protected wood. “Thank you for coming when I called. You didn’t have to.”
“I did, honey,” he disagrees. “I’ll always come when you call. Even if you think it’s nothin’.”
You nod and tip your chin up, watching his eyes. The sun makes the irises look honeyed. You glance away, swallowing down the words burgeoning behind your lips, all the things you want from him and want to say to him.
He shifts. “I’m sure you got other things to get to. Let’s go take a look at your apartment—”
“Wait,” you tighten your hold on his hand. “Not everyone would do what you did. Not everyone would put up with me the way you have. My ex didn’t. He probably made me worse.” You’re so close to him you can feel the sink and rise of his chest, you can feel each deep breath like it's your own. “But you make me better, you make me safe. So just let me say thank you for once.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t let you thank me for doin’ right by you,” he says, stubborn as a bull. “I know you need reminding. But you ain’t work to me. There’s nothin’ wrong with you. I haven’t been putting up with anything. I’d drive down there every damn night if I had to.”
You tilt your cheek into his hand when he cups your jaw. Joel’s eyes are flicking over your face, his expression tense and needful, wanting.
His eyes hook into you, intense and tawny, the breath is punched from your lungs.
Never.
You’ve never felt like this with anyone, like you could be stripped bear, like he could press his hands inside your chest and feel the slick beating of your heart in his palms and everything would still be okay. He’d catch you, he’d shield you, he’d figure out a way to mend you and help you, he’d look at your heart and put it back in your chest even if he wanted to keep it for himself.
When he leans in and kisses you, it feels like fragments of your soul are being pieced back together. Shards of yourself you hadn’t even known were dust reform, shine brighter.
He cradles you to him, the line of your body pressed against his. He’s muscled and soft and broad and so solid. He groans into your mouth, licks into you. There’s possession in the way he holds you, like you’re his and his and his and you always have been.
Joel tastes like coffee, because there’s nothing else he could have tasted like.
He’s so familiar and safe, like sage burning against the night, like a soft place to land in all the ways a person could be.
His other hand splays against your lower back, the tips of his fingers against the waist of your jeans.
When you pull back, lungs aching for air, he presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. His jaw is clenched tight, a muscle jumps in his jaw, like he’s afraid.
“I’m not that skittish,” you say. “I trust you, Joel.”
He opens his eyes, swipes his thumb across your lips. He looks like a man who’s patient, steady hand has finally touched something delicate and rare.
💞 Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#the last of us#pedro pascal#honeyed fic
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Romantic headcanons with lil ol hobie
Absolutely 🫡
Romantic Headcanons with Hobie Brown — ★
I don’t think you guys would go out for dates I think a lot of the time it’s hanging out in each others room
Like he’s strumming his guitar and you’re studying or drawing whatever JUST YES
I think he’d definitely prefer that than taking you out to a fancy restaurant or smth like that
Maybe even movie nights?
Random thought but a little self care night 🤭
Maybe face masks (which he was reluctant to do but you made him anyway), painting each others nails, etc etc
Not really self care but him helping you dye your hair!!! Can’t get that thought out of my head
OMG SHOPPING WITH HIM!! You dragging him shopping and he acts like he doesn’t wanna be there but he actually kinda likes helping you pick out stuff
Don’t even get me started on you making him carry all of your bags or you showing off to him in the dressing room 👀
UGH OMG I HAD A CUTE THOUGHT!! One time he watched you do your makeup and he wanted to learn how to do eye liner
So you taught him one day and he likes doing eye liner every now and again
Maybe you were on his lap and did it for him one day! (He wouldn’t let you do a full face of makeup on him though 😔)
Likes picking out jewelry for your outfits
If you guys are opposites I can see a lot of playful arguments about each others music tastes
He definitely likes at least one song you showed him but wont admit it cause he’s stubborn!
If we’re gonna talk about physical touch I’d say he likes it just definitely not in public
Maybe a hand on your shoulder sometimes but other than that I’m not sure
In private though he’s always leaning his head on your shoulder or putting his head on yours
Likes to tease and make fun of you
Jokingly ofc he’d never let it go too far
He issss in a band so ofc you’re going to almost every performance of his
Veryyy protective when it comes to his job and you
Doesn’t like letting you come to fights with him or trying to help cause he’s terrified you’re going to get hurt
If you’re also a spider person you guys make a rlly good duo
He’s just a really laid back guy in general so he doesn’t raise his voice at you
Maybe on accident a few times but he always apologizes ofc
He’s respectful 🫡
OMG RANDOM BUT NAPPING TOGETHER
WHEWWW imagine you both got done with a fight and you just need to rest so you take a nap together! Or if you’re not a spider person then you both had a hard day and wanted to take a nap together
I don’t think he gets jealous thaaat easily. Like someone would have to be THROWING themselves at you and he’ll step in.
He wouldn’t be starting fights or drama honestly I think he’d just wrap an arm around your waist and walk away with you
I think he’ll go on random tangents about stuff he’s interested in or even abt stuff he doesn’t like 😭
You’re just listening to him like “yeah totally” because he’s talking so fast
He’s proud of your guy’s relationship and he’s caught himself talking about you a lot to his friends
He tries to shut up before they say anything but they’re already teasing him
BUT ID SAY OVERALL he’s just a really chill dude who likes spending time with his partner :)
All I can think of rn so I hope you enjoyed! and ty for all the requests I’ll be working on them all day <3 🫡
#dizzy writes?! 😵💫#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#hobart brown#spiderpunk#spiderpunk x reader#spider man: across the spider verse
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DISCUSSION ABOUT EL’S POTENTIAL ENDING
So Millie has been giving a lot of interviews lately promoting her latest film Damsel, and ofc interviewers have been trying to get some ST5 info out of her. (We all saw that clip where Mlvn got mentioned to her and the face she made lol)
Well there are two new interviews in which Millie talks about El and they are making me kind of nervous…for lack of a better word.
The first is this one…
She was asked what song helps her cry, and she said “when it’s cold I’d like to die” Now that song famously plays every time a character dies on ST, so it wouldn’t be weird for an actor in the show to associate it with sentimental emotions. However, what concerns me a bit is that she mentions that this is “El’s theme” uh??? Since when girl??
The other interview I’ve already seen it floating around so I won’t add a clip, but she was basically asked about whether she knows how it ends for her character. She goes on to say that she asked for a meeting with the Duffers and she saw a board with her character’s fate and went “ohhhh” and slowly walked out.
I’m not gonna lie that answer is not inspiring happiness in me.
I don’t think the Duffers will “traditionally” kill El. In the sense that I don’t think they would fully kill her off (that would be too fucked up). I do wonder if her character will be around after Vecna has lost and the supernatural has gone away, though. Will she somehow disappear after the conflict is gone? Was she part of a bigger allegory or metaphor related to the supernatural plot of the show?
In the original pitch, the Duffers described El and Mike’s relationship as an Elliot and ET bond. ET is an alien, therefore at the end of the movie he has to leave Earth. He can’t stay there with the other characters. Are we gonna see something similar regarding El? She won’t die but maybe she has to go/be somewhere else?
I don’t want to alarm anyone it’s just that I feel like I’m putting some pieces together here lol…
The Duffers also admitted after S2 came out that El was originally written to “die”, as in she was gonna disappear when she took out the demogorgon. However, they changed their minds when the show got renewed for more seasons. Nonetheless, the Duffers have said that their ending for S5 draws inspiration from the ending of S1.
What the hell are they referring to with this???
I’m also aware that Millie is an actress and she’s drumming up suspense for the show. I know she has admitted to lying in interviews just for fun too. Can’t really trust an actor ever, but I do wonder if we’re seeing some truth from her here.
What do you guys think? Any theories?
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Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)
Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother
Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.
"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.
"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.
"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.
You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".
"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.
"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.
"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.
Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.
"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.
"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.
He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills
Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?
If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!
We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!
He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance
Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?
"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.
"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.
.
"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.
Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.
The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.
Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.
Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.
"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.
"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.
"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".
Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.
"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.
"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.
"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.
"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.
Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.
"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.
.
"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.
"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.
"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.
"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.
Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.
"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.
.
"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.
"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.
The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.
"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.
You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.
"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.
"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.
"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.
"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.
Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".
"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.
.
The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.
"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.
Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.
"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.
"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.
"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.
It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.
"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.
"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.
"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.
"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".
#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff
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You’re Losing Me
Summary: Dating a colleague has always been an exhilarating experience. However, as you reach a point where you’re ready to take the relationship further after spending years together, doubts start to creep in. You begin questioning whether you’re the only one putting effort into saving something that seems to be slowly fading away.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!Reader
Warnings: taylor swift’s song “you’re losing me”, angst, fluff, coworker relationship, language, drowning, stabs, injuries, usual criminal minds stuff, use of y/n, lovers to exes to lovers again, not really unrequited love, insecurity, making out, happy ending
Word Count: 7,938 (the longest one shot i’ve written so far…)
Note: It’s been so so so long since I’ve posted anything on here, so enjoy a little Aaron Hotchner one shot! I’m think of writing an Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds series, similar to my Steve Harrington/Stranger Things series, but it may take me a while to finish writing the entire thing. Maybe I’ll write a few chapters and then upload those and write along as I go but I don’t want to do that in case I lose motivation throughout the midst of it. We’ll see what happens! It’s just that I’m super busy but I have such great ideas for this series!
Criminal Minds Masterlist
As the sunlight slowly filtered through the windows, you began to awake from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you gazed at the ceiling and felt the comforting embrace of a pair of arms around your waist. Turning your head, you smiled at the man sleeping beside you and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. After disentangling yourself from his arms, you got out of bed.
Quickly, you took a shower, brushed your teeth, and dressed for the day. Upon leaving the bathroom, you found your boyfriend, Aaron, sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Aaron.” You greeted him.
He looked up with a grin, standing up to meet you. “Morning.” He responded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom himself.
You then entered Jack’s room to wake him up and get him ready for school. Seeing him still asleep, you approached with a gentle touch, waking him with a soft rub on his head. “Jack, sweetie, it’s time to wake up.”
Jack groaned, still half-asleep. “Five more minutes.”
You chuckled, playfully poking his cheek. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be late for school.” Eventually, Jack sat up in bed, and you left his room with a cheeky smile.
Preparing breakfast for your two boys, you heard footsteps down the hall. Setting the plates on the table, you watched as Jack settled into his seat. “Thank you, Y/N! This looks good!”
Nodding, you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before you and Aaron sat down at the table. He reached out to hold your hand as a gesture of thanks, which made your heart flutter with affection.
After bidding Jack farewell and dropping him off at school, you and Aaron began your drive to work. Upon arriving, you entered the office first, as your relationship with Aaron was not public knowledge except to Strauss. You both agreed to keep it quiet to avoid potential workplace issues, though you wouldn’t mind being open about it if the opportunity arose. You weren’t entirely sure how Aaron felt about that.
Sitting at your desk, you watched Aaron make his way upstairs to his office, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention. Your colleagues, Emily, Derek, Elle, Spencer, and JJ, were already at their desks, engaged in friendly chatter while working on their paperwork. You joined in, laughing at Emily and Derek’s playful banter.
At times, you felt the urge to spend more time with Aaron in his office, but you respected his decision to keep your relationship private. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one who truly cared about the relationship. Four years together, and you were eagerly awaiting for him to pop the question. But that seemed to be indefinitely postponed. It sometimes felt like you were the only one putting effort into the relationship.
Fortunately, the entire day turned out to be pleasantly light. With no new cases, the office was buzzing with paperwork and fueled by several cups of coffee. Every so often, Penelope would come over to chat with all of you, as she often felt lonely in her own office. Her presence brought joy, and you always welcomed her with a warm smile, her infectious happiness lifting your spirits.
As the day drew to a close, the office was nearly empty, with only you, Aaron, and Elle remaining on the current floor. Elle grabbed her bag, ready to head out.
“See you tomorrow, Elle.” You called out, waving.
Elle smiled back at you. “You’re leaving right now, right?”
You nodded, turning to your desk to organize your files. “Yep, just need to gather these files and hand them over to Hotch.”
Her eyes shifted to the man in question, who was still seated at his desk in his office. “Does he ever sleep?” Elle asked, furrowing her brows.
Chuckling, you stood up. “I’d like to say yes, but he’s practically a robot.”
Elle hummed, and her gaze returned to you. “Do you want me to wait for you?” She offered.
You widened your eyes slightly, quickly clearing your throat. “Oh, no, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”
“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Elle reassured you, but you waved your hand dismissively.
“No, really. You can go on ahead. I have to ask Hotch a few questions about the paperwork, anyway.”
You noticed a subtle shift in Elle’s eyes, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “Right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She said, bidding you goodbye before making her way to the glass doors and stepping into the elevator.
Feeling a sense of relief, you let out a sigh, almost convinced that Elle had caught on to your and Aaron’s relationship. Shaking your head to dismiss such thoughts, you collected all the files and made your way up to his office, lightly knocking on the door. Aaron’s voice invited you in, prompting you to enter.
As he looked up from his work, his stern expression softened into one of happiness at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but grin, placing the files on his desk. “It’s late, we should get going.”
Furrowing his brows, Aaron checked the time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it got.” He admitted, quickly gathering the files and organizing everything for the next day.
Both of you exited the building and walked to your car. Settling inside, you watched Aaron start the engine and drive off, your mind preoccupied with thoughts. You were contemplating whether to broach the topic of taking your relationship to the next level or even considering making it public. Although you should have felt at ease discussing it with Aaron, anxiety gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly.
Despite knowing Aaron to be the most kind-hearted man you’ve known for years, you couldn’t help but fear his response. You didn’t want this conversation to become a make-or-break moment for your relationship, yet you also couldn’t bear to keep hiding in the shadows any longer.
Arriving at your shared apartment, you both entered, setting your bags down by the door and turning on the lights. With Jack spending the night at Jessica’s, you and Aaron found yourselves alone, creating an opportunity for you to bring up a potentially important conversation.
Deciding to allow yourselves a moment to freshen up and have dinner before broaching the important topic, you wanted to ensure neither of you went to bed hungry in case the conversation didn't go smoothly.
After showering, having dinner, and relaxing, you finally felt ready to initiate the conversation. Throughout the evening, you sensed Aaron’s eyes on you, and it was time for him to ask what was bothering you.
“You’ve been tense all night.” Aaron observed, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the couch. “Is something wrong?”
Your mind raced through different approaches to the problem, but you still didn’t feel fully prepared as you began to respond to his question. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
He arched an eyebrow, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Care to share?”
With a tight-lipped smile, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. “Have you ever considered...making our relationship public?”
As soon as the words left your mouth, Aaron’s arms dropped from your shoulder. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, dreading his response.
“Aaron?” You anxiously waited for his answer, but he fell silent, trying to find the right words to respond to you. “Can you please say something?”
Aaron’s face tightened with hesitation as he tried to find the right words to respond to your question. He glanced away, unable to meet your eyes directly, and sighed heavily. “I...I haven’t really thought about going public.” He finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Our relationship has always been private, and it’s been working for us. I’m afraid of how things might change if we make it public.”
Your heart sank, sensing the reluctance in his response. “But Aaron, we’ve been together for so long, and I’m tired of just hiding our relationship. I want to be with you openly, without constantly worrying about keeping it a secret.” You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I know that.” Aaron said, his voice softening. “But we both know how the nature of our work is. If our relationship becomes public, it could jeopardize everything we’ve built here. I can’t risk that, especially for Jack’s sake.”
Frustration and sadness engulfed you, and you felt a surge of emotions welling up inside. “So, you’re choosing your job and keeping up appearances over us? Over me?” You exclaimed, your voice quivering with hurt.
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just not that simple.” Aaron replied, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away.
“Then enlighten me, Aaron. What do you mean? Because maybe it’s not simple for you, but it is for me.” You said firmly, your heart breaking. “I can’t keep living like this. I deserve better than this, Aaron.”
He looked torn, his eyes reflecting his own pain. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
“But you’re not willing to fight for us.” You responded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Tell me, Aaron. Did you even plan on marrying me?”
His silence spoke louder than words, and it was all you needed to get your answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and your heart shattered in less than two minutes, your fears coming true. The pain of realization washed over you, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.
You desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, to find comfort in the familiarity of your relationship. But deep down, you knew that settling for someone who didn’t put effort into the relationship wasn’t right for you. You deserved someone who cherished and valued you, someone who saw a future with you and was willing to fight for it.
“Looks like you’ve already lost me.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You hastily wiped away your tears, determined not to break down completely. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you avoided Aaron’s gaze as you walked away, trying to maintain some composure. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
The realization that the love of your life might not have felt the same way about you as you thought shattered your heart into pieces. You couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship that made you feel worthless.
What made it even more painful was that Aaron had always been the kindest man you had ever known. He had made you feel loved, supported, and cared for, especially during your lowest moments. However, now, you couldn’t help but question everything.
“Dad?” Jack spoke, catching his father’s attention as he helped put his backpack on. “When is Y/N coming back?”
It had been a week since you and Aaron broke up, and the impact of the decision weighed heavily on both of you. In the aftermath, you moved out of Aaron’s apartment, leaving behind the memories of a once loving relationship. Aaron struggled with the reality that you weren’t living with him anymore. He had tried to apologize and convince you to reconsider, but you remained firm in your decision. You believed that taking some time and space apart was essential for both of you to figure out what you truly wanted.
“I’m not sure, buddy.” Aaron replied to Jack with a gentle smile, masking the turmoil within his heart. “Y/N needed some time to think about things, and we both agreed it was best to take some space for now.”
Jack frowned, sensing that something significant had changed. He missed having you around, and it was hard for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But he trusted his father and hoped that things would work out for the best.
Despite your desire for space, maintaining it was extremely challenging when you had to work together. Nevertheless, you were grateful that the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice any change in your demeanor towards each other. You made a concerted effort to act as you always did while on the job, which wasn’t too difficult, considering you had always portrayed your relationship as strictly professional, pretending to know each other only as coworkers.
Aaron despised himself for not being open and honest with you that night, for jeopardizing the relationship you had built over the years. He loved you deeply, and the thought of marrying you had crossed his mind countless times. However, fear had gripped his heart. The pain of losing Haley had left him hesitant about committing to another relationship, and he believed he could never truly move on. Yet, you had always supported him throughout that challenging time. Your constant presence by his side, understanding, and care had gradually allowed him to let go of his fears. Before he knew it, he had become deeply attached to you, and his love for you had grown immeasurably.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you that he didn’t want anyone to know about your relationship. Instead, Aaron feared that making it public might endanger you, given the high-stakes nature of their work and the potential risks involved. He wanted to protect you from any repercussions that might arise if their personal relationship were exposed in the often dangerous and unpredictable world they worked in. Although it pained him to keep your love hidden, he believed it was a necessary precaution to keep you safe. After Haley, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.
Now, he felt utterly foolish. Regret washed over him as he realized he should have communicated with you more openly, explaining why he felt the way he did instead of leaving you to question his love. The pain of knowing that you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that you believed he was ashamed of you, weighed heavily on his heart.
He wished he could turn back time and find the courage to share his fears and concerns with you, to let you know just how much he loves and values you. The thought of causing you any hurt had never been his intention, but he had failed in expressing himself clearly.
The team sat aboard the private jet, en route to your destination for a new case that demanded your immediate attention. Three homicides, spread across different cities, all linked by a hauntingly similar MO. The victims shared connections that hinted at a calculated pattern, but local law enforcement had hit a dead end, prompting the call for FBI assistance.
Aaron and you purposefully chose seats away from each other, not wanting to add any awkwardness to the already tense situation. As the team delved further into the case, everyone meticulously examined the evidence within the case files.
You scanned through the disturbing details, striving not to let any grimace betray your inner emotions. Over the years, you had grown accustomed to such gruesome cases that it took an emotional toll on even the most seasoned profilers. Yet, you knew that suppressing your emotions was essential to focus on the task at hand.
“Morgan, Prentiss, and Elle, I want you three to check the latest victim’s crime scene and look for anything new. Reid, JJ, and L/N, I need you to head to the coroner’s office and examine the autopsy reports.” Aaron said, making brief eye contact with you for a second before turning his attention back to the team. “Rossi and I will head to the precinct to talk to the local PD and settle in.”
As soon as the jet landed, you, JJ, and Spencer swiftly made your way to one of the BAU SUVs and drove to the coroner’s office to examine the bodies. You were driving the car, while JJ was in the passenger seat, and Spencer was sitting in the back. You conversed with the other two throughout the entire drive, Spencer spitting his genius facts every now and then.
Once you made it inside, the three of you were greeted by the coroner, who led you to the room where the bodies were laid out. Carefully examining the wounds on the victims, you couldn’t help but notice something intriguing. “They’ve all been stabbed exactly twenty times, each stab in a different part of the body.” You stated, glancing at JJ and Spencer for their input. “This was rage.”
Spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concentration. “The repetitive nature of the stab wounds indicates an intense emotional release, possibly stemming from deep-seated anger or frustration.”
JJ nodded in agreement, her empathy guiding her understanding of the crime scene. “Maybe the unsub had a personal vendetta against the victims, and he was trying to send a message with the way he’s stabbed them.”
Spencer couldn’t help but share one of his characteristic and oddly fascinating facts. “Did you know that throughout history, the number twenty has often been associated with completeness and cycles? It’s interesting that the unsub chose this specific number.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating the possibility. “Or maybe the number twenty was important to him? It could hold some significance to the unsub, and he chose it to exert control or leave a twisted signature on the victims.”
JJ nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the shared curiosity. “It’s definitely not uncommon for unsubs to attach meaning to their actions or rituals. The number twenty might be a representation of something personal or symbolic to him.”
Spencer’s eyes lit up, adding on to you and JJ. “Numerology has been linked to criminal behavior in certain cases. The choice of numbers might reflect the unsub’s belief in its power or its alignment with his twisted motives.”
As you carefully examined the stab wounds on the victims’ lifeless bodies, a particular detail caught your attention. There was an absence of significant bleeding around the wound sites. The wounds appeared uniform in depth and angle, lacking the telltale signs of hemorrhage typically associated with antemortem stabbings.
You turned to the coroner with a furrowed brow. “These stab wounds...they seem different from typical antemortem injuries. Is there any indication that the victims might have been submerged in water before the stabbing?”
The coroner paused, considering your observation. “Well, we did find traces of water in the airways and lungs of all the victims during the autopsies.” The coroner replied. “It’s possible they were drowned before the stabbings occurred.”
“He’s drowning them and then stabbing them?” JJ questioned, her arms crossed against her chest. “What about signs of sexual assault?”
The coroner shook her head. “There were no signs of sexual assault in the report.”
Spencer chimed in, his gaze intense. “It’s possible that this unsub’s violent ritual provides him with a sense of release. The act of drowning the victims may serve as a form of control or domination, followed by the symbolic significance of twenty stabs, and perhaps linked to a personal obsession or fixation.”
You added to Spencer’s insight. “The number twenty might hold significant meaning to him, reinforcing the notion that these killings are deeply personal and methodically planned.”
JJ looked troubled, contemplating the unsettling pattern before you. “If he’s targeting the victims like this, he might have a connection to them. Something in their past could be triggering this cycle of violence.”
You nodded your head, your gaze remaining fixated on the lifeless forms. “Let’s head back and meet with the others.”
The three of you met up with the rest of the team at the precinct, where you all gathered around the crime board, sharing your findings and insights from the investigations. As each detail was added to the board, the case started to take shape, revealing disturbing connections and patterns.
Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but sense Aaron’s occasional glances in your direction. Part of you hoped he would approach you and start a conversation, maybe even attempt to mend what was broken between you both. Yet, another part of you felt a tinge of relief that he hadn’t approached you, as facing him would only reopen the wounds that were still raw.
It had only been a week since the painful breakup, and you found yourself torn between wanting to be understood and yearning for his apologies, and the need to protect yourself from further heartache. The longing for him to realize his mistakes, coupled with the desire to put the pieces of your life back together, weighed heavily on your emotions.
You also couldn’t help but miss Jack dearly. Saying goodbye to him before you left had been one of the hardest moments, knowing that he couldn’t fully comprehend the reasons behind your departure. The memories of the mornings you spent with him, preparing breakfast and engaging in playful moments, tugged at your heartstrings. You had cherished those moments, but you knew that staying in an emotionally draining situation wouldn’t be fair to either of you.
At the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on the entire team, the toll of the stressful investigation demanding a much-needed rest. However, they were confident in the amount of evidence gathered, giving them a solid foundation to construct a profile when they regrouped.
Reaching the hotel, the team bid each other farewell, knowing they’d reconvene in the morning to continue the investigation. You let out a weary sigh as you entered your room, eager to collapse onto your bed. Shutting the door behind you, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace. Without delay, you made your way to the bathroom, seeking to refresh yourself after the intense day.
Emerging from the shower, you felt more relaxed. After brushing your teeth, you slipped into comfortable sleepwear, embracing the coziness that enveloped you.
As you were about to settle into your bed, there was a knock on your door. Confusion washed over you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. Walking cautiously to the door, you peered through the peephole and let out a soft sigh upon recognizing Aaron’s familiar face.
You opened the door, raising an eyebrow, giving him the signal to speak. His nervous demeanor was uncharacteristic of the stoic Aaron Hotchner, who rarely showed any signs of anxiety.
“Can I come in?” He asked, and a part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his request, but you held back your emotions. Suppressing a disgruntled noise, you opened the door wider, allowing him to enter your room.
Aaron wasted no time, quickly stepping inside as if he feared you might change your mind and shut the door on him. His uneasiness was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to seek you out in this vulnerable state.
With the door closed, you faced him, waiting for an explanation as to why he had come to your room at this late hour. “How are you?” He questioned, and you almost scoffed.
“What do you need?” You asked instead, completely ignoring his question.
His heart twinged with pain when he heard your voice, sensing the coldness in your tone, a reflection of the hurt he had caused. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, determined to make things right. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I hated how things ended between us, and if I could turn back time, I would do so in a heartbeat just so I wouldn’t be the one who broke your heart.”
Your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, and he could see the struggle behind your eyes as you fought back tears. The mere week of separation had been agonizing, making him yearn for your presence more than ever. He longed to hold you in his arms again, to kiss you like they had for the past four years. But he understood that he couldn’t expect you to forgive him so easily.
“Jack misses you.” He continued, his voice laced with regret. “He asks for you every day, wondering if you’ll come back. It breaks my heart each time he does.” Your heart ached for the little boy, whom you had grown to cherish as your own. “And I miss you too, more than I can put into words. I’m willing to do anything and everything to fix things.”
Your gaze locked with his, and he saw the emotions swirling within you. “Aaron, I don’t know.” You began, and he felt his heart drop, fearing your answer. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again? You’re only saying this because you realized what you had after you lost me.”
He shook his head, almost reaching for your hands but stopping himself, respecting the space you needed. “No, that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Yes, I was an absolute idiot, but I’m not just saying this because I realized what I had after I lost you. You mean the world to me, and I love you. If you just let me show you that I won’t make the same mistake ever again. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and it was never my intention to hide you away. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.” His voice was filled with sincerity, pleading for another chance to prove his love and commitment to you.
You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. “Aaron, I think I need some time.” You said, truthfully. “I just need some space to figure out what I truly want. Throughout all these years, I’ve longed for you to prioritize us, but it never happened. Maybe I was too naive to believe it ever would.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, avoiding the pained look on his face. “I love you, too, but I can’t ignore the fact that I wanted you to put me first, instead of this job, and to consider a future together. I wanted to get married, but I don’t think you felt the same.”
He was about to say something, but you held up a finger, needing to continue.
“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t marry myself either.” You confessed softly. “I’ve spent so much time trying to please everyone, especially you. It’s been exhausting, trying to be the perfect girlfriend or even a future wife, when it felt like I was the only one making an effort. I sent you countless signals, hoping you’d notice, but it seemed like you didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in our relationship.”
You let out a deep breath, relieved to have finally expressed your thoughts that had been brewing for months. Opening your eyes, you looked at Aaron, and his broken appearance tugged at your heartstrings. You longed to turn his frown into a smile, to fix everything, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.
“You’re wrong.” He finally spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening intently. “Of course I wanted to marry you.” He continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I was just too scared.”
“Scared of what?” You asked softly, urging him to open up.
“Of losing you, though it seems like I already did.” He said, a sad chuckle escaping his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “After Haley, I never thought I would be capable of falling in love again. I had built walls around my heart, convinced it was safer that way. But then you were always there for me and I let myself fall for you, and it scared me.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and continued. “I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger because of this job, just like I did with Haley and Jack. I blamed myself for her death, and I didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why I kept our relationship hidden. I was afraid it would expose you to unnecessary risks.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession. “Aaron.” You said, your voice filled with empathy. “You didn’t have to carry all that burden alone. We could have faced it together.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know, and I should have trusted us more. But my fear consumed me, and I made a terrible mistake by pushing you away.”
You walked closer and reached out to gently touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt to be kept in the dark. We could have faced those fears together as a team, just like we always do in these cases.”
“I know, and I wish I had the strength to open up to you sooner.” He whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’m so sorry.”
You leaned your forehead against his, savoring the closeness between you. Bringing your free hand to touch his other cheek, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. “This could have gone so differently if you had opened up to me, Aaron.” You whispered, looking into his eyes with sincerity. “But I still think we need some time apart. Just for a little bit.”
He closed his eyes, absorbing your words, and then nodded his head. “I know, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t oppose it.”
“Okay.” You whispered back, feeling a mix of sadness and hope in your heart. He stepped back, giving you a soft smile, before he turned to walk towards the door. “Wait.” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, and without hesitation, you gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was a tender, lingering kiss, full of unspoken emotions. He held onto your hands, cherishing the brief moments of the kiss, until you finally let go. “Goodnight.” You murmured, your voice tinged with both affection and uncertainty.
He looked dazed, as if he were in some sort of dream, processing the intensity of the moment. He tried his best to speak, finally managing a quiet “Goodnight” before he turned and left your room.
The next day, the team gathered at the precinct, ready to delve into the evidence with fresh eyes after sleeping. However, it was a restless night for both you and Aaron. Sleep seemed elusive as you tossed and turned, your mind consumed with thoughts of everything Aaron had said. Meanwhile, Aaron found himself replaying the kiss you shared before he left, and he couldn’t shake the weight of your words and emotions regarding your relationship and his actions.
After a few hours of relentless effort, Penelope’s expertise paid off, and she managed to uncover a name and address for the unsub. Putting on your bulletproof vests, the team raced to the SUVs, determined to catch the dangerous individual before he could harm anyone else.
Arriving at the address, you were met with an empty house. The unsub was nowhere to be seen, so you scanned the surroundings for any possible clues. Aaron spoke up, his voice firm. “We need to find any leads, any hints on where he might keep his victims.”
The team split up, meticulously combing through the scene, searching for any shred of evidence that could provide a much-needed breakthrough. The tension was palpable, knowing that every moment counted in preventing further tragedy.
As you examined the area, some of the photos on the wall caught your eye. The pictures consisted of different landscapes, however, when you looked more closely, the pictures seemed to be connected despite it being in separate frames. You called the team over and examined the photos, sending them over to Penelope to help find the location.
Penelope’s voice came through on the comms, her excitement evident. “Guys, I think I’ve found something. The pictures seem to be at a park near the house! I’m sending you the address now!”
As soon as you got the address, you raced out of the house and back into the waiting SUVs, speeding towards the destination. Upon arriving at the location, you split into groups. You, Elle, and Emily formed a team, eyes fixed on the abandoned warehouse nearby. Silently, you pointed towards the building, an unspoken agreement passing between you. You slowly and quietly walked, guns at the ready as you approached the structure.
You skillfully maneuvered around the back, while Elle and Emily advanced with their guns and flashlight inside, searching the shadows for any traces of the unsub. As you searched the back and began to think it was clear, you suddenly felt a forceful grip clamp over your mouth, muffling any sound you might have made. Before you could react, a sharp impact hit your head, sending you reeling into temporary darkness.
As you gradually regained consciousness, your surroundings came into focus, and panic washed over you at the sight of the unsub standing before you. Fear pulsed through your veins as you realized you were weaponless and vulnerable. His sinister laughter sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you had to act fast.
His sadistic grin filled you with dread as he taunted you, relishing the power he held over you. Every instinct urged you to escape, but he had already restrained you with a cruel grip, leaving you little room to maneuver. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you desperately scanned your surroundings for any possible means of escape.
As terror surged through your veins, you realized you were next to a lake. The sight of its dark waters filled you with dread, as you knew the unsub intended to use it against you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you drew upon every ounce of strength you possessed, mustering a deafening scream in hopes that your team would hear you.
But the unsub was swift as well. Before you could make a move, he forcefully plunged you into the icy water. The coldness was shocking, stealing your breath away as he held you submerged. Panic surged through you as you fought against his unyielding grasp, struggling to resurface for air.
Despite your efforts, he held you down, with no chance of escape. Each time you managed to rise, gasping for breath, he mercilessly forced you back into the depths, determined to drown you just like all the other victims.
As darkness threatened to consume you, your mind raced with thoughts of your team. You wondered if they were close, if they could hear your cries for help, and if they would find you in time. You didn’t even know if they were nearby or if the unsub took you to a different location while you were knocked out. The uncertainty only deepened your desperation, as you clung to the hope that rescue was on its way.
As you struggled to hold on, your strength waned, and you found yourself slipping away, succumbing to the relentless pressure of the unsub’s grip. Helplessly, you surrendered to the suffocating darkness that surrounded you. That’s when a sudden, deafening gunshot pierced the air, tearing through the silence.
In the blink of an eye, the unsub’s hold on you loosened, and you were released from his grasp. He tumbled into the water, gone with a well-aimed bullet through his head. Aaron dropped his gun and leaped into the water without hesitation, desperately reaching for your lifeless form before it could go any deeper.
Emerging from the water’s grasp, Aaron clutched you tightly in his arms as the rest of the team rushed to assist. His heart raced with panic, his mind consumed by the fear of losing you. You were unresponsive, your eyes closed, and the once rhythmic rise and fall of your chest had ceased. Time seemed to stand still as he began chest compressions and performed CPR, his every action fueled by a desperation to revive you.
He had tears streaming down his face and his voice trembled with emotion as he begged you to fight, to come back to him. He refused to accept that this could be the end, that he might lose the person he loved with his entire heart once again. The rest of the team looked on, their hearts heavy with concern, but also filled with hope as they witnessed Aaron’s efforts to bring you back.
Derek kneeled beside Aaron, gripping his shoulders with urgency as he tried to intervene. “Hotch! Stop! Let someone else take over!” He yelled, attempting to divert his attention.
But Aaron was relentless, his focus solely on you. He brushed Derek’s hands aside, determination etched across his face. “I won’t stop until she’s awake.” He declared, resuming his life-saving efforts without a second thought. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he continued to administer CPR.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you coughed and sputtered, water escaping from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to find your breath. Aaron’s arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, holding you close as you fought to regain your composure.
“Oh, thank God.” Emily breathed, her hand pressed against her chest, relief washing over her after the initial fear.
Aaron released his hold on you, and Derek immediately enveloped you in a tight embrace. “Babygirl, you scared all of us.” He murmured, still feeling shaken by the close call. Elle, not one to be left out, quickly shoved Derek away and hugged you with genuine concern.
“We should’ve never let you go out there by yourself.” Elle expressed, feeling guilty that they had split up. “I’m so sorry.”
Emily, kneeling beside you, placed a reassuring hand on your back. “We should’ve gone together.”
You shook your head, offering a small smile to your caring teammates. “Stop blaming yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen. At least I’m okay now.”
“Yeah, but you were dead for a few minutes.” Emily retorted with a scoff, still grappling with the shock of the situation.
You understood their concern, but you also knew that in their line of work, these moments were unfortunately part of the job. You reassured them. “I’m alright now, thanks to all of you.” And Aaron. You thought. You locked eyes with him, offering a reassuring smile. Though he didn’t return the smile, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes, telling you how grateful he was that you were still alive.
The EMT’s thoroughly checked you over, ensuring there were no other injuries, and concluded that you were fine. You sat at the back of the ambulance, swinging your legs back and forth, absently touching the bandage on your forehead where the unsub had hit you.
As you looked around, you saw the scene filled with law enforcement personnel. The unsub’s lifeless body was being carried away on a gurney, wrapped in a white sheet. A mix of relief and anger washed over you. Relief that he could no longer harm anyone else, and anger that he had taken the easy way out, escaping true justice.
Turning to your right, you noticed Aaron glancing back at you from time to time. Summoning some courage, you raised a hand and waved at him. This time, he smiled. A small yet genuine gesture that warmed your heart. Derek, ever the observant one, caught the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. Playfully, he nudged Aaron on the shoulder, urging him to talk to you. Aaron, true to his stoic self, gave Derek a brief glare, which only made Derek raise his hands in surrender, laughing as he watched his boss walk away.
Aaron’s voice softened as he spoke, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
You smiled, appreciating his caring nature. “I’m fine, Aaron.” Patting the spot next to you, you invited him to sit, and he obliged. Turning to face him, you brought your legs up to your chest. “Thank you for saving me.”
He shook his head, gazing up at the sky. “Don’t thank me. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His eyes met yours, and you could see the tears welling up. “I should’ve been there to protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”
You reached out to touch his cheek, trying to console him. “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I made the choice to check the back alone while Elle and Emily went inside. The blame lies solely on the unsub. Please, don’t carry that burden on yourself.” As he attempted to hold your hand, you pulled away slightly, causing his heart to ache. You were aware of your team’s eyes on you and didn’t want to fuel any rumors.
“Sorry, they might see us.” You explained.
He scoffed, refusing to let go of your hands. “I don’t care if they see us. It would be a miracle if they didn’t suspect anything. I was going insane while trying to save your life.”
“Aaron–”
“I want everyone to know about us. I don’t care anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I will not let you go. You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry for everything.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Seeing you out there, not breathing, holding your lifeless body in my arms...I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do if you were gone. I love you, Y/N. And I will love you until the day I die.”
At his heartfelt words, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You pressed your lips firmly against his, cupping his face with your hands. He held onto your hands, responding with passion and intensity. The week had been long and stressful, but with Aaron finally admitting he didn’t care who saw you together, you embraced the moment, cherishing the love you shared with the man you couldn’t imagine living without.
You pulled away slightly, looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you too.”
“Marry me.” Aaron said, his voice filled with sincerity.
The shock registered on your face, mouth agape. “What?” You asked, your heart pounding.
“Okay, this wasn’t the way I planned on proposing to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Will you marry me?”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “I don’t see a ring anywhere.”
He rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “The ring’s hidden in my desk drawer at the office. I was waiting for the right time to propose, but I can’t wait any longer.”
Your eyes softened, and your heart warmed at his sweet gesture. “You bought a ring?”
Aaron nodded, gently kissing your hands. “I told you, I wanted to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, trying to contain your emotions. “Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I will marry you.” You said, a mixture of excitement and love in your voice.
He grinned, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You will?” He whispered.
“Yes, a million times yes.” You replied, your heart soaring at the prospect of spending your life with the man you loved.
With that, Aaron pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss. The world around you faded away, and all that mattered was the promise of a future together, as partners in both love and life.
“Did you guys really think we didn’t know you two were together all this time?” Rossi questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as the team sat together on the jet, heading home after a successful case. “We aren’t profilers for nothing.”
Aaron rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork spread out on the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the lighthearted teasing. Finally feeling content in your life, you leaned back in your seat, feeling the warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.
“It’s true.” Spencer chimed in with a smile. “We always knew you two were dating, but we didn’t say anything because you thought we didn’t know. It’s pretty funny, considering all the looks you give each other when–”
“Reid.” Aaron interrupted, cutting off the young genius before he could go further. The team stifled a laugh as Spencer mumbled out a quick “Sorry,” a sheepish smile on his face, and returned to his book.
JJ grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Hotch. We’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and the way Y/N looks back.”
Elle nodded, adding her own insight. “Yeah, it was kind of adorable watching you two try to keep it a secret.”
You exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “Well, I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.” You admitted, a smile tugging at your lips.
His lips threatened to curl up into a smile, and you noticed it, playfully bumping your shoulders against his. He tried to maintain his composure, looking away and focusing his attention back on the paperwork, but his mind seemed to betray him as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
You couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at seeing that smile, knowing that you were the one who could bring it out in him. He was the tough and stoic leader to everyone else, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open.
The rest of the team had amused grins on their faces, watching the two of you with knowing looks. Their usual boss, who rarely showed any emotion, appeared so content and happy whenever you were around. It was a sight they cherished, seeing the man they respected and admired, smile genuinely because of you.
As the night grew on, everyone on the jet was asleep, but you and Aaron were still awake. You laid your head on Aaron’s shoulder, your hand clasped with one of his, as he continued looking through the paperwork. It was a habit for him to bury himself in work, even during quiet moments like this.
You gently nudged the papers away, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Stop, you need to sleep.”
“You need to sleep, too.” He whispered, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender gesture.
You sighed softly, giving him a determined look. “Okay, but you have to stop this. You can look at these when we get back, but for now, you need rest.”
A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Anything for you.”
You gladly kissed him back, feeling a rush of warmth and love for this man. His dedication to his job and his team was commendable, but you also wanted him to take care of himself. He deserved rest and peace, especially after the intense case and the events of the day.
You settled into a comfortable position, still holding each other’s hands, and let the gentle hum of the jet lull you both to sleep. In each other’s arms, you felt a sense of comfort that reassured you, everything had a way of falling into place as it was meant to be.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#criminal minds#criminal minds oneshot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fanfiction#angst#fluff#oneshot#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader
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🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【 薄幸な恋人 】 ⛦
summ✩ry While collabing with your girl group and Enhypen for a special stage, forbidden feelings spark between you and the main dancer upon dorming together
p✩iring idol!niki x popstar!reader ✩ requested ✩
-> PART 2 HERE
genre band au, fluff, secret romance cw swearing, mild bullying, the word ‘sexy’ like once, kissing, girl drama, reader is younger than Niki wc 4.4k
“Ugh,” Serenity groaned as the hairstylist applied yet another thick layer of chocolate brown hair dye to her scalp.
“This gig better bring in some serious bank, because never in my life would I willingly collab with those overrated wannabes,” she exclaimed, taking a frustrated sip from her vanilla latte.
“Hey, people used to call us wannabe's, too, you know,” Haerin said quietly as she tucked her hands under the UV light.
“Yeah, you should be more mature about this, Serenity... like I always say, professionalism triumphs pride," you added, only half-engaged in the conversation as a certain online article caught your attention.
As the band leader, you were always in charge of everything, so Serenity and Haerin were used to you talking to them this way...
“I’m just glad that we're getting exposure,” Haerin smiled, thinking of the countless nights you and your group spent practicing routines and writing songs for auditions, "it's not often that artists like us get opportunity's to perform internationally."
“For real,” Serenity cheered, “Riot Grrlz for the win!”
The three of you put your hands out to make a circle, “Riot Grrlz for life,” Haerin exclaimed, forgetting that her nails hadn't fully dried yet.
"Whoops," she giggled, just as Jade, the oldest of your group, made her way from the bathroom.
“What took you so long in there?” Serenity asked cheekily, “I thought we were gonna have to call the fire department.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Jade returned, taking a seat beside Haerin so she could get her nails done, too.
“You were talking to the enemy, weren’t you,” Serenity accused.
“No, Ren, I didn’t go behind your back and sell my soul to the devil for fame.”
“Not that enemy,” Serenity grinned, “I'm talking about Mr. Six Foot Moon Eyes.”
“Oooooo,” Haerin amused, pulling your attention away from your phone.
“Ugh, let it up guys. My crush on Sunghoon is long gone, especially now that we’re gonna be working together. Besides, I would never act so recklessly over romance.”
“Who said anything about reckless romance,” you teased, unintentionally giving Jade a full view of the article your were reading on your phone.
"Nobody,” she began, “but I’m surprised you even heard that over all your internet-stalking.”
You were scrolling through a K-Pop news feed when you came across a post.
It was titled: "Enhypen Rumored By Netizens To Be Collabing With THIS Rookie Western Girl Group."
"Shush," you whisper-yelled at Jade, "unless you’re trying to get our record deals pulled!"
Just last week, your management team made you and your group sign a contract of secrecy, swearing silence regarding unpublicized business projects and associations: this included your upcoming collab with Enhypen that Jade nearly just spoiled.
Although, in all honesty, the blog's use of the word "rookie" bothered you more than potentially breaking any contract rules.
"Relax, boss, it's practically a ghost town in here," Jade defended, drawing your attention to the near vacant salon space.
Ding.
It was an email from your manager.
He wanted to inform you all that your chauffeur would be ready around 2:45am to bring you guys to the airport.
"Jeez," you mumbled to yourself, "looks like I'm not getting much sleep tonight."
“Shit,” Serenity whined, “I haven’t even made enough time to brush up on my Korean yet!”
“Luckily me and Haerin here are bilingual baddies,” Jade giggled, giving the cat-eyed girl a fist punch.
“Ahh, watch my nails!!”
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Your company's fashion crew was experimenting with different concepts, assigning each of your members an individual color to permanently represent: Serenity was teal, Jade was purple, Haerin was white, and you were pink.
Some time passed, an you and your group arrived in South Korea around 3:00pm.
Thanks to the fashion tech your management team hired, it wasn't obvious that you and the girls had been in and out of sleep for the past 13 hours.
You couldn't help but stalk the headlines about your group, as rumors about your Enhypen collab continued to spread like wildfire.
So much for swearing silence and secrecy, you thought to yourself.
South Korean pop media had already seemed to build a vendetta against your group, given that you were young, talented, and most importantly, from the states. The xenophobia of most K-netizens was disheartening at best, but you understood that hate was a part of success.
Besides, you were living the dream of many engenes at the moment — most of them would sell their siblings to be in your shoes right now.
“Ahh! This is unreal!!” Jade cheered excitedly in the back of the limousine. You guys had just left the airport around thirty minutes ago, after getting past the pesky crowd of paparazzi.
“I know right? Korean McNuggets slap way harder than back home,” Haerin added while munching on the salty snack.
“Don't get too comfy, Rinnie. We will leave you here,” Serenity joked.
You hadn't even realized the radio was playing until a certain guitar riff blared from the ceiling speakers.
"Oh hell no," Serenity immediately cringed, covering her ears as you, Jade, and Haerin exchanged knowing look, bringing imaginary microphones to your mouths in unison.
It was Enhypen's song Blessed-Cursed, Jay’s voice singing "We go!" over the radio.
"Go, go, go, go, go, go, GO!!" The three of you cheered, obnoxiously dancing to the choreo while sitting.
Memories of your group (minus Serenity) binge watching music videos at sleepovers resurfaced in your mind.
Usually, you'd only listen to throwback hits like Britney Spears or Rihanna, mostly because Rnb and Pop beats inspired your own art.
Still and all, Blessed-Cursed was one video that the three of you fell in love, way before your upcoming collab was even a thought.
"Don't get mad when I start recording you clowns," Serenity threatened, thoroughly amused by your behavior.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Upon arriving outside the Hybe Building, a trio of body guards guided you and your girls to an office room where the seven boys stood awkwardly around a large table.
Part of you still couldn't believe this was all actually happening, despite it being right in front of you.
“Hello! We are Enhypen,” Jungwon bowed as the guards exited the room.
Jay visibly cringed at his leaders words, “I promise we were told to introduce ourselves like that. Please don’t judge us.”
“Well, uhm… H-hi,” you stuttered, feeling a bit nervous, “We are the Riot Grrlz. It’s a pleasure being able to work with you all.”
Niki, the tallest of the boys, caught your attention immediately as he greeted you with a peace sign.
Was he always this cute?, you thought to yourself.
That’s when a lady dressed in all black barged through the glass door on the other side of the room.
“Sorry to interrupt… well, not really. Me and the Enhypen boys are already well familiar with each other, but you ladies can call me Kim,” she greeted, waltzing into the office as if owning the place.
She was a fast talker, so you knew you’d have to pay attention to what she was saying or else you might miss something.
“I hope you made use of each others time and gathered everyone’s names? Phone numbers?”
”We were just in the middle of that before you came in, Miss Kim,” Sunoo clarified.
“Very well then. You have a total of 15 minutes to lock in dorming arrangements. As you’ll see on this clipboard here…”
She paused mid-sentence, holding the clipboard dumbly.
“God, can one of you take this thing already?”
“Oh- sorry,” Heeseung chuckled nervously, taking the clipboard from the fiery woman.
“As I was saying, there are four rooms for the eleven of you to somehow divide. And no, just because you’re all hormonal young adults, none of you get a free pass to break the no-dating rule.”
“No-dating rule? What is this, a detention center,” Serenity mumbled.
Kim cleared her throat, feigning a smile as she glared at Serenity with narrowed eyes, “This is a place of utmost professionalism, Princess Land of The Free. If you have a problem adhering to the rules in place here, you are more than welcome to leave.”
“A-and after that? The fifteen minutes, I mean,” Haerin blurted out shyly.
“All of you will meet back in the main lobby, where you will be guided accordingly.”
Miss Kim turned of her black boots, beelining to the door with powerful strides, “The timer starts now” she called out, closing the door behind her.
And with that began your group discussion of rooming arrangements. Unfortunately, though, things didn’t get off to a particularly nice start.
“Are you effing kidding me?” Serenity asked rudely, screwing her eyes toward a now annoyed Heeseung, “Why can't we just get separate hotel rooms?!?”
“Look, there's no perfect way to go about this," he sighed, crossing out the roommate pairs you all had just agreed on. "So you either humble yourself, or sleep in the bathtub for the next two weeks."
“Really guys, the math is simple,” Jake started, “There’s eleven of us and only four rooms to choose from. Nine of us will be divided in groups of three, and the remaining two will share the last room together.”
"Cool! Me, ____, and Jade can share the first room together!" Haerin obliged with a smile.
"Perfect, and where will I go?" Serenity questioned, mocking Haerin's excitement.
"The bathtub, right?" Jay teased, provoking Serenity to argue with him.
Meanwhile, you attempted to make peace with everyone willing to listen, “Guys, I agree with Jake. We need to make a decision quickly before Kim gets back.”
“Right. Everyone in favor of room number 1, provide a show of hands,” Heeseung said, Jay and Jake raising their hands with him.
"And for room 2?" Jungwon initiated, raising his hand with Jade and Haerin.
A pout formed on Jade's face once she realized that Sunghoon wasn't in the same pair as her.
"3's the magic number, I guess…" Sunghoon offered, Serenity raising her hand with him.
Now it was just you, Sunoo, and Niki remaining.
"I'll group with 3, too. All of our name's start with "S," so it just makes sense that way," Sunoo joined shyly.
"Welp, now that leaves the final room for me and..."
"Me..." Niki spoke with a deep voice, flashing a mysterious half-smile-half-smirk that you knew would haunt your mind later.
"Me and me... the odd one's out! Wow, that's actually perfect!" Jake cheered just as the lady in black strut back in.
“Times up,” she said, taking the clipboard from Heeseung to analyze the finalized dorming plans.
“Hmm, interesting,” she mumbled to herself, tucking the clipboard under her arm.
You all made your way down to the main lobby, just as Kim instructed.
One of the security guards mentioned that Hybe suggested a dinner outing for your group and Enhypen as a way to end the night before you started work the next day… or maybe it was mostly a way to officially confirm the rumors about your collab.
Upon arriving, everyone sat at separate tables, divided according to who they agreed to room with.
Although Niki seemed quiet at first, you and him were giggling the babies the entire time you ate.
“Poor Jungwon. He’s gonna be sandwiched between Jade and Haerin for the next two weeks, his biggest fans,” you joked.
“Nah, Sunghoon and Sunoo have it way worse. Serenity’s attitude is enough to send me running,” Niki chuckled, shaking his head.
"Speaking of running, how come you were appointed leader over your group even though you’re a baby," Niki teased.
"Not you baby-shaming me! I was born in 06', you've barely got any experience on me."
"I've had an entire YEAR to catch up on things, for your information."
"Things like what? Potty training?"
"Pfft, probably..." he replied, going quiet for a second before continuing, "If you ever need help, though, I don’t mind practicing with you after hours.”
"Sounds like fun, but that might be past my bedtime," you pouted playfully, taking one of the fries off his plate.
"Hmm."
"Hmm what?"
"Nothing, I just didn't take you as the type to follow rules," he smirked, taking a sip from his soda.
"I guess it depends on what rules we're breaking. Whether it’s worth it or not."
"So rule breaking is a “we” thing now, huh?"
"Probably..." you smiled, the cool breeze of the foreign air sending shivers down your spine.
Or maybe that had something to do with Niki?
Before you knew it, it was time to head back to your dorms for the night. You knew rehearsals in South Korea were taken a lot more seriously than where you're from, so you needed all the rest you could get.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Day one was easy.
The main focus was recording voice samples in the studio, experimenting with different harmonies, and training your vocals as needed.
Now you were on day two, which started with a quick vocal session, leading into the dance rehearsal warm-up right after.
After stretching, the studio was split in half, girls taking the left side and boys taking the right.
You all wore numbers on your back. This way, there wouldn’t be any confusion when any of your were being called.
Niki was assigned number eleven, and you had number one.
According to Jake, the numbers were disseminated based on skill level, and out of the 11 of you, that made Niki first place… and you the very last.
As rehearsals went on, your placement was proving to be true.
You were struggling to keep up with the choreography and it was really starting to bug you.
"Are you feeling okay," Niki asked as you sighed for what sounded like the hundredth time.
"Yea, I'm fine, it’s just this footwork is a bit tricky," you admitted.
“Aww, the smallest number for our most inexperienced contributor,” Serenity teased, making a pass at both your age and inability to get this one move right.
“I may be the youngest out of all of us, but I was appointed head over our group for a reason,” you snapped back.
“Yea… and it still shocks me to this day,” she mumbled, Jade and Haerin pausing to listen now.
You scoffed at her ignorance, putting your hands on your hips, “As if you could lead the Riot Grrlz any better.”
Serenity gave you a look that made you wanna drop here right there in front of everyone.
You never understood why she always had an attitude over the simplest things, and given the current work setting, your tolerance for her bull crap was at an all time low.
“Right, the Riot Grrlz. “Rookie Western Girl Group,” huh? And you expect me to be proud of that?”
“With pride of lionesses, of course,” Jade pitched in, leaning down to fasten her shoelaces.
“We should really keep working on our routine, guys,” Haerin mumbled quietly, causing the raging brunette diva to roll her eyes.
Meanwhile, the boys seemed to be getting along rather well with their part of the routine, completely blind to the chaos brewing at their left.
And by the boys, I mean all of them except Niki and Jake, who were both too distracted by your girl drama.
Way to go embarrassing myself again, you thought to yourself
“You’re new to this sort of training, aren’t you,” Jake asked curiously.
“What, did my shitty dance moves give it away?”
You know it wasn’t Jake’s fault, but you were started to doubt your abilities as an artist and performer.
Even Serenity felt as though you were letting your group down.
“You’re not a shitty dancer, ____,” Niki answered, walking closer to you.
“Yeah, Niki’s right. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself,” Jake added.
“Exactly! Just focus on your strengths,” Serenity pitched in, “your vocals, for example. You might ruin the dance routine, but at least you’ll save all the high notes with Heeseung.”
It was clear that you and Niki were equally fed up with Serenity’s toxicity.
“Okay, can everybody clear out for a moment," Niki clapped, causing everyone to back up against the walls almost instantly.
He pulled you by the hand, turning you to face him as he called out to Sunoo, "Put on a random dance track, real quick. Something upbeat, please."
“Gotcha!”
Turning back to you, Niki took your chin in his hand, making your eyes meet his. “Just follow my lead, okay?” He whispered, taking off the bracelet he wore before sliding it on your wrist, “Do you trust me?”
“Niki...” you started, not sure of what he was trying to do.
“I need you to feel the music, ____. Let it control you," he said, stepping away as a short remix of "Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls blared from the radio.
You could hear an amused Serenity and Sunghoon chuckle a bit at Sunoo’s choice of song, but Niki remained serious.
His gaze met the ground before he started freestyling to the song, letting his mind and body get used to the rhythm as he flowed to the beat. You stood awkwardly beside him, not feeling up to dance at the moment.
He caught sight of you standing and nudged your shoulder, "Loosen up, ____," he smiled, finally starting to feel the song himself.
You started by mirroring his movements at first, adding a few steps to make it fit your own style more.
"See? Now you're getting it," he encouraged again, pulling you toward him so you could dance together.
Your friends and the boys cheered you and Niki on while you two danced as if choreographed.
The track ended with Niki's had on your waist, both of your chests heaving from all the action.
Haerin's jaw dropped as she struggled to find the right words or any words to say, “That was…”
“Sexy!” Heeseung smirked while playfully fanning himself, making Niki turn his face in embarrassment.
You could feel your own face getting hot now, too, especially with everyone staring.
"Relax, Rinnie, you're acting like you've never seen a guy dance with a girl before," Jade chuckled.
"N-not... n-never like THAT,” Haerin said with a shocked face, “____, you're amazing!"
"Thanks," you smiled shyly, eyes falling back the bracelet Niki put around your wrist.
"Keep it... it's a good luck charm," he replied softly.
"Alright, alright. You guys can loosen up each other's buttons on your own time," Serenity snapped, interrupting everyone's gawking.
"Right... On second thought, it’s time for our break," Jay called, handing you and Niki a rag for your sweat.
"Great job, you guys. See you in 20," Jungwon added.
"Come on, girls," you chirped, picking up your gym bag as you took a sip from your water jug, heading towards the studio exit.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
The rest of the day continued according to your work schedule. One vocal practice followed the other as the initially difficult routine felt more natural with each retake.
You also made a stop by Hybe's fashion team, getting your measurements taken so they could design your outfit for the upcoming stage.
Although this was a work trip, you were having a blast in Korea so far. You liked getting to work with the new people and trying different foods. You especially liked being roomies with Niki.
He was super talented, chill, yet flirty at the same time.
No wonder his fans go so crazy over him, you thought to yourself.
“Hey, ____,” Niki called out, jogging to catch up as you made your way from the dance studio after going back to get the pair of headphones you forgot near the water cooler.
“I wanna show you something…,” he announced, “Well, a thing I like to do.”
“Mhm, and what’s that?” You asked playfully.
He chuckled, “Just a thing that I can’t get away with while in idol mode. My secret escape... Are you interested?”
You meditated on his words before answering, considering the early curfew outlined by both your managers, and how it was already 8:00 at night, “It’s getting pretty late, you know… Is it gonna take long?”
He giggled again, this time leaning into you. “Only if you’re indecisive.”
The sounds of your sneakers tapping against the shiny tiled floors bounced off the hallway walls.
Like you said, girls would sell souls to be in your shoes right now: there’s no way you were gonna pass up on a chance to hang out with Niki…
A chance to explore this reckless romance.
“Ok, let’s go, but we have to be back by midnight,” you agreed.
“Ok, Cinderella. We’re not too far from where I wanna show you,” he beamed, fighting the urge to hold your hand as you followed him out of the Hybe Building, clashing into the night.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
The place was reminiscent of a skate park, graffitied ramp-like walls cupping you and Niki in the surface of the arena.
There were a few other people present, but they seemed more wrapped up in their own little worlds to even look your way…
The moon shined behind the thin clouds of the sky, basking you and Niki’s skin with an ethereal glow.
“This is it!” He gestured with open arms, “my secret escape.”
You tucked your hands in your pockets as it was a bit cold out, “A shared secret place?” You corrected, pointing out the tiny groups of people hanging around.
Niki pushed the hoodie from over his head, revealing his two-toned mane, “I guess you could say that… they’re all idols, here. Just like me. They get why I do this.”
“Why you do what,” you inquired, stepping over a few random rocks that decorated the path.
“Why I dance,” he answered almost immediately, looking you in the eyes, “for myself.”
He took a few steps away from you, swaying to the music that rippled from one of the mystery people’s carry-radios.
Like earlier, you mirrored his moves at first, adding your own adjustments based on intuition.
Feeling.
You had so many more questions to ask, but in this moment, you focused on Niki and the way he moved.
The small groups of people developed into a crowd within a matter of seconds, joining you and Niki along with the music.
Although everyone was doing their own thing, in a strange way if felt harmonious.
Some people danced calmly, others were more wild. Either way, you were starting to understand what Niki meant.
Being able to express yourself away from prying eyes, scornful comments, flashing cameras, or a number 1 sign on your back was invigorating.
The music was still going when Niki grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side, a soft look taking over his features.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, staring into your eyes.
“W-what?”
“I just need to know that what I’m feeling right now is real.”
You took his face in your hands, trying to make yourself feel more in control of the situation, “Niki, I don’t think we should do this. Your manager outlined pretty strict rules.”
He paused before responding, “Remember what you said at the restaurant the first day we met?”
His grip on your hands remained delicate despite how strongly he felt for you.
“About us breaking rules together… only if it’s worth it.”
“Exactly,” he smiled, leaning in, “I knew they didn’t call you a riot girl for nothing.”
His lips connecting with yours like a puzzle piece, both your hearts fluttering as if they’d grown butterfly wings.
You felt like your world was spinning at twice its original speed, but at the same time, the moment felt still.
Niki tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he braced a hand at your waist, pulling you closer before finally letting go.
“I like you, ____. Like, a lot,” he confessed, taking in the dreamy expression displayed on your face.
Your mind went blank.
“Say something? Please,” he urged, taking your hands in his.
A smile wavered over your features as you kissed him back on the lips, feeling as though you both stopped breathing for a moment.
“I like you too, Niki. But isn’t this pretty risky?”
“You said so yourself, risks don’t count if it’s worth it,” he nearly whispered.
“Well,” you began, still holding onto him, “if we’re gonna do this, it has to stay between us… no one else can find out.”
And just like that, you were now secretly dating your roommate / coworker / Enhypen’s main dancer and maknae / one of K-pop’s most sought after It-Boy’s, all in a three days.
Great.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
You and Niki made it back to you dorm rooms undetected. It seemed like everyone else was either too tired or too busy to notice that you two were out for so long.
Unlocking the door to as quietly as possible, you and Niki took light steps, trying not to disturb anyone or draw attention to yourselves.
Once the door was closed, you both bust out in a fit of laughter for reasons you didn’t understand nor cared to understand.
You didn’t need a reason laugh when Niki was around… it’s kind of just something that started to happen over the last couple days.
“What’s your secret to performing so well?” You asked him, both laying face-up on the lower bunk bed together.
“Hmm, I feel like nervousness is a strength. It pushes you to go forward in a sense…”
“Yeah… I get that. Sometimes, I feel like being calm is dangerous. It puts you in a safe space, when performing should be all about taking chances.”
“Right,” he agreed, resting a hand over his stomach, “Speaking of chances, they’re precious, you know? I never just assume I’ll get another opportunity to dance.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Like…” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “Every time I get on stage… in front of those lights… in front of my fans… I perform-”
“As if it’s your last…” you answered for him.
“Yeah, that,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “You know, it’s really nice talking to someone who gets me… the dancer part of me.”
“Of course, it’s really nice talking to you, too, Niki,” you smiled softly.
Breaking the calmness of the moment, he sat up in his elbows, meeting your face.
“Top or bottom?” He asked, referring to where you wanted to sleep for the night.
You crawled over his body, climbing into the upper bunk of the bed and laying down to finally rest.
“Good night, number 11,” you teased, snuggling into the mattress.
“Rest well, number 1. Big day tomorrow.”
🎙️ For my baby, @microwvdstrawb3rri3s, I hope it was worth the wait ~ And yes, before you ask, there will be a second part 💕
⛦ Additional tags for my fellow Niki enthusiasts: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @nikisblkgf @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikimeows @kimjiho1 @nikipedia07 @nishimuradaniel
🎙️ Feel free to check out more fun reads on the pinned post at my home page ~
@ashgonedash, I still felt bad about forgetting to tag you earlier 👑 so here you go, my love :3
Update: THANK YOU ALL SM FOR 400 NOTES!!
#niki fluff#niki x reader#niki x y/n#niki scenarios#niki fanfic#niki imagines#niki soft hours#niki blurbs#niki drabbles#enha niki#niki enhypen#enhypen#enhypen nishimura riki#niki ff#enhypen riki#nishimura riki#enhypen x reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen blurbs#enhypen drabbles#enhypen ff#nishimura riki x reader#niki x female reader#niki x you
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Rouge
Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Chris wants his makeup done for fun by Y/N. However things don’t go to plan, and some events take place….💜 requested by @mammon-lovesjade1
Warnings⚠️: This is smut…just two best friends fucking….you know the norm😁
Song for the imagine: Coming Down-The Weeknd
⚠️This is an 18+ imagine so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️
The party’s finished and I want you to know
(I’m all alone)
I’m feelin everything before I got up
I always want you when I’m
(Coming down)
The one thing I loved the most more than filming content or hanging with my friends was doing my makeup. It was so relaxing, and made me feel so pretty. My whole channel and TikTok was based on get ready with me’s and makeup tutorials
I had just finished filming TikTok’s with some new makeup I got when I saw Chris commented on one of my videos. “Ouuu me next please” it read. I replied back to him to tell him I was down.
Chris came over fully ready to get glammed up, and I found it adorable. He was really my best friend. He let me try new hair products on him, new nail products, skin care products. I mean just about anything, so him wanting his makeup done made me excited.
I think he truly enjoyed physical touch as a form of an affirmation of one’s love for him, but he’d never admit that. He was sitting on my vanity chair as I was hunched over trying to do his makeup
“Ouch you keep poking me in the eye with that damn thing” he said flinching
“I’m sorry, I’m hunched over” I said laughing and covering my mouth
“Want me to stand up?” He asked me
“No because then you’ll be too tall” I said back
“Oh so then sit on my lap” he said nonchalantly
This made my throat run dry. I mean I wasn’t sure that I had a crush on Chris, but I found him super attractive. We were only friends so this request seemed a bit too intimate for my liking.
“No it’s fine” I said looking for a makeup brush
“I don’t want your back hurting or to keep getting poked in the eye so sit” he said looking at me
“Alright whatever” I said and sat on his lap
Chris didn’t touch me, or make me feel uncomfortable. However my thoughts were running wild. Our groin areas are so close to one another. Had I slid up more my pussy would be directly over his dick, and this sent a shiver up my spine.
Chris and I continued to talk and laugh as I did his makeup. Subconsciously I kept scooting up on his lap not even realizing what I was doing. I went to draw on his lip with a lip liner when he jumped causing me to jump as well and land on his dick again
“Fuck” he said bringing his finger to his lip
“I’m sorry, what did I do?” I said giggling
“That pencil gave me a splinter or some shit, ow” he said laughing
I looked down at the pencil and saw it needed to be sharpened
“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it needed to be sharpened” I said laughing again
“That shit scratched the fuck out of me” he said touching his lip again
“Let me see it” I said
He moved his hand away and I leaned in closer to see his lip. There was the tiniest little scratch but nothing to draw blood
“It’s nothing you’re okay just a scratch” I said rubbing his top lip with my thumb, not realizing how seductive this move was
“How about gloss instead?” He said laughing
“Ouu okay” I said leaning over to grab a gloss, and it was only then did I feel a sudden hard bulge on my inner left thigh.
I swallowed thickly as I froze. My eyes went wide. Does he really have a boner? Or am I going crazy, I thought to myself. Do I address it or not?? I decided to ignore it grabbing the lip gloss and turning to him
Chris’ eyes looked different almost like his pupils were dilated and they had a glossy cast over them. Y/N get it together please!
I applied the clear gloss to his lips
“Okay perfect your lips look great” I said closing the bottle and putting it back
“Do they?” He asked me in a gruff tone
“They do” I said looking down at his lips
“Just kiss me then you’re begging for it” he said jokingly
“Chris you literally have a hard on right now shut up” I said rolling my eyes
His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed red
“Shut up I thought you didn’t notice” he said looking away and laughing
“Mmm it’s pretty hard not to notice it, I’m sitting right on it” I said looking down
“I’m sorry, just the moving around and the touching it got me going” he said
“It’s okay….maybe I like it” I said licking my lips
“Oh?” He questions cocking his head to the side
I looked him up and down before crashing our lips together. Chris immediately kissing back as his right hand came up to cheek pulling me in closer.
I subconsciously started to grind down on him as his lips moved from my mouth to my neck leaving wet open mouthed kisses. Chris slid his hands up my shirt wrapping his hands around my torso and pulling me down to grind harder
“Shit Chris” I moaned out at the friction
“Can’t you see what you do to me” he said against my skin as his eyes traveled up to look at me
“I didn’t know I had a such an affect on you” I said biting my lip as he left kisses on my collarbones
“Big time baby, big time” he said running his hands down to my ass and squeezing
Chris pulled away, and I immediately pulled my shirt off and my bra. His eyes darted down to my breast as he cupped them in his hands, kneading and toying with them.
“Fuck” I moaned out licking my now dry lips
Chris brought his mouth to the valley of my breast kissing and licking before taking my right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue, and moaning against me. I could feel how wet I had become from this action alone causing me to grind down onto Chris harder
“Take your shirt off” I said in a hushed tone
Chris pulled away and removed his shirt, I immediately leaned forward and left wet opened mouth kisses along his neck and upper chest. His head leaned back as his grip on my ass strengthened
“Mama I need more” Chris croaked out, this immediately making my heart pound and my pupils dilate. “Mama”?? Fuck this was so hot
I slid off of Chris and slipped my pants off leaving myself in my underwear as I got back on his lap. Pushing my very wet cunt against his dick
“So wet for me” he moaned out looking into my eyes
“Always baby” I said grinding down on him
Feeling his dick so vividly through his thin sweatpants and thin boxers. My underwear were soaked, and I’m sure it left a mark….
Chris attached his mouth to my left nipple as I slowly grinded against him. I swear I was about to cum from this alone.
“I’m going to cum from this alone” I panted out
He released me with a smile spread across his face.
“Get up” he said tapping my thigh
I lifted off of Chris and he slid his pants down along with his underwear. His dick springing up, and my jaw dropping. Fuck he was hung….ive been missing out on this??
He started to stroke his dick while looking at me
“I’m ready when you are” he said
Part of me couldn’t take him serious because he had makeup on and was about to fuck me, but the other part couldn’t take my eyes off his dick, and how badly I needed it
I slid my panties off and walked back over to him, lining myself up with his dick, and slowly sinking down. I had never rode a guy sitting in a chair, but this new feeling felt amazing
His dick curved perfectly enough to push against my g spot, and my clit was hitting his pubic bone perfectly….god this needs to be a position I constantly do
Chris helped me bounce up and down on his dick as we both let out shaky moans. Why am I fucking my bestfriend, and how did this happen so fast, and why don’t I want it to end???
“Fuck Chris just like that” I moaned against his lips
He was gripping my hips and grinding me against him, his dick hitting all the right places.
“Come on mama” he cooed in a raspy voice
My stomach tightened at the pet name again. My mouth falling slack as my brows furrowed
All thought could be heard was our breathing, our skin smacking and the chair scratching against the floor slightly
I began to bounce on Chris dick as he massaged my breast. My body shuddered as I continued to ride him
“Oh fuckkk” I whined out gripping onto his shoulders harder
“You got this, come on” he said biting his lip
I started to get close to my orgasm, so I began to grind against him. My clit hitting his pubic bone in all the right places. His dick kissing my G spot and I swore I was seeing stars.
“I’m going to cum” I moaned out my breathing becoming heavier
“Okay baby, come on” he said looking at my face up and down, taking his bottom lip into his teeth and helping me grind down harder
My upper body shuddered as I clenched around him. Falling into his chest as I came all over his dick. His name spilling from my lips like a chorus as I ran my fingers into his hair pulling at the roots. My thighs and legs shaking as my vision went blank and my hearing went dull. This was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, and it was on Chris’ dick…
Taking shaky breaths as I came down from my high I leaned back looking at Chris with fucked out eyes. I slowly slid off of him and got down on my knees
“What are you doing baby?” He asked
“I want you to cum for me” I said looking up at him
Chris eyebrows raised and he swallowed thickly.
“Okay…yeah” he said biting his lip
He began to stroke his dick and moaning out my name as his jaw fell slack. His lower abdomen began to contract and his thighs got a bit shaky
He stroked harder, and soon his brows furrowed and he looked me in my eyes.
“I’m gonna cum” he said
I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, Chris’ eyes lighting up.
Suddenly he came, painting my tongue with his seed as my name fell from his mouth like a mantra.
I swallowed as he leaned back, his breathing becoming shallow as he tried to catch his breath.
“I can’t believe I fucked my best friend” I said getting up and walking over to him running my hands through his hair
“I can’t believe you fucked me while I had makeup on” he said laughing
“I mean hey it didn’t even smudge, look at that my waterproof makeup routine is now sex proof” I said laughing
“Glad we tested it out” he said winning at me
I rolled my eyes as a blush crept up on my neck. I pulled Chris up by his hand
“Let’s shower” I said
He wrapped his hands around my waist as we walked to the bathroom, kissing me on my neck as we waddled
I think I liked this. Fucking my best friend, not dating but also knowing we wouldn’t fuck anyone else. It felt right to me….Chris was going to be the death of me…
The End
ALRIGHTTTT I hope you enjoyed this one🤭. I love yall sooo much, and I’m less than 50 people away from 1,000 followers. When I tell you this is fucking insane. I’m so grateful for all of yall. Love yall dearly🤭🖤🖤
-J💅🏽
#sturniolo triplet smut#sturniolo smut#smut#chris sturniolo smut#Christopher sturniolo smut#Chris sturniolo x reader smut#Spotify
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a little ink - C.S
summery - y/n is journaling in bed but chris gets bored of his phone and begins to play around with y/n's stationary.
notes - fluff <33333, chris is so boyfriend, i thought the fandom needed more fluff, short
a/n - hey yall, this is an apology gift because ive been bad on being active and writing so enjoy this lil thing i whipped up.
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i stationed myself on my side of the large bed with a little tray table on top of my bare legs. my shorts barely covered up to my mid thigh so the vent near me was absolutely chilling. i begin to go slowly when i'm trying to write a title for my next page, i began to journal when my boyfriends brother and my therapist recommended it to me, despite how simple matt’s was, I thought i could take it up a notch and make it a little cutesy.
my pencil case was jam packed with highlighters, colourful pens and high quality markers, my concentration stays strict on the page in front of me, i tried to keep my penmanship neat while i'm trying to write something in cursive. a warm hand wraps around my ankles as i look down beside me seeing chris look at me with want in his eyes. “hi chris,” i simply say looking at the boy while i put the cap back onto my brush tip marker.
“hi baby,” he looks up at me with a beaming bright smile, he just radiates good energy and love. he drops his phone beside him now playing a song instead of the various audios from tiktok.
his hand sneaks up into my pencil case grabbing a yellow marker from it. he uncaps it and i feel the light pressure of it press down onto my skin, the yellow marker glides along my scar, he continues to draw past it to make a star out of the previously hurt skin. chris knew i was self conscious about my scars, it was a permanent reminder of the pain i went through in highschool.
he didn’t care though. he continued to draw random doodles on my leg, moving on to my arms where more scars lay hurt, he switched out his marker for a different colour the more he explored. little hearts, stars and chris’ signature riddle my legs and arms, i feel his writing getting a bit faster. It looks like a sentence but i couldn’t quite read it.
i stopped what i was doing a long time ago, now just admiring what he was doing. he was so focused on writing his signature on the larger line of a scar i had on my arm using the line from my body to represent the line through the dollar sign he always made whenever he wrote his name.
he does a very magnificent heart beside his name, filling it in still trying to be very soft on my skin as the ink seeps in. he plants a fulfilling kiss onto the scar now covered in orange ink, he looks up at me with a little bit of a knowing look painted on his face. “im sorry, it was only meant to be a little ink but your scars are beautiful, as is the rest of you.” his finger underlines the sentence imprinted on my skin as he reads it out.
“chris i'm gonna cry oh my gosh. you are so cute, you know that?” i saw trying to hold back a sob.
a chuckle escapes his smiley lips “i love you so much y/n” his lips make contact with the star that started the rest of the pseudo tattoos. i wish i could keep this image in my head forever, because this was a moment too precious to let go of.
taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem73
#sturniolo triplets#syn speaks#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#Spotify
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DMC Men on Valentine's Day (SFW/NSFW)
Gender-neutral reader! NSFW is marked before it begins for each <3
1.8k words
Dante
☆Dante had never taken Valentine's Day seriously
☆Before he met you there was no real love in his life so the day meant nothing to him
☆With you in his life though, he is determined to make Valentine’s Day the best day of the year
☆Very stereotypical setup, he got the flowers, the candy, the floor covered in flower petals, and your shared apartment is fully lit up by candles
☆He is pulling out all of the stops by making you your favorite dinner and treating you to a romantic bubble bath
☆He has never done romantic stuff before and he’s actually really into it
☆Dante finds decorating and setting everything up to be very fun and keeps imagining your reaction when you arrive home and see everything
☆When you do arrive home your reaction is better than he imagined as you wrap your arms around him tightly planting kisses on his lips, nose, and cheeks
☆You were not expecting this and are so grateful for the effort he put in
☆First, he helps you take off your coat, takes your bags from you, and then leads you to the dining table where the food is set up
☆The meal is delicious and you can taste the love he put into it, he tells you how he had a small mishap while cooking and you both laugh and talk for hours
* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *
☆After dessert, Dante leads you into the bathroom where he has a bath ready for the two of you
☆He stands behind you planting kisses on your neck and down your shoulders slowly taking off your clothes
☆Once you are down to just your underwear you start to undress him starting by taking off his shirt, kissing all over his chest, and running your hands over his abs
☆You drop to your knees as he reaches down to undo his belt, eagerly you pull down his jeans and boxers and are met with his semi-hard length
☆Taking your hand around it you spit onto his tip and spread it over the head of his cock beginning to stroke him
☆“God, I love the way you do that, Baby” Dante groans as he looks down to meet your eyes
☆You lock eyes with him as you take him into your mouth swirling your tongue his tip still using your hand to stroke him
☆Taking his cock further into your mouth prompts Dante to place his hand on the back of your head gently pushing you to take him deeper down your throat, “Just like that, you’re doing so well for me”
☆You bob your head using your free hand to brace yourself until he stops you brings you up to standing and pulls you into a kiss
☆“You are so good to me, but today is about you,” he says as he takes your hand to lead you into the tub
☆Dante spends the night exploring your body and making sure you are satisfied before finally lying down in your shared bedroom where he has put several dozens of flower bouquets around
☆He holds you against his chest drawing patterns on your back as he whispers about his love for you until you fall asleep
Vergil
☆This man loves you more than you will ever know
☆However, he is clueless when it comes to things like Valentine’s Day
☆This doesn't mean he isn't going to try as he does want to spend this day with you and show you how much you mean to him
☆Valentine’s with Vergil is simple and meaningful
☆He plans to make dinner with you playing music while you two work together to prepare the meal
☆A song will come on that Vergil specifically made sure was on the playlist
☆When the first note plays he stops what he’s doing to take your hand and pull you to his chest
☆One hand goes to your waist and the other takes your hand in his as he leads you in a slow dance
☆Having you close to him allows him to shower you with compliments and tell you just how much you mean to him
☆He ends the dance with a kiss on your cheek and you two go back to work
☆You work seamlessly together to set the table and plate the food
☆The meal is beautiful and the conversation you share is deep and full of love
☆After you are done eating you go to begin cleaning but Vergil stops you and hands you an envelope telling you he wants you to read it while he takes care of the dishes
☆Puzzled you nod and go to the couch to open the letter
☆Inside is a beautifully written note recounting your relationship from the day he met you until now saying how grateful he is to have you in his life
☆You begin to cry before you can get to the end and by this time he has come to sit beside you wiping away your tears
☆“You are the world to me, the end to my suffering,” he says as he places a kiss on your lips
* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *
☆You deepen the kiss running your hand through his hair and gently tugging at his white locks
☆Vergil groans into your mouth pulling you onto his lap not once taking his lips off of yours
☆He places his hands on your ass gently squeezing as he pulls you into him
☆You begin to roll your hips into his starting to feel him harden underneath you
☆Breaking the kiss he leans his head to look at you fully
☆“Be good for me and get on your hands and knees” he asks guiding you with his hands
☆You happily oblige feeling him take off your pants from behind you
☆Making quick work of your shirt you turn to see Vergil now undressed behind you slowly stroking his cock
☆He pulls out a bottle of your favorite lube and applies a generous amount to his now swollen member
☆Placing a hand on your hip he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance
☆“Take it all for me, Baby,” as he slowly slides into you
☆His thrusts are deep starting slowly
☆He wants you to feel him fully each time he enters you
☆Grabbing your hips with both hands he guides you back to fuck yourself on his cock
☆Your moans fuel him as he changes the pace to a faster one
☆When he’s about to cum he grabs your hair to pull your back against his chest
☆As he finishes he whispers in your ear, “You are mine and I will never let you go”
Nero
☆This man has all of the right intentions but cannot plan to save his life
☆He had so many ideas of what to do with you on Valentine’s Day, so excited to show you how much he loves and cares for you
☆But he did not check his calendar and now here the two of you are on Valentine’s Day driving to kick some demon ass
☆He thought it was weird that Nico wasnt here to drive but he forgot about it as he was too focused on designing a bouquet of flowers for you in his head
☆Nero starts up a conversation as he usually does, you seem off but once again he is so preoccupied with what restaurant to make reservations at he figures that he’ll ask you about it later
☆It was a small job only taking the two of you about an hour and something falls out of your bag as you were packing things up
☆Nero picks it up thinking that he’s helping you but he notices that it’s a cutely wrapped box with his name on it
☆You see what’s in his hand and lock eyes with him unsure of what to say next
☆This is when it clicks, today is Valentine’s Day
☆Immediately he begins to apologize attempting to explain what happened and how he lost track of time and promising to make it up to you
☆You stop him and tell him that you aren’t angry and tell him to open the box
☆He opens it to find a note stating that you were sorry for forgetting what today was
☆You tell him that you also had plans for today but did not look at the calendar until today, only having time for what is currently in his hands
☆He starts laughing and pulls you into a bear hug, you two hold each other as you laugh over what happened realizing that a day didn't matter, the bond you had was unbreakable and the love you share is stronger than anything life throws at you
* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *
☆Getting back into the van all of the awkward air is gone and you can now just enjoy each other's company
☆You look over at him from the passenger seat and start noticing how good Nero looks today
☆While he rambles on about what take-out food to get for tonight you begin to run your hand over his thigh
☆It takes a minute for him to pick up on what you’re up to but once you begin stroking his cock through his pants he shuts up
☆His grip on the wheel tightens trying to keep focus on the road
☆“You keep this up and we might crash, Sweetheart,” He says aware of how hard he is now
☆Taking this as a challenge more than a warning you undo his belt and he lefts his hips to pull his pants down freeing his cock already dripping with precum
☆You undo your seatbelt hoping to take him into your mouth but your plans come to a halt as you feel him abruptly pull over
☆“Get in the back now,” Nero says as he puts the van in park and takes the keys out of the ignition
☆Quickly you get to the back and undress watching as he does the same
☆Nero lays you on your back taking one of your legs in his hand and bringing it up to his shoulder
☆He spits into his hand and spreads it over his cock before he lines up with your entrance
☆Locking eyes with you he says, “I love you and I never want you to forget that,” as he pushes into you fully
☆The gasp that leaves your lips tells him everything he needs to know
☆Fucking you in the back of a car was not what either of you planned on for Valentine’s Day but you know he will more than makeup for it when you get home
Author's note: This is my first NSFW post! I have more detailed posts that I am working on and will be writing longer and more detailed stories both SFW and NSFW for individual characters soon <3<3
#dante x reader#dante#dante sparda#dmc dante#vergil x reader#dmc vergil#vergil sparda#dmc nero#nero#nero x reader#dante devil may cry#dante smut#vergil devil may cry#vergil smut#nero dmc#nero sparda#nero smut#dmc x reader#reqs open
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★ SHINSOU X READER
▻ Summary: You and Shinsou get caught by his mentor. [implied fem reader, aged up characters.]
▻ Fluff, awkward stuff, hope you like it <3
☁ I try to hide it in my face and it don't work, you see through that I just wanna get with you... ☁
A/n: good luck to those of you who have exams!
What is this, a funeral? Play some music: You right by Doja Cat
☀︎
You walked into the lounge behind the staff room to check on Eri. Present Mic being your mentor and Eraserhead being Shinsou's, you both had special privileges. One of them being steaming hot coffee on cold days.
Eri was lying on her tummy on the floor, colouring with pastels. "[Onee/ Onii] -san, you're back!" she exclaimed joyfully, jumping into your arms. You chuckled, catching the small child and encasing her in your arms. Eraserhead had put you on Eri-watch duty since he'd be busy for the rest of the evening. "Look! Look! I drew Papa Mic and Dada holding hands in front of their house and You and Onii san holding hands in the yard!" Eri showed you excitedly. "You're so good at drawing, Eri-chan!" You exclaimed while kneeling down to the now beaming girl's level. "Wait a minu- Why are me and Shinsou holding hands??"
"Mmm. Very interesting." A voice came from behind you, which you responded to with a squeak. Eri ran into the Shinsou's arms, the artwork now forgotten. "Shin! Don't scare us like that." You said while telling him off. "Oh, boo hoo. I can't help that you're a scardey cat." Shinsou said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the sofa. "You sneak up behind a person and then make fun of them for being surprised? What a bleak time to live in." You tutted, shaking your head sarcastically. "Enough bickering, Y/N. There are more important matters at hand, like watching Cinderella." Eri cheered happily as you sat on the couch, Shinsou starting the movie. Eri cuddled into you as she sang along to the songs, having watched the movie before.
"I'll head to the vending machine, Do you guys want anything?" You piped up, feeling thirsty. Eri, absorbed in the movie with her mouth agape shook her head half-mindedly. Standing up, you made your way to the corridor. Looking out the windows, you saw the trees gently swaying in the wind, highlights of the golden sunlight illuminating the bark. It was almost sundown, you thought to yourself. Sensei would be back soon. Standing in front of the machine, you kicked it. The darn thing was acting up again. Your head turned at hearing soft footsteps from the other side of the corridor. It was the purple-haired idiot dragging his feet along the floor, yawning while rubbing the back of his head. "Eri's asleep so I thought I'd give you some company." Shinsou said, mid-yawn. "Hmph. Like I'd savour your company." You stated, pursing your lips.
Shinsou backed you into the wall. "Speak up, pretty girl." Shinsou smirked while looking into your eyes. Smirking yourself, "In simpler words your pea brain can understand- you're boring." Tilting his head, Shinsou closed the gap between you two. "That's not what you were saying last night." He said, now nipping at your neck. "We should stop Shin, we need to get back to Eri-chan." You two jumped away from each other when a loud yawn interrupted your moment, the both of you looking in the direction of the disturbance. Eri was walking towards you two, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "The movie's almost oveer.." Eri wailed, putting her hands up wanting to be picked up. Big bro Shinsou swooped in, picking her off her feet.
☾
Shinsou put a cranky Eri to sleep as you stood leaning on one of the desks while looking at the now-black sky through the huge windows. You yawned, feeling sluggish yourself. You made a mental note of the things you'd have to do when you got back to the dorms. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at Shinsou who was now walking towards you. He stretched his arm to reach behind you, turning the lights down to dim the room. Your eyes wandered the room, falling on Eri, whose chest rose and fell as she breathed softly. Shinsou moved to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your hips and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. His hands snaked up to your back as you held him close, wordlessly. "Tired?" You chuckled, running your hands through his hair to comfort him. "I think I should change my name to Mr.Eyebags at this point." Shinsou joked, his hands now roaming your body.
You let out a gasp as your body made a 'thud' sound as it came into contact with the desk. Your hands were above your head, held firmly in place by Shinsou's muscular arms. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, whining about how Eri was in the room and how Aizawa Sensei would be back any moment. Shinsou hunched over you, shushing you by placing a slender finger on your pouty lips. Not wanting to look at him, you turned your head in rebellion. "Oh, is that how you're going to play princess?" Shinsou said, pinning you down with one hand. Shinsou tickled your tummy and you resisted your very best from giving in laughing. You burst into a fit of giggles along with him just when you heard someone clearing their throat as the lights in the room flickered on.
Shinsou widened his eyes. "S..Sensei." Shinsou stuttered, trying to explain himself. You sat up, mortified. "Shinsou. Y/N." Aizawa said, pressing his temples. "How long has this been going on?" Aizawa questioned you both shifted your weight from one foot to another awkwardly. "A couple months." You piped up, your gaze falling to the floor. "We weren't gonna keep it a secret forever." Shinsou said, walking over to you. Aizawa shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm against it." Aizawa stated, now looking at you both. The silence in the room was loud, the three of you staring at each other. "....Is Yamada Sensei going to hear about this?" You questioned, wishing you could be buried a few thousand feet under the ground. "You bet." Aizawa shrugged, turning on his heel to walk towards the sofa. "Set a good example for your younger sister." Aizawa said, side-eyeing you both while picking up Eri who was still asleep.
Shinsou and You stood in silence for a while after Aizawa stepped out the room. "Wanna walk back to the dorms together?" Shinsou proposed, resting his hand on the small of your back. You nodded. "Sensei is never going to let go of this." You groaned, imaging the amount of teasing you'd have to endure from your mentor and Aizawa Sensei. "Good thing we're graduating soon, eh?" Shinsou said, poking your stomach with his elbow.
#shinsou x reader#bnha fanfiction#aizawa shouta#aizawa#dadzawa#hitoshi x reader#shinsou hitoshi#hitoshi shinsou#shinsou hitoshi x reader#hitoshi shinso x reader#bnha x reader#dad mic#dadzawa x reader#mha x reader#eri
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic March challenge.
Five, Nine, Nine, Two
March Prompt: Pin | Word Count: 388 | Rating: G | CW: None | Tags: Established Relationship, Banter, Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Still Together, But Still Pushing Each Other's Buttons
"What do you mean you don't remember your PIN? You created it!" Steve yells, and Eddie just keeps moving in front of the computer. Pacing. Fretting. Worrying his hands.
"First off, I didn't pick it. They just gave it to me and I'm expected to remember it? It's, like, eight letters. Maybe some numbers. I don't know. I'm too old for this," Eddie rambles, staring at the computer screen. Like he can will it back to the forefront of his memory.
He doesn't remember. Can't. It's just gone, vaporized.
"You didn't write it down?" Steve snaps, digging around the cluttered desk, scattering a handful of crumpled Post-Its across the keyboard. "None of these are it?!"
"You told me to stop doing that, so I did!" Eddie argues back. Because Steve had forced him to stop writing down his passwords and PINs months ago, and now, well, this is what they have to show for it.
Eddie hums under his breath, trying to remember if he made up a little song about it or not. He does that sometimes. It helps.
"Stop singing under your breath and think!" Steve snaps, and Eddie waves his hands around his head, trying to get Steve to be quiet so he can concentrate.
"I am thinking!" Eddie yells, and then starts mumbling, singing under his breath, "Pineapple peach, dog frog, five-"
"Nine, nine, two…" Steve sings along with him, clearly annoyed, drawing out that two like it has seventeen letters instead of three. "You sang that stupid nonsense song all last week. I don't want it stuck in my head again, stop it!"
Eddie stops. Looks at Steve, "That's my password."
He taps the keyboard slowly, one hunt-and-pecked key at a time: PPDF5992.
And sure enough, they're in.
Steve kisses Eddie on the side of the head, then sits down, guiding the mouse cursor to the little applications message box that's lit up in the corner, indicating there's a response waiting.
"It's there," Steve says, mouse still hovering.
"Well, click it!" Eddie demands, putting both his hands on Steve's shoulders, squeezing, urging him on.
Steve clicks it.
Accepted.
Eddie shakes Steve's shoulders in excitement. They passed the home visit. The shelter is giving them a cat. And not just any cat, the most perfect cat Eddie has ever seen in his whole life.
I don't know why this was the first thing that came to mind, but it's definitely inspired by Marshall from How I Met Your Mother and his singing nonsense to remember his bar exam password.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️
#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficmarch#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic
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As a send of here's my compilation of every detail/gag or pretty much everything that I loved about the Fionna and Cake finale.
First off, the lighthearded stuff.
First of all. That's Hunter!!! We finally get to see HW gender-swapped counterpart's design. Gotta say I love that they kept it the same, it does feel like it could fit anyone.
Talking about him, I LOVE that they are finally adding him to the gang. I didn't expect him to be so prevalent in the finale, but I couldn't be happier! It seems like the crew has finnaly learned to apreciate HW and they are inserting her (even if it's Hunter) whenever they can.
All the raw emotion of the lich would have been unheard of at any other point in AT's history. The depression and hopelessnes, such human emotions were amazing to explore in him. He poses himself as a "ceesless weel" a god-like beeing of pure destruction, but even he neels when he realices it was all for nothing.
For some time I theorized that Golb (and subsequently Golbetty) was, in fact, Scarabs and Prismo's Boss. Kind of like a ultimate deity, high up on the pantheon. But seeing how Scarab adresses her in such a careles way, emphasizing that she should "stay out of this" made me think about the real power dinamic between thees two. And thus, of the whole multiverse bureocracy.
This tittle card rips me apart. It's briming with thematic importance. But I feel so many emotions simply beacuse it says cheers, it's like a send-off, a happy cheerfull goodbye to all of us who enjoyed this show. It made me tear up a bit when I first saw it.
For thoose who aren't aware Pawn Swan's was created by Steven Wolfhard after CAWM alongside the pup kingdom. He has in his tumblr a gigantic amount of lore about it. I'm sooo happy they finally got to use his ideas and designs. Many of the pups seen all trought Shermy and Beth's sequence were in his drawings too. So go check that out!
I'm a complete sucker for happy endings and THIS was PERFECTION. I simply connot describe how much I obsolutely LOVE that they are able to comunicate and talk. it's just perfect, this show has me spoiled-rotten.
In pure Marceline fashion Marshal tries playing another song. And Gary is soo into this man it's unreal
But, also in pure Marceline fashion, he gets interupted. It kind of reminded me about Marceline's song to Bonny in Obsidian. But it's kind of the oposite outcome, Scarab isn't affected by it at all while Glorbo is finaly delt with.
Talking about Simon being happy. I'm just so glad that he has been able to reconect with Astrid!!! This man is such a DAD, I love him :,)
Before Fionna's world was finaly canonized we can see that it really just amounts to the city. Which makes sense because if you are trying to put a whole world in a dude's head, you are going to have to cut some stuff out.
Anyways, after they are made legit we can see that the city has expanded! And I also assume that now there's not only a city, but a whole world too!!
This really came as a surprise honeslty, but a welcomed one at that. I assume that since Jay agrees to stay in the city, even if it's not forever, Farmworld Finn must be fine. It doesn't make any sense for him to drop his 4 little brothers just to screw around in another universe.
The only sad part is that, since we don't see neither PB nor Marcy in the tank that means they are probably dead. In the end it does seem like they took eachothers life, together.
Now onto the heavy stuff!
"This is the world we want to fight for. The Scarab is kind of invincible. But we won't give up. If we die, we'll die together, as ourselves"
This cuts deep. At this moment Fionna was ready to die. She acknowledges that she had tried everything she could and that, in a way, it was her fault. But she also understands that this is what it is. And she's ready to depart. In what she thought were her last moments she found happines in thoose and that around her. Magic or not, they were all together, and that's what mattered.
"We made our choices. We could have made better ones, but I don't have any regrets. You were a wonderful experience"
We knew Simon had wronged Betty. She had put away everything for him. He didn't do it on porpuse, but he recognised he could have been more thoughtful. In the end, while Simon acknowledges his mistakes Betty doesn't demonise neither him nor the relationship that came bacuse of it. It's a very sentimental, heartfelt conclusion.
As humans we often try to make our best to navigate life. But with all the choices in front of us it's very hard to get it right. A lot of time might have to pass before we truly see how wrong we were. We realize that we hurt people, and that things didn't have to be this way. But once we acknowledge this we can finaly move on. At this moment, Simon realizes that it's okay to fail but, unfortunetly, we can't go back. We have to live with it and it can't prevent us from moving forward.
In the end all we can do is have compassion for ourselves, and for each other.
That was pretty much all of the details and highlights for me. There's some other ones but they are kind of too obvious to point out.
Thanks a lot for reading the whole thing! It means a lot :)
#adventure time#fionna and cake#simon petrikov#huntress wizard#adventure time: fionna & cake#marceline#princess bubblegum#farmworld finn#adventure timers#at#at fandom#marceline the vampire queen#the star#cheers#f&c spoilers#f&c#betty grof#golbetty#petrigrof#golb#hunter wizard#gumlee#marshall lee#gary gumball#gary prince#the lich#adventure time spoilers#atimers#adventure time fionna and cake
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