#hello to the one person reading these tags: sorry for my handwriting...
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needed to get my take on a human loop design out here...
a design sketch under cut!
#in stars and time#in stars and time spoilers#isat spoilers#act 6 spoilers#isat loop#isat siffrin#might change some things later idk#i just designed them based on how i would design one of my own ocs :)))#hello to the one person reading these tags: sorry for my handwriting...#i wanna make a comic about them wearing the hat too#my next isat drawing will probably feature the gang or your money back (you didnt pay anything...)#my art
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INAZUMA COMMISSIONS ( DILUC RAGNVINDR )
summary ! in an attempt to give diluc the best present for secret santa, you spend some time to know more about him. though, the dawn winery owner has some unique tastes.
tags ! diluc ragnvindr x fem reader, fluff
word count ! 5.2k
note: hello hello @umgatochamadopercyval !! i got you for the @2023gisecretsanta event 🫶 i got a little carried away so i’m very sorry for the word length 😭 either way, i hope you enjoy it MWAH <3 i had a lot of fun writing this for you !!
When Barbara approached you asking if you’d like to be part of her Secret Santa event, you immediately agreed. She said she was going around inviting people she knew would be interested in participating.
You asked her who else had decided to participate in the event and she named a few others. Lisa, Kaeya, Sucrose, Venti, a few sisters from the Cathedral, Eury, Donna. All people you knew well since they constantly came to Good Hunter and you spoke to them while they waited for their food.
Barbara said she was still asking people to join. So once she had an even number, she’d go down a list and have them pick out a paper to see who their Secret Santa was. Everyone would get a month to find the gifts. Then, the gifts would be revealed at a Christmas party she was working on.
Nearly a week and a half after that, Barbara came rushing over to Good Hunter with a small bag in her hand. She was her usual cheerful self and more now since the Secret Santa event she planned out.
“(Y/N)! Do you have a moment?” Barbara asked, waving and standing near the side of the stall. She had been waiting to see when it would be available. Her smile showed just how excited she was.
“Give a second!” You said, smiling as well. After taking the current order and the customer went to sit down at one of the tables, Barbara approached. She showed off the small brown bag and you knew what she was hinting at. “How many people did you get to join?” You asked, making sure to wipe your hands clean.
“I got thirty people!” She said, holding the bag open. The number made your eyebrows raise. Barbara was very serious about this. You peered inside the bag. Small red and green sheets of paper were mixed together. The amount was smaller than what Barbara had said so you assumed she already went to some of the people.
You reached in, grabbing one of the slips at the bottom of the bag and pulled out a red slip. Barbara closed the bag once you got your person. She made sure the strings on the bag were tight so nothing would fall out.
“Could you check it to make sure you didn’t pull your own name?” She asked. You nodded your head.
“Of course!” You said, opening the slip of paper. You wondered whose name you ended up getting out of the bag. It would make shopping and searching for someone’s gift a fun experience. Hopefully it was Lisa. There were several new books you wanted to get for her and replace a few worn out books in her library. That was until you read the name of the person who would give you the most trouble searching for a gift.
Your smile faded slightly. In black ink, Barbara had written Diluc’s name on your slip. Her star and balloon drawn decorations on the paper made it more exciting than it actually was. Of all thirty people who decided to participate, you were the unlucky one stuck with Diluc. He wasn’t a bad person but you didn’t really know enough about him.
“Nope. Didn’t get my own name.” You said to Barbara, folding the paper in half again.
“Great! Thank you again for joining!” She exclaimed happily. “Remember not to tell anyone and you have a month from now.”
She waved before heading off. She needed to catch the rest of the people and hopefully finish this by the end of the day. As she sped towards the building of the Knights, you stared at her cursive handwriting.
The red haired male came into your mind. What were you going to get Diluc for Christmas? He was a reserved character. You couldn’t name a single thing he liked except grape juice. And there wasn’t anything else that stood out about him that would remind you of him.
For example, if it were Klee, you could have gotten her a new book bag or matching hats for her and Dodoco. Sucrose would be happy to get a new chemistry set. She definitely needed one after breaking a few beakers. Whereas Diluc… Nothing.
You started to think about certain gifts. Candles were a good option if that didn’t scream, ‘I don’t know you’. He never wore accessories. No rings, necklaces, or bracelets. Perhaps he didn’t like them but a hairpin from Liyue would be worth the trip. You let out a frustrated sigh, scratching the back of your head.
Was there anyone who knew what he liked that you could ask them?
Well, there were a few people. Now that you think about it, asking them probably isn’t a good idea either. Donna was off the table. You aren’t sure how far her title as a fan of Diluc’s went. And you also didn’t know if Barbara had asked her to be part of the event. That means Donna would definitely get jealous since you got the person she wanted.
Next was Kaeya. Asking him was fifty—fifty. He was rather sneaky and playful. Definitely the type of person to come up with a lie so you’d gift Diluc something he hated all because Kaeya wanted to mess with him. Or maybe you’d get the lucky half and he would be kind enough to actually say something his brother likes.
Then the people who worked for Diluc were also not a good choice. For one, you didn’t know them well enough to know if they’d keep this a secret. Two, they probably didn’t know Diluc well enough to tell you what he liked or disliked the most.
You were already stressed out, even if you had an entire month. You carefully stuffed the slip of paper into the front pocket of your apron. Thankfully, you were going on your break soon. You tapped your fingers on the countertop as you thought of what to do.
The worst idea yet came to your mind. You were just going to have to ask Diluc himself. You can't blurt out and reveal you got him for the Secret Santa event. Since your conversations with him are very brief, in order to do this, it needs to be in the most discreet manner possible. That way, it won’t make him get suspicious of you.
“Diluc!” He heard his name being called. Instinctively, he looked over at the tavern entrance after passing a customer their drink. He saw you approaching the bar while smiling at him. “How are you?”
“(Y/N).” Diluc gave a curt nod and picked up an empty glass cup. You sat down on a stool, watching him clean the area for you with a wet rag. “It’s good to see you. I’m doing fine. I assume your shift has ended?” He motioned to your uniform. You occasionally came to Angel’s Share when you were off the clock. It was just to relax for a few minutes and socialize before heading home for the day.
“I’m on my break right now.” You said. You scouted the first floor to see who was here. The floor was nearly deserted, only consisting of the tavern’s usual customers. You turned back to Diluc, thinking about the slip with his name on it in your pocket. “What about you? Are you leaving soon?”
“No. I may be here all day.” Diluc said. You needed to make this worth the while. No way were you leaving the city to go all the way to the winery. “Charles wasn’t feeling well.”
He finished wiping down the counter and threw the rag over his shoulder. He didn’t have his coat on since the tavern was relatively warm. The weather outside was getting colder as the days went on.
“What can I get for you?” He asked.
“A berry and mint burst.” It was what you normally got whenever you paid a visit.
As Diluc grabbed one of the glasses to make your drink, you thought this would be a good time to ease into the conversation. He seemed concentrated on making your drink so he probably might not be too responsive. Either way, you needed to try.
“I feel like we don’t talk a lot.” You said, as Diluc poured the light blue liquid into the cup. He let out a confused hum at your statement and set the bottle back down. He stepped away from the counter, searching for the remaining ingredients that belonged in your drink.
“And what do you mean by that?” He sounded as intimidating and serious as he always did.
“We don’t talk a lot.” You said. He carefully pushed your drink in your direction. “I think we’re more acquaintances than friends. Don’t you?” You grabbed your drink in one hand.
Diluc rested on the counter as he narrowed his eyes at you. His gaze seemed to be studying you instead of being mad at something you said. The guy sitting next to you left a few Mora on the countertop and left the tavern. He also left behind two cups to be picked up and cleaned.
“I say the same, yes.” Diluc said, scooping the Mora on the wooden counter.
His responses are repeats of what you say. It makes it feel like he’s simply not interested in having a conversation. Plus, he is always seen with an uninterested expression. His personality is nowhere near Kaeya’s.
Getting Diluc to talk is harder than you thought. At this point, you wanted to be straightforward and admit what you were truly here for.
“What’s your favorite thing about yourself?” You suddenly asked. Too strong of a question. He would figure out what your intentions were by it. Diluc raised an eyebrow as he dried one of the cups with a different rag than the one from earlier.
“What’s my favorite thing about myself?” He repeated your question. He glanced down at the cup before turning around. He sorted it out with the stack of cups used by tavern customers. You heard him say the question again but much lower this time. Eventually, he crossed his arms, staring at the wall before giving his answer. “I love my long, luscious and luxurious red hair.”
“Wait— What?” You sputtered.
“I answered your question. My favorite thing about myself is my hair.” Diluc faced you. He had his normal stoic expression. Was he telling the truth or poorly executing a joke? You squint your eyes. Diluc’s hair was well taken care of. Out of all his features, his hair and the color of it stood out the most. The length of it also suited him. Diluc with short hair was like a nightmare. Maybe because he never wore it in any other style except his ponytail. “Is that not something I can say?”
“No, no,” You said, taking a sip from your drink. The minty taste made your eyes water. “I didn’t expect you to say that. I thought you would have said your eyes. Your hair is really pretty.”
He managed to make his hair look like silk. There had been times you were tempted to touch it. As you put your cup back on the wooden counter, you thought of your next question.
“How do you get your hair to look like that?” You placed your chin on the palm of your hand. Whatever routine he said, you might need to start using it.
“Slime condensate.” Diluc petted the tips of his hair. Your expression changed to one of disbelief. “It needs to be the thick hydro slimes from Inazuma. I like to get them from Watatsumi Island since the area is surrounded by water.”
You had to take some time to process what he said. The infamous Dawn Winery owner put slime in his hair to keep it “luscious” and “luxurious” at all times. You had never heard of anyone putting slime in their hair. You scratched the top of your head. Whenever Diluc said something new about himself, the idea of giving him a gift for this event seemed impossible.
That wasn’t the only time you went to Angel’s Share. You went back for an entire week, trying to pry information out of Diluc. There needed to be one thing he liked and was willing to share with you. The only problem with that was to have him stop talking about his hair.
“I love my hair color. Did you know it’s natural?”
“It’s so hard to keep it this soft. If the slime isn’t from Inazuma, my hair gets all tangled.”
“Cut it? No, I’d never cut it. I’ve been growing it out since I was a child. My father’s hair was exactly like mine.”
You didn’t take him as the narcissist type or the kind of person to be full of himself.
Your last hope at getting him a gift was what he used for his hair. Diluc let you know what the process to get the slime condensate was. He said it is called an extraction. It was harmless to the slimes. In order for this to happen, he or someone else would grab hold of a slime. As this is going on, the other person will begin to pluck out condensate from under the bottom part.
You weren’t going to make it to Inazuma and return to Mondstadt in time for the party.
Sara went with you to find Herta and ask her to send your commission over to Inazuma. She was a little skeptical at how overly specific but she said with enough Mora, someone over there would be willing to take up the challenge.
That was two weeks ago. The party was in a week from now. You started to panic. Did no one take up your commission? You asked Lumine to take an impromptu trip to Liyue and see what items you could find.
She agreed. The Honorary Knight protected you along the way. Thankfully, there weren’t any monsters that attacked you on your trip. Liyue had rarer beauties that cost a lot more. In the end, it was going to be worth it. You found the gift after hours of searching. This was reserved only if the condensate didn’t make it to Mondstadt on time.
“Pardon me,” A tall, unknown man approached since there wasn’t a line. You could tell he was from another region. He had a box underneath his arm. His white, puffy coat covered his entire body. The hood he had on covered the majority of his blue hair. With good reason. The cold weather this year was entirely different. At least you were near the fire. “My name is Kamisato Ayato. I’m looking for a lady by the name of (Y/N). She requested a commission in Inazuma.”
“That’s me.” You said.
“Ah, wonderful. This makes it all the much easier.” He placed the box on top of the counter. The gloves he was currently wearing were white while the inside had a sort of dark purple lining. He removed the hood from over his head, settling his hands on top of the mysterious box. “The person who did your commission told me to be very careful with it. He said he went out of his way to make it the very best.”
“Did you come all this way just to deliver it yourself?” You felt a little guilty but Ayato let out a chuckle.
“No, no. I’m the leader of the Yashiro Commission.” He waved his hand, “I’m in Mondstadt for the holidays. I thought it was a good idea to bring over your commission. That way you wouldn’t have to wait too long.” He patted the box before insisting you take it.
You pulled the box over, noticing how heavy it was.
“Anyway, everything has already been paid for on our end.” Ayato said, adjusting his coat. “I was also told to pass on a message to you. If you had any more… Specific commissions to be done in Inazuma, simply request for Arataki Itto. He’s more than willing to help.”
That must have been the guy who did your commission. You hope to meet him in person one day to thank him over and over for what he did.
“Thank you very much.” You flashed Ayato a smile. He did the same in return, “Enjoy your holidays and your stay in Mondstadt!”
“Thank you,” He bowed his head, “The same goes to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
As soon as Ayato was gone, you decided it was a good idea to open the box. Your jaw dropped at the contents. It was a lot more than you had asked for. Considering what was given, you had definitely underpaid this Itto guy. Either he was a perfectionist or he was extremely reckless.
The jars of slime were actually much bigger than you expected. Maybe you should have been specific on that as well. How many hydro slimes on Watatsumi Island had to undergo an extraction to get all this condensate? Even though Diluc said the extraction process is not harmful for the slimes and they’re constantly growing, you’re starting to feel bad for them.
At least it arrived at a good time before the party. With the slime condensate here, your gift for Diluc was ready. But you had both items. There wasn’t any point in keeping the second gift for yourself. Maybe it would give you a hint on what Diluc likes. Hopefully next year, Donna was the one stuck with him instead of you.
The party was being hosted at Angel’s Share. It was closed for the holiday and with his permission, Diluc allowed Barbara to have the party there. So long as she prepared all the decorations and food. He didn’t mind making the drinks since it would allow him to keep a better eye on Venti.
When you arrived, the ongoing scene was a bit of a mess. Barbara was apologizing profusely to someone. You recognized one of them. Ayato, the man from the other day. He laughed loudly when he noticed Barbara beginning to tear up. Next to him was a girl who had similar features. She chuckled softly when Ayato hugged Barbara and reassured her everything was fine. The girl had to be related to him.
“You’re here.” You heard Diluc’s voice. He had been at the bar but spotted you as soon as you came through the door. His eyes landed on the gift you were holding. “If you’d like, you can leave that over there. Barbara said we’ll open the gifts after eating and once everyone is here.” Diluc motioned to a round table in a corner. Several of the partygoers left their gifts either on the table or on the floor. Some were big, others small. You were curious to find out which one was meant for you.
“Okay, thanks.” You went over to the table and placed the gift next to one that was the same size. You weren’t about to carry that around all night. The glass jars were too heavy for that.
After you put your gift with the rest, you decided to join the rest of the crowd.
You found out that Kamisato Ayato was Diluc’s closest friend. He and his sister, Ayaka, came to Mondstadt to celebrate the holiday with Diluc. Last year, he was the one who went to Inazuma to visit the siblings. Barbara was apologizing because she didn’t know they would be here. And if she did, she’d prepare a gift so that neither would feel left out. They let her know it was an unforeseen event and she had no reason to apologize.
Bennett and Fischl were the last to arrive. Afterwards, Barbara asked everyone to come to the first floor and get their gifts so she could explain the rules. You placed yours underneath your chair. Jean sat next to you, keeping hers on her lap and making small talk about who she guessed you had.
The table in the corner was soon empty. Whoever went first, the person who received the gift would go next. So on and so on until all gifts were exchanged.
Donna decided to start the chain off. For an odd reason, she had two gifts. You all gave each other the same knowing look. One gift was meant for her Secret Santa and the other was obviously meant for Diluc. If anything, you were already aware she had selected a better choice in present for him. Except Barbara didn’t let her give it to him right away and told her to wait until everything was over.
She had Bennett. From Bennett, it went over to Klee. He had gifted the little girl a new backpack and a tiny one for Dodoco. Klee’s gift went to Razor. He might have been the happiest one from the night. Eventually the chain went around to Albedo who had just opened his gift from Lisa.
“For my Secret Santa, I got (Y/N).” Albedo handed you a wrapped box.
It had candy canes all over the paper and a giant bow on the top. You heard some rustling inside. You tore the wrapping paper off the sides. Removing it fully, you opened the box and your eyes widened in astonishment. Albedo had carefully packaged two glass cloches beside each other. They contained flowers sprouting on the inside. He went as far as adding grass to the base and making it seem like a small garden.
“I managed to find a way to preserve cecilias and glaze lilies.” He explained and helped you take one of them out to show everyone else. “I remember you said they’re your favorite flowers. These will never die even if you take the glass off of them. And you won’t need to water them either.”
“Thank you so much, Albedo!” You said, opening up one arm to give him a hug. He reciprocated the action. “And I love how you painted butterflies on the glass domes!”
“Actually, they’re called cloches.” Ayato corrected from across the room, making your attention go from Albedo to him. Ayaka ended up smacking his knee with her fan. The entire room let out a collective laugh at the two siblings bickering.
Your eyes drifted over to Diluc who sat next to the Kamisato siblings. It seemed like he already knew he was going to be next. Both of his hands are on his lap, waiting to get his gift. He was staring at you intently and tapping his gloved hand against his thigh. You set Albedo’s gift next to your chair with extra care.
“My gift is to Diluc.” You said. You slid out the wrapped box from underneath your chair. You had both your hands holding the bottom side of the box. Watching your step, you made your way to the other side of the room where Diluc was.
“Ah, this should be interesting.” Ayato said with a grin on his face. He shifted in his chair, body leaning towards his friend. He seemed more interested in the gift than the person who was receiving it.
“It’s heavy.” You said, nervously. You gently handed it over to Diluc.
“Thank you.” He took it in his arms and placed it on the floor between his feet. Ayato moved his chair closer to get a better view of what your gift to his best friend would be. Diluc waited until you sat back down in your chair. He began to unwrap the ribbon you’d tied around the entire box. He pulled on one edge of the lace, allowing it to unravel on its own.
After that was over, he lifted off the top of the box. You watched anxiously to see his reaction to your gift. When Diluc saw what was inside, a small smirk came on his lips. Meanwhile, Ayato scrunched up his eyebrows at the peculiar choice. He realized what the items were and why exactly your commission had been such a weird request.
Diluc kept the lid on his lap. He crouched over in his chair and pulled out one of the seven items inside.
In his hands, Diluc held a glass jar filled to the top with slime condensate. There wasn't only one in there. You had asked for a minimum of three jars in your commission and sent over enough Mora for their troubles. But, being the nice person he was, Itto decided to get you a total of—
“Six jars of slime condensate.” Diluc held it up in the air as if he was examining it. You started to feel a little embarrassed when he spun it around and showed it off the rest of the crowd. They each side eyed each other, wondering what kind of present that was. You actively avoided their gazes as they questioned your choice. Why did he have to start off with the worst gift? “I’m assuming they come from Watatsumi Island?” He said in a slight teasing tone.
Diluc’s lips twitched upwards when he glanced over at you. He shook the jar a little, the slime bouncing around. It clinked against the other jars as he carefully set it back into the gift box. Next, he moved onto the second gift. Right beside all of the six jars was a dark red jewelry box. It had a geo symbol carved on the top which Diluc knew you got it from Liyue.
He placed it on his lap and cautiously opened it since he wasn’t sure of what was inside. Inside, the box had a black velvety texture. It had two separate sections. Ayato heard his friend let out a small snicker before composing himself and turning it around for the remaining partygoers to see.
“It’s a matching hairbrush and a hair comb.” Diluc said.
Both the brush and comb were designed to be the same. They had been marbleized with red and gold. What stood out the most was the hair comb. The accessory had been made to resemble a phoenix. Its wings were outstretched and the beak pointed upwards. If placed in the hair correctly, it was supposed to give off the illusion the phoenix was flying.
“Oh, how beautiful.” Ayaka silently complimented.
The jewelry box closed with a snap and Diluc set it beside the six jars of slime condensate. He closed the lid of his gift and a wide smile spread on his face. For some reason, you felt like he found this entire situation hilarious.
“Thank you, (Y/N). I’m especially grateful for the slime.” He said. Diluc cleared his throat right after and the smile disappeared. He ended up picking up his gift and announced who his Secret Santa was. “My gift is to Sucrose.”
The remaining gifts were passed around until everyone had opened their gifts. They were all thoughtful and generous.
Everyone loved their gifts and it was perfect for their personalities. Yet, your eyes kept looking over at Diluc’s present. He had to be lying. The party continued as normal. People broke off into their separate groups, ate the remaining leftovers and treats, and played a few games. The gifts, held dear in everyone’s hearts, were forgotten at the moment.
An hour passed and you thought it would be a good time to leave the party. You put your coat on as well as your gloves. Thankfully, you didn’t live too far from the tavern. There should still be a few guards patrolling the city in case of intruders.
“I’m going to be leaving now.” You said to Barbara while holding your gift from Albedo. You wanted to thank him again only to find out he’d left with Klee a long time ago. The little girl was starting to get sleepy and tried to play it off that she wasn’t tired.
“You are? Aw, I wanted you to stay a little longer!” Barbara said. Diluc overheard your conversation and he had already slipped on his red jacket.
“Allow me to walk you home. I insist.” He said, opening the tavern door. Cold air rushed in causing his cheeks and nose to get rosy. “Barbara, if I don’t return soon and everyone has left, don’t worry about cleaning the mess. Head home as well.” He instructed before leaving the tavern right after you.
The door closed. Diluc fixed his jacket as he began following you.
He only had plans to drop you off at your home safely and return to the tavern. You were both walking in silence. You glanced out the corner of your eye. Diluc’s hands were in his pockets. He had a small smile on his face. It was starting to get to you. The smile had the appearance he knew something and purposely refused to tell you what it was. You exhaled loudly, deciding to confront and get it over with. It would be better for him to be honest.
“You didn’t like your gift… Did you?” You asked, stopping in your tracks. You tilted your head to the side and turned to face him.
“I did like my gift. Why would you ask that question?” He answered.
“Why are you smiling like that then?” You nodded your head. It was really in the most innocent and subconscious manner. Diluc didn’t want you to take it the wrong way so it was a good time to come clean. Especially since the hunt for gifts and the party was over. He left his gift in the tavern, right behind the bar counter so no one would find it.
“I have something to admit.” He said.
Oh. Your eyes widened slightly. You took a step back. Donna was going to be mad.
“I lied to you. I don’t actually use slime condensate in my hair.”
Oh. You narrowed your eyes at the man standing in front of you. Scratch that, you were going to be mad. The smile on Diluc’s face grew a lot more visible.
“What?” You finally spoke up. “You’re joking, right?”
“No. I’m not joking.” He shook his head. Your jaw dropped at the confirmation. “I don’t use it. If anyone does, they must be out of their mind to put that in their hair.”
“So you were faking the entire time?!” You shouted. He had led you to believe his hair was his favorite feature and that he cared for it the most. All those times he complained about running low on slime and he might need to find a replacement before getting his new stash from Inazuma. Pure lies he made on the spot. He was so convincing, you thought all he loved in life was slime condensate. “Diluc, you’re such a jerk!” You would have punched him if you weren’t carrying your gift. He grinned briefly at your weak insult.
“Is it my fault you were terrible at hiding you had me for Secret Santa?” He said. He began to walk again and you sped up to join him. You had to be honest. Your attempts were very pitiful when you spoke with Diluc that entire week. It’s much easier to talk with him at the moment than beforehand. “Though, I like your gift more than Donna’s.”
That’s an accomplishment.
“Are you sure six jars were necessary?”
“Leave me alone.”
#꒰ ⚔️┊genshin impact ꒱#gixrsecretsanta2023#favoniuslibrary#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff#diluc ragnvindr fluff#genshin diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x you#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc x reader#diluc x you#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc ragnivindr x you
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bonds of ichor and viscera
summary: no matter how long time kept them apart, the bond of twins always prevails (or your twin sibling shows up to bully you for playing god)
word count: 3k+
tags: @eternally-smitten , @felixrichtershubby , @sugar-and-pearls , @blairyl (lmk if you want to be tagged)
The dull rattle of the wooden door under Mavis fist as she knocked echoed in the night air. She gave a small yawn as she rubbed her eyes. The dark haired woman looked at the paper in her hand. A messily scribbled address on it and a name. She was hoping this was the right place and she wasn't accidentally disturbing some poor sod if the person she was looking for wasn't there.
She could hear the heavy patter of footsteps on the other side of the door as they neared the door before the sound of locks sliding before the door was pulled open. Dark haired man who looked like he could use some sleep opened it and Mavis gave him a bright smile.
“Uh hello, is this the residence of uhm..”
She looked down at the piece of paper to squint behind her glasses as she tried her best to read the messy handwriting.
“Daniel Cain! Sorry kinda of forgot the name.” Mavis chirped.
Daniel rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked at his cheery girl who stood on his doorstep in the late hours or the night. There was something oddly familiar about her that he couldn't place exactly and it was a bit uncanny to say the least.
“Yes and you are?” He asked as he leaned against the door.
“Oh sorry, my name is Mavis West. I'm looking for Herbert West.” Mavis waved off before she made a small nonverbal motion for her to come in.
Daniel obliged and let the wavy haired girl bounce on in as she took in the space of his in. He was kind of glad that Megan wasn't there at the moment, it would have been too much chaos after what happened with Rufus.
“Are you two…” He asked.
His question had Mavis letting out a bark of laughter before she frantically shook her head at the man.
“No, No, I'm his twin. I'm surprised he probably never mentioned it but then again it is Herbert so I'm also not really surprised. Is he here?” Mavis asked between her light giggles.
She had swiveled on her old beat up converse all stars as she looked at Dan. She could see the mild skeptical look in his eyes. It was something she was used to when it came to dropping that on people. Not everyone believes the two were of the same womb but in fact they very much were.
Daniel took a moment before he nodded his head and brushed a hand through his hair. He made a idly motion to the basement door, something he wasn't too keen on going towards at this hour of the night. He was still processing everything.
“Yeah, he's downstairs. Whoa you are just gonna go down there?” Daniel asked as he watched her quickly take the motion to be where her twin was.
She was definitely brave, he'd give her that. He wasn't sure if she even knew. Daniel was sure she didn't with the way her strides carried her like there was nothing wrong.
“Uh, yeah. He's my brother, I spent nine months in confinement with that weirdo. Whatever little lab experiments he's up to I can handle.” The young woman waved off to him.
Mavis carried herself in pride as she strode to the basement door before she felt a strong hand on her bicep slightly pulling her back. Her hazel eyes met Daniel's dark ones as they stared at each other. She could see how Daniel was trying to figure something to say to her.
“Wait wait, you should probably know something before you go down there…” Daniel cautiously said.
Mavis didn't get a chance to respond before the sound of the basement door opening and the sound of footsteps followed. Both Daniel and Mavis' heads snapped towards the direction to see Herbert emerging from the basement.
The siblings stared each other down for a moment before a gentle smile came to Mavis lips as she heard her brother speak.
“Mavis?”
“Well speak of the devil, hello dearest brother of mine.” Mavis joker lightly as Daniel let go of her arm.
“I see you've met Dan.” Herbert said as she looked between them.
Herbert’s lips pursed for a minute as he looked between the two. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about how close Dan was to his sister and in the darkness his eyes squinted a bit in protectiveness.
“That I have. A sweet guy, better not corrupt him. Sorry to cut it short, it is nice to meet you Dan but I do have to talk to my brother alone.” Mavis snorted.
She knew her brother well and knew how he was acting within the shadows. He may not have outwardly shown much emotion most of their life but she knew the little quirks of when he did. Ever so protective of her just like when they were kids.
“Now?” He asked.
“Yes now.”
Herbert had been quick to wave at Daniel, letting the tired med student go back to get some sleep as he and his twin made their way down the stairs. He could just feel there was something she wanted to say to him but didn't get a chance too when he heard her footsteps stop and turned around to look at her.
“So when were you going to tell me you got back from Germany or was that never going to happen.” Mavis asked him as she folded her arms and looked at him.
“I was going to eventually.” Herbert swallowed.
He knew that look in her eyes. It was the same one their mother had when the two of them often snuck off in their teens. A look of worry but also frustration. He felt some remorse, he probably should have told her soon. They were the only family they had left but he had drowned himself into his work.
“It's been six months since you've been back. I sent you a letter and I got one back saying you had left after an accident.” Mavis countered as she let out a huff.
There was hurt in her eyes that he couldn't continuously look at before he went to continue his way down the stairs. Mavis wasn't going to have that, he couldn't worm his way out of this from her.
“Herbert look at me,” Mavis said as she snatched him quickly by his arm, turning him to face her.
“Hey!” He protested but he was quickly cut off.
“What did you do? They said something about being involved with a doctor's murder.” Mavis' voice was low as she looked at him.
There wasn't aggression in her eyes but disappointed muddied by worries in him. But she still looked at him like he was her brother. They were of the same flesh, they were still family even if he had killed someone.
“It wasn't murder, I was giving him life.” Herbert said quietly.
Mavis looked confused but her tight grip on her brother's bicep loosened. She looked at him with a morbid curiosity that brought that strange smile to his face. He knew he had her enraptured by a single sentence.
“What are you on about?” Mavis asked him in a similar hushed tone.
“It's better I show you, Mavs.” Herbert replied.
He pried his arm from her grasp and motioned for her to follow deeper into the heart of the basement.
As their footsteps hit the cement floors Mavis recoiled from the stench of death. She knew it well with her job and it was the sign of decay. She moved around her brother to get a look of the basement. It was small but not super small, it probably only looked as such with the clutter. There were beakers and tubes all around, syringes with remains of a bioluminescent green liquid staining them.
Mavis’ eyes followed around as she pulled a white sheet away from a part of the table before her hazel eyes flickered down and she recoiled a bit. The dead body of a black cat was still on the table, its guts sprawled against matted fur and a soiled sheet beneath it. She instinctively brought her arm up to her face as she dropped the sheet and looked at Herbert.
“What the fuck? Do I even want to ask why you have body parts strewn about?” Mavis' voice was muffled by her arm.
She watched as her brother moved around, the two already falling into a comfortable routine as he stepped to a fridge. She heard the seal of her break as he pulled out a bottle of bright green liquid and what seemed to be animal corpse but she wasn't super sure. Herbert turned around to look at her before the bottle was shoved into her hand.
“Hush, it's important what I need to show you. Hold this.” Herbert told her.
He knew that he could trust her with it, he had always been able to trust her with his research and her vice versa.
“What is it?” Mavis asked.
She looked at the bottle, feeling the cold plastic against her palm as she stared at that flowing liquid that he had shoved into her hands.
“You ask too many questions. But my reanimating reagent.”
The question seemingly confused Mavis to no end, her mind wrapping around it as Herbert had set the corpse of roadkill onto the table. He pulled the adjustable light into place as it shone down onto the creature wrapped in fabric.
“You're what now?” Mavis questioned as she looked at him.
“You heard me. Now fill up the syringe, I would assume your mortician duties have prepared you enough for that.” Herbert snapped back as he met his sister's eyes with that smirk of his before handing her a clean syringe.
Mavis let out a huff and took the syringe from him and looked at the bottle. She shook her head softly before she was taking the top off of the bottle and slipping the tip of the syringe in to draw out the liquid.
“Oh shut up.” She snorted.
She filled the syringe to a certain line before Herbert was stopping her and stood up a bit more straight to talk to her. The way he stood reminded her of a lecture, she almost felt like she was back in a classroom.
“Okay, so this raccoon was killed…” Herbert explained as she peeled the cloth back from the raccoon’s body.
Mavis looked at the raccoon and then back at Herbert before she let out a small laugh.
“That raccoon is a pancake.” Mavis pointed out.
“You are going to keep jabbering or let me explain?” Herbert countered. His hands were placed at his hips like he was reprimanding a talkative student.
Mavis puffed out her cheeks and rolled her eyes making a motion for him to continue his little lecture with some impatience.
“Sorry Herbie Werbie, continue.” She added.
Herbert rolled his eyes at the nickname but didn't make any comment to correct it. It was endearing to him even if he didn't admit it to her.
“You are annoying. But as I was saying, I was killed a couple hours ago. My reagent in layman terms brings the dead back to life.” He explained to her.
Herbert watched her thoughts swirl behind her eyes as she took in what he said to her. He could see the gears working and the small look of disbelief. He saw it in Daniel's eyes the first time too, it just took a simple demonstration and that look of disbelief would change.
“Bullshit.” Mavis whispered.
Herbert could see she was already leaning to believe. They didn't lie to each other, the other would know somehow. He never understood it but he guessed in this case their strange twin sense was working in their favor. Herbert rolled up his sleeves and held out his hand to her.
“Hand me the syringe.”
Mavis handed the syringe over to him after some hesitancy and followed him quickly like his shadow. Her eyes followed in an unbridled curiosity. She watched as her brother's hands combed through the greasy fur of the raccoon as he traced down its spine to the base of its neck.
She watched as Herbert handled it with great care and precision as he slowly pushed the needle into the spine and drained that reagent into the corpse of the raccoon. She watched as the needle left the critter’s neck and her brother set it down. Her eyes watched the syringe as the reagent left residue behind. Her mind twisted and paced with thoughts before she looked back at the raccoon.
Herbert had backed up a bit, Mavis scuffling back with him as the twins watched the corpse of the roadkill. The room felt deadly silent besides their anticipating breathing as they watched. Herbert made a quick look of his watch, pushing his glasses up his nose before ear piercing screech of agony ripped from the raccoon.
Mavis cringed at the sound and she felt her heart ache as she heard that sound from the animal. It sounded like it was in so much pain but then again the beginning of life was painful too.
“Oh my god. How?” Mavis said over the screeching of the roadkill as it writhed on the table.
“A lot of time and effort but I have found a cure for death.” Herbert said with that almost manic grin as he looked at her.
Mavis was dumbfounded. Her head was running so quickly she couldn't stop herself from the next comment that left her lips.
“You're playing god.” She told him.
“I am not! I'm a scientist and I have found a cure for death.” Herbert snapped. He watched as Mavis flinched a little bit before he took in a deep breath as he knew she need some time to figure out what she was seeing.
“Herbert look at that fucking thing. It's writhing in agony!” Mavis pointed out to him in a frantic tone.
Herbert knew his sister well enough; the whole death fascinated her; she also cared about the living. He was not one to torture his own sister even if he was ever forced too. Herbert let out a huff and walked over to the table of the writhing reanimated raccoon. His hands wrapped around the base of the neck before a loud crack echoed in the room and the creature fell silent. All he heard was the shaky breath of his sister as he covered the body up again.
“It's not perfect, Mavis. I'm still working on it. Figure out the limits but I have conquered death.” Hebert told her.
The silence that had settled between them after as she sat down in a stool next to him was enough for him to speak to her. He had been watching all her little ticks and movements as she worked through her thoughts.
“I know that curiosity in your eyes, sister. You couldn't hide it if you tried.” Herbert added with an easy tone.
Mavis looked up at him and gave a small nod. He wasn't wrong, that was for sure.
“I mean, yeah, fuck I guess I am. I'm fascinated by this.” She told him.
Mavis just looked at her brother as she admitted to him. She wasn't so sure how to feel about the fact this on it's own had so many moral implications but the fact she also wanted to see it work on a broader scale and Herbert could feel that, he just knew.
“I knew you'd be. We've shared the same fascination for years.” He said with a small laugh. A silence filled the basement space again before Mavis spoke up this time.
“Have you started human trials?” She asked him.
“No, I would like to.”
His answer was what she expected. She figured that he hadn't started human trials just yet, it still meant she could help.
“I want to help.” Mavis told him with a hopeful look.
The look threw Herbert off a little bit. He had wrapped Daniel up into this with manipulation but here his own sister was willing to help. It was always nice to have the reminder they were somewhat similar in terms.
“You don't think I'm insane?” Herbert asked.
Mavis looked at him with a pointed look when those words left his mouth before she replied.
“You want my honest answer on that one?”
“Actually, nevermind.”
“It's what I thought.”
After the demonstration and helping clean up the small space, the twins found themselves outside on the porch sitting next to each other. The night was cool with a breeze and Herbert had to admit some fresh air was better than constantly smelling rot and decay down in that basement.
“I want you to know I'm going to be around more.” Mavis spoke.
Herbert looked at his sister as she looked at him. He was a bit taken off guard by those words. He knew she had made a life for herself back up in the Pacific Northwest and couldn't have seen her giving that up to help him with this.
“Huh?” He said in a confused tone.
“I transferred. I'm gonna finish the rest of my schooling out here then out in Washington.” Mavis clarified to him with a smile on her face. She could see that he was thinking about what she had said.
“Why? You've got your own life up there.”
Mavis waved him off and pulled him into a side hug before ruffling his hair as she spoke to him.
“You're my brother, Herbert. Someone's gonna make sure you don't go all Victor Frankenstein on us.” She joked to him.
Herbert rolled his eyes from both the gesture and the comparison as she tried to squirm out of his sister's grasp who just tightened it to put him in a playful headlock with a laugh.
“Oh don't start.” He groaned.
“Oh I'm going to, Dr. Frankenstein.” Mavis teased as she messed up his hair before letting him go. As she let him go her shoulder gently knocked into his in a form of affection.
“I hate you.” Herbert said as he returned the gesture with a smile on his face.
“I love you too.”
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7, 34, and 16 for the ask game!
hello!! ty for the ask!!
Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
here's a spoiler-free excerpt from Immor's backstory for dnd games! I think this counts as prose even though he's narrating it himself?
My son took very strongly to the fine arts; ocarina music and singing became common background noise to my life, and oftentimes he would hide away in his room for hours on end to write poetry, paint, or do otherwise. Once I entered to find him painting the walls a bright pastel yellow; on another occurrence I went in and found him painting a mural on the ceiling. The room, over time, became the most colorful and decorated mess of a place; he scattered the walls and surfaces of that room with whatever he pleased, be it paintings, poetry, or dried flowers. He inked doodles and lines from books directly onto the surface of his desk; other times, the ink spilled and made stains, which he would draw around until it was art in its own right. He collected broken glass and spent hours and hours sanding down and polishing it before wrapping each piece delicately in wire and hanging them in chains from his window; he picked up every last interesting rock or lost trinket he found in the dirt and put it on proud display on his shelves. Once for our anniversary he made Regaya and I a tiny painting of us in the garden together—this I’ve taken with me on my journey, you may have noticed, as it reminds me of both him and Regaya. He made it before he was twenty, but as soon as he had earned his name, I allowed him to sign the corner—he wrote it backwards, just as he writes everything (he and I are both left-handed, but he deals with it differently than I).
I really really love getting to describe Immerlias's room because it's just so thoroughly covered with evidence of who he is as a person!!! PLUS this paragraph has a smidgen of worldbuilding detail and a bit of a highlight between Immor and Immerlias's personalities at the end—faced with being left handed in a time when ink smudged even more easily than it does today, Immor just powered through it and learned to write with his right hand, and then there's Immerlias who writes literally everything backwards so you need a mirror to even have a chance of it being legible bc his handwriting is tiny and really bad on top of it lmao
If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?
assuming romantic, Immor and Regaya. sorry Blue and Creed sorry Eshowi and Lan sorry every other character I have that is not aromantic but Immor and Regaya are my Blorbos In Chief when it comes to romance
What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?
obviously I'd certainly never glorify or romanticize it, but I'd be lying if I said I'd never touched on the topic at all before. ig my thoughts are to handle the topic very carefully if you're writing it, and if you don't want to read that, if it is triggering, filter out the tag so you don't have see it, yk?
ty again for the ask!!
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in this together
a/n: Is it really a study date if the two of you end up sleeping? edit There is now a title
tagging @justanothercamilofan bcs i said i would tag iya (my confidence was 📈 at the time pls dont ask)
word count: 872 i got lazy sorry
— — — — —
“We are definitely failing this quiz,” You throw an eraser at Camilo, “Don’t say that! We are going to - at least - pass this quiz. We won’t get anything done if all we do is complain.” You turn to your notebook, which was filled with nonsense conversations you and Camilo have during class.
“Ay Dios mío, we are going to fail.”
Camilo looks over your shoulder and frowns. “Is that my handwriting?” You nod. “Damn.” He flips through his notebook as well. “I’ve got... a few notes. But I don’t know which topics.” You ask for his notebook and flip through both of your notes, trying to piece the little tidbits of information scattered. “Do you think Mirabel has notes?” Camilo shrugs. “Probably a few. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
“What do you mean tomorrow? We’re taking the quiz tomorrow, hello? Te volviste estúpido?” (Did you become stupid?) Camilo holds your hand. “Don’t worry, I know you’ll do well.” He looks around for a pen and some paper.
We could just cheat in the exam, amor ;)
“¡¿Has perdido la cabeza?!” (Have you lost your mind?!) Of course, you considered that as well, but only as a last resort. The teacher of the subject you and Camilo are studying for is a particularly strict person; the “no nonsense” kind. The class was obedient under their presence. “Crees demasiado bajo de mí, mi amor.,” (You think too low of me, my love.) Camilo chuckles, “I suggested it as a joke. Don’t worry.” He grabs a book from under his table. “I borrowed it from Mirabel.”
Camilo quickly shapeshifts into Mirabel and mimics her voice, “Remember, Cami. Don’t damage the book,” ‘Mirabel’ scoffs, “Stop laughing! I’m serious!”
A thud on the door. “I can hear you! I hope you fail tomorrow’s quiz!” Mirabel enters the room with a smile, “Not you, though, Y/N. Goodluck! I’m sure you’ll get a great score.” She walks towards you two and flips through the pages of her book. “I’ve highlighted what parts are going to appear on the quiz. If you need any help, Y/N,” Mirabel glares at Camilo, “I’ll be in the kitchen!”
“How are you going to study though?” Mirabel flaunts her bag, “I’ve got my notes here! I’ll be fine! Plus, I studied yesterday so I think I’m good. Worry about your boyfriend.” You look at Camilo, then Mirabel. “We’ll be fine! Thanks, Mirabel!”
The door closes and Camilo turns to you. “We could skip classes tomorrow. I do it all the time.”
“Camilo. You are on to something. We’ll study first.” You rewrite some of Mirabel’s notes onto a piece of paper.
“I could go ask people from other classes how the test was, and if a lot of them say it’s hard then we could just say we’re sick-”
Without looking up from the book, you reply, “The teacher knows you’re a Madrigal, he’ll just tell you to eat one of your Tia’s arepas that’s in the room. Isn’t Dolores hearing this?” You turn to Camilo and hand him the book. “We should quiz each other after reading.” Camilo yarns. “Boring!”
“For every correct answer, you get a kiss..?.”
Camilo shifts on the spot: you, then the teacher, then himself once again.
“Stop disturbing me! I need to study!”
“I wasn’t saying anything…” You laugh before going back to your notes.
— — — — —
“Alright… I think I’m done reading, amor!” You squint your eyes at him, “That was quick. I guess I’ll have to test you now.” Camilo stretches his arms. “This’ll be easy. It’s like hiding Mirabel’s glasses.”
“You what?”
Camilo winks at you. “Nothing! Ask away!”
You shrug and look through your notes. With that, you could ask Camilo around twenty questions. “Are you ready?” Camilo grins. “Bring it on.”
You ask Camilo the first question, he gets it correct.
“Where’s my kiss?”
“You’re dead to me.” You say as you plant a kiss on the back of his hand. “Next questio-”
“I want to ask you a question!” You aren’t sure where the sudden energy came from, but you reply. “Alright.”
“Okay, I have two questions: one, why not on the lips?” You try to answer, but are shushed by Camilo, the second question he gives you is a math equation.
“You may answer.”
You purse your lips. “Well, I wanted to save the kiss on the lips for the hardest question? And… we aren’t even studying math?”
Camilo pulls you to his side and the two of you are laying down on the bed. “Correct! Now we must take a well-deserved break!”
“But I haven’t even quizzed you? Plus, you looked quite excited for the ‘one correct answer, one kiss’ thing.” Camilo shrugs. “I am. But I feel like you deserve a break. Just close your eyes.” He kisses your cheek. You sigh at him, “Fine. You better remind me that we’re quizzing each other when we wake up.”
Camilo smiles without replying.
“I’m serious! I don’t want to fail this!”
Camilo chuckles at you before giving you a short kiss on your lips. “I’ll remember that, mi amor. For now, sleep to your heart’s delight.” You merely hum in response, wrapping your arms around Camilo. “Goodnight.”
“Y/N, it’s 4PM.”
“Goodnight.”
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a good kind of fire
prompt | Character A runs a flower shop downtown. Character B is terribly allergic to flowers. ~ for @wkemeup's writing challenge for 9k
pairing | bucky barnes x reader, modern!au
word count | 2.5k (i am now emotionally invested in these characters)
warnings | bucky and reader being awkward as hell, chaotic texting, innuendoes (blink and you'll miss it)
notes | i didn't know i could still submit entries to the challenge haha, i was rlly upset i'd missed the train on it
you'll find out why this is the gif i picked when you read it 😭💀
it was a peaceful spring morning. you heard the chirping of the birds from almost every window in your apartment. sunlight was also seeping in through every window. it was a good start to the day.
today was the day you went into work late. when you had quit your job at an office as a receptionist to pursue your dream of being a florist, you thought you would be working on your own terms. while that was still true for the decorating and choosing flowers part of your job, it certainly wasn’t for the timings. if anything, the timings were more strenuous now that you had to manage shop all by yourself.
you would have to go in at 6 in the morning and leave at 10 in the night with a total time of 17 minutes free throughout for an entire year, before you realised how unhealthy it was for you. you had quickly drawn up a schedule for yourself. once a month you would come in late, and one more time that month you would leave early. it worked well for you.
you would look forward to these two days in a month: the first tuesday of the month being the one you left early and the third wednesday of the month being the one you came in late.
usually, on the days you came in late, you’d sleep in. but today, you wanted to change it up. the morning was a beautiful one, it would be a shame to spend it all inside.
you decided to go to a cafe that your friends had recommended on more than one occasion. good coffee, delicious snacks and cute baristas. you shook your head disapprovingly at how dirtily their minds worked. sometimes, you couldn’t believe you were friends with them of all the 2.6 million people in brooklyn.
you stepped out of your apartment. as you walked out, you waved to your elderly neighbours. back when you had first opened shop, they were your regulars. they’d keep buying even if they didn’t need flowers. you didn’t know where you’d be without their help.
after fifteen minutes of walking and checking the directions on your phone to see if you were going on the right path, you found it. the howling brasserie.
the moment you entered the shop, you realised your friends were right. not about the coffee or the snacks — not yet, anyway — but about the bartenders. holy shit, you thought.
there was a tall blonde man with a smile that could kill, another tall black man who you just knew was incredibly charming and a beautiful red haired woman who looked like she had a flirtatious demeanour. but one man in particular caught your attention.
he was a tall man — six feet tall, at least — with broad shoulders, messy brown hair and crystal blue eyes. you gulped. pull yourself together.
you took a seat at the table furthest away from the baristas. you did not need to come into work flushed and distracted.
you hadn’t been sitting at your table for one minute when you heard a voice above you.
‘ma’am, your order?’
you looked up. oh, my god. it was the same blue eyed man. calm down. he looked even prettier up close. your eyes fell to his chest — you tried your best to stop that from happening, you really did — and you noticed how the t-shirt he was wearing was doing absolutely nothing to conceal his muscular form.
‘ma’am?’ he repeated, a small smile on his face. maybe he noticed that you were staring. he was probably used to it.
‘uh, right, sorry,’ you cleared your throat. you wanted to jump off the golden gate bridge. ‘um, what would you recommend?’ oh, my god, stop embarrassing yourself! you yelled mentally.
‘uh,’ he looked behind to the board with all the products the cafe offered, ‘are you more of a coffee or a tea person?’
‘coffee, absolutely.’
he laughed. you felt your cheeks burn. his laugh was just as pretty as him. dear lord, y/n, what the hell is wrong with you?
‘aren’t we all?’ he joked. ‘anyway, the cold coffee here is splendid. and i’m not just saying that because i work here.’
you had never really fancied iced coffee much. maybe it was time to change that. ‘oh, okay! yeah, i love iced coffee! i’ll take that.’ your voice sounded a lot higher than it normally was.
‘alright, i’ll be right back.’
he left to go behind the counter and make your coffee. sweet mother of everything that is pure, you thought as your gaze fell upon his muscular arms. you tried to push all the unwelcome thoughts in your head that followed.
you were just regaining your composure when he showed up again, this time with your coffee in his hands.
‘here ya go,’ he said, placing the cup in front of you. ‘enjoy,’ he smiled.
if you were standing, you were a hundred percent sure your knees would have buckled under you and made you fall.
you smiled back. ‘thank you.’
the moment he walked away, you picked up your phone and frantically texted your best friend, wanda.
| cUTE GUY ALERT
| what?
| i’m at that coffee shop you recommended
| howling brasserie?
| YES OMG THE BARISTA HERE IS SO CUTE IM GONNA DIE
| lmaoooo calm down bestie
| HOW
| describe him pls
| he’s like six feet tall, messy brown hair, pretty blue eyes and he is so muscular i-
| omg go for it
| r u out of ur mind
| why
| he is sO OUT of my league
| ugh you’re no fun
| :/
you downed the last of your coffee and walked up to the counter to pay for it. thanks to your luck, the cute barista was also handling the cash register.
‘hello again,’ he grinned.
‘hi, um, how much do i pay?’
‘this your first time here?’
‘yep.’
‘on the house.’
‘what?’
‘yep. don’t worry about it.’
‘that’s too kind, i can’t!’
‘you absolutely can,’ he smiled.
‘let me leave a tip at least.’
‘don’t worry about it, doll.’ the nickname, oh, my god, the nickname. ‘you can pay the next time you visit.’
‘right, of course.’ maybe you should make visiting this coffee shop your ritual. and take more breaks, like your regulars insisted.
he waved you goodbye.
as you walked to your shop, you realised you hadn’t caught his name. you had been too enamoured to check for a name tag. damn it.
the next wednesday morning, you went again. you had wanda take care of the shop. you let her take 10% of the proceeds when she was working as compensation.
when you entered the coffee shop, your gaze traveled all over the place. you couldn’t find him. maybe he had a different shift. you considered walking out, but that would be rude. so you sat down in the corner you had last time.
you saw the red haired woman walk towards your table, but when she was less than three metres away, the door swung open. it was him. he was carrying a box. his gaze landed on you, then the woman, and he rushed to drop the box.
you saw him approach the woman and tell her something. she handed him her notepad, and walked to the kitchen. he then came to your table.
‘i’ve been waiting all week for your money,’ he teased.
you laughed. ‘and you shall get it soon.’
‘the same?’
‘yep.’
his gaze lingered at you for a few more seconds before he walked back to the kitchen to grab your coffee.
that day, when you were about to leave after you paid for your coffee, just as you were about to walk away, he rushed up to you.
‘hey,’ he said, in between laboured breaths.
‘hi,’ you said. what? ‘you okay?’
‘yep. absolutely.’
‘gotta get that morning jog in, i suppose,’ you joked.
‘right,’ he laughed. ‘i just, um, for some reason, thought you should know my name.’
‘oh?’ you squealed mentally.
‘yep. it’s bucky, by the way.’
‘bucky,’ you said. ‘right, i’m y/n.’ you stretched your hand out.
‘pleasure to meet you, y/n.’ your heart skipped a beat when you heard him say your name.
‘the pleasure is all mine,’ you managed to say without stuttering.
it became a tradition for you to come every week. wanda was more than happy to let you shoot your shot. you may or may not have led her to believe you planned on asking him out soon. which you didn’t. it was a ridiculous idea.
you stopped leaving early each month to make up for the lost time. it was worth it, because soon meeting bucky had become the best part of your day, week and morning.
it was your fourth trip to the cafe when you and bucky had a full conversation.
he had just brought you your coffee, when you noticed he stood around for longer than usual.
‘i’m sorry, do i pay now?’ you asked.
‘no, no. i just, um, i have a break right about now.’
‘oh, good for you,’ you smiled.
‘yeah. would you, um, mind if i sat down here?’
‘with me?’
‘yeah.’ he ran his hands through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.
‘yeah,’ you felt your face heat up, ‘yeah, absolutely.’
‘great.’ he sat down in front of you.
you felt him look at you as you sipped your coffee. ‘do you want to talk?’
‘god, i’m sorry, i have a bit of a staring problem, or at least i’ve been told.’
you laughed. ‘it’s okay.’
‘so, um, tell me about yourself.’
‘what do you wanna know?’
‘what do you do for a living?’
‘i own a shop downtown.’
‘really?’
‘yep.’
‘what do you sell?’
‘maybe you should come find out.’
‘mysterious. i like that,’ he chuckled. ‘text me the address and i’ll stop by someday.’
‘alright.’
he stared at you for a second.
‘staring problem,’ you reminded him with a smile.
‘right, sorry,’ he laughed. ‘just, uh, how are you gonna text me?’
of course. ‘um, i don’t know.’
‘maybe i should give you my number.’
‘maybe.’
he wrote down something in a messy scrawl on his notepad, tore the page, folded it up and slid it across the table to you. checking his watch, he said, ‘as much as i hate to leave you here, my break has ended. until next week,’ he smiled.
‘until next week,’ you nodded. you unfolded the paper.
his number was there. below it, messy handwriting read, you can call me if you want too <3
you were almost completely certain you were grinning like an idiot.
he came to visit the next day. you were helping an elderly woman pick out what to get for her grandson’s wedding when your phone rang.
‘go on, take it,’ the woman told you.
‘i’m so sorry, i won’t be long.’
you headed behind your counter. it was bucky.
‘hey. isn’t there a rule for this in the bro code or something?’
‘not to my knowledge, no.’
‘the rule where you’re not supposed to call someone if it’s been less than three days?’
he laughed. ‘how do you know that?’
‘i have a few guy friends.’
‘anyone i should be worried about?’
you chuckled. ‘nope.’
‘the rule doesn’t apply to special people.’
‘you flatter me.’
‘i'm glad.’ you just knew he was flashing his thousand megawatt smile at the other end. ‘anyway, what’s your shop’s name? i’m here but i don’t know where your shop is.’
‘oh, it’s the one called blooming shield.’
‘interesting name.’
‘i came up with it when i was drunk,’ you laughed.
‘it’s still pretty good.’
you spotted him out the window of your shop. his back was turned to you.
you rushed out of your door, still on the phone with him. you tapped him on the shoulder.
‘oh, god,’ he practically yelped. you winced and cut the call immediately.
‘sorry about that.’
‘it’s alright.’ his features softened into a smile.
‘do you wanna head inside?’
‘yeah, sure.’ he had an uneasy kind of look on his face, but you brushed it off.
you took him inside.
‘so, why’d you decide to become a florist?’
‘um, i just really like flowers, i suppose. nothing too profound,’ you laughed.
‘interesting.’
‘yeah.’ you led him through the aisles.
‘hibiscus is my favourite flower,’ you told him. you saw him breathing deeper than usual, and his nose was turning slightly red.
‘hey, are you alright?’ you asked him.
‘yeah,’ he almost wheezed, ‘i’m great.’ then he sneezed. ‘oh, my god, i am so sorry.’
‘bucky, are you allergic to pollen?’ you asked him, the worry prevalent in your voice.
‘no,’ his gaze landed on the floor. ‘maybe.’
‘dear lord,’ you said as you practically dragged him out of your store. ‘why didn’t you tell me?’
‘i’m sorry.’ it sounded more like i'm sowwy.
‘bucky, i’m gonna take you to my apartment. is that okay? i have a bunch of antihistamines and decongestants there.’
he nodded.
you put your arm around him. it must have been a strange sight, to see someone of your stature almost carry a man that broad shouldered and taller than most through the streets.
when you reached the apartment, you opted for the elevator for the first time in your life.
‘bucky, why didn’t you tell me?’ you said in the elevator.
‘i didn’t want to let you down,’ you barely heard his murmur.
you took his face into your hand. ‘you would’ve been okay with me almost killing you, though?’
‘you didn’t almost kill me,’ he smiled.
‘i could’ve.’
‘maybe.’
you laughed.
when the elevator reached your floor, you pushed him out — with great struggle — and almost threw him onto the couch when you opened the door.
‘god, i am so sorry,’ you said, frantically, as you looked in your cabinets for the medicine.
‘it’s okay, i deserve it.’
you almost tripped over yourself as you ran to where he was sitting.
‘okay,’ you handed him a glass of water, one yellow pill and one white pill, ‘take these.’
he downed them quickly.
‘are you better?’
‘a little.’
‘that’s good.’
‘you really should have told me.’
‘i know, i just didn’t want to ruin it.’
‘i think you dying would’ve ruined it.’
he laughed. ‘you really are never gonna let this go, are you?
‘nope.’
‘i’m sorry i almost died on our first date.’
you looked at him with wide eyes. ‘was this?’
‘what?’
‘our first date?’
‘was it not? jesus, i misinterpreted it, argh, i’m sorry—’
‘no, i, uh, like the sound of that,’ you smiled.
‘well, now i’ve just ruined it beyond repair.’
‘maybe you can swing by for dinner and we can watch a movie afterwards,’ you suggested.
‘really?’
‘yep.’
‘that’d be great. what movie?’
you thought for a second. then, with a smile, you said, ’mean girls is good.’
‘right, i’ve heard quite a lot about that one. haven’t seen it, though.’
‘oh, my god. you haven’t seen mean girls?’
‘nope.’
‘where were you in high school?’
he laughed.
‘we have to watch this movie.’
‘alright.’ he grinned wide at you. your face was on fire. but a good kind of fire.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
thank you so much for reading! feedback is so, so appreciated! <3 please do not repost my work on any platform. reblogs are fine!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic
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YouTuber AU
Hello welcome to Dating Scandal but with Twitter Involved (nightmare)
A little exposition here:
Link, Zelda, Sidon, Revali, and Riju are the most popular group of youtubers on the internet and have a huge fanbase that likes to theorize, draw fanart, and write fanfiction about them. Disclaimer, I don’t actually interact with real-person fandoms myself lol there’s just too much potential for drama and misunderstandings & they’re always bound to end in a dumpster fire but that is sort of what this au is about so.
Impa, Mipha, Daruk, and Urbosa are family friends that appear in a lot of their videos/streams.
(This is an art blog I swear)
enter vidcon 20XX
Link:
blows stuff up/sets stuff on fire with a side of cooking vids and gaming
most are filmed outside, he does those challenges where you try to cook stuff with limited ingredients/materials
has the largest fanbase of all of them, but not the most…intimidating.
does a lot of collab videos, mostly with Impa, Daruk, and Riju because they have similar interests/channels, but Zelda appears in his videos and is seen filming and the stans read too far into it
simps. i’m pointing at you.
Most popular videos are “shield surfing on rock!—how I broke my leg” “can Daruk eat Impa’s motorcycle?” and “how to inhale ranch dressing.”
Twitter handle is @ arsonistslullabye because he’s a hozier fan
45m subs
Zelda:
theories, analyses, conspiracies, and the occasional e x p e r i m e n t
she once got link to eat a frog for 50 bucks.
most people argue that she’s better than more popular YouTubers because she actually has quality content to give to the world and she has a lot of defensive supporters
She used to get a lot of hate before Urbosa spoke up about it and scared the bejeezus out of everyone
has an actual posting schedule
“Happy Sunday everyone, it’s Zelda Hyrule and today we will be talking about cryptozoology and why blupees exist, you cowards.”
Twitter handle is @ zeldaofhyrule and she is pan. just so you know. One of those calm extroverts that mystify me to this day.
18m subs
Sidon:
fashion/life hacks. Like gourmet troom troom but if they were real people.
Has the 2nd largest fanbase
most of them are girls
Sidon has a boyfriend though, which he told everyone at VidCon a few years ago
cue the drama and shipping and the entire fandom trying to figure out who the boyfriend is. A well known reddit thread emerged that presented the common guesses being Link, Sidon, and Zelda.
“But it can’t be Zelda, Sidon’s gay.”
“I’m not in the fandom but I thought Zelda was a boy??”
“Did you just say Sidon? Is that a typo? Are you saying that Sidon’s dating himself?”
Sidon x Sidon became a fandom joke.
Don’t look at me I’m just setting up all the worldbuilding. every fandom has their weird dark sides and Sidon x Sidon is the Linkcest of the Sidon YT fandom.
Mystery BF is actually Bazz, a pretty inconspicuous guy who appeared in a few of his videos. This was confirmed a year ago, but everyone still ships him with other YouTubers because they’re convinced he was lying to throw them off his scent. He really can’t catch a break and this is why you should not ship real people.
Twitter handle is @ officialprincesidon
says “beguiling” a lot
21m subs ᕙ( ͡❛ ▿ ͡❛)ᕗ
Mipha:
Sidon’s sister, hasn’t posted a single video but just has the channel for show because she appears in so many of Sidon’s videos as a model for his makeup tutorials and whatnot
has 328k for that. Everyone loves her, she’s great. @ mimipha
Revali:
Link’s sworn rival
Link thinks they’re friends
He kept popping up in link’s Twitter threads and making snarky comments until zelda called him out for not even following link (so why was he stalking his acc) which kept the Twitter drama to a minimum
Revali was the catalyst of a few popular memes and that’s where most of his subs come from.
drags link into a few challenges that always get a ton of views because of how competitive they get
“ITS JUST ASININE” is a running joke that everyone tries to get him to say. His @ is itsjustasinine as well
Urbosa is the only person who can win an argument with him
5m subs and growing rapidly. newer to youtube than everyone else.
Impa:
Doesn’t have a channel she’s just a mutual friend of Mipha, Zelda, and Link
Rides a motorcycle, so she is used in a few of Link’s videos.
@ ihaveamotorcycle because she thinks having a motorcycle is a personality trait. the most unruly on Twitter when it comes to replying to fan’s stuff, leaking upcoming videos and generally causing chaos.
Mipha’s girlfriend. That’s how she met Zelda and Link.
Urbosa:
Is actually a model, but she has a ton of YouTuber friends because she’s known Zelda since birth.
when she entered the youtube community she didn’t realize she would be adopting like 15 children
5m subs. her videos are professional & related to her modelling career. @ urbosasfury
I feel like she would do unboxing vids. I’m not sure what she’s unboxing.
Daruk
Just a friend of Link’s, fun guy. yells a lot. once ate a rock and had no reaction.
people are scared of him for that reason
Riju:
yoga & gymnastics & “ha look at how flexible I am its eAsY” videos
you know the type
she also does reactions and is sponsored by save the sand seals charities which she is very enthusiastic about. She’s also Urbosa’s niece and the only minor in the gang (15). I like to think that the champions YT community is actually not creepy so everyone respects her a ton
doesn’t post frequently, she mostly appears in Link’s videos to jump out of airplanes or whatever. And sometimes Zelda’s if she’s interested in the topic. 500k subs, but she’s always really popular when she appears in Link’s videos.
VidCon:
In the months leading up to VidCon, some fans on the internet made a few discoveries: first of all, that the inside of Link’s house is painted green. This is a big deal because all of his videos are filmed outside either in his backyard or on trips that he and the brosquad go on to do…whatever bros do. explosions. idk. The point is he had some announcement about VidCon and filmed it inside. Only the wall and a potted plant were shown.
However, the colour was similar to the the shade of Zelda’s living room. Fans dug through years and years of old videos and found a clip of Zelda walking through a hallway, where there was an open door and a glimpse of a houseplant.
There were 2 types of responses to the theory:
“They could just be roommates guys calm down”
“and they were ROOMMATES?”
others pointed out that Link could just not have a house and had to crash in Zelda’s
Some guy on reddit claimed he had a botany degree and declared that the houseplants in the clips were not of the same genus. Normal people pointed out that the plant would have grown 4 years between the clips and would look considerably different.
#Zelink trended on twitter for a while and people posted other old clips from both of their channels and the frog video blew up again
Impa retweeted a post tagged as #zelink with “rofl” and later publicly apologized for causing confusion.
Fans noticed that in the “can a motorcycle drive over my arm” (it was clickbait he’s fine) episode 2 years ago, Link was eating out of a paper lunch bag with his name written on it in handwriting that a few people claimed to look like Zelda’s, leading people to believe that she had packed him a lunch.
However, this theory was shot down with the counterargument that Zelda can’t cook. although. i mean how much skill do you need to make a sandwich.
No one knows what tumblr is doing at this time
Zelda wore a scarf in her “Save the Sand Seals” video that matched identically to the scarf Link wore when he travelled to Hebra to film a shield surfing video, but it’s been debated wether it’s actually the same scarf or not.
Neither Zelda nor Link has spoken up about the theories, and besides Impa’s one slip on twitter, neither has any of their friends. Zelda received a lot of backlash for the assumption that she was dating Link because he has a lot of delusional fans that didn’t want her to “steal their man” or whatever the hell that type of fan would get mad about
Oh yea and bolson & karson run a zelink fanpage on twitter sorry I forgot about that
after that whole mess, everyone was even more anticipant of VidCon in the hopes that some of their questions would be answered.
The whole batch went to VidCon this year: Link, Impa, Daruk, and Riju are a gang while Sidon and Mipha go together and Zelda & Revali each go separately. Urbosa is there for supervision moral support
Zelda has always been much better at dodging questions that she doesn’t want to answer than anyone else, so her Q&A went without a hitch. When asked to confirm the rumours she said “which one?” and then moved on to the next question (without actually confirming any rumours).
Link is generally a more awkward person but eventually said that he had filmed the video in Zelda’s house because it was nicer and didn’t realize it would cause such an uproar. Fans were disappointed, but Bolson claimed he saw Link and Zelda exiting the hotel elevator on the same floor after Link’s Q&A session. No one believed him.
Fans went back to theorizing over who Link, Zelda, and Sidon were all dating, because apparently they can’t just be dating unknown people and have to be with other YouTubers
Sidon and Bazz got engaged about a week after VidCon, making at least 4 preteen girls cry
actually try 4 million
Sidon x Sidon made a brief comeback but Sidon spoke up about his fandom for the first time ever on twitter and told everyone that no, he was not dating himself. eventually, everyone settled down and accepted that none of them were in a relationship save for a few loud fans.
Link and Zelda still got the occasional “when will you tell us who you’re dating?” comment but most of them were joking and the people who still hardcore shipped them were generally frowned upon. Zelda’s popularity went up after VidCon and she regained the 200k subscribers she’d lost after the first theory dropped.
Two months after VidCon, Link posted a video titled “Zelda and I’s House Tour!” and gave around 45 million people a heart attack
as revealed in the video, they had actually been dating since they were 16 and everyone’s just a fool.
the potted plant is named Hestu.
#listen. listen. youtuber au#idc if u came here to see genderless art this is what I am posting today#genderless art in the future though#anyways I'm so sorry#sidon x sidon trends for a few days and I feel bad for the ppl who have to handwrite the trending descriptions on twitter#like what would it be#reddit user @ steponmeurbosa makes a spelling error and sparks shipping between beauty guru sidon and himself#if someone tries to start discourse about YouTube fandoms on my post I am blocking you#headcanons#opinions#youtuber au#botw#zelink#breath of the wild#legend of zelda#thank god I got this out of my notes app
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about love
wc: 1.14k (i’m so sorry it’s long)
a soft lofi song was playing in the background, and you walked up to the counter seeing a smiling felix standing there.
a soft lofi song was playing in the background, and you walked up to the counter seeing a smiling felix standing there.
a soft lofi song was playing in the background, and you walked up to the counter seeing a smiling felix standing there.
“hey yn! i didn’t know you were coming in today! is there anything that you’d like to order? it’s on the house!” he said, giggling a bit and giving you his big smile.
a soft smile made its way on your lips “thanks lix, but i texted hyunjin about it and he said he was gonna make them.”
his smile faltered a little (not that you noticed) and he nodded his head. “got it. well if you need any snacks i can grab them for you.”
“thanks felix, i think i’m okay for now but thank you for being willing to help.”
before he could say anything, hyunjin came around , carrier in hand with the drinks.
“here you go cupcake, it’s on the house.”
you locked eyes with him, both mimicking the crescents on each other’s face. felix cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable watching hyunjin and you have a little moment with each other. you grabbed the carrier and thanked both hyunjin and felix before walking out of the cafe towards your car.
placing everything into the front seat (making sure to use all your cup holders for the drinks), you drove to changbin’s house, thankful it was only about a 8 minute drive from the cafe.
changbin’s house was quaint, and you were surprised that he could even afford a house at his age. lolo had never really mentioned 3racha and what it is they exactly do, but you assumed they were successful enough that they were decently well off.
you got out of your car & knocked on the door as best you could, juggling the drinks and snacks, grateful that hyunjin gave you a carrier. the door swung open, a guy with blonde hair and a fitted black tee staring at you.
“oh thank god you’re here i was thinking it wasn’t that hard to find this place but this world is full of incompetent people like yourself.”
you were stunned for a second before rolling your eyes at him.
“so where’s the pizza? don’t tell me you at the entire pizza.”
the nerve of this guy, you thought. you peered into the house, noticing lolo checking her phone, presumably waiting for a message from you.
“actually, i’m not the pizza person. obviously. i’m here to watch the practice.”
the boy gave you a once over which made you slightly self conscious.
“ah so you’re lolo’s friend? i thought you’d look… different.”
“yeah well, sorry to disappoint. can you let me in now?”
“not until you introduce yourself.”
you sighed, completely annoyed at this point just wanting to make it inside. “i’m yn, can i go in now?”
he finally moved to the side, letting you in. you quickly slipped off your shoes and went into the living room.
lolo looked up from where she was on the couch, changbin’s head on her lap while one of her hands absentmindedly played with his hair. she smiled as soon as she saw you, ignoring the scowl that had made it across your face. you sat down on the floor next to her, mumbling a hello when changbin greeted you.
“so did you get my snacks?” lolo said, leaning forward almost pushing changbin off of her in the process. it took a second for him to regain his balance as he nearly fell, before glaring at lolo.
“yes i did, and i got your drinks just like you requested.” handing her the bag with the snacks and drinks.
she took the bag put it on changbin’s stomach which made him let out an “oof!” before she pointed to the carrier.
“and what’s in there?”
as you opened your mouth to answer, the boy from the door and another boy came around and sat down across from you.
“they’re the drinks. i got one for jisung, chan and i.”
you pulled out one that had the name on the side, in hyunjin’s nice handwriting. ‘chan’ it read.
“chan?” you said staring at the two boys. much to your luck, the boy that answered the door raised his hand and as you passed it to him, he slightly tugged on it, making it almost spill.
you went back and pulled out another, before nothing that it had ‘jisung’ written on it with a smiley face.
you looked at jisung, who hadn’t introduced himself to you and saw that he seemed shy. you handed him his drink, which he took from your hands gently. “thank you, yn” he mumbled, almost so quiet you didn’t hear.
you nodded, finally pulling out your drink, seeing that hyunjin wrote a little note on your drink. “to the prettiest girl ever, remember we’re still on for tonight!” you smiled at that, butterflies erupting in your chest.
chan took a sip of his drink before clapping his hands. “okay, now that everyone’s here, let’s get to work.”
their practice had taken some time, but you spent most of it talking to lolo or just playing on your phone. they rehearsed their set list for the gig that they had in two days, fine tuning anything that needed to be done.
they had finally finished, and you started gathering all the trash of all the snacks and drinks laying around. as you went to the kitchen to throw them away, you heard a pair of foot steps behind you. you turned around only to see jisung standing there, eyes wide and a small smile on his face.
“hi. i’m sorry i haven’t officially introduced myself to you but im jisung.”
he held out his hand for you to shake it and you did.
“jisung, i know who you are. you don’t need to be so nervous or anything like that.”
“oh, that’s good then. well i was wondering since practice is over, do you want to go out for some food?”
“thank you for the offer, but i’m meeting up with someone after this.”
“okay then” he scratched his neck clearly feeling a little awkward “could we maybe do it another day? you just seem cool.”
you nodded and turned around, putting the trash away. “yeah, as long as you don’t hit on me the entire time.”
“noted.”
“i’ll text you when i’m free.” you glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing hyunjin’s shift had been over for a while.
“oh shit, i gotta run but we’ll make plans okay?” you quickly went passed him, pausing “by the way jisung, you’re cooler than what i thought you’d be.”
and with that you grabbed your stuff and rushed to meet hyunjin, leaving behind a blushing jisung.
•••
six- 3racha practice
previous | masterlist | next
•••
taglist: open! send an ask!
a/n: the last ss of jisung’s messages, yn has not seen yet! send me your thoughts, questions anything!
•••
taglist! @marsophilia @happy-at-home @dayawantstosleep @90s-belladonna @uwustaytiny @hiy-breadcheeks @itsyaapollochild @skzooo @rindomo @napalmskiez @freckledquokka @bubblegumji @unexceptional-h
if your name is in bold i cannot tag you!
#skz fluff#skz hyunjin#skz chan#skz changbin#skz felix#skz jeongin#skz seungmin#changbin x reader#felix x reader#hyunjin x reader#seungmin x reader#skz smau#skz social media au#stray kids smau#stray kids social media au#jisung x reader#skz jisung#stray kids felix#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids jeongin#stray kids seungmin#jeongin x reader#minho x reader#skz#skz lee know#stray kids bang chan#skz angst#stray kids jisung#stray kids minho#stray kids changbin
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SOMETIMES PT.3
PETER PARKER X FEM!READER
Warnings: Angst (alotttt. I’m sorry lol)
Word count:1873
[A/N] So that there’s no smut in this part but it is SO worth it (trust me I hate when there’s no smut but this part is so SO GOOD)this part kinda like, BROKE my heart… ok it DID break my heart… SEND ME YOUR FEEDBACK AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST FOR EACH CHAPTER! ENJOY… (send a request for anything you want me to write or if you have any ideas)
-J.T.S xxx
PART ONE PART TWO
Ever since the incident at the drive-in theater, Y/N has been avoiding Peter. Whenever MJ, Peter, and Ned would walk out of school together, Y/N wouldn’t be leaning out of the window of the car smiling and waving at them. She would have the window rolled up and looked either straight out the ahead or down at her phone.
Peter told Ned about the whole situation but didn’t tell MJ. He knew she would kill him because Y/N is her cousin and their like sister towards each other.
“Peter I don’t know what your gonna do, but you gotta do it fast cause sooner or later MJs’ gonna find out and your not only gonna lose the girl you have a major crush on but also your best friend,” Ned pointed out to Peter. Peter didn’t want to admit it but he was right. He had to come out with the truth to Y/N one way or another. He had to tell her that he does like her and that he lied about the stark internship.
He had to tell her that he was Spider-Man.
“Yeah Ned, I guess you right.”
“I am right Pete. Now go get your Princess Leia,” Ned teased as the bell rang, signaling that it was time for them to leave. The two boys made their way out of the building, talking about their project they still had yet to finish. They didn’t see MJ around like how she usually is until they heard familiar voices coming from behind them.
“Here’s your schedule and your and the supply list. You can also sign up for clubs if you would like,” an administrator said.
“I’ll think about it. That you so much.” there it was. That voice. It was Y/N talking to the administrator. But I thought she was homeschooled? Peter thought to himself, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. It’s not like it was a bad thing that Y/N was coming to Midtown, but MJ told him that she really wasn’t the type to go to school. She hated big crowds of people and was never really good at making friends.
“Ok well, I can’t wait to have you as a new student at Midtown!”
Peter and Ned looked at each other with wide eyes then turned fully around to see who was behind them, even though they already knew by the voices. “Peter…”
“Ned,” he said to the tan boy next to him. They were both in shock by what they just heard.
“Y/N’s going to Midtown?” they said in sync.
“Yes, she is,” MJ added as she and her cousin walked over to stunned boys. Ned sent them both a smile and Y/N sent him one back with a small ‘hi’. Peter couldn’t help but notice that something was different about her.
She’s not wearing her glasses.
The four of them walked out of the building together, telling Y/N about all the teachers and classes at the high school. She also explained that she was tired of being homeschooled and wanted to have something to do outside of her one personal bubble. This new information didn’t make much sense to Peter. She seemed so happy when she was at home from what he could see.
Ned said goodbye to the two girls before heading over to the bus, beckoning Peter over.
“Later MJ, b-bye Y/N.”
“See ya, Parker,” MJ responded before getting into the passenger side of the car, kicking her feet up on the dashboard.
“Hey! Feet off the dashboard dude,” Y/N yelled at her cousin. MJ mocked her expression before chuckling lightly- keeping her feet on the dashboard. “Goodbye, Peter,” she said coldly, turning back to Peter before getting into the driver’s side, pulling away from the curb before speeding off down the road.
“I miss you.”
The brown-eyed boy whispered to no one, but it was meant for Y/N. He truly did miss her. Even if they had met only one week ago, that same surge of energy raced through him. Peter knew this wasn’t an ordinary crush- he didn’t know what it was. But he knew he couldn’t afford to lose it. He felt like he was falling apart without her. He didn’t intend to be that rude to her that night at the drive-in, it just happening and he regretted it the second he did it once he saw that heartbroken-hearted look on her face. But instead of apologizing to her, he just sat there.
“Sup penis Parker!” a kid named flash yelled and he sped by him, causing Peter’s brown curly hair to fall into his face. Great.
“Hey kid, I ain’t got all day. Ya getting on or not?” the bus driver said to Peter. He slumped his shoulders and lugged himself into the bus, taking his seat next to his best friend. “It’s gonna be ok man,” Ned told Peter, trying to comfort him.
I hope so.
///
Peter was late-night patrolling as he usually did and spotted MJ’s place. Not being able to restrain himself he swung over to the building next to it. He noticed that that same room light was on that was on the first time he stopped by MJ’s on a night patrol as Spider-Man.
Looking through the window to the lit room, he saw Y/N. she was sitting on her bed, her legs crisscrossed as she wrote something down in a thick, brown, leather-backed journal.
He smiled at the sight before him. Y/N was wearing the glasses. She pushed them up on her face with her knuckle and continued them to write. Someone must have called her name because she got up from her position on the bed and left her room.
Curiosity took over Peter as he swung over the ledge of the fire escape that was right at Y/N’s window. He peered into it and used his mask to focus closely on the open journal sitting on the bed. It was a letter:
Dear dad,
I can’t do this anymore. I miss you so much. You were what made me smile every day, and you still do. But I thought I had found someone who could make me smile even more. He’s beautiful dad. He has amazingly curly brown hair and the brightest brown eyes I had ever seen. His smile made me smile just like how your smile made me smile. He was the one that convinced me to wear my glasses… your glasses. Not MJ. not mom. He did. I thought he liked me as much as I liked him, but I was wrong. And now I can’t stop thinking about what you told me: some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes. I think he was the one dad, the wrong one. The one I wasn’t supposed to be with. But why does it hurt so much? I’ve been preparing for this to happen to me ever since you told about false love. But now that it actually happened, I cant take it. I cant let him go. But I-
The letter stopped. And anyone could tell that Y/N had been crying as she wrote it- there were tear strains covering the page.
Peter felt lightheaded. Tears flooded his chocolate eyes and he unfocused his mask from the page. He slumped down, his back not facing the window. He was hurt. It felt like everything in the world had stopped, as time had frozen. He couldn’t bear to know the fact that he hurt Y/N so much to the point she thinks it’s her fault.
He yanked the mask off of his face, his cheeks burning a shade of crimson just like his eyes. Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair, gripping it as he grounded out in frustration.
Letting go he slammed his fist against the brick behind him, yelling out in pain. But not physical pain. He felt like someone just ripped out his heart and stomped on it.
“Hello?” Peter jumped at the voice coming from inside of Y/N’s room. Nows your change Peter. Just go tell her the truth. That’s what one side of Peter said, the other side was the opposite. You cant tell her now, she’ll just hate you more. You have to wait for the right moment.
But when was the right moment?
“MJ, did you hear that or am I fucking crazy?” Y/N asked as she exited the room. Peter took this chance to get away without being seen. He made his way but to his shared apartment with Aunt May. Entering his room and sitting on his bed, tears ran down his face as he silently sobbed.
///
“Students, I need your attention,” everyone quieted down their own conversations to hear what was about to be said. “I would like to introduce you to our new student, Y/N,” Peter’s head snapped but to look to the front of the class. His eyes landed on Y/N. he couldn’t help but admire her outfit. She was wearing high-waisted but loose, flared jeans with a grey Slytherin sweatshirt and black converse- ones like MJs. her fingers were covered in rings and she has a small necklace. There was a bag draped over her shoulder and her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was holding her glasses in her hand, not daring to put them on.
Not in front of all these people. More importantly, in front of Peter.
Her head hung and she stared at her feet, twisting the ring on her thumb. The teacher told that she could take a seat at an empty chair, and just to her luck, Ned wasn’t at school that day. So she was forced to sit next to Peter. She didn’t want to argue so she took her seat and sat there quietly not daring to even glance at the boy next to her.
Half an hour went by and Peter noticed Y/N fidgeting next to him. Her hands were shaking, her ears were turning bright red and she shook the table from how much she was bouncing it. She was taking notes but the handwriting was illegible she was consistently squinting at the board, trying to read what was being written.
“Hey Y/N, are you ok?”
“Fine,” she let out shakily, avoiding eye contact with Peter. He grabbed her hand, causing her to look him in the eye. Y/N’s eyes were red, tears swelling in the corners.
“We’re going to the bathroom. Now.”
“No Peter I’m f-fine.”
Peter grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling out of the chair and into his arms, picking up their belonging with his free arm. They snuck out the back door to the classroom he and Ned used to sneak out of.
Walking through the halls, Y/N’s breath became shallow. “Peter, peter I wanna go home. Please take me home. There are too many people in there. They were all looking at me a-and I didn’t want them to look at me. MJ. Peter where is MJ. I need-”
“Ssshhh, relax Y/N. I’m gonna take you home,” Peter said, rubbing her back. She nodded her head at him as they walked through the back doors of the school.
SORRY THAT THIS PART WAS SHORT BUT THE NEXT ONE WILL BE LONG AND I HAVE SOME REALLY GOOD SURPRISE COMING IN THE NEXT PARTS. I LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS
-J.T.S xxx
@love-granger
@moonlightbaby10
@oakiedokie
@hallecarey1
@tomhollandreader
#peter parker#Peter Parker x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#y/n#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#smut#fluff#angst#mcu#marvel mcu#mcu fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#spider man#spider man x reader#spider man x you#spider man x y/n
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so..I hate that this is so late but happy to finally have this done and be posting it for y’all! hope you enjoy! thank you to my betas @tbslenthusiast, @serendipitystyles, and @summertimestyles you’re all angels!! also sham was so kind to help me create a playlist for this fic which you can find here!
this is for @taintedwonder‘s Styles Valentine’s Day fic challenge and most of the photos from the header were my inspo along with prompts 3. Can you just hold my hand? and 6. Let’s run away together.
as always any likes, rbs, replies, and feedback is welcome and very much appreciated!
word count: 4.1k
writing tag | masterlist
You can read his face before he even opens his mouth to speak.
“You have to leave again, don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer at first, just joins you where you sit on the bed, an arm around your waist to urge you closer to him. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, as if that will soothe the sting of what he’s about to say. He buries his face into your neck before he speaks.
“Only for a little while, angel.”
You don’t respond by returning the kiss like you normally would, narrowing your eyes down to where he’s hiding his face, “How long is a ‘little while’?”
“You could always come with me, y’know..”
He’s avoiding the answer and he knows it, eyes darting up only briefly to look at your face.
“How long, Harry?”
He’s fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt now, focusing on the loose thread hanging instead.
You nudge him lightly, pulling his attention back up to you, “Just say it! How long?”
He sucks in a big breath before releasing it and then the words come out in a rush, “A few weeks, possibly a month.”
You have to take your own deep breath before asking, “When do you have to leave?”
“Promise you won’t be mad?”
“Promise.”
“My flight’s on the 14th.”
“February 14th? As in we don’t get to spend Valentine’s Day together?”
“M’so sorry, love, I really thought we were gonna get to spend the day together.”
He’s pulled back from where he was hiding his face, studying yours now. It hurts him to see the disappointment written there; the pinch in your brow, the downturned corners of your mouth, the way your eyes have temporarily lost their shine and fallen misty.
“Ya really could come with me, y’know. Take a bit of time off, would do you some good to take a break.”
He knows better, knows it’s just a fantasy that you would ever be able to get that much time off from work to be able to travel with him.
“C’mon, love, let’s run away together.”
The way he’s looking at you know, it really wouldn’t take much more convincing to turn his fantasy into a reality.
“What am I gonna do when I’m cold and don’t have you as my personal heater to help me get warm?”
“S’why I left you my pillow to snuggle with. There’s a ton of extra blankets too, use as many of those as ya need.”
How could you explain that no amount of warmth from any blanket would ever compare to his? A blanket wasn’t capable of softly brushing your hair back from your face or tenderly pressing it’s lips to yours as you drift off to sleep. You open your mouth to try to illustrate such facts, but you close your mouth just as quick. You aren’t trying to be difficult or clingy, and you don’t want your last bit of time together to be filled with your complaints.
That thought only lasts for a moment, your anxiety building with each mile closer to the airport, “Well what do I do when your pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore?”
“I’ll try to be back before that happens, deal? Besides, you’ve got a whole drawer of my t-shirts to sleep in too. They all smell like me, right?”
“They do, but, Harry..what if..”
“Shh, hey, we’ve been through this before, right? S’gonna be hard for me to be away from you too, but I promise we’ll be alright. You can call me anytime you’re missin’ me, remember?”
His voice is that of someone trying to pacify a small child just before a tantrum, and you feel as though you’re being whiny and unreasonable. Missing him when he was away was almost unbearable though; everything seemed heavy and dimmer and you know it would feel like an eternity before you were together again.
“Promise we’ll make up today the second I come home. You plan the whole day and just tell me when and where to show up, okay?’
The fact that it was Valentine’s Day didn’t matter so much to you. You and Harry made it a point throughout your days spent together to express your love to one another whenever you could, so today was really just..another day to spend together. So it’s missing him that has tears forming in your eyes again, just as they had the night before.
“Can you just hold my hand? Until..” You don’t finish the sentence, letting your voice trail off so he won’t hear it break.
“‘Course I can, baby.” He offers his hand, never taking his eyes off the road even as he lifts your hand to his mouth to place a kiss to the back of it.
Though you know he would never admit to it, you swear you feel the speed of the car slow just the tiniest bit, Harry wanting to add as much to your limited time together as he can.
Despite it still being light outside, coming home to the space you normally share together alone makes you want to do nothing but crawl right back in bed. It’s mid-afternoon and with Harry not home to motivate you to do something more productive, that’s exactly what you aim to do.
After dropping your purse and keys near the door and double checking the locks, you’re startled by the sight of a bouquet of bright pink roses adorning your dining room table. They definitely weren’t there when you left, and you pluck the small card nestled between the flowers with your name scrawled across the front. It’s Harry’s almost illegible handwriting and the sight of it makes your heart soar with excitement before you flip it open to read the message.
It’s simple and small, more of his writing scratched across the cream colored paper in bold, black ink. Love, love, love, H. There’s a badly drawn heart underneath the note, and that makes you giggle out loud, filling the silence. If Harry were here, he’d have some cheeky comment about how adorable your laughter is, how he loved the sound of it.
“Don’t want you moping around the whole time m’gone, yeah? Promise me y’ll do more than just sulk around the place until I get back?” This reminder was given just before he’d had to rush off to catch his plane, giving you no time to offer him much more than a quick peck and a sad smile as an agreement.
So technically what you plan to do would not be considered breaking a promise, just..catching up on the sleep you would’ve gotten if you hadn't had to wake up so early to ride with Harry to the airport. Normally that was something you would decline to do, preferring to sleep in, which Harry usually was fine with; but this time he had insisted on you accompanying him on his drive, wanting to get as much time with you on this day as he could.
Just as you're about to venture down the hallway to the bedroom, you spot another item you’re sure hadn’t been on your coffee table earlier that morning when you’d left. It’s a medium sized box, messily wrapped with red paper and tied with purple ribbon and a bow. It’s quite heavy when you lift it, so you sit on the nearby couch to avoid dropping it. You waste no time tearing the paper away, lifting the lid to reveal a candle surrounded by tissue paper.
There’s a pack of two lighters wedged next to the candle, and you curiously pull it from the box first to see more of Harry’s handwriting on a red sticky note.
Baby you light up my world like nobody else...
That pulls another laugh from you, this one is bigger and echoes through the dimly lit space. The candle itself is a scent he knows you love, and you bring it closer to your face and inhale deeply. The smell of it helps ease even more of the unease and sadness of him being gone. You dig your phone out of your pocket to check the time and try to calculate whether his plane has landed and he would be able to answer a call from you.
You ultimately decide to nap first and give him a chance to get settled. He would most likely be calling you later anyway, missing you just as much as you missed him and wanting to hear your voice. You could thank him then for the flowers, candle, and the laugh. So you continue your journey to the bedroom, slipping out of your clothes and sliding open the drawer of Harry’s t-shirts. He’s right, they do all smell like him and you run your fingers along the soft fabrics before selecting one.
It’s plain white, one of his undershirts normally tucked beneath his expensive button ups and ruffles, but today it’s perfect and comforting attire to doze off in. It’s loose and just long enough on you that you don’t feel the need to put on a pair of your pj shorts with it, The bed is still messy from the morning, and you swear you can still see the outline of where Harry’s body normally tucks next to you on his side. You pull the blanket back and crawl into your usual spot, but it doesn’t feel right; it’s too empty and quiet without Harry.
You grab his pillow from his side and try your best to replicate the way you would curl yourself around him if he was here. It takes a bit of time to adjust, but eventually you give up and just try to relax into the mattress as much as possible, covering your head slightly with the blanket to surround yourself with warmth.
You peek through the space uncovered to the alarm clock on the bedside table on Harry’s side, the bright red letters read 12:32 p.m. and you let out a deep sigh before drifting off to sleep. If you weren’t so tired, the thought that crosses your mind might just make you laugh again.
Alone in bed in the afternoon on Valentine’s Day. What a shame.
You wake with a start, bolting upwards at the sound of your phone ringing loudly from somewhere near the bed. You don’t even bother to open your eyes to see who it is, just following the motions to answer and plop back down onto your spot as you let out an almost breathless and groggy “hello?”
“Not missin’ me too much, I see, took you a whole minute to answer,'' You know he’s joking by the hint of amusement in his voice and relief floods through your chest before any other feeling at the idea of him making it safely to his destination, “You alright, love? Sound a bit outta breath. Having some fun in our bed without me?”
“I..no, I was napping, promise, your call just scared me awake..how did you know I’m in bed?”
“I’m only teasing. Just a guess, figured you’d find your way back to the bed not long after you got home.”
“Found the flowers and the candle. Your note on the lighters made me laugh, thank you. How’d you do that though? They weren’t there when we left for the airport and you didn’t come back in.”
“Had one of my assistants drop the flowers off, and the candle’s been stashed in the closet for a week so she set it out for me while she was there. Wish I could’ve been there to see your face and hear that laugh,” He giggles at the thought of it, “S’that all you found? The flowers and the candle? I assume you found the one in the bathroom too, right?”
You’re more alert now, sitting up again to try to process what he’s saying more easily, “What do you mean? There’s more? The bathroom?”
“A few more, yeah. Hid here and there for you to find.”
“You left me a scavenger hunt? Do I at least get clues to help me find them all?”
“I’ve just given you one, haven’t I? Might be persuaded to give you a few more later.”
You’re up off the bed now, making your way to the bathroom where another surprise awaits. You hesitate for only a moment, stopping just as you reach the door.
“What’s in the bathroom? More flowers? One of those big, fluffy teddy bears?”
“M’not gonna tell you! You gotta go in to find out!”
Flipping on the light switch has you gasping at what you see. A heart, entirely made from more red sticky notes, each one embellished with reminders of his love for you. You stumble over words, trying to form a coherent response.
He senses your shock even through the phone and graciously gives you a moment before asking, “S’the heart all wonky or does it look nice? Told them to make it as straight as possible.”
“H..it’s beautiful! How did you have time to write all these before you left?”
“Finished up most of them last night after you fell asleep. They came to me a lot easier with my muse snoring next to me.”
You truly don’t know what to say to that. You’ve never had someone be so bright and loud with their love for you and just this simple expression makes you feel so incredibly special and loved.
You know that emotion is flowing through the phone when he speaks again, softer and lower, “Y’sure you won’t let me fly you out here to be with me?”
There’s the sound of another voice before Harry barks out another laugh, “Jeff says m’proper miserable without you. He said he’d pay you whatever your salary would be for the next month just to have you here.”
“Tempting, but..” Harry knows how much you love your job and how such a long absence would jeopardize the career you’ve built, so you know he probably won’t mention it again.
“Technically it was gonna be part of my present for you, so..I’ll give you another clue.”
“How very generous of you, H. Will this one make me cry too?”
“Maybe. Knowing you, probably,” You roll your eyes but listen for further instructions, “Just remember I had to rush and there’s still a few I didn’t get to add but, go get your laptop.”
“What’d you do to my laptop?”
“Would ya just go get it? C’mon I’ve gotta hang up soon and I wanna hear your reaction before I hafta go.”
“Alright, I got it. What now?”
“Go to your music library.” He gives you a moment to navigate through your programs, “Should be a playlist there with your name on it, lovie. Wait, are you already crying?”
“Shut up! Yes!” You wipe at your eyes with the hem of his t-shirt you’re still wearing as you try to read over the list of songs, “This is so sweet! The flowers, the candle, the heart and now this. Harry..I didn’t get you anything and you did all this for me. Thank you, I love you.”
“Love you more,” You can just picture the smug smile on his face, pleased that he’s done a good job of surprising you, “You can make it up to me later.”
“Don’t push your luck there, H. You’ve just been forgiven, I still have time to change my mind, you know.”
“I know. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” You hear what you assume to be Jeff’s voice again in the background, “I gotta go, babe. I’ll try to call again later, alright?”
“Wait! I don’t get any more clues? Can you at least tell me how many more are left?”
“S’no fun for me if I give away all my secrets now, is it?”
It’s only a day later when you find yourself in the kitchen, uncertain about what to make for dinner, eyes scanning over the ingredients in your pantry. Your laptop sits on the counter nearby, and you hum along to My Girl playing through the speakers, a song selected for you by Harry for the playlist he recently made for you.
You’re about to give up and heat up your leftovers from the Italian take-out you had treated yourself to the night before, when you spot the pack of Haribo gummy bears wedged in the corner. You almost have to stand on your tip-toes to reach it, and when you run your hand along the shelf you find another bag of sweets not far from the gummy bears. You smile down at the two bags, his favorite candy and yours sitting side by side.
There’s another of Harry’s red sticky notes on the pack of gummy bears: Being away from you is unBEARable. More of his cheesy jokes you’re sure he thought of himself. Your candy is void of any words, just another messily drawn heart, this time with your name in the middle.
You decide to FaceTime him this time, wanting to see his face. It only takes 3 rings for him to answer, a tender “Hi, baby.” falling from his lips. The room he’s in is dimly lit, but you can still see him well enough to notice his hair is damp. His curls are more pronounced than usual, which was a sign he’d been too tired to much more than probably run his fingers through after his shower.
“Found another of your surprises.” You hold the candy up for him to see and he smiles.
“Better save me some of those Haribo, and not just all the colors ya don’t like either.”
You tear open the bag, sticking your tongue out at him before popping a few into your mouth, “I might, if you tell me where all the other surprises are.”
You can see him temporarily consider it, biting his bottom lip and meeting your gaze before he shakes his head, “Nah. I will tell you there’s only one more though..well, depends on how you look at it, but to me they only count as one.”
“They?”
He mimics locking his lips, and you decide to drop it for now, knowing you would most likely have to trick or beg him to tell you later. You’d let him think he won. For now.
You roll the top of the bag of candy down, opening the cabinet to tuck them back into the same corner you found them in. They just didn’t taste the same without him there to enjoy them with you. Plus you still had a still had leftover garlic knots and mushroom ravioli you planned to dig into later.
“S’that the playlist I made for you? Sounds like it.”
The song has changed to At Last, Etta James’ voice filling the small kitchen, “Yeah. I love this song.”
“Me too. Reminds me of you now..my love,” You sway a bit to the music before stopping, leaning forward to where your phone is propped on the counter, “Wish I was there t’dance with you.”
You try your best to hold back your emotions of missing him, but you imagine how he would rest his hands on your hips if was here. How he would spin you to face him and move his hands to rest on your back while he led you around in a slow circle across the floor. It wasn’t just his hands you longed for, it was the way he would bend to your ear to sing along to whatever song you were dancing to, especially one like this he knew you loved. You missed his voice in person, the way it would surround you with a comfort and peace you’d never be able to replicate with anything else.
No matter what you do you can’t stop your thoughts from trailing to how when the song was over, he would lift you to sit on the counter and kiss your forehead. You’re wearing one of his hoodies tonight, and you pull the sleeve down over your hands to use to try to quickly wipe away any tears before he sees them. Once you feel you’ve reined in your emotions to the best of your abilities, you clear your throat before speaking again.
“I miss you, H.”
“I miss you too, angel.”
The music has changed again, Don’t Worry Baby by The Beach Boys lifting the mood enough you don’t feel so heavy and overwhelming with your yearning for him. You take a deep breath, planning to ask him about his day, but before you have a chance he says, “Go to your bedside table. The top drawer.”
“What?”
“M’tryin’ to tell you where your last surprise is. Go to our bedroom and look in the drawer. I’ll wait.”
You flash him a smile before turning to make your way out of the kitchen, through your living room and down the hall to your bedroom. It takes a bit of searching before you uncover a stack of bright, pastel colored envelopes tied together with the same purple ribbon as the candle from the day before. You work quickly to untie the knot and turn the lamp on so you can read the front of each one. There’s 4 total; open when you need a laugh, open when you miss my hugs, open when you need a reminder of my love, open when you miss me.
You tear into the final one immediately, setting the others aside for later. It’s not very long, the perfect length to boost your spirit even further. Just the thought of him taking time to sit down and write his expression of love for you makes you grin, and has that same feeling of being loved spreading through you as it did the previous day when you saw the heart on the bathroom mirror.
You had almost forgotten leaving him on hold in the kitchen until you hear, even from 3 rooms away, the sound of him singing along to whatever song is playing now. You close your eyes, picturing for a moment that it’s a typical night when he’s home, darting around the kitchen while he makes dinner or puts dishes away.
You make your way back through the house to him, envelope in hand. Each one had been a different color so the second he sees which one you have his eyes brighten, his smile growing bigger the closer you get.
“Of course you opened that one first. Did y’like it?”
You shake your head no, breaking into a laugh when you see the look of disappointment on his face, “I loved it. Very charming of you to do all this just for me, H.”
“Yeah? I did a good job surprising you then?”
You roll your eyes. This man and his need for praise was too much, but he was yours, and you were his and you would do anything to assure him that you loved him just as much as he loved you.
“You did an amazing job, really, Harry. I never expected you to be able to do so much so last minute.”
His mouth drops open in mock dismay, looking down and shaking his head, “I can’t believe you would ever doubt me!”
You don’t say anything, just shake your own head at his teasing, sharing a look of adoration before you look away.
“Hey, did I leave my lip balm there? The coconut kind I use before bed? Thought I had it in my duffel but I couldn’t find it when I got here.”
“Yep. I used it earlier when I got out of the shower. Want me to send it to you?”
“Nah, you don’t have to, but..you could bring it to me in person if you wanted.”
“I would if I could, Harry.”
The tone of a new text from your phone startles you, and you try to suppress your elation as best you can at who it’s from. It’s Jeff, confirming the time of your flight he’d helped you schedule for the following day. Harry knows you too well, would instantly be able to read your face and be suspicious of what you were up to. You step away from his line of sight to let the thrill run through you, to let it fully wash over you so he wouldn’t see. You return as quickly as you can, brushing it off as if you’d just gotten a text from your boss or a friend. He was oblivious, none the wiser at what you were planning.
It was your turn to surprise him.
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“Find Me Under The Giant Rabbit.”
Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction One Shot
SUMMARY: I read a Reddit fan theory that Mr. Pink survived, escaped the cops, got arrested and was then put on parole - leaving behind his old life and lying low as a waiter at Jack Rabbit Slims. What happens when you show up to the restaurant one night?
PAIRING: Mr. Pink/Buddy Holly waiter x Reader
TAGS: swearing, smoking + mentions of basically everything that happened in reservoir dogs which is the heist, violence, etc
NON REQUESTED
WORD COUNT: 2,870 (it’s long i’m sorry)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s nothing tarantino would ever put in his films, also there’s no way PF and RS can legitimately tie in together 100% even though there are some factors to support otherwise, but i wanted to write this and see something lol :( leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!
[gif credit]
YOU put your car in park, shutting off the engine, and observed it from afar. It was one hell of a big restaurant, almost a bit too cartoon-like. There was a giant anthropomorphic rabbit on top, and the lights claiming the name were glowing a bright red and yellow. Mind you, this was in Los Angeles, so who wouldn’t blame you if you took one look at Jack Rabbit Slim’s, and mistake it for a restaurant at Six Flags?
Dozens of bikers came in with their motorcycles, yet their engines couldn’t even overpower the chatter coming from newcomers left and right. You ignored a heavy tattooed biker dressed in all leather and denim catcalling you from afar, and you reached the front desk.
A man dressed in uniform, most definitely in character, tipped his hat at you and led you to a table with only two chairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to join you in the other seat across. So what if you went for dinner by yourself? You didn’t bother asking anyone to join you for that matter. Not anyone you could think of at the top of your head would be any less boring.
You began tracing your fingers around the rim of the ketchup bottle when not even five seconds after sitting down, a lady approached your table with ruby red lips.
Of course, you thought. Servers were dressed up as icons from the 50s era.
“Marilyn,” you say in awe.
“Close enough,” Instead of being seated in the Marilyn Monroe section being served by a Marilyn Monroe-looking Marilyn Monroe, you were greeted with a tall Mamie Van Doren, who is just as breathtaking as Marilyn refilling everyone’s coffee mugs from the other side of the restaurant. “How about I get you started with drinks?”
Ricky Nelson’s performance on stage came to an end when Mamie arrived with your food. You looked around the place while eating. People weren’t eating by themselves. Families, friends, dates, all of them occupied their seats. Now that you’ve noticed, you sort of wished you brought someone with you, otherwise the seat across from you is used as a footrest.
So there, you propped your feet on top, and relaxed… then you sat upright. Your eyes fixated on the waiter in his section, which were the cars back in the 50s used as booths. You watch him walk towards one of them. The couple was a young woman in a blunt bob cut with bangs, and a man wearing a black suit with long black hair tied back.
You squint your eyes. It couldn’t be...
“Hi, I’m Buddy. What can I get ya?”
You blinked, dropping the half bitten French fry from your mouth. Holy fucking shit.
It was all coming back to you. The news broke out about the heist going wrong at the wholesale, all dead except for one, a cop who laid dead on the ramp inside the rendezvous was identified as Mr. Orange. Since he wasn’t supposed to know where you were from, Mr. Pink never turned up to your door as an emergency hideout, or to drag you with him on his getaway because he never had one. You never heard of him ever since.
Here he was, Mr. Pink, alive and well, wearing glasses. What the hell happened? How long has he been working here? Is he supposed to be Buddy Holly?
“How do you want that cooked? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?” you hear him ask the man in the suit who ordered a steak.
“Bloody as hell, and oh, yeah, look at this- vanilla coke.”
You noticed the irony. He left you in a black suit - and he comes back in white. Like he’d ever want to be caught dead in white, or pink.
“What about you, Peggy Sue?” he asks the woman, jotting in his notepad. You recognized the pun.
“I’ll have the Durwood Kirby burger, bloody. And… the five dollar shake.”
Were you about to laugh? Call out his name? That was enough for you to get antsy in your seat, but you didn’t want to draw attention. You saw him again while finishing up half of your meal, giving the couple their drinks and disappearing back into the kitchen. He was doing his job, but it wasn’t like he was giving his one hundred percent. For someone who preached to the Gods about professionalism, Mr. Pink sure lacked work ethic. Every employee was on point with their character impersonations as if you had travelled back in time. Meanwhile, he acted like himself and seemed bored while wearing an emotionless face, as if he hated his job and epitome of his existence. It was never a dull moment for him whenever he was with you, though.
You got up to use the restroom.
“We’re lucky we got anything at all. I don’t think Buddy Holly’s much of a waiter,” you heard the man at the booth tell the woman as you walk past them, spotting their food from the corner of your eye. It’s no surprise hearing that. Mr. Pink never looked like the type to work at a job like this.
You sat back down and soon, Mr. Pink reappeared, standing over to the side and watched the announcement of the twisting contest, smoking a cigarette. You see him eyeing two pretty blonde women walking past him, and he looked back his way, now in your direction.
He finally did what you wanted him to do, and he stares at you for nearly a solid minute.
You waved awkwardly.
Mr. Pink tosses the cigarette in a random person’s ashtray and disappears behind the door once again. You darted out of your chair, and marched your way to where he headed, just as the couple he served got up on stage to participate in the twisting contest.
A Zorro waiter jumps in front of you. “Stop right there, mi amor!” his eyes darted at you through the cheap black mask he was wearing. “I believe the bathroom’s on the other side of the bar.”
“Where’s Buddy?” you ask Zorro.
“I’m afraid Mr. Holly is taking a quick break from unenthusiastically serving love birds in their cars.”
“Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”
“Once I see him.” Zorro then took out his sword and pointed it at you, a grin plastered on his face. “Now, shall I escort you back to your dining spot?”
Although you were aware this guy was only in character, you didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out, or having a realistic looking sword ripped through your body. You sighed and turned around, heading back. You noticed at your table a folded napkin beside your empty plate. Mamie Van Doren was last seen there, her back facing you with her heels clicking away on the tiles.
“Excuse me!” you called after the waitress. She ignores you, smiling down at new customers at an umbrella table.
Cocking an eyebrow, you used your finger to flatten the crease and read the note in bold handwriting.
FIND ME UNDER THE GIANT RABBIT.
- BUDDY
You threw the door open and ran outside, precisely under the giant rabbit of the Jack Rabbit Slim’s sign, just like he said on the napkin. You felt like an idiot checking every direction to find no one. Not a lot of the bikers were seen riding or hanging out around the parking lot, some people were coming and going, but you couldn’t find Buddy Holly.
Defeated, you turn to walk back inside.
Mr. Pink rushed out the door and caught his breath. It looked like he was chasing you down before you could take off. A song used for the twisting contest kept playing from inside.
You didn’t run up to him and jumped in his arms or anything dramatic in that matter. You both stared at each other.
A few days before the heist you two stood across each other waiting for Mr. Brown and Mr. White inside the hideout. It was a quiet moment, not an awkward one. He just took that opportunity to study you, as you did him. It took him that moment to realize he was warming up to you.
“Well hello there, Buddy,” you smile smugly.
YOU and Pink loitered at the side of the eatery, where the back door to the kitchen was located. He had taken off his fake glasses, showing his full frame.
“Okay,” you watch him lean against the wall, lighting his cigarette. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”
“What the hell do you think? Cops tagged me when I tried driving away. I was put behind bars, and by some fucking miracle this place took me in when I needed money.”
“You didn’t know any other crime bosses looking for a lanky dude?” Pink rolls his eyes at your joke. “I know the heist went terribly wrong, I saw the news. Everyone’s dead as Dillinger.”
“That briefcase had a shit load of two million dollars worth of stones,” Pink blew smoke out. “I swear, if that asshole undercover cop was never sent to set us up, I could have been enjoying a cocktail in Santorini. You’re lucky you called in sick that day.”
You shuddered, remembering how god-awful the illness was. “Never again. I felt like I was being hot glued to a sauna.”
You remembered the day of the heist. In fact, you mentally prepared yourself for something that you’ve never done before. You braced for what was supposed to go smoothly as Joe promised. Instead, you were woken up by the worst case scenario above 38 degrees. You were thankful Joe took it easy on you and promised another job next time.
“All right, your turn. What did you do after that shit show went down?” Pink asks you.
“Just did my own thing. I wasn’t there so the cops never searched for me.” Pink took a slow drag, staring at nothing. He didn’t really look the same as before. Still lanky, except his hair was a bit more darkened and styled in curls, possibly because Buddy Holly had it permed that way. But his face read that he had been through a lot. Normally you felt zero pity for assholes like him, but you managed to blurt out, “I missed you.”
Pink, blowing out smoke in the air, eyed you up and down and furrowed his brows. “Likewise.”
Not only did it suck not being able to make money, you also couldn’t do it with Mr. Pink. As much as he kept his professionalism to a T, he squeezed in time to get along with you. It was no wonder Joe hired you - you were different than the guys, you moved differently and never felt small. Mr. Pink was drawn to that.
Maybe that was just an understatement. He grew intimidated by something he expected to experience the least from in the job, and of course, straight out of a fairytale, you had to stop and ask yourself if you felt the same way, and if what you felt was right. Neither of you had any idea. It was against the rules to give out personal information to each other, and Mr. Pink took those rules very seriously, even if it was just one job that he most likely wouldn’t come back to unless a higher pay was involved and Joe Cabot liked him enough to recruit him again.
If Mr. Pink grew too attached, if he let his guard down for one second, God forbid something would have happened to you. Without a doubt, he would have heavily blamed himself and walked away from the job without saying another word.
His options were to wait until after the robbery to make a move, or do his job, get paid and leave. Whether or not it was out of selfishness was out of the question. Mr. Pink is already selfish in an intuitive kind of way, he’d rather avoid spiraling into a wave of emotions for one person - so he chose the latter.
“What?” Pink looked at you, feeling a bit tense. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Huh? No. It’s nothing,” you blinked, realizing you were staring at him longer than you should have. You shook your head, most likely shaking off the intrusive thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to tell him what’s on your mind.
If anything, he’s most likely sleeping with the Marilyn Monroe waitress. “It’s just… you shaved the goatee.”
Pink nodded, looking a bit annoyed that there was no facial hair left on his chin to rub. “Buddy Holly had a clean face. For the record, the only advantage of this job is that I’m under disguise. Other than that, this place is a circus. I’m zooming back in time whenever I clock in.”
“It’s a 50s themed restaurant,” you state. “Working here sounds like fun. At least you get to dress up and experience pop culture.”
He scoffs. “No, fuck the 50s. Shit was all I Love Lucy and those puffy ass dresses.”
“They’re called poodle skirts, Pink.”
“Like I give a fuck what they’re called.”
“You know Buddy Holly smiled. He was a singer and a guitarist. If you keep up the attitude, no one’s gonna tip you. Nice Guy Eddie told me about your rant on tipping.”
“Ha! And? You will never find me up on that stage performing That’ll Be The Day, moving like a fucking animatronic.” Halfway finished, Pink tossed his cigarette aside and looked at you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
You felt your cheeks flushing. Fuck. “I am?”
He nodded, putting his Buddy Holly glasses back on his face. “Yeah. It’s a breath of fresh air seeing you here.” He stares down at his wristwatch for a moment.
“Your break’s done?”
“It’s been done,” he says. “Fifteen minutes ago.”
You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so fired.”
“This isn’t the first time I stopped caring, so my boss isn’t gonna bat an eye.” He had his hand wrapped around the back door which was supported by a wooden block to keep it open. “Look, I’ll see ya arou-”
“Pink?” Your heart rose up to your throat.
He turned back to you. “Hm?”
You just had to do it. You reached up and kissed him softly. Pink didn’t shove or curse at you. His features softened, pulling you close to him and kissed you deeply. Even when you two pulled away, his arms didn’t unwrap from your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours now.
“My name’s Y/N,” you tell him.
He stares at you, no snarky, sarcastic comment left for him to give.
“I know you’re not willing to give your name up just yet, you can’t fully trust me, and I get that, but I won’t tell anyone what happened. You got lucky, I think… but I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I’m serious.”
“Y/N,” he says your name for the first time. “You don’t have to go all sappy for me. Karma came in hot. Jesus Christ, I mean, I left you.”
“Not really. You didn’t know me. The cops had the place staked out the entire day, there was nothing you could do.”
He looked down at his shoes. “All right. But still, I feel shitty. Can I at least make it up to you?”
“How?”
Pink shrugs. “I get paid tomorrow.”
“Good for you,” you reply. “Save it like you’re gonna lose it.”
“I’ve had this job for a while now, I got enough to last. But once I win the lottery, I’m gone.”
“To Santorini?”
“With a cocktail in my hand. But that’s besides the point, right now I got enough to take you out on a date… if you’re down.”
“Where would you plan on taking me? Here?” you laugh.
“You’re funny. How about the movies? Overruled, I’m taking you to see a movie. I gotta know where you live first. It’s okay to know now.”
You nodded, you couldn't argue with that. Besides, you two would just be making out in the dark the entire time.
His hand was back on the handle of the back door. Pink pulled it open, looked back at you and smiled for the first time tonight. That warmed your heart, and you were certain it warmed his. He watched you stuff something inside his pocket square as you told him your address. He went back inside, shutting the door on you. You walked back to the front of the restaurant to pay for the bill, and went straight home.
Mr. Pink shuffles past the chefs in the kitchen, feeling through his suit pocket to pull out his notepad and whatever you stuffed inside just moments ago.
I didn’t even serve them. Is this supposed to be for Mamie Van Doren? He stares down at the dollar bill crumpled in his hand. His frown suddenly transitions to a small but genuine smile.
Fuck it. Nothing could stop him now. He definitely owes you a date night. He quickly stuffs the tip back in his pocket square, and comes out the sliding door.
THE END
—
TAGLIST: @locke-writes @aryn-the-bearheart
#reservoir dogs x reader#reservoir dogs fic#reservoir dogs fanfic#mr pink x reader#mr pink#reservoir dogs imagine#reservoir dogs#mr pink one shot#reader insert#reservoir dogs one shot#one shot#imagine#mk's faves
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Ravadhi (Part 9)
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationship: Female Human x Male Half-Orc
Additional Tags: Exophilia, Half-Orc, Monster Boyfriend, Interspecies Romance,Angst, Slow Burn
Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Alcoholism, Drug Abuse
Words: 4148
Holly finds out what her mother left for her in the deposit boxes. Afterward, she and Ravadhi settle into a comfortable routine until it's suddenly shattered. Please reblog and leave feedback!
The Traveler's Masterlist
Holly arrived at the bank only ten minutes after leaving, which was not at all enough time to mentally prepare her for what she was about to find in the deposit boxes, left for her by her dead mother.
She waited in the line anxiously, her fist clenched around the keys that Tonri had given her and her chest tight.
“I can help the next guest,” The teller called. Holly knew him distantly from school, he was a Ratfolk man name was Auro. The two of them hadn’t been friends or really even spoke to each other, but like everyone at school, he knew who she and her dad was, and speculated along with everyone else. Despite that, he hadn’t ever bullied her or ignored her existence out of guilt.
“Hello, what can I help you with today?” He asked as she approached
“Hi, I inherited the keys to safety deposit boxes--” She checked the paperwork she’d received from Tonri. “F152, F153, F154, and F155.”
“Okay, I’ll just need the keys, a photo ID, the death certificate of the decedent, and inheritance letter?”
“Uh, yes, right here.”
She handed the documents to Auro, who took them and scanned them briefly, stopping on the name and glancing up uncomfortably. It was a well known fact that Holly’s mother had disappeared when she was young, but she guessed the news that she was dead hadn’t made the gossip rounds yet.
Auro cleared his throat. “Of course, right this way.” He left his desk and led Holly to a private room. “Wait here a moment and the boxes will be brought to you,” He said.
“Okay, thanks.”
She waited tensely for about five minutes. Then, Auro returned with the four boxes, setting them on the table in front of Holly. He also left a large bank bag on the table.
“Would you like privacy?” Auro asked.
“Yes, please,” Holly replied in a small voice.
He nodded and smile sympathetically, then left and closed the door.
Feeling tears prick her eyes, she sat in front of the four boxes, steeling herself to look inside. She picked the one on the right and pulled it toward her. With shaking hands, she turned the key and slowly opened the lid.
The first thing she saw were the pictures. Hundred of them. Pictures of her, of Holly as a baby, of the two of them smiling and happy and together.
Holly cried softly. She thought all the pictures had been destroyed. She spend a long time looking at the photographs of her and her mother. As she shuffled through them, and envelope fell out from the pile. She picked it up and examined it, and on the front, in her mother’s handwriting, was the word, “Holly.”
Sniffling and attempting to stem the flow of her tears, she carefully slit open the envelope and took out the contents. It was a letter. It was dated seven months before Holly’s mother disappeared.
My baby girl,
I’m so, so sorry.
If you’re reading this, it means that son of a bitch actually killed me and my attempt to escape with you has failed. I’m sorry. I tried. I tried so hard, but he was always one step ahead of me, no matter what I did.
You once asked me, when you were very little, why I was with your father if he made me so sad. I couldn’t answer you then, because you were too young to understand. I was hoping to tell you this story in person one day when we were free of him, but it looks like that day will never come.
Abusive relationships never start out that way, you know. Your father started out sweet and kind and affectionate, and I was fooled. By God, was I fooled. He spent the first year of our relationship waiting on me hand and foot, doing anything I asked, lavishing me with gifts and attention. I was so struck by his attentiveness and loving nature that I fell for him very quickly. Looking back, I realize it was too quickly. I didn’t realize that his attention was manipulation, or that a pattern of dependence was beginning to develop.
The change was so slow that I didn’t even see it. It started with comments, off-handed observations. “Your mom was kind of rude to me today and your brother doesn’t like me. We shouldn’t go over there as much. Your friends talk about you behind your back. You should dump them and get better friends.” He began to drive a wedge between me and all of my relationships, until he was the only one left. He’d convinced me that my family hated me, that my friends were jealous of me. I started cutting ties with people who I loved dearly, and when no one was left, all I had was him. Which is exactly what he wanted.
Then there were sudden negative criticisms about my appearance or how I cooked or cleaned. I was gaining too much weight and wasn’t as pretty as I had been when we first started dating. I was spending too much time at school or work and not enough time with him. He began questioning where I went, how much money I spent, who I was with, why I was out so long. Whenever I protested, he simply said he was worried about me and that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to me, that I was careless, even reckless sometimes, and that I could get myself in trouble. I started questioning myself and actively avoiding things that would upset him. I thought he got angry with me was because he loved me. I didn’t realize he was trying to control me.
Before we got married, he had been pressuring me to leave school, saying that it was too expensive and he couldn’t afford it. I told him I could apply for grants and scholarships, but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. His temper was getting shorter and shorter by the day, and before I knew it, it seemed like he was always angry. He started drinking not long after we were engaged. But I loved him, and I figured it was just stress because of money. It was easy to dismiss the emotional and psychological abuse as stress or concern, but now I know it was never any of those things.
The physical abuse started shortly after we got married. By then, I wasn’t speaking to my family or friends anymore and we had moved to Willowridge for his work, so I was completely isolated. We had another argument about school, and it was the first time he laid a hand on me. He slapped me so hard that he knocked me to the floor, and I was shocked. Looking back now, it’s almost comically obvious that the relationship was heading in that direction, but at the time, I was terrified and so very confused. I was a smart person; smart people didn’t get into abusive relationships, it wasn’t possible. And now that I had alienated all of the people who could have helped me, I felt powerless.
My mother died, and I wanted to go to her funeral and patch things up with my family, but your father convinced me that my family didn’t want me there. They hadn’t called me, after all. There had been no invitation to attend. So I didn’t go. Then my father died, and shortly afterward, my brother took his own life. Suddenly, I was without family and it was now too late to reconnect with them. I dropped out of college due to a mental breakdown, which was what your father wanted. It was then that the abuse became extreme.
He would beat me for any small thing. I had no money, no friends, no resources, and I was now living in a town of which I wasn’t familiar. I felt trapped, but I also felt like it was my fault for falling for it, so perhaps it was what I deserved. I developed an eating disorder, lost a lot of weight, stopped leaving the house, and fell into a deep depression. I always felt anxious and sick. I didn’t even realize I was pregnant with you until I went into labor.
You were a month early, and so tiny. I hadn’t been to the doctor since before our wedding and the eating disorder made my period stop for months at a time, so I had no reason to believe I could have been pregnant.
When you were born, everything changed. I may not have been able to get out for myself, but for you, I would move mountains. I made a deal with your father; you know what it was. He wouldn’t let me work, so I had to scrounge and save any way I could. I was the weirdo who took all the coins from the “take a penny, leave a penny” tray. I dived into wishing fountains and scooped up handfuls of quarters. I’d lie to your father and say I lost the receipt when I went to buy groceries and couldn’t remember what the total was. It always earned me a beating, but it was worth it if I could manage to squirrel away even five dollars. I even sold my wedding and engagement rings. I expected to tell him I had lost them and get a beating, but he never asked about them. Someone who controlled every aspect of my life for years didn’t care that the proof of our marriage was missing. Fitting, I suppose.
I’m not sure how much I’ve managed to save; I’ve never had the chance to count it. I’ve also put away all of my jewelry, collectables, and any small thing I thought might be valuable sentimental or otherwise. I hope beyond hope that you’re free from him as you read this, but if you’re not, I hope I’ve saved enough to give you a chance to get away and live a better life. If there’s only enough for you to buy a bus ticket and get out of this godforsaken town, it’ll have been worth it.
I love you, Holly. I love you so much. If any good thing came out of that miserable bastard, it was you. You were a surprise, but once I saw your little face and your tiny hands gripped my finger, I’d have done anything to keep you safe. I’m sorry I fell short. If you hate me, I understand. But please, never doubt that I loved you. I only wish I could have been a better mother and protected you, and I hope you’re not too disappointed in me.
Forgive me. Forgive me.
Mommy
There were tear stains on the paper, old ones from when it was written, and new ones as Holly read it. Holly held the letter to her chest and wept bitterly.
“I don’t hate you,” Holly sobbed. “I don’t.”
It took several minutes to compose herself. When she’d sniffled to a stop, she turned her attention to the other boxes. In the first, she found jewelry, coins, stock certificates, and the proof of purchase on the house. In the second, there were trinkets she’d saved from Holly’s childhood, like her footprint, her hospital bracelet, and the blanket in which she’d been wrapped in. In the third was a single item: a bank account card.
Holly took all of the items in the boxes and stepped out of the room, walking back up to the teller’s desk.
“There was this account card in the box,” She told Auro. “Do I have access to this?”
“Yes,” Auro said. “Your name is on the account.”
“Oh,” Holly said, surprised. “Can I check the balance?”
“Of course,” Auro said, entering the number into the computer. His hands stilled and he stared at the screen.
“Well?”
“Right,” He said, clearing his throat. “At present, you have $53,640.35 available in your account.”
“Fifty-three…” Holly trailed off. “That’s… mine?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Auro said. “You can use it whenever you like. I can give you a checkbook before you leave, and have a debit card mailed to you within the week.”
“Yes, please,” She replied faintly.
She rode home in a numb fog. When she arrived, Ravadhi and Sarah were sitting on the front porch as if waiting.
“Are you okay?” Ravadhi asked, immediately pulling her into a hug. You accepted it gladly. As soon as he wrapped her up in his arms, she started sobbing again, unable to stop, and started to collapse, her legs crumpling underneath her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” He said softly, moving to sit her down on the porch. Sarah sat on your other side and rubbed her arm.
“What happened?” Sarah asked.
“She left me some things,” Holly managed to gulp out, pulling some of the things from her bag to show Sarah
“Are these you when you were little?” Sarah said. “I’ve never seen pictures of you as a kid.”
“Dad got rid of them all,” Holly replied, shuffling through them to show her. “Or, I thought he had. Mom managed to save some.”
“You were really small,” Sarah said wonderingly. “Even smaller than me.”
“Mom said I was a month premature. I didn’t know that before,” Holly whispered.
“You’re mom said?” Ravadhi asked.
“Oh, she wrote me a letter,” Holly replied, pulling it from her pocket. She began to read the letter out loud to Sarah and Ravadhi. As private and emotionally charged as the letter was, Ravadhi and Sarah were the only two people in the world who Holly felt she could share it with, and because she could, she did. Not only that, she knew they would understand it in a way that no one else would.
“Do you hate her, like she said?” Sarah asked.
“No,” Holly told Sarah. “No, I couldn’t hate her if I wanted to. I wish she had been your mom, Sarah, she was such a good mom. The best.”
“Dad tricked her,” Sarah said, looking up at Holly sympathetically.
Holly nodded. “Yeah.”
“He didn’t trick my mom,” Sarah said bitterly. “All he had to do was pay for her drugs and vodka.”
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Holly said. Sarah shrugged.
“So you own our house?” Sarah asked, changing the subject. “Are you going to kick mom out?”
“No,” Holly said. “It doesn’t matter what my feelings are for your mom, I will always make sure you have a home to go to, no matter what. But I think it’s best if she doesn’t know I own it, so maybe keep it under your hat.”
Sarah nodded knowingly.
Holly sighed heavily, wiped her face, and stood up abruptly. “Well, I am absolutely starving. Do you guys want breakfast?”
That night, Holly lay in bed, unable to quiet her mind. She had decided to keep the news about the money to herself until she knew what she wanted to do with it. There were a million possibilities bouncing around in her head, and she couldn’t pin one down. She could fix up the house for Sarah, put it away for Sarah’s college, put a down-payment on her own house, go back to school, anything. But deep down, Holly was worried.
Ravadhi had said at the beginning that she was to stay with him until she got back on her feet, but now they were dating. Would he want her to to find her own place since, she had the money to do it? She liked living with Ravadhi. It was the healthiest environment she’d ever lived in and she didn’t want to have to start all over again on her own. Was that co-dependent? Maybe, but healthy co-dependence was better than depressed, anxious solitude, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t want to leave, and she didn’t think he would just kick her out. But, as her mother’s letter had taught her, you could never be truly certain of a person’s motives or intentions. Ravadhi had been nothing but kind and caring toward her, but… people can change.
What if she could get custody of Sarah? That would be amazing. If she could prove Diane was an unfit mother, would they even let Holly get custody? She knew that they wouldn’t let Sarah live with a convicted felon, though, so if she could get custody, the matter of continuing to live with Ravadhi in his house would decide itself. As much as she cared for Ravadhi, Sarah was her first priority.
What if she lost the custody case and they put Sarah in some kind of group home? Ravadhi’s tale of being in a group terrified her and she’d never subject Sarah to it. Was it best to leave her in a neglectful environment where at least Holly knew she could take care of herself and be safe? Or try for custody and run the risk of losing her in the system?
Maybe she could ask Sarah. She had a good head on her shoulders and could make good decisions for herself. A lifetime of neglect from her own parents as well as having to take care of her beaten and bloodied sister on a regular basis had aged her prematurely, so she was used to it. Unfortunately.
There had been another thing that had been weighing heavily on her lately as well, even before learning about her inheritance: she and Ravadhi had been officially dating for about a month, but they had both cared about each other longer than that. Would… he be expecting sex? Even if he did, she didn’t think he would be the type to pressure her into it, especially given his history.
Eventually, she fell asleep, wondering if she should ask him about it. A few days later, when they were alone with each other and just sitting down to dinner, she broached the topic.
“Ravadhi?” She piped up shyly. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, anything,” He said, picking up his fork and getting ready to tuck in to his pork stirfry and rice.
“Do… do you want to have sex with me?” She asked.
He immediately began to choke on the first bite of his food, and Holly rushed to get him some water in alarm.
When he was able to speak again, he asked, “Before I answer, is that an inquiry or a request?”
“An inquiry,” She replied.
“Okay,” He said, taking a deep breath and bracing his hands on the table. “Okay.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Holly said, wincing.
“No, no, it’s okay,” He replied, clearing his throat and taking another sip of water. “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to ask. That’s really important to me, that you feel safe and comfortable.” He knitted his fingers and took a second before answering, pondering the question over in his head.
“The short answer is: yes, I do, because I care about you in both a emotional and a physical way, and part of that is wanting to be intimate and sexual. The long answer is: yes, I do, but.”
“But?”
“Yes, I do, but… I know that it scares you and that you’re not ready. Yes, but I never want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel unsafe. Yes, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes until you feel the time is right, even if that never comes. I’m here for you because I love you, not because I want to have sex with you. Your happiness and well-being is more important to me than that.”
Holly blinked and her mouth fell open. She stared at Ravadhi in silent shock.
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“You said you loved me.”
His cheeks darkened. “Oh. I… well… yeah. I do. Love you, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t or don’t want to say it.”
Holly’s heart raced and she felt confused. “Give me some time?”
He nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”
She nodded in return, relieved. “Thanks. And… I appreciate you being cool with everything. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it means a lot to me.”
He smiled fondly at her and continued eating.
The school semester came to an end, and Ravadhi passed all his exams, despite working two jobs and having taken Holly in during the month when he needed to study the most. Now that school was over for the summer, he took some more time to work on the house, which he hadn’t been able to do for a long time. Holly was happy to help him, and it became a new bonding activity for them both. Sarah slept over often since it was summer break, and the three of them were happy.
It was becoming easier for her to be physically affectionate with him, holding his hand and giving him hugs and kisses more casually, which was a huge step for her. He never brought up sex or being more intimate, and Holly appreciated it.
Ravadhi still had the plumbing and overnight security job, but now that school was out, he was able to take more shifts. Holly would stay up and text him until at least his lunch break at eleven P.M. to help him stay awake.
On a warm Thursday evening as the sun was going down, Holly sat on the back porch overlooking the closed-in backyard and watched some videos on her phone while texting Ravadhi back and forth. He was bored, like he always was during his shifts at the power plant. He worked alone at the front lobby and watched the cameras, which Holly was sure was nothing short of riveting. At least he was allowed to listen to music.
>What have you got playing? She asked.
>Sevendust. It’s my go-to band. Very effective at keeping me awake.
>I bet. Do you listen to any female fronted metal bands? I think you’d really like Epica and Otep. Epica has got a great opera vibe. Oh, and Sister Sin is a really good hard rock band. Great vocalist.
>I haven’t heard those bands. They sound awesome.
>I’ll make you a playlist.
>Nice. What are you up to?
>Enjoying the nice evening. I was going to clean up the kitchen before I went to bed, but I was tired. I’ll do it tomorrow after work.
>Going on rounds. I’ll text you back in a minute.
Holly switched back over to watching true crime videos on YouTube. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, suddenly the sun was completely down. She looked at her phone and realize she must have fallen asleep: two hours had gone by. She went over to messages and texted Ravadhi. He hadn’t texted back yet, which was weird.
>Sorry, I fell asleep. Find anything?
Holly decided to go inside and actually clean the kitchen. By the time she was done, Ravadhi still hadn’t texted back.
>Everything okay?
Ten minutes passed and there was no response. Holly began to feel uneasy. With a pit in her stomach, she dialed the power plant’s main line. Ravadhi had to answer that phone, it was part of his job. The phone rang and rang and rang. Ravadhi never picked up.
Holly’s breath stalled in her chest with panic and she called the sheriff’s department.
“Sheriff’s department,” Holly heard.
“Hi, um, look, my boyfriend is at work and he’s not answering the phone, which is part of his job, and I’m worried something may have happened to him,” Holly said in a rush.
“I’m sure he’s fine, ma’am,” The deputy said dismissively. “He’s probably in the bathroom or something. I’m not sure this warrants a welfare visit.”
“I’m telling you, something is wrong,” Holly insisted. “I haven’t heard from him in hours. That’s not something that happens.”
“You’re probably overreacting,” He said. “Just calm down--”
“Who am I speaking to?” Holly asked, getting angry.
“Deputy Reynolds.”
“Well, Deputy Reynolds, my name is Holly Stevenson. Do you know that name?”
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. “Yes, ma’am, I know who you are.”
“Then you know you owe me. You owe me.”
The deputy didn’t respond.
“The least, the very least, you can do is make sure the person who saved my life is okay. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” The deputy replied. “I’ll send an officer right away.”
“You do that,” Holly said. “And I expect a call when you get there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” The deputy said.
Holly hung up the phone and waited anxiously, biting her nails and pacing. A full thirty tense minutes later, she saw red and blue lights outside. She rushed to the door and threw it open. The sheriff himself stepped out of the car.
“What happened?” Holly asked.
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Freefall
aaron hotchner x fem!reader
word count: 15.3k | warnings: smut!!!! alcohol mention, murder mention, rape mention, lots of typical cm violence!
inspired by: its called freefall by rainbow kitten surprise (i highly recommend listening to this song before or during reading!)
Anyway, you say you’re too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / And you don’t want no help, oh well / That’s the story to tell
ok i have put my blood sweat and tears in this lamfkndksjfj this has been my wip for almost 3 weeks this is my entry for @veraiconcos fic challenge!! her prompt fit so perfectly with this fic so i am so excited to share it with you guys. this is by far my most challenging piece and the one i worked the longest on. i really hope you all love it, feedback is much appreciate. i am tagging some moots to signal boost this, i hope u dont mind
Aaron-
This woman killed my dad. They said you’d be able to help. Please find her.
Aaron ran his fingertips over the letter one more time, feeling the depth of the pen, the engravement of each letter into the crisp stationary. He reread the words for a thousandth time, wondering if this time he could discover who actually sent the letter. But unfortunately, just like the past times, there was nothing to indicate who the sender was. The only other thing in the picture was a photograph of a young woman, the person Aaron believed was the murderer. Her face was mostly covered, and he was almost certain the short black bob that sat on her head was a wig. There was nothing about the photo that would help identify her, but on the back of the photo was a date- May 7th 2020, and a city, Sante Fe, NM.
He continued to stare at it, hoping some new information would pop out at him this time. But there was nothing, and he knew if he wanted to find whoever was responsible for this crime, he would need to involve the team. Whoever sent this clearly only wanted Aaron involved, even addressing him personally as Aaron and not Agent Hotchner.. Who could this person be? And who sent him Aaron’s way?
“You’re here early,” JJ hesitated, walking through the doors of the BAU to begin her day.
“Yeah… I’ve got kind of a… thing?” Aaron stammered over his words, trying to decide how he should go about this.
“What’s going on, Hotch?”
“Come take a look at this. It was on my desk yesterday.” Hotch waved JJ over to him, holding the letter tightly in hands. He handed it to her hesitantly, still not feeling comfortable sharing with the rest of the team. It could be a prank, a practical joke, somebody just trying to waste his time. But how did it find it’s way onto his desk? Who would be messing with him like this?
“Was there an envelope?” JJ asked, staring at the words on the paper.
“Yes, addressed to me, but no return address. It seems like it was hand delivered.”
“The handwriting looks like a teenagers, how would he have made it all the way from New Mexico?”
“Maybe somebody else delivered it?”
Aaron and JJ’s attention was quickly taken away when Spencer and Derek walked through the doors, their loud voices cracking through the quiet air of the BAU. They were arguing about something pointless, as they usually did. Aaron felt his head throbbing as the day started to begin, unsure of how much longer he’d be able to make it without some strong coffee.
“JJ, keep this between us for now. I’ll bring it to Garcia, see if she can find anything worth investigating. I don’t want to bring it to the team unless I’m sure we have a case.”
“Understood.” JJ smiled kindly at him, a look he was all too familiar with. Ever since Haley died, it felt like everyone was constantly walking on eggshells around him. Everyone felt bad, and they did whatever he asked without complaint. From a boss standpoint, it was nice, not having to argue your decisions to your team. But, they were more than his team. They were his friends, and he felt he lost them the same day he lost Haley.
Aaron greeted Spencer and Derek quickly, not wanting to get pulled into whatever discussion they were having. He was holding onto the letter tightly, afraid of losing it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he just had a feeling about it. Like he had stumbled onto something huge, and whatever Garcia could find out would lead them to something unbelievable.
“Hey, Garcia. Any chance I could have you work on something… private, for now?” Aaron stood in the doorway of her office, all of the bright screens making him wince. His headache was only getting worse as the day went on.
“Of course, sir. Is everything okay?” She looked worried, for sure hoping that whatever secret task she was performing for him had nothing to do with Haley. Although he knew she would never say anything, he could tell she was worried about him.
“I need you to check deaths in Santa Fe, NM from May 5th - May 9th. Specifically look for men with teenage sons.”
“Just homicides?”
“No, any deaths. And see if you find anything suspicious.”
“Alright…” Penelope said, furrowing her brows in confusion. “It might take a bit. Santa Fe’s a big city.”
“Just get back to me when you can, Garcia.” Aaron smiled slightly at the technical analyst, before leaving quietly. His head was begging him for caffeine, or Advil, or a drink, even though it was barely 9 in the morning.
He walked quietly back to his office, not talking to any of his team, closing the door behind him as he got inside. There was a sick feeling in his stomach, most likely caused by the cigarette he snuck this morning on an empty stomach. He paced uncomfortably, dry swallowing an Advil he found in the back of his desk drawer. He knew it would take Garcia a while
to get his information, but he was feeling exceptionally frustrated and impatient. He started to walk towards the door, feeling the need to to pester his analyst to work quicker, but as he opened it, JJ stood pleasantly in the door.
“We got a case, boss,” she smiled, waving an envelope in the air.
“Alright, let’s get to the conference room.” Aaron closed the door to office, following his Agent into the annex. He felt sick as he took his seat, not ready for whatever horror was about to be presented. Some days he felt like giving up, like throwing in the towel. He has given this job everything he had, and what did he get in return?
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Aaron and the team left an hour later for their newest destination, solving the case within 3 days. They were headed back to DC on the jet when he got a call from Garcia. It was rare she would call him personally if they were not working a case, so he knew it must’ve been about the letter. He waited a moment before answering, anxious about what her news could be. What if she found nothing, and this was the end of the line?
“Hello, sir. I wanted to call as soon as I could.” She sounded nervous, a tone of confusion in her voice.
“What’s going on, Garcia?”
“Well, it’s about the letter. I found something… interesting.”
“Do you think we could have a case?”
“It’s a high possibility, sir.”
“Alright. Can you patch into the computer and share with the team. I’d like to bring them in on this as well.”
“Sounds good, see you in a moment.”
Aaron hung the phone up, walking back to the main part of the jet and back to the rest of the team. They were spread out, all enjoying the calming feeling of a solved case. Spencer and JJ were sleeping, Emily and Derek both with headphones in and Rossi reading a book. He hated to bother them, hated to disturb their peace they all deserved. But that was the job- there was no peace. They all had to endure constant chaos so that innocent people didn’t have to.
Aaron turned on the lights of the jet, alarming his team and causing several groans of frustration.
“What’s going on, Hotch?” Emily asked in desperation, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light.
“I’m sorry to bother everyone, but I think we might have a new case.” Aaron looked around the room, slowly watching the faces of his friends change from their relaxed state to the intensity of a profiler.
“Is this about… the thing from a few days ago?” JJ asked quietly, not wanting to bring it up if it wasn’t the case.
“The letter, yes.”
“Hello, my sleepy friends. I am sorry to bother you, but I have stumbled across something interesting that I believe requires your attention. Uh, Hotch… would you like to…” she trailed off, looking around for her superior to explain how they ended up here.
“I received a letter a few days ago… someone asking us to look into the death of their father. It was anonymous, there was a picture along with it but it still wasn’t enough to do much on my own. So, I handed over what I had to Garcia and…” Aaron trailed off, realizing now he hadn’t even asked Penelope what she got before bringing the rest of the team in.
“I guess that’s where I come in. So, as per our humble leader, I searched for deaths of men on the given dates with teenage sons, and as I expected, that list was quite large.”
“Why teenage sons?” Derek asked, still trying to fill in the gaps of information.
“The letter was clearly written by a young boy, no older than 16 was my guess,” JJ added, explaining her conclusion to the team.
“Garcia, were you able to narrow down the list?” Aaron asked, desperately wanting to know what she found.
“Well, I got rid of anyone whose death was expected. People who were sick or in the hospital, with underlying medical conditions, et cetera et cetera. Once we narrowed it down to deaths that were true accidents, I had a list of three.”
“How do we know this isn’t just a prank?” Rossi asked. It was a fair question, a question he frequently asked himself as well.
“Ah, well, if it was a prank I wouldn’t have found out what I did…”
“That looks like the face of someone who’s about to tell me I’m not going home tonight,” Derek laughed, turning to Emily, who rolled her eyes.
“Unfortunately it does seem like there’s a case here. One of the men that I flagged as ‘Could Be A Murder Victim’ has a… bad past.” One thing that Aaron always admired about Penelope is how she always managed to speak with such lightness, no matter how heavy the content of her words. “42-year old Derek Hood was killed on May 7th, ruled as an accidental drug overdose. There was some chatter that it may have been suicide, but there was no note and the family insisted he wouldn’t have killed himself.”
“So what makes you think it was murder?” Spencer asked.
“Alright, get this. Our man Jason was on trial two years ago for the rape of three different 16 year old girls. It was declared a mistrial, unfortunately, after all three of the girls refused to testify at his trial.”
“Is it possible he threatened them? This could be a revenge killing, if that was the case,” Emily added.
“Ah, I thought that too, my friend. But all three of the girls are now in college and far, far away from Sante Fe. So, that was kind of a dead end.”
“What about the parents?” Aaron questioned.
“We think alike, sir. All three of their families still reside in Santa Fe, and three weeks before Jason’s death, all three couples withdrew $15,000 cash from their banks. One family stated it was for a pool, the other for a car, and the last family stated it was for bathroom renovations.”
“Were any of those projects completed, Garcia?”
“To the best of my knowledge, no.”
“So this is what I think it is, then,” Rossi asked, looking up towards Aaron for confirmation.
“It’s most likely a hitman, yes.” Aaron looked around at his team, a feeling of worry drowning him. Hitmen were exceptionally dangerous, and so were the routes to get to them. It was an extremely well protected underground business, and the chances of catching one successfully, with no one hurt, were very slim.
“Wait, but our unsub is a woman. The photo very clearly showed a female, and even in the letter, the boy addresses her as ‘This woman.’”
“Could we see the picture, Garcia?” Aaron asked, staring at the monitor as he awaited the photo.
“Maybe they’re dressing as a woman to distract any possible witnesses?” Rossi added. The photo then popped up on the monitor, the same hidden person that was ingrained in Aaron’s brain. He couldn’t forget her, her shielded face, cheap wig, perfect body…
“That is definitely a woman, guys. You can’t fake that body…” Derek laughed, causing a wave of eye rolls and a slight shove of disgust from Emily.
“A female hitman… that is exceptionally rare.”
“Maybe she’s killing for justice? I mean, Jason was a piece of shit. And he somehow got away with his crimes, maybe this is punishment,” Derek added, always the first to try to come up with some sort of explanation.
“Why would she charge the parents almost fifty grand, though? That clearly makes it about money,” Emily rebutted.
“Garcia, is there any way we can find out who they gave that money too?” Aaron asked, hoping for a quick and easy answer, but he knew nothing was easy at this job.
“Since they took it out in cash, there’s no way to trace it, sir.”
“We’ll need to talk to the parents.”
“They won’t say anything, you know how that goes,” JJ said.
“We’ll target one of them, whichever is the most unstable. Promise them immunity. That usually works in situations like this.” Aaron looked at the team, noticing how tired they were. He knew how bad they needed to go home, sleep in their own beds, wash their hair with something other than hotel shampoo. But this was big, he could feel it. And they probably did, as well. It was their life, they were all aware of how crazy this career path could be. But, just because he knew that, it didn't make it any easier on Aaron when he had to push them to their limit. “We need to turn the plane around to Santa Fe. If this person is local, it’s best that we’re on the scene.”
“Can we at least stop home so I can get some new clothes?” JJ groaned, looking at the team in desperation for support.
“Fine. Can we be back in the air in two hours?”
“We can make that work,” Spencer agreed.
“Alright. Thanks, guys.”
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Santa Fe was hot. The kind of hot that made it impossible to breathe, and your clothes felt like they had melted into your skin. Aaron could feel his skin on fire, burning hotter and hotter as he stood under the desert sun. Emily stood next to him, glistening in a thin layer of sweat. The two of them stared closely at a house across the street, taking in every detail.
“You ready?” Emily asked, her voice cracking through the quiet air like a whip.
“Uh… yeah,” Aaron stuttered, his brain feeling off. He had a feeling whoever this person was, she wasn’t in Sante Fe. This was a big operation that they had stumbled upon, and he had a bad feeling about the way it would end up.
Aaron followed Emily to the door, feeling exceptionally guilty as they entered the front yard of a family whose lives had been destroyed- and all they were there to do was destroy them further. He knew they only did what they did to avenge their daughter- and he understood. Sometimes he wondered if he should’ve done the same thing with Foyet.
“Are you alright, Hotch? I don’t mean to overstep, but you don’t seem like yourself,” Emily questioned, stopping in her tracks before they made their presence known to the family.
“Just have a bad feeling about this one, I guess,” he responded, rubbing his head with his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s get this over with…”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The two of them walked to the front door of the small house, knocking slightly quietly on the white painted wood of the door. An older man opened the door, immediately tensing up as he saw the two of them. They looked like Agents- or at the very least, local detectives, and the man was pretty quick to understand why they were there.
“Are you Bradley Mathis?” Emily asked, standing a few inches in front of Aaron, clearly trying to take the lead on this. It was probably for the best, since his head was not on right today. In all honesty, his head hadn’t been on right since Foyet.
“Who are you?” Bradley asked defensively, crossing his arms across his chest and backing away from the door.
“Mr. Mathis, I want to assure you that if you cooperate with us, there will be no trouble. We understand you did everything to protect your daughter, and we aren’t looking for trouble. We just want to find the person who did this for you.” As Aaron spoke, he realized how scary this must be for him. His daughter was brutally attacked, they found the man that hurt her, and then he threatened her into silence so he could walk free. If it had happened to Aaron’s kid, he would’ve killed the son of a bitch with his own bare hands.
“You promise me nothing will happen to me?” He asked defensively, his eyes darting nervously across the room.
“I never met her, okay. I swear,” he responded in relief, as if he’d been waiting for the moment he could finally tell somebody. It was exhausting caring around those kinds of secrets. “I got her info from a friend. You go to the website, submit your claim, and she’ll send an assistant out to decide if she’ll take you on as a client. If she decides to help you, you’ll give half the money up front, and half upon proof of… death,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke the words.
“That’s pretty standard practice for what she is…” Emily added.
“How did you find her website?” Aaron asked, wanting to leave this man in peace as quickly as possible.
“There’s some… tricks to finding her. Give me one second,” he said, turning around quickly and darting to another room. Emily reached for her gun defensively, but Aaron put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
“He won’t run.”
“How do you know? He has every reason to dart.”
“I just know. He’ll be back. Trust me.” Aaron looked to his Agent, kindly suggesting but also ordering her to relax. She nodded, crossing her arms as the pair waited for Bradley. As Aaron suspected, he came back a few minutes later with a beat up piece of paper.
“Someone I know from the support group gave me this. It’s how to contact her.” He handed them a brochure that was in pretty bad shape, but still legible enough to understand where to go. From the outside, it looked like a brochure for a dental surgery. But there were certain words highlighted, most likely by whoever gave Bradley this in the first place. It mapped out clear instructions on how to contact this mystery vigilante.
“That’s all I know. I swear.”
“I believe you,” Aaron responded, noticining the calmness flooding over Bradley’s face as Aaron spoke. “You can never tell anybody this, do you understand?”
Bradley nodded, his mouth glued shut as the reality of the situation finally weighed on him. He noticed the guns holstered to Emily and Aaron’s hips, and quickly shut the door, no goodbye’s needed.
“If she’s sending people to meet potential clients before she meets them, she isn’t local,” Emily put together, shaking her head in shock as the pair walked back to their car.
“No, she’s not. Which means we need to get back on the plane ASAP. Send this over to Garcia, I’ll call the team and tell them to meet us back at the jet.”
“Sounds good.”
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“Hello, angels. Are you ready for all the answers to your prayers?” Garcia’s voice popped through the stiff air of the jet, breaking through the harsh waters like a ray of sunshine.
“Were you able to find her, Garcia?”
“Of course, sir. Our girl is fancy. You need five grand upfront just to meet with her. Her website looks like it was designed for a five star hotel. She is legit.”
“Can we actually find her, Penelope?” Aaron had raised his voice slightly, frustration starting to set in. He just wanted this to be over, he wanted to bring her in and end this.
“Yes, yes. Sorry. Our girl goes by the name Ananke.”
“That’s not very intimidating,” Derek laughed, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair.
“Well, kind of. Ananke is a greek goddess, specifically known as one of the most powerful deity’s to control fate and circumstance. It’s pretty fitting, giving what she does.”
“The only way to meet her is to submit an appointment request, which is easier said than done. She has a legit system, requires a birth certificate, social security number, and a license or passport.”
“And five G’s,” JJ added.
“Can we create fake documents and submit them? Maybe have someone undercover go meet her.”
“I’ll do it. This has been my case from the beginning, I’d like to end it as well,” Aaron said, assuring his team he would finish this.
“I can get everything made up and submitted before you land.”
“Is there any way to figure out where she’s located?”
“Unfortunately not at the moment. I am still digging though, it’s possible I missed something.”
“Thanks, Garcia. We’ll see you soon.”
The team made some more small talk after that, realizing there wasn’t much they could do unless they had a location. Aaron’s head was beginning to throb again, absolute exhaustion overcoming him as he sat down and let himself relax for the first time in days. He missed Jack, he missed the comfort of his own bed, the smell of his cheap laundry detergent. He realized he was digging his nails into his palms, his flesh barely intact as he released his tension.
The rest of his team had broken up into their own conversations, ignoring the crumbling mess that was Aaron Hotchner. He walked to the bathroom quietly, snooping through the cabinets and finding a small bottle of vodka. He downed it quickly, letting the liquor burn the back of his throat and take his mind off of everything else. Even if it was for a moment, the distraction was welcomed, and almost necessary for him to keep going.
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It was two full days- almost forty eight hours exactly- when they finally heard back from Ananke. She had agreed to meet with ‘Zachary Wilson’ who was looking for revenge against the drunk driver that killed his wife. And to the whole team’s surprise, it appeared that she was located in DC. Ananke herself said she would meet him, stating that she was ‘in the area’.
The address she gave them appeared to be a popular nightclub in college town, one that Aaron had unfortunately been dragged to on multiple occasions. The team agreed that Aaron should meet her alone, the team standing outside to come in if necessary. She wanted to meet him on a Friday night, which meant the place would be flooded with innocent civilians. It was safest if they stayed out of it, at first.
By the time Friday rolled around, Aaron had barely eaten in days. He was staying alive on coffee, tylenol, and mini bottles of vodka he could keep in his pockets. Oh, and the occasional cigarette was a necessity as well. He had waited anxiously for what felt like weeks to meet her. This case had been weighing on him since the moment he received that letter, and he wanted it to be over. He wanted the anxiety and the chaos to be over. But, once they solved this one, there would just be another after, and the cycle of chaos and anxiety begins all over again.
“I hope you know you can't dress like that,” JJ said, teasing Aaron with a light shove as she walked past him.
“Why?”
“It’s… a business suit, Hotch. And you're going to a nightclub. It screams Fed.”
Aaron looked down at himself, realizing JJ was right. His vibes screamed ‘Cop’, and that was exactly what he did not want.
“Don’t worry, sir. I have something you can borrow from my go bag,” Derek suggested.
“Hotch in Derek’s clothes? That’s something I’ll pay good money to see,” Emily laughed, JJ giggling alongside her as Derek rolled his eyes and threw clothes at the two of them.
“You think these will work?” Derek asked the girls, not bothering with Aaron’s opinion.
“Oh, it’s perfect. Hotch will love these,” they laughed, neatly folding the clothes and handing them to Aaron. He walked away in silence, heading towards his office so he could change. The clothes weren’t a perfect fit, but they were better than his suit. The shirt was way too tight, with a v-neck that was way too deep. His arms felt like they would rip right through the cheap cotton, and his ass felt like it was going to bust straight out of the denim.
He began to walk out of the office quietly, hoping that the rest of the team wouldn’t be waiting for his fashion show. But as he figured, they were standing by patiently for him to show off in Derek’s way too tight clothes. As soon as he opened the door, a riot of laughs and cat calls surrounded him. He felt himself blushing, which was something he hadn’t done in a long time.
“Damn, Hotch. Where have you been hiding those arms?” Derek laughed, his voice echoing through Aarons head.
“I think we need to start casual Friday,” Spencer added, staring in awe at his boss.
“Alright, enough guys. This is a serious case, and I need everyone to be on their best behavior.”
“I’m not sure I can act right with you walking around like that,” Rossi joked, causing the rest of the team to burst out with laughter. Aaron just rolled his eyes, secretly appreciating the light that they all brought to his life.
“Alright, you guys ready to go?”
“All set. Let’s go catch a killer, sir.”
The ride to the club was a bit of a hike, a little over thirty minutes by the time they parked. They were split in two cars, seperated to cover both entrances. The plan was for him to go in and assess the situation, hoping he can get her out without harming any bystanders. If he needed backup, he had an alarm he could trigger that would alert the rest of the team to come in. It was a simple plan, one they had executed a thousand times in the past. But despite that, he felt extremely anxious.
“Are you ready, Aaron?” Rossi asked, raising his eyebrows in concern.
“Yeah, let’s get this over with. Stay alert, guys.” Aaron walked out of the car and to the entrance of the club, staring directly at the large bouncer standing in front of the door. He was given very specific instructions on what to see when he approached the man, ones that would deliver him directly to Ananke and avoid having to deal with the actual club.
“You on the list?” The bouncer asked as Aaron approached, not even bothering to look up from his clipboard.
“I’m here to see… A,” he whispered, looking around frantically to see if anyone else heard.
“You got your ID and confirmation number?” He asked, setting his clipboard down and staring intensely at Aaron.
“Uh, yeah. It’s 73491. And here’s my drivers license,” he responded, handing him the forged Virginia license of one Zachary Wilson.
“Zachary Wilson…” the man whispered, making Aaron sick to his stomach as he awaited the man to deny him and send him away, ruining his chances of finding her forever. “You’re gonna go in this door, right here,” he said, pointing towards a hidden and seemingly locked door to his right. “Take the stairs all the way up, knock on the door twice. She’ll be right with you.”
“Thank you,” he responded, relieved as he began to walk past the guard and towards his end goal.
“Oh, and Zachary,” the man added, causing Aaron to turn around in confusion.
“Remember: lei è dalla nostra parte,” he said, a smile creeping on his face as he spoke. Aaron recognized the language as Italian, but he couldn’t translate what he was saying. The bouncer turned around before Aaron had the chance to ask what he meant, but he figured it would just be better to move on and go directly to her.
He slowly opened the door, unsure of what he would find on the other side. To his surprise, it was only an exceptionally narrow staircase in a small hallway, leading directly to another gray door. The sound of fluorescent lights buzzed in the air, making Aaron dizzy as he walked up the steep steps. He remembered what the man said- knock twice. He also remembered the phrase in Italian, lei è dalla nostra parte. And when he finally got to the door, he began to unravel the words in his head. He knocked twice, replaying the words over and over. And when he finally heard the door click open, he understood what the man had meant. She is on our side.
“Zachary?” A man asked, opening the door slightly, only enough to peak out at him.
“Yes. I’m here to see-”
“Ananke. Of course,” he interrupted, swinging the door open and revealing an exceptionally beautiful and ornate room. Aaron walked in slowly, in a daze, his eyes not sure where to look as every piece of the room exceptionally thought out. There was a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the light reflecting rainbows from the crystals.
“She will be with you shortly. Feel free to have a seat somewhere. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Aaron felt like he was at a hotel, the service impeccable as he sat down on the incredibly comfortable and probably very expensive couch. Most hit men he had met with did not present themselves like this. Whoever she was, she had a lot of money. In that moment, he wondered how many lives she had taken- how many people finally got what they deserved. And for a brief and frightening moment, he wondered if she was doing things right?
His thoughts were interrupted when she walked out. Not only did he lose his train of thought, but his breath was literally ripped from his chest. She was no longer covering her face, or wearing a wig. She had finally revealed herself to him, and he was in awe. She was absolutely stunning- beautiful to a level that made his head spin and his heart cramp up. He stood up instinctively, feeling the need to stand and greet her face to face. As she walked closer, he felt his throat getting tighter and tighter.
“Hello,” she spoke, her words floating through the air like a flower in the spring wind. “I’m Ananke.”
“Mhmm, he,” he stuttered, sticking his hand out to shake hers. “I’m…” he choked, unable to get his words out.
“Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, right?” She smiled, and Aaron instinctively reached for his gun.
“Put your weapon away, Aaron. I’m no threat to you,” she instructed, and he complied. For some reason, he believed her. She had no intention of hurting him or anyone else in this building. He didn’t need his weapon.
“How do you know who I am?”
“The FBI has a list of Social Security numbers they regularly use for fake documents. It’s… a hard list to get your hands on. I’m lucky I have friends in high places.”
“So you knew who I was from the minute I submitted my application?” He was shocked, a sick feeling washing over him. Who was she? How was she consistently one step ahead of them?
“I’m sorry to break your sense of superiority, agent. It hurts when someone is smarter than you, doesn't it?” She tilted her head at him, a devilish grin pasted across her face. He wanted to hate her, he wanted to be angry, but all he could focus on was the fire burning inside of him and the hunger building itself, the craving overcoming her. Her skirt revealed a little too much of her thigh and her shirt was a little too low cut and the thought of her flesh on his rippled its way through his body.
“Well, we found you and I’m going to arrest you, so it doesn’t seem like you came out on top here,” he responded, avoiding eye contact as he tried to get his impure thoughts out of his head.
“Agent Hotchner, something you will quickly learn is that I only come on top.” She winked at him, pursuing her lips slightly and smiling. She held her wrists out to him, walking towards him until she was only inches away. “Are you going to arrest me, Agent?”
Aaron reached for the cuffs in his back pocket, pulling them out slowly and staring directly at her. She didn't take his eyes off of him, standing tall as he began to cuff her. Her hands were soft, almost comical as they brushed against his rough and untouched skin. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. He just closed the cuffs on her, her large eyes staring up at him like a doe. He felt dizzy again, the intoxicating smell of her perfume, the subtle hints of berries and vanilla surrounding him in a whirlwind.
He slowly grabbed his phone from his pocket, trying to dial Rossi’s number, feeling drunk as he pressed the button. What was wrong with him? And what was wrong with her? Why would she willingly let herself get arrested so easily? That was the problem. This was exceptionally easy. Nothing was ever this easy.
“Hey, Rossi. I got her. We’re coming down now.”
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Aaron wasn’t surprised that she remained silent the entire car ride back to Quantico. What he was surprised by is that she didn’t appear nervous or angry. She sat calmly, staring out the window, her body relaxed and her lips forming the slightest smile. It made him angry- he didn’t understand her nonchalance.
They tried to talk to her, ask her for her real name, about her crimes- but she would just look at them, tilting her head and smiling before bringing her gaze back outside. When they finally arrived back at the Bureau, she turned towards Aaron and Rossi, slowly speaking her first words in over thirty minutes.
“Am I allowed a phone call?” She asked, staring directly at Aaron, as if it was only the two of them in the car. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world.
“Who exactly would you like to call?” Rossi smirked, rolling his eyes, trying to get Aaron to look at him. But he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. He was drawn to her like a sailor at sea, listening to the sweet song of the siren. He understood, now, why the sailors always swam to their death. It was because it was so damn beautiful.
“I’d like to speak with the Director,” she insisted, her eyes finally releasing Aaron from his hypnosis as she looked in disgust at Rossi. He could sense the shift in her tone as she looked at the agent- she had built up a terrifying exterior that she had on display for most people. But when she looked at Aaron, the wall somehow didn’t exist. Why would she show her true self to a stranger? What was it about him that she was drawn too? Could she sense his pain? Did she know that he understood why she did what she did? That he, too, had felt the rush of ending evil with his own two hands?
“The Director? Of the FBI?” Rossi asked, shocked at her absurd request. “What exactly would you like to speak to him about?”
“I just think he’d be interested to know I’m here,” she spoke, calmly, sitting back in the seat of the car and looking out the window again.
“This girl is nuts…” Rossi whispered to Aaron before getting out of the car and grabbing ‘Ananke’ from the back seat. Aaron followed closely behind, his eyes locked on Rossi’s tight grip around her flesh. He could see the marks his agent was leaving behind, his fingertips dug into her arm. It made him sick. The thought of anyone harming her made him sick. But she was the bad guy- he was supposed to hate her, to send her away and avenge all of the lives she took. Why did he want to save her so bad? Grab her from Rossi, hop in the car and take her away from all of this. It didn’t make sense, the way he felt. And Aaron hated it- he hated feeling out of control of his own thoughts- his own desires.
As they brought her into the BAU, the rest of the team following behind, he immediately noticed something was off when he walked through the doors. The rest of the team must have noticed as well, because they all kind of stopped in their tracks as they walked in.
Derek noticed her first, pacing back and forth in Aaron’s office.
“Strauss,” he groaned, rolling his eyes at the sight of her.
“What is she doing here?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and tensing up.
“I’m not sure. I’ll go find out. Rossi, can you bring her into the interrogation room? Spencer, try and get something out of her,” Aaron instructed his team, watching them seperate and do their assigned tasks as he walked up to his office. When he got closer, he noticed the Director was also there as well. He got a sick feeling in his stomach, remembering his immediate thoughts when he first arrested Ananke. It’s never this easy.
He opened his office door with shaking hands, immediately slapped in the face with tension clinging to the air. The Director stood up as he entered, and Strauss stopped pacing.
“Aaron,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously around the room.
“Erin,” he smirked, not sure why his brain was choosing this moment to crack jokes.
“It’s good to see you, Agent Hotchner. It’s been a while,” the Director said.
“Chris. It’s good to see you as well. Can I ask what you’re doing in my office?”
The two of them looked nervously at each other, as if deciding who had to tell him the unspoken secret. The first thought in his brain was that Foyet was back. He killed him, though. He remembered the life draining out of him. He couldn’t be back. He felt his body get hot, his breathing picking up as he remembered Foyet’s face…
“Aaron… unfortunately, we’re going to need you to let (Y/N) go.”
“Who?” He asked bluntly, confused at the name he was sure he had never heard before. Although his brain was still spinning, he was feeling calmer knowing whatever this was, it wasn’t about Foyet.
“Ananke. You need to release her,” Strauss clarified, her voice equally annoyed and apologetic.
“I’m sorry… I’m confused.” Aaron was realizing now how much easier it was to hate Ananke - or (Y/N) - when she wasn't right in front of him. He couldn’t see her, she couldn’t lure him in. Her spell had broken. “I know for a fact she killed at least one person. I’m not releasing her.”
“Aaron, this goes beyond you. She is no longer a person of interest.” Chris had raised his voice, clearly frustrated at whatever was happening.
“You can’t just take away my unsub and not tell me why. Do you think my team will be okay with that? Do you think I’ll be okay with that?” Aaron was angry, the thought of them taking her away with no reason making him crazy.
“Agent Hotchner, there are some secrets within the Bureau that even you don’t know about.”
“I don’t accept that.”
Chris and Strauss looked defeated, both accepting that they won’t win this battle. Chris shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, contemplating his words.
“What is going on, Strauss?” Aaron begged, the room beginning to spin again, his body craving the sweet release of nicotine and the bitter taste of vodka.
“Your unsubs real name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is a government protected assassin.”
“What?” Aaron’s head was spinning, the room around him dancing in circles as the words floated through his mind. That couldn’t be real. There was no way the place he worked, that he believed upheld justice, would do something so… unjust. So immoral. They had to be lying. “It’s not possible. We met the man that paid her to kill someone. She was paid by a civilian to kill a civilian.”
“She sometimes takes on… side projects,” Chris muttered, clearly knowing his words would upset Aaron.
“And you allow that?” He yelled, his body fuming with anger as he paced around his office. It didn't make sense. Everything he had ever believed in was crumbling right before his eyes- all because of her.
“With the things she has done for us, Aaron, there is a little bit of lenience. Besides, Jason was a bad person, anyways.”
“That doesn’t make it okay. We have a justice system in place for a reason.” He felt sick, the realization that a system he protected for so long was seeping with corruption.
“Did Foyet get his chance for trial? Or did the justice system not count for him?” Strauss looked at him sternly, frustration written on her face. Aaron realized she was right. He took justice into his own hands with Foyet, and he didn’t regret it. How was she doing anything different? For a moment, nothing made sense to Aaron. His entire belief system had shattered right in front of him. He was speechless, his brain splashing around trying to find the right words to express his disbelief. But he was coming up empty, drawing blanks. There was truly nothing he could say that could capture how he felt. He just thought of her, the sweet smell of berries that lingered in her hair, the softness of her skin, the enticing aura that surrounded her when she looked at him.
“What am I supposed to tell my team?” He thought out loud.
“We’ll handle it. Let’s go out and talk to them now,” Chris instructed, walking out of the office and down towards the annex. Rossi noticed the three of them and quickly walked up to Chris, greeting him.
“Could you gather your team for me?” The director asked, Aaron still unsure of how he would explain this to them. Rossi grabbed everyone pretty quickly, dragging Spencer from the interrogation room, which Aaron could only imagine was going very poorly.
“Hello everyone, I’m sorry to bother you all, but the unsub you brought in today is a person of interest in several international crimes. She’s been on our watch list for a while, now, and we’re going to have to hand her over to interpol.” The Directors words were quick and precise, leaving no room for anyone to second guess him. Even Aaron was convinced they weren’t going to release her the minute they were alone.
“What has she done?” JJ questioned, intrigued at the mystery international criminal they brought in.
“It’s classified, Agent. And if you don’t mind, we’d like to get out of here rather quickly. If someone could grab her, please,” he ordered, causing Spencer to quickly walk to the room she was in and bring her back out to them.
She was smirking widely as she walked out, clearly knowing her freedom was inevitable. He had so many questions for her, so much he needed to know, but he had to keep his mouth shut. She was slipping right through his fingers, and he had only just begun to know her.
“I’m so sorry, Aaron. I know how much you enjoyed seeing me in handcuffs,” she whispered to him as she passed by, winking seductively before being taken away by the Director and Strauss.
Aaron felt miserable as she walked away, the three of them heading into the elevator and away from him forever. She now felt only like a ghost, a distant memory fading away as more time went by without her. The team moved on from the loss in a matter of minutes, but Aaron stood there, frozen in place, waiting desperately for her to come back.
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Five days. He was able to wait five days before he went to see her. He tried so desperately to forget about her- it seemed everyone else had. But she seeped into his dreams, tossing and turning as he tried to sleep, her voice, her face, her body, calling to him. He needed to see her again, just to ask her why. He wouldn’t sleep ever again if he didn’t.
So, five days after she walked away, he waited until Jack was asleep, explained to Jessica that he had some paperwork to take care of, and headed to see her. His brain continuously tried to tell him it was a bad idea. He should turn around, go home, and forget her. But he knew it was easier said than done. This was the only way.
When he got to the club, he noticed the same bouncer from before was sitting outside the door. Aaron felt a bit relieved, hoping the man would recognize him and he could lie his way up to (Y/N)’ door.
“Hey, man,” he said casually, trying to sound as calm and not suspicious as possible.
“Can I help you?” The man grunted, clearly not amused by Aaron’s attempt to be friendly.
“I’m here to see A. We met a few days ago, I need to drop my money off,” he whispered, praying to whatever God was listening that this guy would believe his story.
“A isn’t supposed to be meeting anyone tonight,” he groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Aaron could tell it was a long shot, but he had to do whatever he could to see her.
“Call her. She’ll tell you,” he stuttered, looking anxiously at the large man standing between him and (Y/N). It was possible he could take him down if he had to, Aaron thought. It would be a hell of a fight, but he’d brought down bigger men. He shifted instinctively, trying to casually feel his hip and make sure he was still armed.
The man pulled out a small phone that appeared to be very old- most likely a burner they used to communicate. He dialed a number quickly and stared at Aaron, as if hoping his boss would give him the go ahead to kick Aaron’s ass.
“Hey, it’s me. Some guy is here to see you. Said you talked earlier today. Can you check the cams,” he asked, trying to speak quietly, but Aaron was still able to hear every word. He waited patiently for her response, trying to keep his face calm.
“Alright, thanks A.” He hung the call up and placed the phone in his pocket, taking as long as possible to give Aaron his answer. It felt like hours, excruciating pain as he waited for his fate.
“You’re clear to go.”
Aaron was almost positive she would send him away. If she had cameras, she knew it was him. Why would she allow him to come up? Did she want to see him, too?
He knew if he stood there any longer contemplating the situation, he would look suspicious. So despite all of his common sense warning him that something was wrong, he walked through the secret door and up the narrow staircase, knocking twice at her door and awaiting to enter her world.
He was greeted by the same man from earlier, who was smiling brightly as he opened the door and let him in. He offered him another drink, which Aaron politely declined, finding a seat on one of the couches and unable to sit still as he waited for her.
She left him waiting for quite a while. Although it felt like hours of agony for Aaron, his watch assured him he had only been waiting around twenty minutes by the time she finally greeted him. She was wearing a short red dress, golden heels wrapped around her feet as she floated towards him, smiling devilishly as she poured herself a drink.
“It’s nice to see you again, Agent,” she teased, taking a sip of her liquor of choice and taking a seat across from him.
“I needed to talk to you.”
“About what?” She tilted her head, soft lips creating a pout of confusion as she stared at him.
“You knew I was going to arrest you the minute you got my application to meet… if you knew you couldn’t get in trouble, why would you let all of that happen? You could’ve called the Director the minute you knew who I was. Why didn’t you?” Aaron needed to know why she went through the trouble of setting up a meeting with him, allowing herself to be arrested and brought to the Bureau. It didn’t make sense, allowing herself to take such a big risk.
“It seemed… fun. Sometimes my life can be quite boring.” She smiled at him, her flirtatious grin that she seemed to save just for Aaron.
“Wasting my time, my team's time… that's fun to you?” Aaron was getting angry again, his body fuming as he looked at her.
“Well, maybe a part of me wanted to meet you. I mean, we’re not so different, Aaron.”
“Hah,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at her. “You think you and I have anything in common?”
“Oh, are you not the same SSA Aaron Hotchner who killed George Foyet with his own hands?”
“How the hell do you know that?” Aaron had stood up at this point, his anger and frustration causing his body to become restless.
“It’s on your record, Agent. It’s not too hard to find…” She took another sip of her drink, finishing the last of the cups content and standing up to face him. For a moment, they were inches apart, the air between them stock full of tension, anger and attraction swimming around the two. But as he prayed he could control his compulsion to touch her, she walked away, over to another corner of the room, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it.
The smell of smoke intoxicated him, making his knees shake as he craved the burn of nicotine in his throat. She floated back towards him, taking her place back on the couch and burning quickly through her cigarette.
“You seem so angry, Aaron.”
“Because you’re killing people, and somehow the people I look up to to maintain law and order don’t care.”
“Have you ever thought that you’re more angry at yourself than at me? I mean, a part of you gets it, right? You understand what I do, why I do it… and that makes you sick, doesn’t it?”
“I would never justify what you do.”
“Mm,” she hummed, standing up and walking towards him again. She placed a soft hand on his face, Aaron realizing her touch was the first he’d felt since Haley died. The feel of his flesh being caressed by someone, being held by someone- it made him melt.
“Maybe it’s not that, though. Maybe you really do hate me, hate what I do. But a part of you can’t stop thinking about touching me, feeling me… fucking me.” She moved her hand down his body, trailing her fingers down his chest and stopping at the base of his groin. He felt chills down his body, blood rushing to his cock at the slightest touch.
“That’s not- it’s not that,” he stuttered, trying to back away, knowing how dangerous it would be for him to get roped into something like this.
“Right, of course,” she whispered, taking her hand away from him and turning around, walking away. He watched her body as she floated across the room, his eyes glued to her ass that was begging to be touched by him.
“(Y/N)...” Aaron whispered, calling for her, unable to stand the feeling of her being away from him. She turned towards him, walking back slowly, taking her time and letting him simmer in anticipation as she made her way back to the center of the room. When she made her way back to him, he grabbed her chin with his hand, tilting her face up towards him, her lips inches from his.
“I would never want somebody like you. You are a bad person, no matter what you try to say to me.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Agent,” she smirked, her lips almost brushing against his as she formed them into a smile.
At that moment, it felt like any self control Aaron had flew directly out the window. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her body into his and kissing her. It was a kiss that was draped in desperation, anger, lust. His tongue made no attempt to be gentle, selfishly exploring her small mouth and he picked her up and sat her on a table. He tore his shirt off, his desire to be touched, to touch her, overcoming any restraint he had before.
He picked her up, her small frame easy for his trained body to carry swifty to the couch. He threw her down on her back, her body writhing under his, moaning his name so loud that he was sure the club goers downstairs could hear. He wrapped his hands around her neck, gripping gently, listening to her gasp for air as he slid up her dress to reveal nothing underneath.
“You’re just begging for me, aren’t you,” he teased, pulling his hard cock out from his boxers and teasing her entrance with his tip. She nodded slowly at him, unable to speak as he still had his hand gripped around her throat. He was aching to hear her voice again, so he released his hand, getting turned on at the mark he left on her.
He slipped into her slowly, no time to waste on foreplay. He knew he needed her now, that their time was limited and it was only a matter of time before his common sense kicked in and he got out of there. But for the moment, he was sloppily pounding into her, not caring who saw or heard, desperately needing to be as close to her as possible.
He came quickly, the euphoria of feeling another woman for the first time in months too much for him to control. She came too, though. He could tell she wasn’t faking- he could feel it. After they finished, he quickly put his clothes back on, (Y/N) continuing to lay breathlessly on the couch. He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to say something- ask him to stay, kiss him goodbye. But she just pulled herself up and walked towards the other side of the room, grabbing and lighting another cigarette.
“You should go.” (Y/N) instructed, not even bothering to look up at the man who just came inside her moments ago.
“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know. They’ll kill you.” Aaron’s mouth was dry, watching the trail of smoke that followed her as she floated around the room, refusing to give him even a second of her time.
“What do I have to live for?” She asked, finally dragging her tired eyes to his and smiling, one of the first real, and saddest, smiles he had seen from her.
Aaron tried to think of something else to say, racking his brain for the correct words to say. But he continuously came up empty, and he realized he was starting to look more and more suspicious the longer he stood there. He decided to walk away, ignore the part of him that refused to tear away from her.
He walked soberly down the stairs, out onto the street and to his car. As he sat in his drivers seat and started the engine, feeling his face get hot, the rare feeling of wet eyes as he began to cry. And then he started to laugh. An uncontrollable cackle that spilled out of him like a waterfall. It was comical, to look back over the past few months and relive all of the bullshit he had been through. He didn’t even recognize the person in the mirror anymore. And maybe that was a good thing, because the person he used to be was the same person that let Haley die.
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Aaron tried to pretend he didn’t spend every day over the next week thinking about her. The way her soft skin felt when he touched her, the way her lips tasted like bubblegum and her hair smelled like cherries. When he imagined her in his head, everything felt so distant, like he was barely holding on to a dream of her. He could feel her memory slipping away every second, and he couldn’t let that happen.
He had to see her again, and soon. He wondered if she was thinking about him as well, if she remembered the mint chapstick he was wearing, or the Dolce cologne he was wearing. It made him sick, thinking that she forgot him. (Y/N) had slowly become everything to him, what if he was just a passing thought for her?
The team had landed back in DC an hour ago, solving a case in Miami that was one of the easier ones they had had this year. Aaron was grateful for the slight break, his brain not completely in the right headspace.
He rushed to finish up the closing paperwork, scribbling his words sloppily and without much care for grammar. He knew as soon as Strauss read his, she would call him and question his mental state. But he didn’t care. He just needed to get the hell out of here tonight, and if that meant sitting through another of Strauss’s evaluations, it was worth it.
As he was signing the last of the documents, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He grabbed it with caution, not sure who would be calling him this late at night. The call was coming from an unknown number, and Aaron immediately worried something had happened to Jack. He was away at his grandparents this week, planning on staying a few more days. He answered the phone nervously, preparing for whatever horror was to come.
“Hello, Agent,” a female voice said, a voice he instantly recognized as (Y/N)’s. Her voice flowed smoothly like silk even over the phone. It was truly hard to believe how she had managed to perfect every aspect of herself.
“Why- how are you calling me?” He looked around cautiously, making sure no one could secretly hear any part of the phone call.
“I’m flying to Paris this weekend, a little well deserved vacation. I was calling to see if you’d like to join me.”
“I… Paris? I can’t just fly to Paris.” Aaron chuckled into the phone, the idea of someone just getting up and deciding to fly halfway across the world with no plan truly comical to him.
“Oh, I didn’t realize I’d called the Fun Police. I thought this was Aaron Hotchner,” she teased. He could feel her smiling through the phone, a warmth that somehow seemed to wrap him even though he could only see her in his thoughts.
“I can have fun…” he argued, biting his lip awkwardly, not wanting to seem inferior to her.
“When was the last time you did something for yourself, Agent? Have you ever just… been spontaneous?”
“(Y/N), you don’t understand-”
“Call me A on the phone. It’s safer,” she instructed, her voice losing its soft luster as her professional side kicked in.
“A… my job, my life… it doesn't leave room for spontaneity.”
“No, Agent. That’s your choice. I’ll be at the jet runway at Dulles in two hours. Think about it. I’ll wait for you.” She hung the phone up, not giving him room to protest. He set the phone down on his desk, instantly missing her even more than he did before. Jack was going to be with his grandparents for three more days, and he did have some saved up vacation time. But what would he tell the team? What would he tell Strauss?
His phone vibrated again, this time only a single buzz to indicate a text message. He flipped his phone over and saw a new message from an Unknown number.
Life doesn’t have to be so complicated, Agent. It is much too short to spend this much time suffering. Learn to enjoy your days.
A
He reread the message a thousand times, knowing the words would still reign true no matter how much he tried to convince himself she was in the wrong. He had spent his whole life serving others, and he was okay with it, until now. Maybe if he had lived without complication, and enjoyed his days, his life would be completely different…
He ran home and quickly packed a bag, letting Strauss and Rossi know he needed some ‘alone time’ for a few days. They didn’t question it- one nice thing about having a recent trauma, he thought. He took an Uber to the airport, praying that (Y/N) kept her promise and waited for him.
When he finally arrived on the runway, he noticed her immediately. It was as if even being near her set an alarm off inside of him, like every part of his brain was awake, feeling her energy from a hundred feet away.
He thanked the Uber driver and ran to her, bag in hand. As he got to her, he noticed her face. She wasn’t surprised or shocked in the slightest- she knew he’d come. She somehow knew every move he would make. Was he that predictable… or was it something special between them?
“I have to be home in three days,” he said, breathlessly, overjoyed at the sight of his girl.
“We can do a lot in three days,” she responded, smiling wickedly. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso and embracing him. It was such a nice feeling to be held, comforted. He felt like he could stay there in her arms for years. But she broke the hug pretty quickly, motioning for one of her men to take care of the bags and began walking towards the jet.
As he followed her up the stairs and into their own private world, he started to remember everything he was leaving behind. The realization of just how impulsive this was dawned on him as he looked back at the city behind him. He felt dizzy, leaning on the railing for support as he shakily walked up.
“You alright?” (Y/N) asked, placing a hand on his arm to steady him.
“This is crazy, (Y/N). I just can’t believe I’m doing this.”
They continued to walk into the jet, her hand intertwined in his as they sat down and the door closed behind them. A man came out from behind the curtain, who Aaron immediately recognized as the same man who greeted him both times he met her.
“Aaron, this is my… well, assistant, I guess. Jay, this is my new friend, Aaron.” She waved to Jay slightly, instructing him to come closer.
“It’s good to meet you sir. Can I get the two of you anything to drink?” Jay was a short boy, couldn't have been more than 25. He clearly worshipped the ground she walked on, which seemed to be par for the course with men she knew.
“Oh, hmm,” she thought, closing her eyes for a moment as she racked her brain for a decision. “Whiskey sour. What would you like?” She turned towards Aaron, the subtle tilt of her head reminding him of how pretty her neck looked with his hands around it.
“I’ll do a Scotch, neat,” he ordered, something so enticing about ordering a drink on a private jet to Paris.
“I’ll grab those for you now. Matt is ready to take off, A, are you all set?” Jay turned back towards his boss, his eyes widening like a puppy as he waited for her words.
“I’m ready to go Jay, thank you,” she smiled, looking at him quickly before bringing her attention back to Aaron. Jay took her disinterest as a sign to leave and make their drinks, so he shuffled away quickly after she looked away.
He came back with their drinks a moment later, leaving quickly after and closing himself in the cockpit. The jet began to take off shortly after, and Aaron took a long sip of his drink, hoping the alcohol would calm any nerves he had left. He started at (Y/N) dreamily, as she shuffled through her phone and a pile on various paperwork on her lap.
“Sorry, Agent, just finishing up some work,” she whispered, her eyes still staring down.
“Mmm, it’s okay,” he responded, just happy to be in the same place as her again. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she smiled, setting her work aside and bringing her attention to Aaron.
“Why did you kick me out the other night? After…” His voice trailed off, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
“I figured it be best for you. I didn’t want to wrap you up with my life… with me. But in all honesty, I can’t stop thinking about you. I called you tonight, and told myself if you didn’t show, I’d move on. But… you’re here.”
“I’m here,” he whispered back, his eyes tracing down her body, craving her once again.
“I feel like we have something special, Agent,” she whispered seductively, climbing out of her seat and walking towards him.
“I missed you… I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” he moaned as she bent towards him, her lips kissing down his neck and playing with the collar of his shirt. She unbuttoned the top buttons, kissing his chest and moving her hand to his inner thigh. She trailed her fingers up his thigh, teasing his cock with the slightest touch. His hips bucked uncontrollably, blood flowing down to him as his desire took over his body.
She got down on her knees, toying with his belt buckle. She was clearly trying to make him wait, the suffering and craving all a part of her game. But he was impatient, so he ripped his belt off himself, undoing his pants and pulling his erect penis out.
(Y/N) licked her lips in anticipation, wanting to pleasure him as much as he wanted to be pleasured. She played with his tip slowly, toying her tongue around him as he moved underneath her. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, slowly pushing her mouth down around him. He wanted her to take all of him, to feel the back of her throat as he shoved his length in her mouth. She moaned quietly as she took him, bobbing her head up and down quickly and sloppily.
Aaron couldn’t remember the last time he got a blow job- let alone the last time someone enjoyed giving him one. (Y/N) was toying with him, clearly enjoying the pleasure she was able to give him just with her tongue. She looked up at him as he was about to cum, winking as she dragged her tongue up his shaft. The eye contact sent him over the edge, causing him to release himself in her mouth. She swallowed his cum happily, kissing him on the cheek and sitting back down on her chair.
He wanted to go to her, give her what she needed now. But he was exhausted, the exhilaration of her taking away all of his energy. He took another hefty sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He buckled his pants back up and readjusted himself in the seat.
“Don’t hate me, handsome, but I do have to get some work done. Feel free to sleep on the couch, or watch a movie. I’ll let you know when we get there.” She blew him a kiss, teasing him with a wink before losing herself in her work. He wondered what part of her job she could possibly be doing from the seat of a plane. There was truly so much he didn’t know about her, which made it so much more exciting.
He finished his drink, watching her work in awe as the plane soared over the Atlantic. He felt himself drifting off and didn’t try to stop it, wanting to be fully rested so he could make the most of his time with her.
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Paris was unarguably Aaron’s favorite place on Earth. Whenever he told people that, they always kind of chuckled. It was kind of a feminine city, at least that’s what everyone told him. But god, he loved it here. The food, the architecture, the people… but most importantly, it was her.
She had made every second of his life magical. When they landed, she brought him to a small bakery near the Louvre, where they sipped wine and ate the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. It was only 10 AM when they got there, but nobody seemed to pay them any attention as they drunkenly strolled down the Parisian streets, giggling and kissing and living.
When they finally sobered up, they made their way to a gorgeous hotel, where (Y/N) got the nicest suite available. They ordered a few bottles of champagne, popping them open as soon as they got inside and helping themselves to many glasses. They drank out on the balcony, overlooking the whole city as they downed more alcohol.
The suite came equipped with a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, which (Y/N) was begging him to take advantage of. She stripped down in front of him, lighting candles and drawing a tub of steaming water. She took a bottle of champagne into the bathroom and soaked herself in the tub, lavender scented bubbles surrounding her. Aaron couldn’t resist the temptation of her body, so he quickly followed after her, stripping down and slipping in the bubbles with her.
She sat on his lap, he kissed down the back of her neck and nibbled on her flesh. She moved her butt into him, the softness of her flesh pushing into his cock.
“I told you, sometimes it’s fun to be adventurous.”
“I never doubted that. I just think this is all… crazy…”
“Are you not enjoying yourself?” She giggled, pushing bubbles towards him and splashing around the water.
“Oh do not play games with me,” he laughed, splashing water towards her. She squealed when the water hit her face, scrunching her nose as she wiped the bubbles from her cheeks.
“Let’s go,” she smirked, standing up and carefully stepping out of the bath. Her skin was glistening from the water, bubbles dripping down her flesh. He stared in awe at her, obsessed with every curve, every inch of her more perfect than the last. She walked slowly out of the bathroom, her butt wiggling with every step. She was clearly calling for him, begging for him to follow her wherever she went. And he would. He did.
He ran after her carefully, finding her naked body wrapped in the fluffy comforter of the bed. She smiled when she saw him, sitting up and wrapping her hands around his neck. She brought his face towards her, kissing him slowly, allowing their lips to enjoy every second they had with each other.
Aaron’s hands were gripped on her hips, his naked body grinding into hers. He hadn’t known this feeling for a long time- the feeling of complete and total calm. For the first time in an absurd amount of time, he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t thinking of every terrible thing that was happening around him. He was only thinking about her- the way her lips felt on his, the way her body moved… his whole life had so suddenly become wrapped up in her.
But, the trouble was, nothing good in his life stayed. And it was only a matter of time before the universe took her away, too.
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The rest of their time in Paris went by in a daze. Most of their time they were either drinking or fucking, taking breaks to walk aimlessly around the Louvre and stroll down the Seine. He was heartbroken when he had to go back, but he did miss his son, and was sure the team was falling apart without him. When they landed back in DC, (Y/N) had a car ready to take Aaron home.
He had a good hour before Jack would be back, so he used his time to take a long shower and brew a strong pot of coffee. It was almost 7 at night, but his body was still messed up from the change in time zones, and he knew he wouldn’t get much sleep that night. He was already missing her, checking his phone every five minutes to see if she would whisk him away on another adventure.
But, as he quickly learned, she was the type of person to disappear for a while. Aaron didn’t hear from her for seven full days after Paris. Seven full agonizing days of wondering where she was, who she was with, and most importantly- what she was doing.
Being away from her made it easier for him to realize the reality of their situation. She was a killer; and yeah, maybe she only killed ‘bad’ people, but did that really make it any better? At least, that was the question he was asking himself. Surprisingly, as more time went on, the harder time he had convincing himself she was a villain. Maybe it was because he was falling in love with her, maybe it was because he understood the anger of watching guilty people walk away from things completely unscathed.
They didn’t speak about work once during their time together, although it was clear Aaron had a lot of questions. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she could be doing for Strauss and the Director. Who was she killing that they couldn’t get to the normal way? He wanted to know her life, understand the secrets she spent her existence protecting- but it wasn't for him. And maybe that was for the best. The mystery of it all made it… hotter.
So when he finally heard from her, seven full days later, he felt like a kid on Christmas. He recognized the ‘unknown’ number as it popped up on the screen, stepping into his office so he could speak with her privately.
“Hi, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke, her voice singing to him. He loved the way she called him Agent. He loved everything about her.
“I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”
“Oh, working. You know.” He could tell she didn’t want to speak any more about work, so he changed the subject.
“Are you back in DC?”
“For a bit.”
“Can I see you? Let’s get dinner somewhere. Anywhere.”
“I… we probably shouldn’t be out together like that… if we saw anyone we knew… your team…” She spoke her words carefully, not sure how to tell him that their relationship wasn’t exactly approved of. Aaron had never really thought about it, but the reality made him sick. Would he never be able to love her publicly? Hold her hand at the park, take her to eat at his favorite restaurant, introduce her to his friends?
But the adrenaline, the euphoria of being with her- it was worth any negatives. He would eat in the dark with her, hide her in his house, runaway with her…
“Come over to my place, then. We’ll order pizza, watch a movie.”
“Hah,” she giggled, her laugh airy and full of light just as he remembered. Hearing it made him smile. “I can’t remember the last time I ordered pizza and watched movies with a boy…”
“Well, given the circumstances, I have to get creative A.”
“What about Jack?”
“Oh,” Aaron responded, forgetting for a moment that she had yet to meet his son. He didn’t think twice about it, wanting his son to know the woman that was bringing him so much joy. But was it safe? And did she want to know him?
“I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What is happening between us? Are we just messing around… Is there feelings?” He hated to ask her such a loaded question over the phone, but he needed to know the answer- he had to know if she was just as head over heels as she was.
“Agent, no man I’ve ever ‘messed around’ with has this number.”
Aaron chuckled, the nervousness in his chest subsiding.
“Come over tonight, please,” he begged, craving the way her lips felt on his.
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight, Agent.”
“I’ll see you tonight, A.”
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Aaron didn’t expect just how wonderful (Y/N) would be with Jack. He had never really seen a maternal side to her before, but she was incredible. Jack took a liking to her as well, even falling asleep between the both of them as they watched Finding Nemo. After they were sure he was asleep, Aaron carried his son to his room and put him to bed, (Y/N) following close behind, in awe of the way Aaron cared for his son.
“You want a glass of wine?” Aaron whispered to her, the two of them hand in hand as they walked back to the living room.
“Please!”
He poured the two of them overly generous glasses of Riesling, snuggling up on the couch next to her and kissing her on the forehead. They tried to find a movie for a bit, scrolling through endless channels before giving up.
“Can you stay the night?”
“I wish, but I have to catch an early flight tomorrow,” she frowned, her pout showcasing her perfect lips that he couldn’t get out of his head.
“Where are you going?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Her face turned pale and emotionless as she thought of a response, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she responded.
“I’m sorry.” He felt uncomfortable, not sure exactly what to say to her. They had never had an awkward silence before, and it made him sick as he waited in the quiet for her to respond.
“I probably should get going,” she finally said, setting her almost empty glass of wine down on the coffee table.
“Oh, c’mon, we just got some time alone…” he pleaded, but he could tell by the look on her face he had already lost her.
“I’m sorry, love. I just have a lot to prepare for this case.”
“I understand. Will I see you soon?”
“I’ll do my best, Agent.”
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California was a popular hot spot for serial killers. It seemed like Aaron and the team were there every other week. This time, San Francisco was the lucky city. He had already been there for two days, stuck on an incredibly weird case, when he got the call.
“Good morning, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke.
“A… it’s good to hear from you.” He was relieved at the sound of her voice, the dark energy of this specific case seeping into him, choking any optimism out of him.
“How are things?”
“I’m working on a tough case, to be honest. It’s taking a lot out of me.”
“Would it be better if I was there?”
“How is that possible?”
“I was… in the area. Set some time aside to stop by.”
“I’m going to be really busy…” he frowned, realizing now how difficult it would be to actually see her.
“Oh, Agent, I sure hope you can make time to see me,” she teased, giggling through the phone, her laugh wrapping him in warmth and shielding him from the darkness of reality for a moment.
“Well, I have to sleep at some point,” he responded, laughing himself.
“Call me when you get back to your hotel. I’ll be waiting.”
Aaron hung the phone up quickly, peeking around the corner of the SFPD office they were currently set up in. Luckily, everyone was too busy to listen in on his personal conversations. He wondered what his team would think if they knew what was going on behind closed doors. Would they still stand around and trust the system they were working so hard to uphold? Because Aaron could barely stomach it.
“Hey, we’ve got a problem,” Derek said, coming around the corner lookingfor his superior.
“What’s going on?”
“C’mon into the conference room. Garcia will explain everything.”
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He didn’t make it back to his hotel for another 12 hours. It was nearing 11 PM by the time he finally closed the door and could be done for the day. Although with his job, he was never really off the clock.
He called (Y/N), pushing aside any exhaustion he had for a moment with her. She was there within twenty minutes, sneaking through the door, giggling and kissing quietly, trying to be secretive. It was risky, extremely risky for them to be together with his team just on the other side of a thin hotel wall. But he couldn’t help himself. A part of him wanted to get caught, be exposed, so they could stop sneaking around. He wanted to love her in front of everyone.
He forgot about the case briefly as he lost himself in her flesh, kissing her soft skin and making love to her - twice. When the exhaustion finally overcame him, he crawled into her arms and let the horrors of his job overcome him.
“It’s a bad one, this case,” he divulged, knowing he shouldn’t be telling her the details, but needed a release. He needed to scream, and she was the only one around to hear.
“What’s going on?”
“Some CEO’s kid has been going all around the country killing teenage girls. Eevrytime the police get close to him, he just runs. Five different cities, and he’s escaped them all. Thirty six bodies that we can find. Probably more. And he’s going to get away, here, too. Garcia found out he sold his house a few days ago and bought one in Miami.”
“Well if you know it’s him, why aren’t you arresting him?” (Y/N) had a confused look on her face, her eyes wide and her lips forming a slight pout as she waited for him to respond.
“We don’t have enough physical evidence. He fits the profile perfectly, and we are able to trace bodies to him in every city he’s lived in. But that’s not good enough for the courts. He’s just going to keep getting away…” Aaron felt his heart pounding, the face of Foyet flashing over and over in his head.
“Sometimes… the system doesn’t help everybody.” She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes darting nervously around the room.
“That’s why people like you exist, right? To serve justice to those who escape it.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
Aaron looked at her, her cheeks flushed and her breathing sporadic. They were thinking the same thing, it was only a guessing game on who would break the silence first. He didn’t think it would be here, she was too nervous.
“(Y/N)...” he whispered, placing a hand on hers.
“What are you asking me to do, Agent?” She finally looked up at him, her face flat and emotionless, a side of her she had never shown him before. It was her work face, her business face.
“I want you to do your job, A.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“It’s the only way to stop him.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” She got up out of the bed and started putting her clothes back on, slowly redressing herself as she prepared to go back to work. She grabbed one of the three phones she carried, hastily dialing a number and putting the old cell to her ear.
“Hey, it’s me. I need the car here ASAP, and the bag... Yeah, it’s a change of plans. … I’ll tell you in the car.” She hung the call up and put the phone back in her bag, refusing the look at Aaron the entire time she was preparing herself.
“You’re doing this now?” He laughed, getting up and trying to stop her from leaving. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him, her body struggling to get away. She felt tense, tired. Her body was no longer surrounded by it’s usual warm glow. She was cold, and dark. She wasn’t her.
“Agent, if this is what you want, I need to handle it my way. Please let me go.”
“Will you… can I see you after?”
“I need to leave the city immediately after it’s done. And it’s best we don't talk for a bit. I can call you when I think things are safe.”
“How long is a bit? I mean, I don’t want to give you up.”
“You can’t have both, Aaron. Either I’m (Y/N) or I’m Ananke. Do you want more girls to die? Or do you want a girlfriend?” She was yelling, her voice a loud and intense version of itself that he was unfamiliar with. It made him dizzy. He sat down clumsily on the bed and put his face in his hands.
“Kill him,” he mumbled. She was quiet for a few seconds, and so was he. And awkward silence. Something they had never had. He felt like she was staring at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“I’ll call you when I can, Agent. It’s been wonderful working with you.”
Aaron swore as she walked out the door he could hear her cry. Maybe he was making it up to make himself feel better. There was no way she could walk away that easily and not … hurt. He hurt, so terribly bad. How long was a bit? A few weeks, months? Would he ever see her again?
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Aaron awoke to a loud banging on his door and his phone buzzing like crazy. The ringer was on, but not loud enough to awaken him from his alcohol assisted slumber. He shouldn’t be drinking on the job, he knew that rule better than anyone. But he had to shut his mind up.
He opened the door to a rattled Derek Morgan, his forehead sweating and hands shaking.
“You are not going to believe this,” Derek said, chuckling slightly.
“What’s going on, Morgan?” Aaron knew what he was going to say, but he had to pretend to be surprised. Would Derek know? He was by far the best profiler on the team. How long could Aaron keep up a lie before Derek figured something out?
“Our unsub died last night. Car accident. He hit a railing and his car just… exploded.” Derek held his tablet out to Hotch, showing him various photos from the scene. His car was completely crushed and torched. You could see his body, but there was absolutely no way to tell what was happening at the time of the accident. The damage of the car was far too elaborate to find any remnants of explosives- if that’s what she used. But whatever she did, it was brilliant. There was no way anyone would think twice about this. She was brilliant.
He could feel himself smiling, being impressed with her work- but he remembered Derek was still standing there, unknowing of the secrets Aaron held.
“Well, I guess we can finally get the hell out of San Francisco,” Aaron laughed.
“You think this is the end? He just dies in a freak accident and it's over? Are we that lucky, Hotch?” Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed in the classic way his face always looked when he was suspicious.
“He’s not around to hurt anyone else, and that’s the end of it. Our jobs are done here. I want wheels up in an hour.”
Derek just nodded in agreement with his supervisor, realizing it wasn’t worth the argument. Aaron was right, the bad guy was gone and that was good enough for him.
Aaron closed the door to his hotel, grabbing his phone and dialing her number. He had assumed she’d already disconnected the line, severing their connection for the time. But it rang, and somebody answered.
“A…?” he whispered, waiting for her voice.
“You shouldn’t be calling this number,” a man responded, a voice he recognized as Jays.
“I know, I know, but please. Please just tell her something for me.” Jay was silent for a moment, deciding what to do.
“... What?” He asked, quietly.
“Please just tell her I said thank you. For everything.”
And then the phone disconnected. The call was over. She was gone. For who knows how long?
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One week later, SSA Aaron Hotchner was sitting in his office when Erin Strauss walked through his door. She didn’t knock, which made him jump. She walked right in and sat down on his couch, taking a deep breath. A disappointed sigh.
“Hello, Erin.”
“Agent Hotcher.” She looked at him angrily, her lips pursed and eyes tight as she thought of her words.
“What can I do for you?”
“In all honesty, Aaron… did you think we wouldn’t find out? You are a federal agent. Your passport is flagged any time you enter a foreign country. You were in Paris at the same time as her. And then San Francisco? She was there on assignment and your uncatchable unsub just happens to turn up dead?”
“Am I fired?” He asked, his only thought on what they were doing to her.
“Aaron… what are you doing? You are losing yourself! If this is about Haley…”
“Just tell me something. What are you going to do to her?” He bit his lip nervously, Erin avoiding his eye contact.
“Right now she’s being relocated, on a six month assignment. We’ll see what happens after that.”
“Where?”
“You know I can’t tell you that!”
Aaron sat for a moment, completely unsure of what to say next. Maybe Erin was right, he had lost himself. He would’ve never imagined himself in this situation.
“What do I do now?”
“You move on. And you do your job, the right way. I’ll cut you some slack this time, Aaron. But if this happens again… there will be consequences. Do you understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Erin walked out of his office quietly, closing the door as she left. He waited a moment, a long moment, before pulling out his phone. He had to at least try to talk to her. Even if the number didn’t work. He had to try.
But it rang. And this time he knew it was her who answered.
“Agent.” She answered sharply.
“Where are you?”
“I’m still in DC, as of now.”
“If I asked you to stay, would you?”
“You know it doesn’t work like that. Either I go, or they send me to prison. I’m sorry, Aaron. But this… was destined to fail from the beginning.”
“No, (Y/N). I don’t accept that. I love you.”
“You can’t. I’m sorry, Agent. This is goodbye.”
#vicficwriterchallenge#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner fanfiction
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A tale of two. Alex Turner. Two.
Description (Part One.) Alex Turner x fem!Reader. (Y/N) (Y/LN) is a young and promising publicist in show business. Her work would cause the encounter with the person who would turn her life upside down: Alex Turner. But what happens when love seems to go counterflow? When everything seems inconvenient?
Words: 1,8k.
A/N: Here it is... The second part!!! I’m so excited because you guys liked the first part so much!! There are a few things I’d like to say that I forgot the other day. The first one is a warning: this story has MAJOR ANGST. Like really... a lot of angst. Second thing, it has a lot of parts and I’m now in a place where I’m wondering what to do with the middle/ending of it. You can find the spanish version of this story on my wattpad profile. That’s it for now.
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Part One.
Alex
He couldn't stop reading one after another all those words, all those feelings. He couldn't help it but stop for a couple of seconds every time he saw his name written on that paper: Alex.
That small handwriting, slightly inclined, at times it looked shaky, the dots on the i's always ahead of the own letter. "It is said that if the dots are ahead of the letter is because you think a lot in your future and the future of those who you love" she had said one day while she looked at Alex's handwriting "Well, I can't stop thinking about our future." He answered, looking deeply into her eyes.
He read the letter once more, and he regretted it, again. The more he read his name, the more memories came to his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about how his name sounded in her lips. How it sounded when she laughed, or when she was mad at him.
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry as well, Alex." That was the last time she had said his name, it felt like centuries ago. He opened his eyes, he looked at his name, written in black ink. Suddenly, in the middle of all the thoughts crowding on his mind, the memory of the first time he saw that handwriting appeared, that same day they met.
He woke up to the sound of a phone, his phone. He felt the sun covering his body, which meant that he hadn't close up the curtains the night before, which was weird since it was the last thing he usually did before going to bed.
Not only the sun was covering his body but also something heavier than the bedsheets. He opened his eyes to find the body of a blonde girl on his. His phone was still ringing and it was killing him. In the way of searching for the phone, his eyes met the black clock on the opposite wall. 10:50 in the morning.
"Shit," he whispered. The girl started waking up, she looked at the clock.
"Fuck, I'm one hour late to work." Alex picked up the phone while the girl, completely naked, tried to find her clothes in order to get ready and going to work as fast as possible.
"Hello?" Alex answered.
"Alex? Where the fuck are you?" Matt asked, sounding pissed off.
"At home, I fell asleep"
"Shit, Alex. Hurry up, Max isn't here yet, maybe you can get here on time."
"Alright, give me some minutes dammit," he said, hanging up.
"I'm going now," the girl said, approaching Alex and kissing him on the lips. "Call me"
"Sure," he said, looking at her figure going down his hallway.
Mia, from work, she was always at the reception. She hadn't studied anything, and the studio had probably hired her because she was the daughter or cousin or who knows what of some manager. And, of course, because she was hot. Welcome to another scene of the splendid heteropatriarchal society.
Alex, tired of waiting for inspiration, had decided to fuck anything that moved, going from girl to girl, without stopping much in each one. The last "Sure" in response to "Call me" was one of the most told lies in that house for the last months.
He went to his bedroom bathroom completely naked and connected his phone to the speakers. The Getaway of Red Hot Chili Peppers started playing, one of his favourite songs.
After a quick shower and putting on some black jeans, a white shirt and a denim jacket, he headed to the studio.
When he walked in he saw Mia, the secretary, she smiled at him, excited to see the person she had spent the night with. "Good morning, Mr Turner, Max Bell is waiting for you inside," she said smiling. Alex nodded, not even saying "thank you". What an asshole.
He opened the studio door, they were rehearsing. He couldn't understand why, they didn't have a concert even near, and his artistic blockage had started to be worrying. He just wanted to get out of it.
"Good morning, do you know what time it is?" was the first thing Alex heard. He was tired of working with Max Bell, he was such an asshole, but a hell of a good manager. So he had to bear with him.
"I know what time it is," he answered.
"Have you written anything yet?" Alex said no with his head. "Then I don't know why you're late."
"You weren't here on time either."
"But I do my job, right? I find you gigs and interviews, am I right, Alex?" Alex stared at him, wanting to punch him in that stupid face. "Yes, because that's my job. So let's see when you start doing yours."
Alex turned his head and looked to Matt, who asked, silently, to not do or say anything. Alex sighted and took out his guitar. Everything went silent until Max's phone rang. He went out to take the call.
"I can't bear with him," Alex said, "I'm sick of him, and one day I'm not going to stay still and shut the fuck up."
"We all think the same, Alex. But while we don't find someone better, we have to try and not have a big fight," Nick said, and Alex nodded.
"Were you home last night?" Jamie asked and Alex nodded again. "Alone?"
"Of course he wasn't alone," Matt answered. He was pissed at Alex and his behaviour lately. Alex looked at him and didn't know what to say.
Max walked in again "The publicist is going to be late."
"Which publicist?" Alex asked.
"Maybe if you came to meetings or read the emails I sent you, you'd know that we have a new publicist." Alex snorted.
"I'm going out to have a smoke," he said, going out of the studio. He knew that building pretty well and knew that the rooftop was a quiet place to smoke. He had been there for a while when Matt turned up. "Have you noticed what he's doing? He's hiring another publicist that will want our money, who will put pressure on us to put out another LP. They win, we lose." Alex said.
"I don't like it either but maybe we might as well give it a try."
"We will, but I warn you, it will be one old lady that studied advertising with some dinosaur and that won't know what social media even is." Matt laughed.
"Who were you with last night?"
"With the receptionist"
"Really?" Alex nodded, letting the smoke of the cigarette go out his mouth. "You are amazing," Matt said, ironically.
"I get that a lot"
"You're such a jerk" Matt whispered, smiling.
"Amazing or jerk, Matt. You have to decide." Alex looked at his cigarette. He wanted to quit smoking, he knew that at some point he would have to, but he was waiting for some kind of motivation to do it. Alex turned to what was in front of him: London, in all its glory: cars, people, laughs, and most of all... life, a lot of life. Alex thought to himself "I don't think I'm living the life I want to live."
"Should we go back in?" Matt asked, Alex nodded, putting out the cigarette. "And please, be calmed" he whispered when they arrived at the door, Alex, once more, nodded.
"At what time does the publicist arrive?" Jamie asked.
"In an hour more or less."
"She's doing good so far, making the client wait on the first day," Alex said.
"It wasn't her fault, her airplane got delayed."
"Where is she coming from?" Matt asked.
"From seeing a concert hall in Brussels."
"Doesn't she know that the internet exists and she can look for concert halls there?" Alex asked, in an ironic way.
"Of course she knows Alex, but she goes there so when you, the artists, arrive, you find everything as you asked for." And with this, the conversation ended. An hour and a half later Mia opened the door smiling.
"(Y/N) (Y/LN) is here." What no one could imagine is that that girl, the one she had just spent the night with, had just said the name that would change Alex Turner' world.
"Let her in, please." Alex looked at the door, where the presence that had just given light to the room stood, they all went there to say hello. "How was your trip?" Max asked, taking her by the waist. Alex noticed how the girl tensed up and thought to himself "You disgusting dick, don't you realise she is uncomfortable?"
"It was good, thank you." She approached them, and suddenly everything in Alex's head stopped. She couldn't be more than 25, which was surprising considering that she was trying to work for such a big band. She wasn't wearing a lot of makeup, except for the red lipstick, matching her nails. She was wearing dark clothes and she was one of the most beautiful people Alex had ever seen. She shook hands with them and said sorry for being late.
"Don't worry, I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Matt said, (Y/N) turned her head and gave Alex a big smile. The singer smiled back, sincerely.
They sat around a big meeting table, (Y/N) explained how she wanted to work, and they shared with her the flaws they had found in other publicists. The more time it passed, the more they knew that they had to hire her.
The meeting came to an end, the boys invited her to have a drink, but she turned the proposal down because she was tired from her flight. But she said it would be an honour to have that drink some other time. Alex decided to go home as well, so he and (Y/N) walked down the hallway in silence, when they were at the elevator Alex dared to ask what had been on his head for minutes: "I was wondering... Would you like to have some coffee... with me... someday?" He felt chills going through his spine. What had that girl that made him so nervous?
"I would love to!" she said smiling. She looked for something in her bag. "Here is my card, with all my contact data." The elevator door opened up, Alex had to go out, and she had to go one floor down.
"Bye, see you soon."
"Very soon." (Y/N) said before the door closed. Alex sighed and went to the studio door. He heard Mia's irritating voice.
"Do you want me to go to your place tonight?"
"No, I've got things to do," he said going out the door. He got into his car, and drove to his house, he parked outside and looked to the other side of the road, smiling.
Everything had changed.
Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @pitchblackstars
#alex turner#alex turner x reader#alex turner imagine#alex turner fanfic#alex turner smut#arctic monkeys#arctic monkeys imagine#arctic monkeys fic
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Only the Light Ch. 19
19/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 5.3k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3
Fate touches Scully's life, as does her own free will.
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Can you still call something a miracle when you could not have gone on without it? When, if it hadn’t happened, the death knell would have sounded in your memory? Is that really a miracle, or is it just what had to occur? Certainly what keeps you breathing wouldn’t be so highly esteemed if the chips fell the other way. It would be called a tragedy, and no one wants to live in a world where every moment is caught between the two.
Scully existed there for a little while, but she’s escaped. Maybe for good. Because this--the Lace’s sacrifice, her signature on the adoption paper, her baby in her arms--is no miracle. This is God realizing she’s gotten her fair share, that he owes her a break. This is her fate.
In more normal circumstances, the foster family and the adoptive parent would have no contact. Social services would handle the transition. Since those barriers are already broken in Emily’s case, the state allows the Lace’s and their son to accompany Emily as she’s turned over to Scully. The nondescript woman in the polo shirt joins them as a witness to the custody change, and so they all find themselves at Bill Jr.’s house--of all places--for one grievous goodbye and a destined hello.
Mrs. Lace passes Emily to Scully moments after the family walks through the door. Her red-rimmed eyes reveal the depth of her agony.
“Take her,” she says. “I need to start letting go while she’s still in my sight.”
Scully bites her lip, feels Emily’s pudgy hand press into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lace. I can’t imagine how hard this must be. I’ll make good on my promise to send pictures and updates, I swear.”
“Thank you, Dana.” She sighs. “It’ll be an adjustment.”
Her husband taps the head of the little boy by his knee. “This is Andrew, our son. He wanted to make sure Emily has the best life possible, so he made you a guide to her favorite things.”
The boy--no more than five--holds up a construction paper booklet with crayon drawings of him and baby Emily. How To Mak My Sister Smile, his stilted handwriting reads. Scully’s heart skips a beat as she accepts it from him. She kneels down so he’s level with her and Emily.
“Thank you, Andrew. This is so sweet and I’ll be sure to read every bit of it and make sure your sister smiles every single day, okay?”
He nods, but tears cloud his vision.
Scully turns Emily so that she’s perched on her knee, facing Andrew. “Tell me--what’s your favorite thing to do with your sister?” she asks him softly.
He rubs his eyes and nose. “I like to show her my cars,” he stammers.
“Your cars? Wow!” Scully effuses. It’s not often that she gets to work on her kiddie voice, and she’ll need that now.
The color returns Andrew’s face. “Yeah, yeah, my race cars! I have a mat for them, and I push them around the track, and she watches. She likes the races. They make her laugh sometime.”
“Wow! You sound like a great big brother.”
“Yeah, and I like her bouncy thing too,” he sputters. “It was mine before.”
“An activity jumper,” Mr. Lace clarifies. “From Fisher-Price.”
“Ahh.” Scully’s happy to get any insight she can into her daughter’s early life. The Lace’s offered to send some toys with Emily, but Scully will only accept a couple onesies and Emily’s beloved stuffed rabbit. She doesn’t want to take any more from them than she already is.
She adjusts Emily on her knee, looks to Andrew. “Do you wanna give your sister a hug?”
“Okay.” He moves bashfully toward her and wraps his arms around Emily. He holds on until Emily begins to fuss, then steps back like he’s been caught sneaking away from time out.
“Emily’s lucky to have a big brother like you,” Scully tells him. “Your parents have my phone number, and you can call and talk to her whenever you want, okay? I know she can’t say much yet, but she’ll grow into it, and besides, she’ll recognize your voice.” Scully offers him a spirit-boosting smile. “Does that sound good?”
He nods, hands linked behind his back. Stranger shyness has taken over.
“Good. She’s gonna need her big brother to stick up for her.”
Scully stands up, clutching Emily to her chest.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lace,” Scully addresses them, “it’s impossible for me to sum up how deeply, deeply grateful I am for you and your sacrifice. It is no exaggeration to say that you have saved my life. I can already tell that Emily is so lucky to have been raised by you--that you have done an incredible job--and I hope that the two of us will continue to be a part of you and your son’s lives as Emily grows up.”
Mrs. Lace dabs her cheeks with a tissue. Mr. Lace frowns at his wife’s pain. “That means a great deal to us, Dana,” he replies.
“We feel blessed to have led Emily through her formative months,” his wife murmurs through her tear-strickenness.
The man nods. “She’s a wonderful kid, and I’m sure some of that comes from you.”
Scully smiles tautly. “I could say the same of you. Thank you for giving her the start I was denied from providing her.”
“You’ll let us know if you need any help, won’t you?”
“Of course. I’ll have your number on speed dial by the end of the night.”
The Lace’s formal goodbye had taken place at home, they said, and dragging out their visit would only make matters worse. They leave Bill Jr.’s house after a few short minutes, advancing down the front steps like a funeral procession.
When the door shuts and Scully’s baby is in her arms, she realizes that this will be her life for the rest of her life. What joy--! What horror--!
----------------------------
The heater’s gentle sigh provides a generous rush of white noise as the girls settle for sleep. It’s the time of year when San Diego’s nightly temperatures start drifting away from perfection, when sleeping with the windows open no longer has such appeal. According to Bill, it’s not cold enough to turn on the heating system (surprise, surprise) so he pulled a dusty space heater from the closet for the “girl’s room” to share. Like a gentleman, Mulder took the couch (as if he had any other option), leaving Scully, Missy, and now Emily with the guest room. A family affair, one generation rounded out by another.
It’s a convenient arrangement, really. Bill doesn’t have a crib and it’s not worth buying one for a single night, so Emily will be sleeping on the bed like a grown-up. If Missy weren’t there as a physical barrier, Scully would be taking the chance that Emily might roll off the unattended side. Instead, the little girl’s mother and aunt will be an arm’s length away for her first sleep with her new family. A symbolic gesture of the protection they hope to provide for the rest of her life.
It’s a wonder how smoothly the transition has gone. Emily hasn’t shed a single tear since the family she knew left her in this strange house. Then again, Scully has never seen her daughter cry; like her mother, she must not be prone to it.
Tara served a ham for dinner while Scully spooned mashed carrots and peas into Emily’s mouth, her helicopter parenting beginning early. Mulder made some joke about gourmet baby food, and everybody laughed except Bill, and Scully felt that she finally understood what was meant by family--some who share your blood will never fit into it, but some who were once strangers will more than make up for that absence.
And now, as Scully lowers her onesie-clad daughter onto the guest bed, there is peace. Terror, too, lingers in her mind, but it’s the unwarranted kind. She is the mother to a healthy baby girl. Yes, there will be challenges. Yes, a person loved separately from yourself is a person you could lose. But the summit has been reached; the worst did not happen, and now everything else pales in comparison. As far as Scully’s concerned, she can never be truly hurt again. Because if anything happens to Emily, well, this is what Scully asked for, and what gives her the right to complain? Beggars can’t be choosers, and she begged God for this...The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. This happened in the opposite order for her, so she can only assume more loss is to come, and she will accept it. She will.
Scully slides beneath the comforter, snaking her arm out from under to rest a hand on the small of her baby’s back. A comfort very familiar to her, and one she will bequeath to her daughter. They have the bed to themselves for now. Missy is in the living room downing a beer with the boys and trying to compete with (or mediate?) their trash talk. In the past, a situation like this might worry Scully, but those old concerns look so small now.
Only a few hours in, and she already feels much more at home with the title of mother, much more deserving of it. The first diaper she changed rivaled some of the operations she witnessed in med school, both in its gruesome nature and in requiring multiple pairs of hands. Mulder would help if Emily was a boy, he swore, but he claimed to be “out of his depth with her plumbing” as he put it. Missy quipped that you sure are and it made even Bill laugh and life was wonderfully rose-colored through Dana Scully’s eyes.
She hopes for sweet dreams for herself, but much more so, for her daughter, and she is aware that this is how it will be for the rest of time. Having been half-asleep when she was put down, Emily lulls into even-breathed dozing before Scully can decide on a lullaby. No harm done; Scully’s vocal cords haven’t seen regular exercise since college karaoke, and she’d hate to disappoint so soon.
When she opens her eyes again (she hadn’t realized she closed them, but apparently she had), Emily is deep in sleep, her eyelids twitching to the rhythm of her unseen dreams. And Missy has joined them too, her mouth drooping like it did when the sisters shared a bed every Christmas Eve. Scully doesn’t know what time it is, and with such a picture perfect view in front of her, she won’t dare to roll over and check the bedside clock. How nice it is to exist beyond time’s constraints, even for a moment.
Scully is as present, maybe, as she’s ever been. She’s touched by the past and the future, ironically giving her a heightened awareness of now. One side of her consciousness is borne back into childhood and the many nights she slept by her sister’s side--in this very city, in fact. The other sees a path of hope unfurling in front of it, finally. She wonders whether her happiness might multiply, like a drop of food coloring unleashed into water. Might Emily be the shield that she’s needed?...Maybe the loss she expects will not be what comes.
And what that could mean...she has meant, for a long time now, to plant Mulder firmly in her life. Partner is much too fleeting--the Bureau could close the X-Files tomorrow, and then they’d be nothing but ex-coworkers. They’ve established where they stand through silences that say more than words ever could. She loves him, he loves her, and my god, neither one wants to lose that. It’s only now that Scully is realizing that they haven’t--or she, rather, hasn’t--embraced what they have, and so there is nothing to lose, and very little to cherish.
With all this change in her life, she thinks, why not add that to the list?
--------------------------------------
They fly back into DC on Emily’s first birthday. November 2nd. Or at least, that’s the date that was left on the note at the foster agency. Scully isn’t sure exactly what she was doing last November 2nd, but she wasn’t having a baby, that’s certain. It was around the time of Aubrey, Missouri and BJ and nightmares, she remembers that. Plus, the phantom pregnancy, and the fear. The universe has a way of echoing itself.
They’re off to Mama Scully’s as soon as they make it off the tarmac. She’s aching to see her granddaughter, as she let Dana and Melissa know through a barrage of phone calls. I even made cupcakes and bought decorations for a warm welcome home! she insisted. Neither one of them can remember their mother being this excited about anything since...honestly? Ever. And they can’t blame her; Emily is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to their family. If only their father were here to meet her.
This is the sorrow that Scully has not had time to pick at. Her hero, her role model, the blueprint for all she wants Emily to be, not around to see it happen. She can’t think further than that; it’s the loose string that would unravel the sweater.
Mama Scully opens the door before they make it up the front steps, armed with yellow balloons and a party hat for the birthday girl. What a way to meet your grandmother.
“Hello dear!” It’s unclear whether she’s referring to Emily, one of her daughters, or the three as a unit. “Look at you…” she cups her hands around Emily’s head, and now they’re pretty sure who she’s referring to. “You’re like a little princess!”
Scully smirks. She’s glad to witness her mother’s happiness, of course, but they’ve just finished five hours of travelling with a baby. “Mom, please, could you save the theatrics for inside?”
“Oh, I have a whole other set of theatrics planned there,” Mama Scully quips. She clears the way, ushers the group into the house.
She touches Mulder’s shoulder as he passes. “Fox! I almost didn’t see you there.”
“Well, I can’t compete with Emily, so I don’t blame you.”
“She is precious, isn’t she?” Mrs. Scully gazes toward the doorway that Scully and Emily have since deserted. “There’s a place for you in Emily’s future, you know.”
Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Oh.” He doesn’t know what else to say to that, and besides, it should be up to Scully.
“Unless there’s another woman in your life…?”
“No, no, I just--” he chuckles. “I didn’t expect that.”
Mama Scully lays a hand on his arm. “I care about you, Fox. Your well-being is deeply connected with my daughter’s.”
“Yes, of course…” He really, really would like to go in now.
“And it’s important to me that she has a strong support system throughout this ordeal. Raising a child is a tremendous challenge, and I don’t want her to feel that the burden is hers alone.”
“I completely agree.”
“That’s why you should adopt Emily, too. Give her the gift of a father.”
Mulder’s brain short-circuits. “I--what? Mrs. Scully, I don’t know--”
She puts a hand on his back and leads him inside. “Think about it. You and Dana, forming a family for this child that needs one. It would be a little untraditional, of course, but the wedding could come in due time, no need to rush.”
Mulder’s head is spinning. This is a practical joke, right? The hidden cameras can feel free to reveal themselves any time now.
The pair stops in the front hallway, a safe distance from everyone else in the kitchen. Mulder tries to mold his thoughts into cohesive sentences.
“Mrs. Scully, your intentions are good, but I think this solution is a bit extreme. I’m more than happy to help with Emily as much as possible, but becoming her father would just make things more complicated for all involved. And trust me, even if I were onboard, there’s no way Dana would go for it.”
Mama Scully nods. “I anticipated that. I’m going to talk with her tonight, straighten things out.”
Mulder does an awkward side-to-side shuffle. “If there’s one thing I know about her, it’s that her mind is not easily changed.”
“Yes, well, I doubt this is something Dana has given much thought to. I’m hoping to get my argument across before she takes sides.”
“Mmm.” Mulder looks off toward the kitchen, where he would like to be.
“I’ll let Dana know that we’ve discussed my proposition,” Mama Scully continues, “and then you two can talk it over, alright? I don’t mean to force you into anything. It just feels like a logical step. I’m sure you’d agree that your relationship is deeper than that of many married couples.”
“Sure, but it’s very different too,” Mulder mutters. This is not a topic to delve into with his partner’s mother, of all people. “I don’t know that they can be compared.”
“Perhaps you should consider it.”
Mrs. Scully holds her hardened glance for a long second, and Mulder is the one who breaks. He scoots out of her direct line of sight, then gestures for her to go before him into the kitchen. “Shall we?”
------------------------------
They celebrate Emily’s 365th day around the sun like they’ve been by her side for every one of them. Before the crew arrived, Mama Scully whipped up vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles, or as she put it, “a little bit of everything since I don’t know what she likes.” She even bought a happy birthday banner and sharpied in Emily’s name--not to mention five birthday hats and a humongous 1 candle that a single cupcake can barely hold up.
It’s a testament to Emily’s character that she’s so unbothered by it all. She lets Mama Scully slip the hat into place, shows no visible distress to the admiration she receives from the room. She prefers her mother’s arms over anyone else’s--they are, after all, the most familiar of the unfamiliar--but she’s content anywhere that welcomes her. And this is a place where she is most welcome.
Scully reminds herself to capture these little moments in her mind...Emily’s effervescent giggle as Missy tickles the bottoms of her feet, Mulder helping Mama Scully add extra sprinkles to each cupcake, the warm hug of a family’s company. Love, love, there is so much love here.
The time comes for cake and singing and blown-out candles. Well, candle in this case. Mulder performs the honor of lighting said candle as everyone gathers around, Emily nestled in her mother’s arms.
“Ready?” Mulder inquires. He conducts in time with his countdown. “One, two, one, two, three…”
The rendition is not in tune on anyone’s part (though Missy is the closest), but at least their intentions are harmonious. Scully’s heart swells. Mulder and Missy throw in a zany “and many more!” for the cherry on top of a joyous moment. Scully mourns its end; the birthday song is much too brief.
“Make a wish!” Missy chirps, and Scully leans forward and blows out the flame for her daughter. Safety, happiness, love...these are the things she asks for. These are the things that everyone deserves.
Scully’s not surprised when her mother pulls her aside a few minutes later and leads her to the library, leaving Emily at Missy and Mulder’s mercy. Her mother is fond of sentimental speeches, but not brave enough for an audience. Scully steels herself for a mushy-gushy outpouring.
Mama Scully shuts the door, turns to her daughter. “I’m overflowing with joy. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, mom,” Scully answers, tiresome already. “I’m a bit afraid this is all a dream that I’ll wake up from at any moment.”
“Pinch yourself. You’ll see that it’s not, I promise.”
Scully pinches her bicep, more for her mother’s amusement than anything. This is, in fact, reality.
“You must be very overwhelmed, I imagine,” Mrs. Scully remarks, beginning to pace. Scully follows with her eyes.
“There is a lot that I haven’t sorted out yet, yes,” Scully replies, her suspicion about her mother’s intentions growing. “Work, for example. I only have one more day off, and then I have to explain everything to Skinner, and hopefully I’ll qualify for maternity leave. But the Bureau isn’t very good about that, it’s only two weeks.”
“Just remember that I’m always available to babysit Emily if you need it.”
“I know, mom.”
Mama Scully allows herself to get side-tracked for a moment. “You have a crib though? And diapers, and a high chair?”
Scully nods. “Required for the home study.”
“Good.” Mama Scully sweeps back a wayward piece of her daughter’s hair. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re all alone in this.”
Her mother’s soft gaze unearths a sudden swell of emotion; tears prick at the back of Scully’s eyes. “I know, mom.”
“And I know that you’re gonna say you are Emily’s only legal guardian, and so you are technically alone, but you know what? You don’t have to be,” Mama Scully asserts. “There is someone out there who is willing to fill that void for you.”
Scully rolls her eyes, her brief emotional trance broken. “Don’t tell me you're gonna set me up with the Prizatskys’ son again.”
“Oh no,” Mrs. Scully laughs. “Besides, he’s engaged now.”
“Oh.” Scully tries to miss the patronization in her mother’s voice.
“What I’m saying is,” Mrs. Scully continues, “there is a man in your life who is loyal, trustworthy, hard-working, and in the perfect position to provide for you and Emily.”
“If you’re referring to Mulder,” Scully starts, an eyebrow raised, “I’m not exactly planning to shun him anytime soon.”
“Yes, but have you ever truly let him in?”
Mrs. Scully has aimed her arrow and hit her target, a stunning blow. The most damning parts of Scully’s inner dialogue have just been echoed back at her.
Wounded, she swallows hard. “That’s really none of your business. And just because he’s in my life doesn’t mean that he magically fills the role of Emily’s father. How would that even work? Emily would have to be shuttled back and forth...She’d be split between one parent and the other...It would make her life more hectic.”
“Dana, Dana…” Mama Scully pulls her daughter close, recognizing that she’s struck a nerve. Scully stiffens into the hug. “Remember when you were little, and your father would be gone on long deployments, and you’d draw pictures of him in his uniform, and tell your class about how your father was a Navy captain, and you were so proud? You barely had a sense of what that meant, but you knew he was doing something important.”
Scully relaxes into their embrace. “And when I missed him the worst, you’d let me wear his old sailor hat.”
“Yes.” Mama Scully takes a hearty breath. “I was there every day, feeding you, bathing you, sending you off to school...and you loved me, I don’t doubt that, but I wasn’t the one who put stars in your eyes.”
Scully nods against her mother’s shoulder. Damn, if she isn’t winding her way toward a convincing point.
“Emily’s gonna love you whatever you choose. But the fuller her life is--the more love she’s surrounded by--the more she’ll have to give, and the brighter her light will shine.”
Scully sniffles, shaken by the truth of this. God, to know as much love as she’s known in her life and resist it still. That’s not the way a life is meant to be lived.
“Thank you, mom,” she whispers in her mother’s ear. It’s an imprecise affirmation--encompassing everything and yet a specific something that she can no longer reject.
Scully pulls away, smiles at her mom. “No more meddling, okay? I’ll sort this out for myself.”
Mama Scully laughs. “You just needed that push. Now that the ball’s rolling, I’ll leave it alone.”
“You’d better,” Scully teases. She gestures toward the door. “I should get back to my baby.”
“Yes,” Mama Scully grins, “you should.”
-------------------------------
The knock on the door comes at a quarter to noon, as Scully expected. She didn’t expect that she’d be scrubbing grape juice off the tile when it happened, but hey, these are the disruptions everyone in her life will have to get used to. Including--especially--her.
“I’ll get it!” Missy’s voice breezes through the apartment.
A moment later, Scully finds herself level with a pair of black dress shoes. Big ones. A twelve if she had to guess.
“Scully, if you wanna know my shoe size, just ask,” Mulder jests, and has he read her mind? She feels like she’s been caught in a compromising act, though she’s done nothing but wipe up a sticky purple mess. She cranes her neck, looks up at him.
“Good morning, Mulder,” she mumbles, running her hand over the spill area. Coming up clean, she finds her footing. The top of her head is even with her partner’s collarbone.
Scully thumbs toward Emily, who is gobbling cheese crackers in her high chair without a care in the world. “Apparently she doesn’t like grape juice.”
“Grape juice?” Mulder jeers. “She knows orange juice is where it’s at.”
Scully ignores him, but makes a mental note to add OJ to the grocery list. And apple too, just to be safe.
“Let me get my shoes and I’ll be ready to go,” she says, shuffling off in her pantyhose without waiting for a response.
They have a lunchtime meeting with Skinner to explain...well, everything. Mulder doesn’t need to be there--as his partner was quick to remind him--but he insists on advocating for her. No amount of I’m not a damsel in distress, Mulder will put him off. She’s so much more than that, he knows. Hence why he’s got to do all he can so her life isn’t defined by its crises. Besides, he’ll take any excuse to sneak down to the office on his day off.
He told Scully he’d pick her up because it’d be easier on her, sure, but also because he has an important delivery to make. He nods to Missy, and she grabs the goods off the front table. He wanted to make his entrance before the big moment. His presence known, he’s ready to go.
“Emily, Uncle Mulder brought something for you!” Missy sing-songs as she places the gifts in Mulder’s hidden hands. The girl looks up, her attention easily diverted here and there.
Mulder tries to tip-toe forward--hands behind his back--without coming off as creepy, which is harder than it seems. He takes it as a good sign that Emily doesn’t spook and wonders what it means that Missy called him Uncle Mulder. Did she and Scully have a conversation about it? Is this what he’ll be known as? Or was that just a last minute reach to fill the space?
He pushes these thoughts away, focuses on the blue-eyed girl in front of him.
“Emily,” he begins, and it rolls off his tongue like a devotion, “I thought your bunny might like some friends.”
He reveals the fox first, then the UFO. His personal mark on Emily’s budding stuffed animal collection. She lets out a peep of astonishment and reaches for the fox, fascinated with its bushy tail. She hits it back and forth so it wags like a dog’s.
Mulder chuckles, his brain lighting up in places it never has before. Missy hangs back and waits for her sister to reemerge. Sure enough, Scully melts at the sight, stopping short so she doesn’t interrupt it. She clutches her heart. She and Missy share a smile.
“My, my, look at this,” Scully saunters in, ruffles Emily’s hair. “Do you know what this is, Em?” she asks, patting the fox. “This is a fox.” She points to Mulder. “And this is a Fox, too!”
Emily doesn’t get the joke, but that’s okay.
“And do you know what this is?” Mulder prompts, picking up the flying saucer. He moves it through the air like it’s flying. Emily reaches for it, and god, Mulder knows the feeling.
“This is a UFO, Emily,” Mulder tells her sweetly. “Aliens!”
“No, no.” Scully plucks the UFO from his hand. “No aliens, Em.”
She lays the saucer on the high chair tray. “Mama’s gotta go away for a little bit, but I’ll be back soon.” She kisses Em’s temple. “Auntie Missy will be right here.”
Missy steps forward. “We can play with Mr. Fox and the al--” Scully shoots her a look. ”The UFO!” she corrects, winking at Mulder. She scoops her niece out of the high chair. “Say ‘bye Mama!’”
Emily doesn’t have that grasp on words yet, and they all know it, but Missy gets her to wave. “Okay, now ‘bye Uncle Mulder!’” Another wave. Smiles all around.
Mulder and Scully move reluctantly toward the door. Scully groans as Missy and the baby girl slip from her view.
“They’ll be okay,” Mulder assures his partner.
“I know,” Scully sighs, “but will I?”
Mulder rests his hand in the familiar spot on her back as they exit her apartment. “Absolutely. Skinner will grant you the leave, and you’ll be back with your baby in no time.”
She nods, bites her lip, and slows, suddenly wistful. Mulder stops, turns to her. “Scully…?”
“Mulder, did my mom have a conversation with you?”
He nods.
“And...did you think it was kind of crazy too?”
He nods again.
She takes a breath and rises to her tip-toes. She could pretend not to know what she’s doing, but she does. Oh, she does.
“But not out of the realm of extreme possibility…?” she coos, eyes centered on his lips.
Mulder smiles shyly. He always expected it would be this way: Scully the coquette to his boyish ineptitude. Who knew she’d be stealing his lines.
His hands find her waist, pulling her closer there in the hallway. “No, no,” he muses, “I think it’s pretty solidly in the realm…” He nuzzles her neck, breathes in her sweet smell, and nibbles her ear, all in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing. “...of extreme possibility,” he purrs into her ear, satisfied with himself.
It reminds Scully of do you believe in the existence of ~extraterrestrials~ and how she knew then that he was a little bit unhinged, whip-snap smart, and too goddamn charming for his own good. That either fate or her own unconquerable desire would bring them together. She knows now that fate conspired to keep them apart. What’s unfolding is neither an act of its hand nor a last-ditch effort of a dead-end life. It is one choice among many, undertaken out of sheer belief in the happiness it could bring.
She looks into his eyes, which look back at her with a caramel-drizzle melt. Yes, yes, this is right. She fans a hand out on his cheek, runs her thumb over his mole. She has always wanted to touch it, but could never come up with a good excuse.
They’ve delayed the inevitable long enough. Scully leans in, still on her tip-toes, and Mulder bends to close the distance. Their lips meet, and there’s no fireworks. No, it’s simple serenity. Like coming home after a long time away--though this is a house they have never walked into until now, they have a feeling they will be walking into it for the rest of their lives.
And then Scully pulls away, and it’s over but it’s just beginning.
#a moment of happiness among all the angst <3#thank you as always for reading#kinda sorta almost done#but i have one last angsty twist cause that's who i am#only the light fic#missy and scully fic#the x-files#txf#txf fic#fox mulder#dana scully#melissa scully#mine
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Hello, I hope youvare doing fine !
It's for the Twisted Match-up ! My worst personality traits are : being too judgemental, run away from problems and insecure (idk if the second one can be considered a personality trait). My fav, character would be Hanji 😁
-🌱
Tags: a break-up fic, mild angst, modern!au
Summary: Reader left Hange with a farewell note, and in the reader’s absence, Hange finally confesses how they truly feel about you.
A/N: Thank you for the req, sweetie! Hange is perhaps my #1 character in the whole AOT and I always tried to refrain from writing about them as I fear I may not do my love justice. But for you, I tried and hope you’ll enjoy it~
- They/them for Hange's pronoun.
“I should’ve known,” Hange Zoe muttered to themselves. There was no contempt nor sadness in their voice, just a plain acknowledgment.
The seat that you sat on earlier was now empty after you left abruptly, leaving enough space for all Hange’s unanswered questions of what caused your departure. The diner where you left Hange alone had suddenly became packed since lunchtime had started, and in that commotion of people coming in and out, Hange realized that they had understood since long time ago why you would eventually leave, they just didn’t want to acknowledge it sooner.
For better or worse, the two of you shared a lot in common and one of those is the ability to trick oneself into thinking that everything was alright, until it’s not.
Hange left for a business trip the past week, and the last time the two of you met, there was an obvious spite in you. It started with messages left unreplied and calls that Hange missed from you, as they were preparing for a big project. You knew already that Hange was the type to immerse themselves in their work. There was a fire you could never put out and that was Hange’s devotion for their work. But for once you wanted to be prioritized and Hange missed every chance to do so.
Hange had the capability to trivialize feelings as if it is secondary to almost everything, and they thought if they were to return to you after the trip, with their big smile and their ramblings about all the amazing things they saw while away, you would cave in and share their excitement all the same.
“I should’ve known,” Hange mumbled on their own again, staring at your drink that was left untouched by you, “you were never on board.”
You had left the leather notebook that Hange gave you on your last birthday wide open on the diner table. Within, you had written all the things you wished you could say to them that you never had the courage for.
Dear Hange— you wrote. Hange sighed as a realization suddenly grew inside them, while looking at the words that you had written in blotted inks. Hange was only a line into your letter, upon realizing that they never knew how your handwriting looked like until now. The way certain alphabets twisted in a way Hange had never seen before – how many months had passed since the two of you had been together? And yet it never passed Hange’s mind how your words would look like written, nor did it ever bother them for not knowing.
Hange put your letter down and reached out to the other side of the table to sip your untouched drink for a while. They needed time to process your departure.
Hange knew that you had been crying while writing the letter. Evident by the blots in the ink and the crumpled edge. It’s odd because rather than feeling upset, Hange felt a sense of achievement for picking up the details, which sparked an uncanny inner struggle within them, “Could it be…” Hange mumbled to themselves, “that I don’t care?”
For the longest time, Hange had taken pride in being perceptive and observant – at least that’s what Levi and Erwin often call them,and maybe the compliment started to get into Hange’s head, as much as they would not like to think of their vanity. Yet the ironies persisted; that Hange would pick up small, irrelevant details but would be oblivious to something so obviously displayed in front of their eyes: how unhappy you were.
I couldn’t say this to you directly, because I know you have such power on me, to make me sit and smile and pretend that everything’s okay. To make me laugh and praise as you talk and talk about how exciting the things you do with Erwin and Levi.
“Oh…” realization continued to hit as Hange reminisced the way your face lit up whenever they shared to you all about their works and achievement. Hange thought you were genuinely rejoicing their achievement and took it as yours as well, but then Hange realized moments too late that you weren’t.
Has it ever occured to you that I also want to be celebrated and it’s not always had to be about what you and your accomplished peers have achieved?
Hange leaned back to the booth cushion, gazing aimlessly at people rushing their meal, for lunchtime was going to be over soon. Hange remembered that one evening, you were hungry and Hange took you to this diner, where the two of you sat at this very booth. You didn’t touch your food, you were sighing repeatedly and moved about in your seat. Hange knew how an agitated person looked like.
“Something wrong?”
You shrugged off, sighing heavily, “My end-year review is coming up soon,” There was an obvious worry in the way you spoke, “I don’t think I’m gonna get promoted.”
Hange remembered that they sat there in silence for a while, before stuffing their mouth with roasted ham they ordered, “Urgh, that sucks. But don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll do fine—oh anyway, did you check today’s headline?” And with no hesitation Hange dropped the topic you were about to pour out that night.
Hange started to realize the problem.
I needed your reassurance but you were too.. out there.. with your experiments, researches and business trips to even realize.
When I go out with you and your friends, and all of you were laughing for things I didn’t understand… I often wonder whether you were laughing with me, or at me.
Hange realized that it wasn’t fair, for the two of you equally. They realized that they should’ve involved you more and not just used you as an outlet to pour their stories excitements at times. Hange felt guilt creeping within them, but quickly muttered in defense: “How am I supposed to know? You never told me.”
“You’re so quick to judge,” Hange said again, almost whispering, to the empty seat in front of them, with their fingers tracing the lines of your writing, “Is that how you thought of us all along?”
“What do you need reassurance for anyway?” Hange’s wondering was quick to turn into annoyance, “I don’t read minds.”
I’m not as good as you, you wrote. The ink almost faded out beyond recognition, you must had cried the worse when you got to this part, Hange thought.
Never will be as good as you. Or Levi. Or Erwin. I know I should be proud of you – but why all I ever felt was envy and jealousy?
Weren’t you supposed to be my solace, Hange?
“You should’ve told me…” Hange finally resolved, dragging their gaze to the afternoon view through the diner window. Bustling city felt so hollow without you. You were supposed to have a lunch with Hange, first time after they returned from the business trip. Hange had so much to talk about, things they pent up throughout the trip because Hange couldn’t wait to share it to you. To see the smile looming on your face, something so beautiful for Hange – one that they didn’t encounter often in their suffocating, busy life.
Hange thought, maybe you were quick to judge because you had been hurt by every type of people that had ever came into your life. Maybe to assume the worst from people had given you aid from being disappointed by people you love. Hange tried to understand, but without you knowing, for Hange, no validation or praise from anybody had encouraged them more than yours. You were the only validation Hange sought after. And to realize that maybe you never meant all those had finally started to hurt Hange, as much as they tried to shrug it off.
“You shouldn’t have left,” Hange regretted going to the loo, or not coming to their sense faster to realize that you were hurting. Maybe you wouldn’t have space and time to slip away and to only leave this notebook behind. Yet Hange also cursed your fear of confrontation, leaving everything to your worst assumption, “then maybe we could talk this out.”
“Unless you never wanted to, to begin with.” Hange cursed themselves for not better at reading between the lines of your words. Maybe that was why your hands were no longer warm to their touch, nor was your kiss as long and deep as they used to. Maybe deep inside, despite your smile and your nods, your heart was no longer home.
I wish you could see who am I really and not as a figment of your imagination, you wrote, with sides of the page crumpled from the tears you had left upon writing it.
The line struck a final understanding for Hanji, as they muttered in regret, “I won’t,” deep inside really wishing that you were there in front of them, “because you always see less of yourself and that’s never who you are.”
“You’re more than all of your self-pity.” Hange reiterated, finally closing the notebook where you had poured all your heart into, “you’re more than all that.”
And Hange wished you would have known.
Honestly I feel like there's a void in the ending. Like something's misplaced. Sorry if it feels weird, I'm still tryna recover from chapter 138 😭💔
#hanji x reader#hange x reader#hanji zoë#hange zoë#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#aot#snk#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#🌱 anon#requested#kojins twisted match-up
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